2013 sucked. Let's just call it what it was: a shitty year. I didn't come to that realization only now either. Life is moving fast, way too fast. I'm realizing, as tax time nears, we are in the middle of April 2014. Life still moves fast, there are still so many hiccups, but I have mended a lot.
When a parent dies you are blindsided. Everything as you know it changes. I was angry, mad, impatient, crying at everything. Sometimes I still am, but it's not the same. 2013 made me shut down and sometimes people would get no explanation why. Some of them, however, didn't really deserve one.
There were highlights, yes. NYC in January, my birthday party I hosted in my home, my trip to Saint Maarten with a long time girlfriend and an island reconnection I never thought possible in that small town ("Lisssaaaaa"), and of course, completing year one at Ryerson with amazing grades (and grace).
But I struggled on and off. Maine was not the same experience compared to 2012. I was exhausted, that is the only word that sums it up. I loved the trip for my kids, for the family and best friend I was with, but good God, it was crazy times for me. If there was stress, I didn't manage it well last year. I didn't take photos, I don't remember Christmas. As usual, Ty was my rock. Maybe he knows that, I can never be totally sure. When I thank him for everything here and there he brushes it off like any real hero does.
There have been a few other unsung heroes. Girls in my life whose friendships I rekindled out of love and loyalty that make my life more complete. The men that moved that still check in because 2008 changed us. My married friends that keep me laughing, even if it's just to whine with wine on the floor while our kids play outside. The men in my life who are back, even if it's in smaller degrees, because deep down, they are good men and care, and I have something with each of them and they know this too. I have no regrets because I can't live my life going backwards.
And now I am drawing near to the end of year two at Ryerson. My paper due tomorrow, well, a story/memoir, rather, is about The Ex Husband. It is the last deadline before a week of exams. The paper is difficult to write. Not difficult like an essay and definitely not as hard as writing about my father's death, but hard. That unique tension comes back and hits me in the chest and I forget to breathe. It's like life around me stops or spins and takes me back to the bad memories I forgot, or buried. Part of me doesn't care what grade I get on this paper. To relive my courtroom drama and to even write his name, gets an A+ in my books, when the man himself deserves and is, a total "fail", now more than ever.
The next few months will be interesting chapters in my life, that's for sure, but I'm still embracing this new(ish) year.
What's going on in that beautiful mind?
I'm on your magical mystery ride….
-John Legend "All of Me"
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Saturday, August 31, 2013
No Title Necessary
No one tells you it doesn't get easier.
You manage to get past that frantic baby stage two times over with one precious baby girl, and precocious baby boy. You race through the crazy toddler years, and you think, finally, I will get the reprieve I have been waiting for....that little tiny bit of quiet back, or at least some small bit of independence from the years of minute by minute parenting. The bits of peace and happy silence come, as does a child's independence, but it doesn't get easier. The questions about why mommy and daddy fight and why an 8 year old girl "has to have" divorced parents, come more often than you imagined they would. You sit on the eve of that divorce date and thought that too, would get easier. "That" being the relationship you essentially have to have with the Ex because he is the father of your children. But it does not, has not, become easier. The text from him today was "If you don't mind just telling me what you are after maybe we could move past this". You stare at that text on your Blackberry, alone in your kitchen, for quite some time with one-word answers like "respect", "kindness", and "co-operation" dancing around in your head. Instead you don't respond, not yet at least. It isn't the kind of answer you text to the man you married 10 years ago that you don't even recognize today.
So following the diminishing tantrums of the afternoon, where you just want to bang your head against the wall, wondering why tantrums still exist (or is it just called attitude, now?) and you write. You recall the better moments when your children were not fighting with each other, or with you. You recall last Christmas when the Ex came to your family's Christmas feast and you and he took your children ice skating.
You recall and you write. And you tell yourself, one day, it will get better. And hopefully that one day is soon.
You manage to get past that frantic baby stage two times over with one precious baby girl, and precocious baby boy. You race through the crazy toddler years, and you think, finally, I will get the reprieve I have been waiting for....that little tiny bit of quiet back, or at least some small bit of independence from the years of minute by minute parenting. The bits of peace and happy silence come, as does a child's independence, but it doesn't get easier. The questions about why mommy and daddy fight and why an 8 year old girl "has to have" divorced parents, come more often than you imagined they would. You sit on the eve of that divorce date and thought that too, would get easier. "That" being the relationship you essentially have to have with the Ex because he is the father of your children. But it does not, has not, become easier. The text from him today was "If you don't mind just telling me what you are after maybe we could move past this". You stare at that text on your Blackberry, alone in your kitchen, for quite some time with one-word answers like "respect", "kindness", and "co-operation" dancing around in your head. Instead you don't respond, not yet at least. It isn't the kind of answer you text to the man you married 10 years ago that you don't even recognize today.
