I've Got, I Had, and I Miss

I've got a job. One I sometimes love, often like, am generally good at (sometimes damn good), and occasionally would like to strangle (and then step away to watch the last pulsing throes of life, grinning evilly at the wretched destruction I've wrought).

I've got a dear and loved husband, whom I love and respect and am glad I found. Whom I would occasionally like to strangle (but I'd pass on the stepping away to watch the last pulsing throes of life, grinning evilly at the wretched destruction I've wrought part).

I've got friends. Old ones I've known and loved for decades, recent ones I've had for years, several at work or through my love of cruising. They're all important, all dear.

I've got most of my immediate family left. And although I don't see them much, I have them. They're important to me. They're part of me. My father, whom I would occasionally like to strangle and fantasize about the destruction so wrought, but never for too long. My brother. My sister.

I've got Monte. And Batman. And now Emma too. My little kitts.

I've got a place to live and a pretty nice one. I've got books! And this computer ... through which I met my husband, keep in touch with (most) of my family and friends, met my dear cruisin' buddy friends, and found Emma and this job.(No, wait, that was 2 computers ago ...)

I've got the ability to express myself and the self-smarts to do so when I really need it (but not enough self-smarts to do so on a more regular basis so the times I REALLY need it will be fewer and farther between).

I've got. Lots.

I miss my mother. Always. And the unacknowledged, unconscious sense of freedom and security and endless time of my childhood. I miss the summer nights lying in bed listening to cicadas. I miss being woken on summer mornings by the oddly comforting all-is-right-with-my-world sound of droning lawn mowers and smell of newly-cut grass.

I miss my younger body, when french fries went into my stomach and not onto my thighs (and ass and waist and upper arms--what's up with that). I miss Louise. So very much. I miss living my life with the youthful certainty that I have plenty of time to do everything and get everywhere.

All the things I have are part of me, all the things I had. All the things I miss. They all make up the Mosaic of Me, this I know.

I guess it's OK to feel sad sometimes, to feel the missing of things and people. I was lucky to have had all those things to miss now.

So, in my convoluted cheerleaders-never-die (they just wrench their backs trying to do handsprings after age 30, even when drunk)way, missing what and whom I miss means appreciation of what I had. Means I was lucky.

Means I am lucky.

So those are things I can add to what I have. And be grateful for.




Of course, they're also now going on the list of things I hope never to lose and will worry about losing, late at night during a bout of angst-ridden insomnia. It ain't easy bein' Green, you know.

;-)

You Always Start -- And End -- With Life

There's Emma -- life. And happiness brought. A new sweet little face and spirit, with an insistent, unbridled energy and unslapped-down confidence. A beginning.

For her. For me.

Hello.

Then there are sad goodbyes to once-vibrant lives. One that took no prisoners--Farrah. And one that became one. Michael.

Hellos, goodbyes. Life. Death.

But always we begin with life. Feeling sad, I look down. Looking up ... I see Emma looking back at me. A purr waiting to happen. Life. Happiness.

Always back to that.

Happy Birthday BGK

People come and go--on the street, in the news, in your life, and in your heart. But some people never leave your heart no matter what. No matter if they have died, no matter if they left this world more than 16 years ago and left you forever grateful for having had them for as long as you did and forever heartsore that they are gone.

Happy birthday, Mom. I miss and love you so.

Emma the Star

Well, OK, maybe she's not really a star ... but to me she is!

Picking Up Emma

Gee, where have I been? When life gets in the way of creative expression, that's a sad & sorry thing. When life sucks some of the life right out of you, that's even more sorry. Sorrier still, though, would be to complain too much about it because--hey--that's part of what life does, after all. And consider the alternative.

I am picking up my new little meezer baby girl, Emma, early next month. I would post a picture but I can't figure out how. Hey, life! You're getting in the way of stuff again here!  Maybe I'll figure out how later. (Optimism & hope in the face of technological ignorance.) Never mind--figured it out. Optimism & hope pays off. Usually.

Picking up Emma is, of late, my rainbow. My sunny day during a week of grey dreariness and rain. I have not even met her yet, not one stroke of her soft cream coat has been issued, and already my heart feels warm and mushy where she is concerned. It is readying itself--priming at least some small part of it's tender place left so hurting and sad when I lost my Siamese Louise after 19 1/2 years of loving everything about her.

So come on, heart! Do your warm-ups! Limber up. Order in Chinese and have a glass of wine--Emma is coming!

Manzanita

I fixed the "greenniebean" thing.

I have been thinking about the St. Lawrence River. The 1000 Islands. Manzanita Island, specifically.

It's that time of year, the almost-spring-in-the-Northeast time of year, when a subset of my internal longings comes out of hibernation to slowly wake up, yawn, stretch their little yearnings-subset arms and legs ... notice their grumbling tummies and the need for (spiritual) food and sustenance ... and begin to plan their trek.

To the River. To the 1000 Islands.

To Manzanita, specifically.

Why Did I Spell That Incorrectly?

* sigh * My screen name is greeniebean. This is the greeniebean blog. So wassup with that "greenniebean" mishap in the About Me area? I guess that tells you something about me. Oh well.

That's it for now. Just my way of saying hi. To myself, basically. I mean, isn't that why blogs are so poopular? (That wasn't a typo.) Because we bloggers are really just talking to ourselves and pretending that other people are interested. 

Aren't we? (See? I'm pretending someone is interested and is reading this ... amazing how quickly the pretense took hold of me!)

Come on. You KNOW this is so interesting that you will be begging for more.

;-)

Right.