Potato Sack

I started asking for you for Christmas when I was eight years old. I couldnt believe it when you were born that next April. Just four months later. I truly believed, and somewhere in my heart, still believe, to this day, that you were born for me.

My gift.

The day you were born, I ran up and down our neighborhood and told every neighbor within two miles that you were born. Even if I didnt know them. Excited is a word that barely touches the feeling. You had the brightest blue eyes and blonde curly hair. You were my best friend before you even knew.

When you turned three, we started to play a game. Potato sack. I would come home from school and I'd say, "Hey! Where's my potato sack?!" You'd instantly fall to the floor and go completely limp. I'd go pick you up and toss you up over my shoulder. I'd walk around with you there for as long as you could keep from snickering. Once you snickered, I'd tickle you until you were tired. To this day, it's one of my favorite memories.

Sometimes family's fall apart. Unfortunately, you took the brunt of the fallout from ours doing just that. I was still young, unsure what to do, how to get you out. Selfish. Struggling myself.

Sometimes I'd have to sneak into the house to see you. It was worth it. I loved you as though you were my own child. I found out later that you didnt understand why I didnt come take you away. My heart shatters every time I remember that.

You werent treated right.

I wasnt there for you.

You deserved so much more. From everyone around you.

You pulled yourself up, and made your way.

I am blessed. Many years ago, we began rebuilding our relationship. You forgave me. I'm honored by this, because forgiveness doesnt come easy to you.

You've grown into one of the most amazing people I know. You're genius. Rational. Irrational. You're liberal, but conservative. One of the only people I know who can truly pull that off.

You're beautiful. Your heart is as big as your blue eyes. You'd never think of yourself as special, but you're more special then you'll ever know.

Your sense of humor heals my bad days. I could talk to you for hours, about nothing at all, and feel like it was the most important conversation I'd ever had.

I was given the greatest gift the day you were born. And, no matter how old you get, you'll always be my little potato sack, and I love you with all my heart.

My Worth

I've forgiven you.

But I still find it hard not to hate you.

I dont want to live my life with any hate in my heart. It's exhausting, and black.

So, I've done my best.

We grew up together. Thick as thieves, so the saying goes. Used to have fun.

Star Wars action figures on the lawn in summer. Making felt prize ribbons to give to the neighbors with the best fruit trees that year. We'd walk by and were always offered something from someone. We were 'cute'.

They always like you best.

The boy. Loved the boys. The men. You'll never be a man i my eyes.

When we went out, they'd ask you what you wanted. If I asked for something, I was told 'no', because you were getting something.

I thought we'd grow up friends, but, you were mean. Mean as hell by a certain point.

You were bigger then me. You'd sit on me because you thought it was funny. In my seventh year, I started going home with bruises on my arms because you thought 'socking' me was hilarious. It didnt feel very funny.

I hated being alone with you at night. I was a fighter. A scrappy little kid. But you were huge. Just too big.

I tried to tell someone everything that was going on when I was almost eight.

I got in trouble for tattling and received a spanking with the wooden spoon. Standard in your house.

I never said another word.

I did learn how to fight back though. The last time we saw one another, I was almost nine years old. You didnt say much. Later in the day you tried to bully me a little. Threw a board at me with a nail sticking out of it. I still have a scar on my finger where it dug into me as I put my hand up to protect my head.

At that moment, I beat you to a pulp. I picked up that stick off the ground in the backyard. Remember that?

I got into trouble. And it was totally worth it.

You're loathsome, and yet, you still put meaning into my life.

I have value. No matter what you ever did to me. I count. I stand up for myself. Because I can. And, sometimes, even as a child, no one else will.

Happy Birthday

10lbs 1oz

There you are. It's 1am and a nurse just wheeled you in. You're wrapped like a jelly bean; and quiet.

You're suddenly my world.

I was so selfish before this moment. Why? So self serving. How do I get over to you right now? Cant get out of bed. Finally someone comes in and asks if I want to hold you.

Yes please.

I'm staring at you and wondering how I'll ever do enough good for you.

You have changed my life.

