In Spite of it All

I think that my last post might have left the impression that I am in a bad place which could not be much farther from the truth of my life.  I might have been too close to the actual moment when I wrote that particular blog post, but the inner turmoil that accompanied the experience lasted for a fairly short time, most especially after I decided to post what I wrote instead of hiding it away someplace which is what I have done in the past.  My mother is who she is and I am who I am.  I accepted this a very long time ago.  I try not to fight the facts.  I try to get along with her except when I just can't.  And I try very hard not to burden myself with guilty feelings that are mostly invalid.  My relationship with my mother is a constant work in progress and I know that if I do not figure it out during this lifetime, I will most certainly have to deal with it again at some other time in some other place and that is something that I just cannot put myself through if at all avoidable.  I have also come to the conclusion that it does not help my body to heal when I try to shove the emotions that my mother often elicits in me back down into my gut because they almost certainly rise back up to my heart after a period of time and this is when I seem to become depressed for no apparent reason.  Then I must dig and dig until I unearth the issue that is really bothering me when acknowledging it right away might have actually made things so much less complicated.  And complicated it will always be.  If it's not one thing, it's your mother...

My life is really good.  I have been forced to face some pretty tough stuff this time around, but really, who hasn't?  We all have our own stuff, some of it harder than the rest, but it is ours to learn from.  If we can accept the lessons, if we can notice when the same issues seem to reappear, if we can absorb the knowledge in spite of the frustration and the pain, then, and only then, do I believe that we get to move on. I want to move on.  I want to grow and transform and evolve.  I try to pay attention so that I can do this.  When the same lesson seems to reappear in varying forms, over and over again, I believe that there is more to be learned from it.  I do not say to myself, "Oh no, not again."  That would be futile and quite a waste of time.(Albeit, quite tempting!)  I do often wonder, "Why this time?" and then I try to figure out another piece of the equation.  I also know that I cannot change my mother.  I  know that the likelihood of my teaching her anything carries fairly dismal odds.  And sometimes I have to think that maybe this is more about my mother, at this point, than it is about myself.  Maybe I have gotten some of it.  Maybe she has not.  When we are placed in certain relationships throughout our lives, especially one like the parent/child relationship which is one of the closest physical bonds that there is, the job is both to teach and to learn. Lord knows how much my own four daughters have already taught me over the course of the past twenty-five years.  If these same lessons keep appearing and reappearing with my own mother, maybe it is because at seventy-one years old, she still has something very important to learn and I am just the teacher.  For now, I am at peace.  It is very easy for me to love my mother from afar.  Mother's Day is coming up which will, once again, open up all sorts of windows and doors and cracks in my walls but I am allowing myself a breather.  I check in with her by text a couple of times a week which helps to alleviate any sense of obligation on my part.  Mark writes out and mails her check at the end of every month.  I am not dwelling.  I am not beating myself up.  I am not allowing this to eat away at me from the inside out.(Thank you, dear Angella, for bringing to light the cat eating my turtle's leg meaning from my dream.  It makes so much sense to me now!)  I am enjoying my husband and our girls and my father which is far more important to me than the parts of my life that have not yet worked out the way that I would like for them to.

A couple of weeks ago, we went out to Palm Springs to celebrate my dad's seventy-fourth birthday.  I am glad that he is not seventy-three anymore.  My grandfather died when he was seventy-three and for some reason, my father was burdened by the thought that he would pass away at that age, as well.  He obviously had a major scare not too long ago, but he is still here.  We are all more than grateful for that.  I know that I can no longer pretend that my dad is always going to be here, but at least I know that he is here with us for now.  That is something worth celebrating.

Even though he still bites...Just cannot help himself!

Angel Daughter Number Three and Angel Daughter Number Four took the opportunity to have an impromptu dance with their grandfather in the middle of the bowling alley.  It's how they roll, and face it, the man loves to be surrounded by beautiful women.

Angel Daughter Number One is such a gorgeous young woman now.  She brought her boyfriend Matt out to Palm Springs to celebrate with us.  We really like him.  He is a very bright young man who comes from a lovely family.  He is working on his doctorate right now so the next year is going to be pretty hellish for him but if they survive this year together, who knows what might happen:)  Matt has a younger brother, Zach, who may or may not be dating AD3 right now!  They met at Mathew's family seder which we attended, and they took a liking to one another right away.  It's only too bad that there aren't two more brothers in their family.  I'm just saying...

We had dinner at Arnold Palmer's restaurant in Palm Springs.  Lots of golf memorabilia and good food.  No Arnold, though.

My husband is my rock and my touchstone.  He keeps me grounded.  He knows when I need to be left alone and when I need to be spoiled a little bit.  He makes me breakfast in bed almost everyday of the week.(oatmeal and orange juice with my vitamins on the side)  I guess after thirty-three years together, we know each other pretty well.  Sometimes he worries about wrinkles and thinning hair(his, not mine), but I really do not mind one bit.  I think he is the most handsome guy alive and I've met Rob Lowe up close and in person;)  I would still go home with my man every single time.  My life is good, not perfect, but good.  And that is exactly how I like it.