So following the diminishing tantrums of the afternoon, where you just want to bang your head against the wall, wondering why tantrums still exist (or is it just called attitude, now?) and you write. You recall the better moments when your children were not fighting with each other, or with you. You recall last Christmas when the Ex came to your family's Christmas feast and you and he took your children ice skating.
You recall and you write. And you tell yourself, one day, it will get better. And hopefully that one day is soon.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Not Broken
Goddam that we are here again, back in our good spot, the better spot when it's everything and it's more than even our best friendship and you say there is no one else, and I give us any day and night we want-not just Mondays- and soon I have to count down the days to another "see you soon" that will result in tears-mine- and maybe yours, but you hate to see or hear me cry, probably hate if you show the same so you will do that stare, clench the jaw, and with all of your strength and your mighty arms show me we will be fine, or at least we will pretend that I will try to be fine and I will miss you miss you miss you because goddam it, four and a half years is a long time and we never thought we'd be here still, again and again and all those countless hours and soon I will wait for the countdown that you come back home.
"you said it was dangerous after Sunday
and I knew you loved me"
"you said it was dangerous after Sunday
and I knew you loved me"
Friday, December 21, 2012
december
My last post was July 16th. Today is December 21st. And while the end of the world did not happen today (unless this is all a dream), five months have gone by and I really don't even know why I haven't written.
12 days after the last post, I met a man, J. I feel he needs recognition. I mean, my blog IS called Lisa, Love and Life, and I feel the love part hasn't been written about enough. Slow down, people. You know that by love, I usually mean the hot sex I have....uh huuuh. Ok, I laugh as I say that, but more so only because I wrote it. Back to J.....the meeting was, well, movie-esque, and here was a man, that really was my equivalent in the flirt department. Dayum. Chemistry. But more than that, this guy made me laugh. Like, really laugh. Like, everything we said to one another was funny, and it wasn't the Heineken talking. When you're hot and funny, well, dayum again. And in the male department, I have only been around few men like this. Ones that make you laugh, and, well, sparkle. And on July 28th, I really needed that. Here he was, with his adorable two friends, on a night I almost didn't even go out. He will be written about in greater detail one day. The story is just too much for this blog post tonight but it will make a great chapter in the book. Oh yes, the infamous book that has yet to see fruition. But when a story, well, a reality, happens like J, it cannot go without mention. I think I have worried him about this book, when he knows I am serious his name and events of that night will be included in my future work of art. Oh but we laugh about it, and actually still do. Five months later.
I have said to a few close friends recently, that is hard for me to believe when I am happy. Even if happiness comes in fleeting hours or lasts over just a day, or a night with this J fellow, a sense of forboding sometimes hovers around it and screams, "Lisa! How can you have happiness at a time like this?" At a time like what, I scream back, silently, of course, for I am luckily no where near crazy town (yet). But really, why can't I be happy, or better, why can't I be happy with small happiness?
Sometimes I catch myself remembering the days my babies were actual babies. I see that girl in the photos, 4, 5, 6 years ago, and sometimes wonder why I don't see that same smile much anymore. Yeah, shit has happened. Good God we know it has happened. My quest for love continues of course. But I have so much to be happy about even if the big everlasting committment or love hasn't happened yet. I have gone back to university, and with the first semester done, I really am proud to brag about my grades. Two kids and university. With my kids shouting out that I am a student like them.
It won't be with J, yes, I know this, sad but true, and the big everlasting committment or love might not happen or find me for quite some time. But I have men in my life as companions and friends, and sometimes the unlikely (ah, sweet young Tyler) become the very good friends that were never expected.
So if any of you were wondering where I have been, I am here. Still smiling as much as possible and trying to stay in the happiness moments. I am not one for many cliches, or mantras to help me move forward. To be honest, I'm kinda sick of those, haha. I read less of what people are saying out there, unless of course it makes me laugh a little more, and just try to focus on what I have versus what I don't have.
