I never finish these, but I am going to try this time, I figure I can do almost anything for ten days.
Not sure if we were supposed to address the prompts in order, but this one resonated, so here goes.
When I saw the prompt for being happy a week straight, I laughed
and vowed to skip.
Over it.
I just don't think 'happy' is in my DNA.
Then, a 'memory' popped up on Facebook.
I almost didn't re-post it, but I stopped to look at it and
think.
I am not one of those people that 'peaked' in high
school---at least I hope the fuck not. You know who I mean....the people
you run into when you visit your hometown that call their buddies by their last
names, and reminisce about the missed (or made) field goal in playoffs…
However, that picture made me really think and remember a
few times in my life when I was genuinely happy.
Don't get me wrong, I have had multiple transcendent moments
in my life....moments where I felt entirely rooted in this universe, moments
where I felt I belonged, and moments where love blazed through me so
thoroughly, that I felt incandescent.
They are/were 'moments', though.
A week?
I looked at that picture---which to me is like one of those
"What does not belong" pictures we were given in elementary school.
In high school, we lived in an apartment. The Gold
Exchange and Sadie's were within a mile. Walking distance if you were drunk,
which my mother always was.
I was a Ridge Kid. Raised in the trees and dirt.
We had solar panels and kerosene lamps not electricity.
We had pots and the wood stove not a water heater.
There was an
outhouse.
When I decided I wanted to be a cheerleader, my mother and
older sister mocked me, and my dad told me to try for what I wanted.
I did fundraiser after fundraiser...selling chocolate and
magazines, because the welfare check would pay for rent and beer, but never my
heart's desire.
Cheer camp. Sunburned, shouting until I was hoarse, joining
in with hundreds of other girls who jumped and squealed and shouted and danced.
Happy.
It wasn’t a full week, it was 5 days, but the happiness
remains.
It was good.
And those girls...
Doctor's daughters, girls who got tucked in, and girls who were
taken to Sunrise Mall for school clothes (not Cheryl's Clothes Closet-the local
thrift store) accepted me.
They took me in and loved me, even though their
socio-economic status said they shouldn’t.
They should have shunned me and dumped buckets of pigs blood
on my head, or bribed the quarterback to ask me to prom and not shown.
Their religion told them I was not their kind.
Their money told them I didn't fit in.
Their perfect clothes and shiny hair and orthodontia told
them I was different.
But a week made us sisters.
And then they were there for me.
Always.
My little girl lost her daddy a few weeks ago, and a couple
of them have had that happen to them in the last 3 years, reached out with
love.
The two most devout and dedicated to their religion have
always been there for me.
Always.
It wasn't 7 days, but it was a week.
And I was happy.
Every. Fucking. Day.
5 comments:
You always know how to make me tear up. Love you bunches! And I'm so glad you listened to your dad. You made all of us better people just by knowing you.
So much love to you sister, I honestly had no clue about your economics, the bliss of living in a small town we were not taught that was a value. I've learned nothing is by chance that 3 of us now walk the same walk. Baby steps, it's a new dance. 💓
Dearest Mary,
You are, and will always be--one of my favorite poeple in this crazy world! I love you forever! You have always known how to make me laugh and how to watm my heart.
Cheer camp was an awesome week and a special forever memory for me too. Even though I kept you up late and gave you much material to laugh at! Lol
Hugs for you!
Nicole. :-)
I am always so amazed at the variety of ways pepole were living without me having a clue as we grew up. I thought my family was barely scraping by (true, but we had more than many I've discovered ). Could not figure out how my parents provided what they did on the income I knew we had (or rather failed to have). I knew one of my best friends used to get bullied for "having money" when I know her family was as bad if not worse than mine. But as an adult, I find we did pretty good. We built our own house to afford it. Fixed our own car, you name it. But we did have toilets, and a water heater. My house until I was 13 had just a small wood stove for heat but that was kind of cool. Anyhow, I never had a clue about most others financial status, and I am happy to say I still don't. And that experience served me well to pull off some crazy tricks as an adult now myself. Thank you for this, your stuff is always so relateable.
-lara
I am always so amazed at the variety of ways pepole were living without me having a clue as we grew up. I thought my family was barely scraping by (true, but we had more than many I've discovered ). Could not figure out how my parents provided what they did on the income I knew we had (or rather failed to have). I knew one of my best friends used to get bullied for "having money" when I know her family was as bad if not worse than mine. But as an adult, I find we did pretty good. We built our own house to afford it. Fixed our own car, you name it. But we did have toilets, and a water heater. My house until I was 13 had just a small wood stove for heat but that was kind of cool. Anyhow, I never had a clue about most others financial status, and I am happy to say I still don't. And that experience served me well to pull off some crazy tricks as an adult now myself. Thank you for this, your stuff is always so relateable.
-lara
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