After leaving the gyn, I went straight home. A candle was lit and my hands started writing about my feeligns. The news was not bad; however, it tugged on a few strings for me. Surgery was offered as an option. My immediate response was that unless it is required, I do not want it. A course of action was determined in order for me to remain under observation. When I wrote that I felt all alone, Niagara Falls suddenly filled the living room. Afterwards, a massage was scheduled and my evening unfolded.
It was close to midnight when it scurried across my path. While looking for my phone charger, a kitten appeared out of thin air. It was soon sitting in my lap purring away. We spent what felt like an hour together. My eyes focused on the beautiful full moon as a smile crossed my face. I asked the kitten who sent you to me? Because I knew that it was a gift from God to ease my sorrows. We played together and rolled around my porch. It even followed me to my door and would be inside now had I not explained that a pet is not on my agenda. Granted, if it is still there in the morning…..
As my feet walked me away from the drum circle, the sand clumped along my legs. My multi colored scarf covered my lower portion as I simply couldn’t resist not taking a dip in the moon kissed ocean. A feeling of attention hit me. It occurred to me that a drummer was going to ask me out. As soon as I got to the fence, he turned around and acknowledged me. He introduced himself and got down to business.
My mind, my heart, my spirit all agree…there is no way that I can get involved with another human being right now. It is not the time in my life to be romantic or entertain such notions. However, the idea that men are noticing me during this period of my life is a form of entertainment for me. A few weeks ago, an old flame contacted me for lunch. He was in town and wanted to reconnect. What in the world is the universe laying at my feet?
As you live your life in the aftermath of a parental transition, you experience a shadow that you can not visually see. You feel it every day. A wide range of emotions occur. You find yourself crying without explanation and extreme joy in random situations. Everyone has to face this experience. When I look at my mother now, my feelings are quite different. It is a blessing that I have her; however, the feeling of the ticking clock is not one that shakes off me easily.
This is my third encounter with death on a personal level. It has been different each time with each man. The murder of my boyfriend was unbearable and left me in a state of shock for approximately six months. It was not long ago that I lost a friend to yet another murder. The transition of my father is bittersweet. My understanding of what happens after the spirit leaves the body is more solid now than it was before. What I am experiencing now is the concept of never speaking to my father in his physical body again in my life. The truth of the matter is that I speak to him every day. When I wake up, I say good morning Daddy. We share a breakfast beverage before my schedule gets underway. We share conversations throughout the day and then a prayer before bed.
Music in all of its forms gets me through the day; Performing, listening, composing, and advising. The radio is on throughout the day. It is switched to my IPHONE at night for meditation music for sleeping purposes. Do I have bad moments? Of course. That is simply the nature of the beast. An amazing thing that has happened is that new people have befriended me during all of this. We chat and make plans for merriment and fun. My heart wants to be happy which is what I shall strive to be.
The physical separation is difficult. My mind eases knowing that one day, I shall be in my father’s arms again. We shall watch a movie and eat popcorn. I will perform songs from Phantom of the Opera. Why, we can even compare our bald heads…
These days find me in place where I am not as introverted. Talking to people is very pleasant, and alone time isn’t craved as much as it was before. It is also my belief that long periods inside the house are troublesome for me. After an evening performance with an appreciative audience, my mother wasn’t responding to my calls. Alas, this left me no choice but to return to my home all by my lonesome.
Thoughts of the Oreo cookie cake filled my mind as my instrument was unloaded. Perhaps there would be a good movie on Netflix. The FB messenger indicated that a friend wanted me to go to the drum circle. It had been quite some time since I attended one. As a smile crossed my made up face, beach attire was put together and out the door I went.
I nestled into the sand and gazed at the beauty of the full moon overlooking all of us. The pull of her glory simply captivated me. My father crossed my mind as if he were sitting next to me admiring the moon too. It made me smile. He probably has a new perspective of everything on earth and the universe. My friend soon arrived and we made our way to the drums. It was there that we unleashed the shimmies and the shakes; there is something ancestral about a drum that just makes you want to be a part of the rhythm.
It had been on my mind for a while now. My hands were grabbing a lot of hair when they graced my head. Combing was once again becoming difficult, and the desire to groom myself was growing. I marched into the barbershop and asked for the spirited Nikko. My instructions were simple; I do not want to have to comb or brush anything, but I do not want to be bald. Ten minutes later, the reflection of myself in the mirror did not please me. The exchange of energy in the form of cash occurred, and my car carried me back to my home. It happened there.
My mirror gave me a good long look at me. My bald head was very naked. It suddenly pleased me. The idea that there wasn’t anything for me to hide behind was invigorating. My make up and smile would only enhance the lack of anything on top of my head. It consumed the entire mirror, and soon appeared on social media. It was a good feeling.
The fear that goes into inviting a person to lunch is absolutely ridiculous. Perhaps fear is not the word. There is hesitation. Why? Overanalyzing each and every single situation seems to be my downfall. Every possibly scenario plays itself out in my head. I apparently do this so very much that when I decided to shave my head without so much as a scheduled appointment, shockwaves went throughout the earth. It felt good to follow my vision of perfectly crafted eyebrows with a clean shaven head. I was called bold, beautiful, and outright sexy. This was throwing caution to the wind at its finest. Inviting this person to lunch….let’s see if I can get my introverted self to take that step….
Upon awakening yesterday, I decided that I was going to get all dolled up and head out into the world. There was a snazzy casual outfit that formed and my face was done to perfection. Some of my make up had finally been replenished at the MAC counter, and the mirror made for a wonderful friend. The matching bag in tow made for a rather coordinated lady. The first stop was my local music store for the pricing of music stands and informative small talk.
While inside Sam Ash, the pricing of the music stands was fair; however, I voiced my concern for the flimsy wire things that simply did not make sense to me. Their existence was explained to me as a cringe crept over my face. It made more sense to me to simply spend the money on a stand that would actually hold music instead of watching entire pages fall or be taken by the wind. Perhaps this is my opinion because I am a professional musician. A text came through about a possible job from an old friend. My car soon said hello and took me down south to the land of Richmond Heights. This is the realm of my youth and the domain of my mother. . We chatted and made plans to make future progress.
We decided to run some errands together and then dine at IHOP. As we entered the establishment, there were many things that crumbled under her rather critical eye. All of a sudden the familiar face of a percussionist soon turned into a pleasant conversation; there were new jobs at new locations. When we were finally seated, there were more unpleasant statements that did not make for the glorification of a day thanks to my mother. The food soon came to the table when I noticed that my chicken tender sauce was vanishing without my assistance. She wanted to know why her food did not come with the sauce and how could she possibly be served in such a manner. The waiter was nabbed and attacked with my pleas of another round of sauce so that I could possibly have the chance to enjoy my lunch. Everything turned out fine.
While watching the Sex in the City marathon, happy thoughts crossed my mind. It had been an informal music morning. It occurred to me that maybe these nice things happened because my face looked so good. It was certainly a good thing that I looked radiant because I ran into people. My goodness the horror of being seen and looking drab could make for a hideous memory. The whole make up thing never happened to me. Its use was not encouraged during my upbringing and it never really surfaced as an adult. It was not until a rather fashionable friend took my face into her own hands and made me look like the next thing walking down the runway; this was soon followed by my mother gifting me a make over at the MAC counter. Your present day Lady likes to watch youtube videos to learn make up tricks to keep myself looking amazing. I finally mastered the smokey eye look in time for an event last week, and the fall will bring the arrival of the highly anticipated brushes. All of this excitement from facial art!