Thursday, March 24, 2011

Eyes of Violet and Signs of Spring

I met Elizabeth Taylor once, thanks to Husband.

In the early eighties, Macy's in downtown San Francisco had an unveiling you could attend if you purchased a limited edition bottle of Liz's new perfume.  Husband bought one for his Mother and one for me, and we were thrilled to attend the tea she would host.  She graciously came table to table to shake each person's hand in the room, including mine.  She was the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, and I say creature because her beauty and charisma was otherworldly, with eyes of violet just like people said.  Really.  Her eye color was the deepest violet, and she glowed in the lovely silk purple suit she wore.

She was also wearing THE diamond, the one Richard Burton gave her, that looked more like a sparkling ice cube floating in his Scotch.  What a dame.  They just don't make em like that anymore.  The last of an era of real Hollywood movie stars.

We've been drenched the past few days, hard rain and wind that lasted all day today.  I had all kinds of intentions to get out, (Hello Nani, don't worry, I'm ok), but never got out of my slippers.  Poor little Muffin the poodle hates that we force her outside in this weather.  She does her best to walk tiptoe on dainty Ballerina poodle toes to find the perfect spot, then runs like the dickens to get back inside.

I am going through a bit of a funk, intermittently down and angry, then working my way back to center.  I think all this rain may have been my fault, sent to put out the growing fire of my self pity and make large puddles that spit back at me when I stomp my foot in a tantrum.

I just don't want to do the stuff anymore, the stuff still left for me to do, still here in Cancer Camp.

I want to go home.  I want to be normal again.

I want to worry and complain about the normal stuff, like what to make for dinner, and is there enough money in the checking account, and getting ticked cause I backed into the trash and recycle bins because the boys did not put them away.  The normal stuff.  I want to have plans.  I want to go back to work.  I don't want to do any kind of surgery till I'm ready for new boobies.

I feel as if I am in some kind of limbo again, waiting for answers, unable to make a move.  I am terrible at this.  I really am.  I feel stuck.

God?

It's not that I think you owe me something.  I just can't find you right now, or my way.  I don't have a sense of you here with me like I did before.  I thought the storm was over, and now I can't see shore again and feel adrift and without you.

Sometimes it's hard to know the difference between waiting patiently and being stuck.  I am stuck in winter.  A winter in my soul Lord.

I wait inside for Spring.

Tomorrow,
no matter the weather,
outside or in my heart,
I will look for signs of Spring
and You,
and that is where I will find
my hopefulness again.

3 comments:

Mollye said...

Oh sweetie, I wish I could wave a magic wand over you and you could go back to all those "normal" and good thoughts and feelings. But I can't. But you know all this will in time pass and you have come so far. Lord knows you have every reason to feel the way you feel. Maybe just for today, look deep within the eyes of your baby boy and just think "God how would it be if he felt so hopeless that he took his own life and I could never hold him again." I guarantee your heart will fill up so fast of gratitude that he is with you that you will be out of the funk. Love you, Mollye

Mimi said...

I pray that you find Him in joyful ways, and quickly.

Hugs & love,
Mimi

Anonymous said...

I hear you . . . I do. Drifting around in an ocean of sorrow and fear that's as thick as molassas is devastating.

Deep in your soul, you know that God hasn't let you go. But, until you can hear His voice again, feel His hand on your head. Throw your anchor rope around me. I'll hang on to you . . . tightly and won't let go. Pat (Irish BC Warrior)

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