Suits

What is it about a man in a suit that makes him look professional, believable, and kinda sexy?

I've been watching - and sometimes binge-watching - the show Suits on Netflix.   And oooo those suit wearing men are so handsome!   And the main character, Harvey, is able to say so much with just a look!  He's got those eyes!

But it got me thinking about suits.  I grew up going to church every Sunday, and Mom dressed us.  My sister and I always had black patent leather shoes for fall/winter and white ones every spring.  Dad wore a suit to church, us girls in dresses.  When I was grown up and out of the house, I changed churches, attended a larger church where suits on the men, dresses on the women was quite standard.  My husband at the time also owned his own tux because it was required at times, as well.  It was the 90s, and we weren't casual.  Maybe we were a little pretentious.  As I look back on it, I sometimes felt like we were pretending to be something we weren't.   Cuz we didn't come from money, and we weren't in that social class.  Can I still refer to it that way?  Sometimes I fear I might be speaking out of turn. 

Now that I live in Arizona, I work in retail, you get what you see and what you see is what you get.  I don't "put on airs" to try to be something I'm not.  I wear jeans most days, tennis shoes, and usually some kind of polo shirt.   Life here is pretty casual, laid back..  I'm sure there are other parts of the state where that might not be true.   While I'm not opposed to dressing up if the occasion calls for it, the fancy clothes from back then are gone. Mostly. 

But a man in a suit ...... still makes my heart pitter patter! 

Birthdays

What is it about birthdays?   I looked at Google and found:

While many cultures developed birthday celebrations separately, the Egyptians were the first ones to get the party started. When Egyptian pharaohs were crowned gods, they were “birthed.” That means the first birthday celebration wasn't marking the birth of a human, but rather the birth of a god.

Well, history blurb aside, (and I'm definitely not a god!!)  what determines how a person decides to celebrate a birthday?  I've never been big on celebrations dictated to land on a certain day.  With my kids going to their dad's every other weekend, or for six weeks each summer, it wasn't the actual date that made the celebration, it was whenever we made the choice to celebrate.  My mom, on the other hand, is really big on celebrating on the actual day.  With my 64th coming up, she's making plans for dinner, a cake, and wants to know what I'll be doing.  I don't want to hurt her feelings, or bruise her need for these celebrations, but I haven't celebrated my birthday in many years. 

And that caused me to think about the past.  I was born in the summer, during a thunderstorm (which might account for my liking those kinds of storms!!) and when you're young and it falls in summer, the opportunity for birthday parties is pretty small.  Families are on vacation, kids are scattered for a lot of different reasons.  I didn't have large parties, but sometimes a couple neighbors came over.  But more often than not, it as just family.   In comparison, my sister was born in March, school in full swing, and she liked people, always had a large party.   So is my dislike for birthdays because of the whens and whys as a child?  Or maybe its a symptom left over from lousy husbands?  

Either way, just like all the other holidays, it's just another day.  Sometimes I work, sometimes I stay home and do my usual routines.  Ad sometimes I'm surprised out of the blue.  Annie, at work, surprised me with a bag of 8 different chocolate bars!  That's enough for me, I don't have expectations about presents, a fancy meal, or birthday cake.  It just isn't my thing!

Happy 64th to me! 

Grief's Route

It's been four years since I lost my son to suicide, and the hardest thing to come to terms with is how the grief process isn't a smooth road.  In fact, it's not only a rough road, it's full of twists and turns and backtracking at times.  That's probably the hardest part of grief.  One day, one moment, you think you're gotten past the hardest parts, and then Wham! you're right back in the center of it.

When I keep busy, I do ok.  But when it gets too busy, and stress builds, it all comes back in a flurry.  Sometimes I think of it as an Arizona dust storm (haboob, if you will).  It starts off slowly, and builds and builds, eventually the dusty winds roll over you, you're in the center, and sometimes you don't realize it until it's already pulled you in.  Waiting it out isn't pleasant but eventually you're out the other side.

Sometimes the unanswered questions get you down.  Sometimes it's wondering if you had said just one thing different, done one thing different, would it have changed things?  Eventually you learn to accept that you will never have answers to those things.  And you have to live with that knowledge. 

My son and I were close, we did many things together.  I'm lucky I have those memories.  But they don't always outweigh the heartache that comes with the loss.  

Synchronicity

 Every now and then, a song comes on the radio, and you're instantly transported to another place and time.  Music memory is funny that way.  Or is it the reverse?  Does thinking of a memory bring up the song associated with that memory?  

On the drive home yesterday, an old Toby Keith song came on, and I sang along, loudly!  "I'm not as good as I once was, but I'm good once as I always was."  Chuck's theme song, he sang it to me often when I would answer the phone.  He made me chuckle every single time.  What a great, fond memory.  And I miss him.

Today on the way home it was Tim McGraw's song, "Always Stay Humble and Kind".  That was my sister's favorite song and today is the anniversary of her death three years ago.  The timing was uncanny!

Synchronicity?

The universe reminding me?

Either?    Both?

I'm grateful for the reminder. It made me smile!

Four Years Ago

July 2 was the fourth anniversary since my son Brian died.  Time passes in a different dimension when your child dies.  The daily tasks that are somewhat mundane but necessary keep me moving in a semi forward direction.  But its not always forward.

There are days when the grief is still overwhelming, even after four years.  There are days when I feel alone, that no one even remembers him.  I know that death is an awkward subject for most people.  Suicide is even worse.  I also know that most people don't know what to say to those of us who have lost someone. 

But because he asked, I go on with my days, trying to be happy,  to find joy in the little things.  To honor him.  Because I love him.