You Took the Words Right Out of my Mouth or Why Meat Loaf is Still Delicious

*Meat Loaf with Tim Curry on the big screen.

I consider myself pretty lucky.  I grew up during a time in which many of the greatest rock and roll icons in the world were growing up too.  The Who, Bruce Springsteen, and The Rolling Stones serenaded me through my teenage years, filling my soul with hope and unrest and a bit of rebellion.(Maybe more than just a bit.)  From Mick Jagger professing that he would never be my "beast of burden", to Bruce Springsteen's long, plaintive wails calling for me to tie my hair back in a long white bow, I was being seduced by a generation of gritty, throaty, talented young men whose music became integral parts of the soundtrack of my life.  But in 1977, a guy who I was quite interested in came over to my house and brought me a new record to listen to.  When he dropped the needle down on the shiny, black vinyl, and I first heard the pleading voice of Meat Loaf, my heart momentarily skipped a beat.  The album, Bat Out of Hell(which has sold over 40 million copies to date), exemplified something that my parents would never understand.  Pain, turmoil, chaos, love and adolescent hormones raged in every chord of this album.  I melted into the lyrics and into that guys arms...  He and I never really worked out.  Meat Loaf never left me.

For the first time in over thirty years, last weekend, I went to watch Meat Loaf sing in concert for the second time.  The first time I saw him, I was "barely seventeen" and he weighed about three hundred and fifty pounds.  He lumbered around the stage, stopping frequently to take hits off of an oxygen canister because his asthma was so problematic.  He only played for about an hour.  The experience was a letdown, especially for an energetic teenager.  I forgave Meat Loaf for his lackluster performance.  I continued a love affair with his music over the years.  So when I saw that he was playing out in Palm Springs in a casino that my dad spends some time at, I asked him to get us some tickets for the concert.  Mark, our four Angel Daughters, and I really enjoy going to concerts, so I thought this would be fun for us to do.  I must admit that I was not expecting very much as we(Meat Loaf and many of his fans) are getting older.  His daughter Pearl was the opening act, but she never announced her relationship to him.(Doesn't want to succeed on the nepotism factor?)  Her voice was gritty and strong and lovely, but the reception from the audience was sadly, less than enthusiastic.  She tried her hardest to get the crowd going and smiled the entire time.  Looking back now, I understand why this happened.

1.  The audience did not realize that Pearl was Meat Loaf's daughter.(Sometimes it is best to use who you know to your advantage.)

2.  The audience consisted of mostly casino players, many of whom were probably comped tickets by the pit bosses.(People tend to enjoy things more when they pay for them themselves.)

3.  The audience was comprised of mostly older people who no longer appreciate loud music.(And some of them appeared to have their hearing aides turned way down.)

None of it had to do with Pearl's performance.  She was talented and enthusiastic and lovely.

As for me, let's just say I get very absorbed in enjoying the experience and people around me might or might not consider me a little bit wild once the music begins to play.  Now my youngest Angel Daughter knows where she gets it from...

The concert opened with the song "Hot Patootie-Bless my Soul" which originated in the movie The Rocky Horror Picture Show.  I am pretty sure that I do not have to explain The Rocky Horror Picture Show, but in case I do, let me just say that it is a very bizarre, very popular cult classic that still has a major following today.  Scenes from the movie flashed on the screen behind the band but most of the audience remained fairly docile.  Not a great sign for someone who loves to stand up and dance!

The third song in the set was Bat Out of Hell which got a mediocre rise out of the seemingly partially dozing, partially unimpressed crowd.  I must admit that the gigantic bat was a bit cheesy, but I did get a kick out of it.  After the song was over, Meat Loaf was fairly winded and told a few stories to the audience.  He let us all know that he is sixty-two years old and that if he can still get up there and put on this kind of a show, then the audience should be sending some of that energy right back to him.(Check out the heads of the people in the audience.  Very few people are standing down on the floor.)

It was then that he turned to the audience and made an announcement.  He told security to get the hell out of the way(using other very strong expletives!) and to allow anyone who wanted to dance to move up to the stage!  What was security supposed to do???  They got out of the way, and the individuals in the partially stunned crowd who were enjoying the concert, moved their way up towards the stage!  We ended up in the front row, Mark and Angel Daughter Number One leaning right on the stage and me and my other two daughters, standing on the chairs!  In all of my years going to live concerts, this was an absolute first!  Everyone behaved really well, and the house began to rock!

From that point on, everyone was dancing and singing and enjoying the concert.  I am pretty sure that the folks who were not getting into it before, ended up leaving.  Meat Loaf sang his heart out and the audience sent the love and energy right back to him and his extremely talented band.  When I walked into the concert, I was the forty-eight year old mother of four young adult women.  When I left the concert, I was a seventeen year old girl on a date with her friends.  Meat Loaf took me back to a place in time when I was young and my world could be described by the words in a song.

Of course he did a fantastic rendition of "Paradise by the Dashboard Light" with his longtime duet partner, Patti Russo.  Even my daughters sang along to that one.(If you have never heard it, you must go listen to it.  It is quite a racy classic.)