You're three. My favorite time of day is our morning drive. You sit in your booster in the front seat, and always hold my hand.

Little fingers in mine, holding with no shame. Big brown eyes and a smile loving me without a word. Do I even deserve you?

You are eight. Things are tough. Very tough. Somehow, we're surviving. I'd do anything for you to make life ok again. How did we get here?

I hold you.

I wrap you up i my arms. Often.

You're 13. When we go out in public, you still wrap an arm around me, with no shame, and tell me "I love you", even with your friends watching. My irritation with your mid morning 'No's' instantly melt away. It's hard to keep focus on things when it's so easy to be swayed.

Maybe I did a few things right.

I've worried about what kind of man you'd grow in to.

But I see you.

I know who you are on the inside.

All Heart.

You're 17. Today. How did we get here?

When I look at you now, I have to look up. You've come so far, and I'm so proud.

Your future is bright and you're on the right path. You're beautiful and kind.

You're one of the loves of my life and you helped me to become a better person then I could have ever been on my own.

Happy Birthday.

Not like You.

I've known you longer then anyone else in my life, and yet, I know nothing about you.

The best times we ever had were between the ages of 3 and 6. You owned a hair salon and were well known for your talent. How sad that you allowed that to die through life.

Our daily ritual was one of my all time favorite memories. Every day I'd get dropped off at your shop towards the end of the day to wait for you to close. The last clients of the day would give me quarters as I helped sweep up hair. Once the shop was closed, we'd head to 7-11. For Slurpee's. You'd always let me get the cool cup. I liked that. It was a constant. Always there. Always fun.

It wouldn't last.

I got the best of you. The kind you. The funny you. The hard working you. You disappeared so fast that the others never got to know her.

You were supposed to teach me about life. How to: treat people, to be honest, to be good, to hang on to family traditions etc etc. Instead you taught me how to lie. Manipulate. Close myself off. Avoidance. Cruelty. You were supposed to take care of me until I could take care of myself.

Instead. I took care of you.

I took care of the others.

From doing these things, I learned how to care. How to love. How to tell what people needed and when.

I learned on my own. But not from you.

Don't worry. I am truly blessed. Amazing people's paths have crossed mine in life. Giving me the choice to continue to grow into your shadow, or to change and become who I have.

Someone who cares. Loves. Wants to invite people in. To be honest. And my heart? It's as big as a mountain.

People who taught me how to communicate. Such a simple thing, unless you don't have the skill. It took a long time for me to master that one and I still struggle with it at times.

You have a cruel minded heart. You call people I love things like 'Stupid' and 'Dumb'. You're a user. People are only in your life until you have no use for them anymore.

You'll take credit for my successes, but I'll give you none.

You've never come to see Addison and you'll never know her. I'd rather you didn't.

I've spent much of my life ensuring that I wasn't you. Because at my core, I was. I've accepted that you live your life to die. It's a sad way to be, but not within my control. With love in my heart, I don't like you, but I always pray that something will change and you'll find peace and happiness.

Regardless of whether you do or not, you'll never bring me down. And that, is no thanks to you.

Little Blonde Girl

I met you when I was six years old, not knowing how my future would be shaped by my feelings for you. Growing up in San Diego, there were a lot of little blonde haired girls. I was the red headed girl with the freckles. I guess that wasnt so bad, because I caught your eye.

Your parents had a house down the street from my aunt and uncle's home. You were there every summer like clockwork. After I moved away from San Diego, I'd still go down for summer vacation. There was always a one or two day period where all of the summer kids would start to wander around and find one another.

I always looked for you first.

You looked like a six year old Mary Ingall's from Little House on the Prairie. I loved your blue eyes and I didnt know why. I always felt 'funny' around you and never wanted to be far from you. I wondered what that was about?

When other kids would tease me about having red hair, freckles, bad teeth, you would tell them silly things like, "Someday you'll see her in Annie", or, "She's beautiful, you're just mean". Simple things that no six or seven year old should know how to say. You were beyond your years. You acted at least ten or eleven.

