OHHH what's 12, 13 years....

BLOGGER!  OH how I have missed thee!  Well ok, truth be told I haven't thought much about blabbing my inner most thoughts for some time- again, laziness, age, mortgages, adult children, small godchildren, kinda, sorta take up a lot of time, ya dig?

I used to be able to come up with plithy dribble at the drop of a hat.  I'd be drifting off to sleep, wondering why my thoughts were racing, and instead of counting sheep, I would get up, boot the old "Gateway" desktop (sitting next to our bed), and write a half hour diatribe about insomnia and stupid shit entering my nighttime thought process ("did I pay the DP&L bill, why is an olive floating in my brain).  I would see a commercial for "E-Harmony" and immediately write a damn Lifetime in my head- complete with names and weirdo scenarios.

Then eh, again, who knows what happened?  I always blame shit on "getting older", but I honestly think my new passions in the evenings were no bra, PJs, and any game that I could download onto my phone.  Dont get me wrong, those are STILL my PASSIONS (I will be playing that shit sans 8:42pm later this evening), but something lately has just rejuvinated my want.. no, my NEED to write?  If only for those that know me to read and begin compiling "evidence" for my commitment hearings down the road.

It possibly began this past Sunday.  It was Easter Sunday to be exact.  We just got done having an amazing family get together at my daughter and son in law's house, and because I can't leave any dish "unwashed", I stayed behind to help them with K-P detail.  My sister and her family went to the cemetery to visit my dad, nephew, and grandparents, and once I was done, and since St D and Abs drove home separately, I ventured to said cemetery on my own to pay my respects.

I used to love cemeteries.  I mean I would go on my lunch break (when I took them) and walk around, visiting "older" relatives, enjoying the peace.  The tranquility if you will.  Sunday was a gorgeous day- sunny, not super chilly... I found myself kneeling over my nephew and my dad, picking a few weeds around their stones... apologizing for stepping on them.  I then drove to the back of said cemetery and talked smack with my bestie's daughter... 

Then I realized- I was weeding my nephews tombstone.  I was talking smack to my best friend's daughter... laughing with my dad at how I hoped I wasn't stepping on his nutsack.

I realized- fucking life got in the way.

It smacks you in the face like an anvil.  It takes those that you love with every ounce of your soul without even asking permission.  

I've been absent from writing for some time, but I can guaran-freakin-tee you, the last 7 years, I've had no joy in regailing anything in writing.  We as a family and close knit friend community trudge on- we god damn HAVE TO!  And life in general is glorious.  Redd in Shawshank said it best-"get busy living, or get busy dying".  LIFE took that away from those we have lost.  WE have a choice.  So we get busy LIVING every. Damn. Day.  And I find beauty in the most ordinary things.

But sometimes, I'm reminded that "some birds aren't meant to be caged, their feathers are just too bright.  And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice, but still the place that you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone.  I guess I just miss my friend." 

I need to stop being afraid to write.  I need to laugh at the ridiculous.  I need to take my insomnia and turn it into an imaginary story of the ants I saw in my bathroom one night and their sad stories of their anthill condos being destroyed by leaf blowers.. and how Chris and Stephanie now have to find subsidized housing...

I wanna get back to silly.