We're entering a new year. If anyone had warned me of what 2012 would bring or how fast it would go, I would have said, "nonsense". But here I am, writing about that nonsense now.
12 days after the last post, I met a man, J. I feel he needs recognition. I mean, my blog IS called Lisa, Love and Life, and I feel the love part hasn't been written about enough. Slow down, people. You know that by love, I usually mean the hot sex I have....uh huuuh. Ok, I laugh as I say that, but more so only because I wrote it. Back to J.....the meeting was, well, movie-esque, and here was a man, that really was my equivalent in the flirt department. Dayum. Chemistry. But more than that, this guy made me laugh. Like, really laugh. Like, everything we said to one another was funny, and it wasn't the Heineken talking. When you're hot and funny, well, dayum again. And in the male department, I have only been around few men like this. Ones that make you laugh, and, well, sparkle. And on July 28th, I really needed that. Here he was, with his adorable two friends, on a night I almost didn't even go out. He will be written about in greater detail one day. The story is just too much for this blog post tonight but it will make a great chapter in the book. Oh yes, the infamous book that has yet to see fruition. But when a story, well, a reality, happens like J, it cannot go without mention. I think I have worried him about this book, when he knows I am serious his name and events of that night will be included in my future work of art. Oh but we laugh about it, and actually still do. Five months later.
I have said to a few close friends recently, that is hard for me to believe when I am happy. Even if happiness comes in fleeting hours or lasts over just a day, or a night with this J fellow, a sense of forboding sometimes hovers around it and screams, "Lisa! How can you have happiness at a time like this?" At a time like what, I scream back, silently, of course, for I am luckily no where near crazy town (yet). But really, why can't I be happy, or better, why can't I be happy with small happiness?
Sometimes I catch myself remembering the days my babies were actual babies. I see that girl in the photos, 4, 5, 6 years ago, and sometimes wonder why I don't see that same smile much anymore. Yeah, shit has happened. Good God we know it has happened. My quest for love continues of course. But I have so much to be happy about even if the big everlasting committment or love hasn't happened yet. I have gone back to university, and with the first semester done, I really am proud to brag about my grades. Two kids and university. With my kids shouting out that I am a student like them.
It won't be with J, yes, I know this, sad but true, and the big everlasting committment or love might not happen or find me for quite some time. But I have men in my life as companions and friends, and sometimes the unlikely (ah, sweet young Tyler) become the very good friends that were never expected.
So if any of you were wondering where I have been, I am here. Still smiling as much as possible and trying to stay in the happiness moments. I am not one for many cliches, or mantras to help me move forward. To be honest, I'm kinda sick of those, haha. I read less of what people are saying out there, unless of course it makes me laugh a little more, and just try to focus on what I have versus what I don't have.
We're entering a new year. If anyone had warned me of what 2012 would bring or how fast it would go, I would have said, "nonsense". But here I am, writing about that nonsense now.
Friday, November 16, 2012
always undone
It has been months since I have written. In the space between then and now, there has been love, or I guess, lust, on a few levels. I feel I should speak of love if that's a word in my blog name, even if I haven't had the heart to cheer up the blog space and turn the black to a heart-felt, love-lust red. Black and grey can stay for now. Ok, let's get to it.
I met J on July 28th. Why I remember this is because that day and night will be forever memorable. And I really can't share ALL the details, for that book I talk about has to really be broken into (and you cats know if you'll be in it..oh, you know!)
I met J on July 28th. Why I remember this is because that day and night will be forever memorable. And I really can't share ALL the details, for that book I talk about has to really be broken into (and you cats know if you'll be in it..oh, you know!)
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Ryan and Megan
I have always believed we are meant to meet the people we meet. When you are least expecting someone to change you, or your way of seeing things, or that someone just shows you true beauty, it is all part of God's, or Fate's plan. It is your path and your destination at that moment. Perhaps you will never see or talk to that person again, but that person will settle into the creases of your mind and stay forever.
I met such a person last Saturday night. It wasn't lost on me that the meeting occurred at a bar, but I didn't care. It was as though a magnetic force pulled us together and forced a late of evening of laughter and flirting to the highest degree where feeling like we had known each other for years was an understatement. Did I mention I have not laughed like this for over a year and a half? We slightly ignored our sets of friends, found ourselves sharing phone numbers and phone pins, and knew the night would not end there.
