Living with My Dad, Remembering My Mama

I’ve been in an altogether different headspace over the past few weeks, which is to be expected what with my mother’s passing, our move, rearranged living circumstances, etc.  I haven’t forgotten this blog–far from it, I’m simply refining some ideas, and waiting for the right time to execute some changes that will affect the overall vibe of this place, as well as my otherwisequitegood.com site.  Bit of a change of direction is in order for this cosmic traveler and her work!

I’m listening to a song right now (Okay, it’s Panic! At the Disco.  Don’t hate.) that just sang the line, “Hey kid, you’ll never leave this town,” and it’s a funny coincidence, because I was always afraid of being that kid.  The kid who’d be agonizingly stuck in Middle-o-Nowhere, Texas, with a perpetual “present tense” that never changed.  And now, 12 years later, I’m living in my childhood home–and feeling NONE of that whatsoever.  If you’d been able to show me a “preview” of now, even a month or two ago, I would have been amazed.  (Initially, I was going to say “disbelieving”, but quite clearly I WAS able to believe it, because otherwise it wouldn’t have happened!  Ha!)

No, all the bad tidings that I feared a move into this place would bring were really just paranoid nonsense.  We love it here.

No, really.  It’s flippin’ awesome.  An acre and a third out in the country versus a cramped, mildewy apartment is heaven.  The kids are so free and happy here.  We already have gardening plans in the works, and we’re gonna plant a Magnolia tree with Nikolas’ placenta (finally), in honor of my mama.  Magnolias were my mom’s favorite tree, and the miserable ordeal that ended with her passing, started with her falling and breaking a hip–right after my fourth son’s amazingly wonderful home-birth.    (Which I shall post here, straightaway!)

I even like living with my dad.  Three years ago, he wasn’t speaking to me.  Two years ago, he had only recently met my then-one year old daughter, and still wasn’t speaking to my husband.  Now, I brew coffee for both of us in the morning, and he sometimes calls me on my cell phone to ask (jokingly!) about room service…!  Being around the kids seems to energize and mellow my dad, and he’s finally lost the “grouchy old mean-guy” disposition, for the most part–which he even had when *I* was a girl!  He likes my husband, but there’s no weird powertrippy stuff or dominance fights going on either.  And I don’t remotely feel that he’s trying to usurp my power or strongarm my family with his “advice” and opinions–such a nice, new feeling…!

My dad bought himself a motorcycle (!), and he really wants us to ride with him–to the extent that he might even buy a second bike one day.  He wants to travel–or in his words, “disappear over the summer”, and with us here to care for his cats, he can do that without guilt or worry.  Those cats were my mother’s babies–Ginger and Pepper (AKA “The Spice Girls” – Yep, she really did–LOL.), and they are the two most paranoid, skittish Persians I’ve ever seen.

My sweet friend Susan did an intuitive reading for me recently, and she said (among other things that were spot-on) that the feeling she was getting from my mom was “ecstatic” – like, almost manic, thrilled, brilliant happiness.  She was almost hesitant to say it…as if a recently departed soul shouldn’t be coming through that way!  My husband (another scary-deep intuitive) actually used the same word about her energy earlier.  Isn’t that curious??

Well, the way that they explained it was that my mom’s greatest desire was always to bring her family closer together.  She ached, those years that my dad and I didn’t speak.  So I wouldn’t be at all surprised if she is “checking in” on us, and feeling like, “HA!  Finally, they get it!”  In a way, her ordeal has healed mine and my dad’s relationship in ways that may never have happened otherwise–and I think she’s enjoying a sort of “last laugh” about that.

She used to say things like “Love will prevail!” all the time.  You were right after all, mama…

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