I remember the last summer I saw you. Your parents were selling their summer home in Kensington, so you wouldnt be back. I was crushed, but your parents took us to dinner at a fancy Chinese place. It was a lot of fun. You said I was great with chopsticks and they played a lot of Lionel Richie. I'm only now thinking that that seems a little odd for a fancy Chinese food restaurant.

At the end of the night, we sat on your front steps. Beautiful clay and marble as many of the old San Diego homes in the hills had. The air smelled like the ocean, one of my favorite smells, and you, smelled like Suave.

I used some allowance money to buy you a necklace. Probably the type now that would turn someone's neck green after one wear, but you loved it. I gave it to you on those steps, with Lionel Richie running through my mind and wondering why I wanted to kiss a girl so badly. At seven years old.

You started to say something, but stopped. It seemed prolific, but try as I might, and I did, for about an hour, I couldnt get you to tell me. I think you were going to tell me you liked me too.

You didnt have to say it.

Your parents came out and said it was time to say goodbye. You gave me a real hug and said that maybe we'd go to school together someday. I stood there at ten o' clock at night, even after you closed the door behind you.

My walk was only about four blocks, but I cried crocodile tears the whole way. I missed you for a long time, but, as life does, it went on. You're probably married with children and college educated. Even now though, thirty some odd years later, I still think of you fondly every time I hear Lionel Richie. I wonder if I ever cross your mind?

What do I call you?

Memories of a three year old. People probably raise an eyebrow when I say that I have memories from three years old. But I do. Vivid. Clear. Not many. Four, as a matter of fact. Four. They're all of you. My first memory of you coming to see me in the hospital when I had my tonsils out. They had to keep a net on top of my crib because I was a wild child and would climb out. You looked at me through the bars, held both of my hands and kept talking to me. I don't remember what you said. But I remember seeing you. I remember that I looked like you. An awful lot like you.

I remember when you took me to have my tooth pulled. I'm not sure why half of the memories are medical, but they are. I remember seeing carousels while I was under the general anesthetic. When I woke up, there you were. Smiling. I was happy. Happy to see you I'm sure.

I remember the night that you and she fought in the kitchen. You were making dinner. I got a little close and something popped out of the pan and onto my tummy. it burned me. A scar I still have today under the stretch marks. You knelt down and put butter on it. How very 1974. It still hurt, but you kissed it and I felt like I'd be ok. I remember our cat sitting there watching us. I remember wondering if the cat had someone like you?

I remember the day you left. You were wearing a dark colored pea coat and grey slacks. Your dark rimmed glasses just under your nice auburn hair. Me in my very girly little fluffy coat with my stylish polyester printed pants on and my roller skates. I thought we were going for a walk. We went about a block. You said, "I don't want to make your life confusing". I think back now and wonder why you thought I was confused.

Jump forward 18 years. I'm 21. I've used you in every argument I felt fire in. I've wanted to be where you were. And I didn't even know you. The hole you left in my soul, only had one filler. You. I searched for it. Searched for that. Searched for you. I found you at 21. I needed to see you. Needed to know what you were about. Was I like you? Did you know me?

I saw you and it was like looking into a mirror. I wanted to embrace you. I did.
Was I met with the same needy embrace? No.
I didnt mind.
Then.

We talked. Spent two days together. You were honest, which is the most I could have asked for. You hadnt wanted me. Once you saw me, you didnt know how you could have ever thought that. You also came to the conclusion that you werent good enough. Every time you looked into my eyes, you wondered how you'd ever live up to my needs. Was I that needy even at three? I was crushed and elated all in one sentence. You left. Left because you didnt think you could live up to what I needed. What was I supposed to do with that?

I decided that we move on from there. This was summer. By Fall you were gone. Gone from my life. Gone from life. Period. That was my chance. And now you were gone. You left. Again. Were my needs too much for you still? I hope not. Oh, and I looked, just like you. I never looked like anyone. Until I saw you.

Random Blog Posts

I've decided to write about people whom I've known throughout my life. Their effect on my life, or, lack thereof. I wont use any names, and I'll try to be as nondescript as possible. Hopefully someone out there in my small blog following will enjoy something I put out there :)