Meat Loaf's voice was strong and melodic.  His energy was good and his sense of humor was apparent.  He was irreverent, in your face, and very likable.  He was like an old friend.  It felt really good to spend the evening with him and his band.  Their energy was contagious.(after we got rid of the fuddy-duddies;))

When he put on his red, sparkly jacket, he joked about how much other rock and roll artists would forever envy him for having it.

But his singing was seriously good.  Meat Loaf has been through a lot with his voice over the years.  There were times when it was reported that he would lose it for good.  So to hear him belt out some very powerful melodies was both exciting and inspirational.

His guitar player, Randy Flowers, was fantastic as were all of the musicians in the band.  Angel Daughter Number Four thought it was hysterical because Randy smiled directly at me a couple of times.  She kept pointing it out to me whenever he did.  I just let her know that her good ole mom still has it;), but that I only have eyes for her daddy.  Funny when our children see us through different eyes!

By the end of the concert, Meat Loaf was still going strong.  Sixty two just isn't what it was when I was growing up.  It amazes me that older people are so much younger than they used to be!  I love it.  Getting older no longer means that we must fade quietly into the background of life.

Nope, we can still rock and roll and do it well!

Reflecting upon the days when I was young and free-spirited and quite a bit rebellious might have reminded me of my teenage years and the boys I once knew(What were their names?) and the songs that rocked my soul, but it also reminded me of something else.  That everything that happened then, is part of who I still am now.  And everyone who had an effect on who I was then, is a part of my history.  My story.  My life.  And who I am now.  There is no way to erase or change the things that brought us to this point.  There is no way to change the things that make us who we are now.  So we might as well embrace them.  And dance...

*The five of us at the Meat Loaf concert.  AD3 had previous plans:(

                    

*AD1, AD2, and AD4 with Pearl in the background.

                              

*AD2 and her Angel Momma

Madly, Wildly, Fiercely

*I just signed up for Skywatch because I have seen so many beautiful pictures from there.  I am not sure, yet, what it entails, so I will be jumping in to get my feet wet!

*Angel Daughter Number One and Angel Daughter Number Four

I have all of the strength that I need in this moment because I have been successful in love.  I know this because I can observe it in my children as they playfully hang on one another during candid but expressive moments.  I know this because I can catch them loving on each other even when they think no one else is looking.

I believe this because my absolute love for them, and for my husband, is mirrored in the love that they share with each other.

I honor this because although I know I was loved as a child, there were very few expressions of that love for me to draw from, yet I was able to grow into a woman who can love freely and without hesitation.

*Angel Daughter Number Three

And even during an "alone" moment, I am able to witness this in my own children as I watch them turn their own faces toward the sun.

This past weekend, we traveled out to Palm Springs to spend some time with my dad.  Like most of California, Palm Springs is beautiful.  It is a desert environment which means that summer arrives much earlier than it does in most places.  It was hot and dry and colorful.  After spending over three hours sitting in on a deposition, last Thursday, there was a lot on my often, overactive, mind.  I spent hours listening to someone trying her hardest to make me out to be a raving lunatic.(I could almost feel the foam forming in the corners of my mouth while a maniacal smile formed slowly across my lips.  Almost.)  And while it is very difficult not to take that kind of thing seriously, my father reminded me of something that I had almost forgotten to remember.  He told me that nothing that she said, or continues to say about me, matters at all.  Nothing.

I spent a lot of time thinking about darkness and light.  I thought about love and hate.  I contemplated the muddled line which exists exactly in between each of these different ends of the spectrum and what it is that can send us over from one side to the other.  I thought about how this little sprite of a woman is capable of facing off against a six foot tall, mean-spirited man(her attorney) and his very sad, sad client.  I thought about the strength that it took for me to sit there while listening to such deplorable nastiness, but how I did so with grace and humor.  And I realized that there is nothing that she can take from me.  There is nothing that she can attribute to me.  There is nothing that she can do to me.  I still have my brother(although there is a spiritual boundary between us now) and whether it be in a month, or in five years, I will have my precious nieces in my life again someday.

Yesterday, before we left for the long drive home, I took a walk by myself.(I brought my camera along so that I could share the beauty of the environment with you!)
As I walked along the flower-lined pathways, I felt a sense of peace...

And the overwhelming feeling of loving and being loved.

As I passed by this beautifully adorned gate, I thought about doors and going through doors and discovering what is on the other side.  I thought about how we do that each time we make some sort of a decision.  I had a discussion with God. I wanted to check in with Him to find out how I was doing.

And then I found myself standing in front of this gorgeous stairway going up.(or down, depending upon your vantage point)  I thought about how easily I could have just meandered my way right past it, but how it caught me in my steps.  I thought about pathways which look as if they could go on forever, but how each one ends up someplace.  I thought about love and pain and the suffering that each of us experiences throughout a lifetime.  None of us gets by unscathed.  But if we are lucky, and we keep our hearts open to the possibilities, the love is what will keep us strong.

Love is what gives us unfounded strength.  It allows us to venture into areas that seem almost scary at first.  It is what carries us through the tough times.  It is what sustains us through the pain.  And in the end, after everything is said and done, love is what wins.