I met such a person last Saturday night. It wasn't lost on me that the meeting occurred at a bar, but I didn't care. It was as though a magnetic force pulled us together and forced a late of evening of laughter and flirting to the highest degree where feeling like we had known each other for years was an understatement. Did I mention I have not laughed like this for over a year and a half? We slightly ignored our sets of friends, found ourselves sharing phone numbers and phone pins, and knew the night would not end there.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Party of Three
I miss my father on many levels. I miss him on occasions, like my daughter's upcoming birthday, but mostly I miss him for the daily bits- the times when I'd get his advice even if I didn't ask for it, hear his reaction to things, and hear him sum up his opinions like only my father could do; like the only male in the family could do. Above all, I miss my old family dynamic. It's true what I read, when a key person in the family dies, it changes the whole configuration of your family.
There are simply just the three of us now. I have never had a big family and the extended family we do have.....well, half my dad's side are faraway, and older with no children and the other half chose to cut us out the day my father died. Pettiness, grave unfortunate pettiness, that turned grief to spite and we were to blame for everything. My mom's family side, though quite extensive, was never really a big part of our lives, minus the weddings and reunions. I don't have cousins I reach out to, or aunts and uncles I feel close to. It's kind of sad. And now, without my father, there is simply just the three of us: my mom, my sister and I. And I miss our dynamic of being a foursome. I miss my other parent.
When you're the youngest, it is also a different dynamic in the family. I love reading about roles in a family and how birth order dictates so much, though we are all unconscious of it. The older sibling develops and is treated one way, as is the middle child and the youngest.
It's been hard during the times that I don't feel my opinion in our new family dynamic counts, or if I'm not heard. I feel bad for my mom if and when she feels she has to take sides, which of course, she does not. Or if she does, maybe it's that she takes both sides, even if both daughters are unaware. I get it, it keeps the peace.
I feel that I try to make the wrongs right, and quickly when the wrongs happen. Recently, I realized I always am the one to make it right first. I wave the white flag, say the apology and reach out first, even when I'm not sure an apology is needed. It's what I do. I don't particularly enjoy the strife of a family disagreement. I don't condone silent treatments.
But this time I won't be the white flag waver. This time I have nothing to say and to me, it's too late for anyone else to say anything now. I'm tired of the moment passing with others, if they choose to not address the issue at hand, comments made that they didn't like or agree with, then why should I worry how they react or handle things much after the fact? It is something I need to work on and I'm a slow learner, clearly. Years of not resolving things quicker and pandering to others to make them feel better and to make their fight go away. No thanks. Aren't we adults? Is it always up to the youngest? Is it a Pisces thing???!!!
Ah Dad, what would you say?
There are simply just the three of us now. I have never had a big family and the extended family we do have.....well, half my dad's side are faraway, and older with no children and the other half chose to cut us out the day my father died. Pettiness, grave unfortunate pettiness, that turned grief to spite and we were to blame for everything. My mom's family side, though quite extensive, was never really a big part of our lives, minus the weddings and reunions. I don't have cousins I reach out to, or aunts and uncles I feel close to. It's kind of sad. And now, without my father, there is simply just the three of us: my mom, my sister and I. And I miss our dynamic of being a foursome. I miss my other parent.
When you're the youngest, it is also a different dynamic in the family. I love reading about roles in a family and how birth order dictates so much, though we are all unconscious of it. The older sibling develops and is treated one way, as is the middle child and the youngest.
It's been hard during the times that I don't feel my opinion in our new family dynamic counts, or if I'm not heard. I feel bad for my mom if and when she feels she has to take sides, which of course, she does not. Or if she does, maybe it's that she takes both sides, even if both daughters are unaware. I get it, it keeps the peace.
I feel that I try to make the wrongs right, and quickly when the wrongs happen. Recently, I realized I always am the one to make it right first. I wave the white flag, say the apology and reach out first, even when I'm not sure an apology is needed. It's what I do. I don't particularly enjoy the strife of a family disagreement. I don't condone silent treatments.
But this time I won't be the white flag waver. This time I have nothing to say and to me, it's too late for anyone else to say anything now. I'm tired of the moment passing with others, if they choose to not address the issue at hand, comments made that they didn't like or agree with, then why should I worry how they react or handle things much after the fact? It is something I need to work on and I'm a slow learner, clearly. Years of not resolving things quicker and pandering to others to make them feel better and to make their fight go away. No thanks. Aren't we adults? Is it always up to the youngest? Is it a Pisces thing???!!!
Ah Dad, what would you say?
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