Looking in the rear view

And here we are.  The last Monday of 2020...I had an appointment with my nutritionist this morning--yes, I have one of those now--and will for the rest of my life.  She commented, that I have had a good year.  And in many ways, I have.  At least in terms of my physical health--and despite the grief, this year has brought...my emotional wellbeing too.

January 1, 2021--will mark the one-year anniversary of my decision to enter a weight and wellness program.  I was on my way to visit my mother in the geropsych unit, where she had been admitted on Christmas Eve--and I got winded walking from the handicapped spot at the entrance of the hospital to the front door.  It was at that moment, as I sat on the bench catching my breath inside the hospital entrance that I decided, I had had enough.  I was tired of living the way I had been.  I called my insurance company the next day and formally entered the program three weeks later.  

As I entered the hospital last month for my procedure, I looked back at that bench--and noted how much progress I had already made in taking control of my health.  And today, I had a follow-up appointment it was documented that I have already lost 53% of my excess weight...something that typically takes 6 months to achieve. I don't state this for the accolades or praise from anyone reading...but, for a memorial--for me.  To remember how far I have come in this past year.  

The first also marks the 6th month anniversary of my mother's death--something that I think about every day.  Yet, I feel her presence more now than I did even when I could pick up the phone and call her.  She has been with me every step of this journey--despite never knowing the promise I had made to myself on that bench a year ago. Losing my mother has been one of the greatest challenges of my life.  People would say that losing a parent--especially your mother-- changes you...and now I understand what they meant. I am not the person I was before this loss.

2020 has also taught me the beauty and power of true connection and vulnerability.  Despite the pandemic...I have laughed (and cried) more when my friends--that chosen family--than I ever have before. I have an incredible tribe of powerful, strong, absolutely beautiful women (and a few men, too 😊) who I love and love me fiercely.  This is a gift for which I am eternally grateful.  They have shown up, lifted me up, and sometimes literally picked me up--in ways I can never repay. Yet, know I do not have to...because, for the first time in my life, I no longer feel the need for performance-based acceptance. I am enough.  Just as I am.

And because it makes total sense to change jobs/careers in the midst of a global pandemic--we added that to the list of things to do in 2020.  Shifting from full-time school psych and adjunct to core faculty and part-time school psych has proven to be another amazing opportunity for me to step more fully into the person I was meant to be.  Given the latitude to address issues of social justice and equity issues in my courses (thanks, Angie)--I suddenly had a platform to challenge perceptions and biases--in myself, my students, and now colleagues.  One such pivotal moment coming just a few weeks ago, when I guest lectured in a course taught by one of the faculty who had interviewed me years ago for the EdD program.  It was in that conversation, that she acknowledged her own moment of bias--the question that had crossed her mind about whether I would have the capability to complete doctoral study given my disability.  While I tried not to skip a beat and thanked her for that admission, I find myself still reflecting on it over two weeks later. 😲 😥. 

Was I angry with her?  No...sadly, it is something I have always faced--note my earlier discussion of performance-based acceptance.  I have always felt that I had to prove or "earn" my worth or value--that I was good enough due to my disability, gender, sexual orientation, because I am me...

Yet, this year I learned that the only thing holding me back was me--so, I stopped.  I started pushing myself and taking risks.  Being vulnerable and real--opening myself up to love and connection in ways that feed my soul. And thank God for my tribe.  Do I still stumble? Get in my head? And sometimes worry about what "the world" thinks? Hell yes. But, I know there is no going back...there will be a 2x4 heading my way if I try.

I am creating my own peace.  May you find yours in the year ahead.  And know that I will walk with you as you have walked with me.

That Last Goodbye

That last voicemail--

I should never have deleted.

What I would give now to play again.

Just to hear your voice.

Or the look on your face, when I walked in the room--

To have taken a picture 

so I could hold onto that joy.

Your laughter how it carried throughout the room,

thinking of it now brings a teary smile to my face.

The pedicures, trips to the diner, and just out for coffee--just cream.

Those moments, now only memories.

The recipes that were never written down,

And stories soon to be forgotten--

I promise to hold on to them as long as I can.

And I will never forget--

Christmas Eve, it was always your favorite.

Hor-doeuvres and holiday music...

Just that one present to open.

Your excitement almost too much to contain.

I am sorry for all the ones I wasn't there.

The missed opportunities for connection.

It's just around the corner--and I know--

You made sure I wouldn't be alone.

So many things I would have said, done--

Had I known that when I hugged you that day

It would be for the last time. 

I would have held on a bit longer,

Squeezed a bit tighter;

In that last goodbye. 

Hello

Walking in, not knowing what would be in-store. 

With the first hello, an instant connection.

The depths of which, yet to unfold.

Settling into one another's souls;

as though old friends, who had come home.

 

To the exes

Rarely, we say thank you 

To the ones that touched—

Nearly broke

and deeply hurt to the core.  

Through those loves lost—

anguish and broken hearts.  

Friends and lovers gone;

I’m becoming 

The best version of myself. 

To My Teachers

You shared the common wisdom 

Of stories passed down year after year, 

To a new generation. 

Did you know the lies you told?

Of a history from the perspective of the victor—

the oppressor.

Or were you a victim too?

Awakening

My eyes are seeing the world anew; its underbelly.

as though born into a darkness,  of which I was unaware.

I cannot go back to the way things were before;

Before the awakening.

My Tribe

Scattered across many lands,
Looks and thoughts, not always in kind.
There is a thread that binds.
Time and years do not wear
on the strength of this connection.

Our journeys differ,
We walk different paths--
for weeks, months, even years.
Yet, there as if yesterday,
When the time comes.

When the collective needed,
To bolster and support.
For me--a cornerstone for others.
I sound the rally cry.
Surrounded.  My tribe.

---For Alison.

#twoblindbrothers #shopblind

Yesterday

Living in memories of times long gone,
Conversations become circular.
As I cling onto what is left of today.
In a place strange yet oddly familiar,
I find myself.  Not knowing the day.
I will not remember your call,
But somewhere in the recesses of a mind,
betraying me--I will know it hasn't been long.

Often scared and confused, I find myself.
I talk of home, often across generations.
Be patient with me, as you detangle these threads.
Someday, they will be all that remains.
As I slip more and more into yesterday.

You are my memory now; my legacy.
Carry me with you, always.
Remember the things that I cannot,
And continue to share your stories.
Until I fade away.

Post Mortem

Young and broken,

You had me believe.

Dependent solely on you.

Groomed to suite your needs.

Needing to be needed, 

I clung to your intermitted praise.

Afraid of life without you.

A love unconditional,

Until it was.

Growing and maturing.

Voice growing steadier,

The conflicts began. 

The balance of power,

No longer always yours.

Hot and cold, to keep me guessing.

Eggshells I no longer cared to walk on,

Were cracking beneath my feet.

The foundation was crumbling,

and the end drawing near.

There were conditions.

I knew.

I jumped.

In the darkness, a glimmer.

I turn to face the day.

That shame I carried, was not mine.

Those chains no longer bind me.

New life, I am finding alone.