Happy Birthday To Me

You often ask me why it is that I’ve never written you poems, or written about you in blogs, or done this or that and how and why I used to for others (to which I have to ask, What others? ^_^), and it’s always been difficult to put to words. But the truth of the matter is that’s why I’ve never put it to words…always before I’ve used words as a medium to describe my feelings, thoughts, and experiences. To clarify the cloud in my mind and fit the varying puzzle pieces together. To make sense of things. To find the calm I always felt flying would give me; the chaos and pettiness of being grounded to fall away.

And I have. There aren’t words to describe how much strength and support I receive each and every day knowing that you love me. There aren’t words to describe the gratitude and appreciation I have for everything you do for me and my family. And there aren’t words to describe the clarity and calm I have with you by my side.

It had been 18 years since I'd been to Colorado Springs. Stood on the stone tiles of the terrazo. Seen the sun reflected off the chapel spires. Heard the footfalls of thousands of cadets marching in step. You gave me the courage to face and the knowledge to realize that a life I felt and dreamt would be the only one I had was false. THIS life - The person I have become, the memories I cherish, the moments I've experienced would never have been. -WE- would never have been. So regardless of the hardships we face, the daily struggles we deal with, and the setbacks we suffer, I would never trade them away if it cost me you.

But back to the topic at hand...my birthday. You often ask what I’d like to do or what I'd like to buy and get annoyed that I don’t want anything. I would say that it’s not because I don’t want anything; I would say because I’m fine. I’m content. I’m happy. Just being. Wherever that happens to be or whatever we happen to be doing. With you.

Thank you, once again, for the gift you give me every year. Happy Birthday to me.

Happy Birthday

**taken from a Facebook Note, 12/16/2015**

Tonight I'm reminded of how tiny and insignificant I am in the face of an ocean that seemingly has no ending and an island that began millions of years ago. And although that may be true, our worth, our purpose, and our short time in this world can make lasting impressions on one other just as vast and profound as Mother Nature's can.

As this year draws to a close, I'm reminded of all the memories we've made, joyful and sad - as Inside Out would call them...core memories. Memories of a reception I, we, had no right to be nervous for. Memories of my stay, our stay, within the confines of a hospital room, and memories of my struggle, our struggle, to return to normalcy. You've occupied such a short amount of time in my life, but when I think of how much I've learned, how much I've grown, and how much I've experienced with you by my side, it's difficult to picture what life was like before you and yet so easy to imagine what it will continue to be with you.

I'm reminded of my nervousness standing at the altar waiting for you to enter. It was humbling to realize that after all this time, the same nervousness and excitement I felt sitting in our ice cream parlor booth still existed within my being. Waking up next to you for the past 3 years didn't prepare me for what it would feel like to see you walking down the aisle, as beautiful as I've ever seen you, with the hope and joy of knowing there were no take backs, no returns, no exchanges. =]

I'm reminded of the nights spent on the phone with the glow of the heart monitor filling the room. More than that, I'm reminded of the nights you spent sleeping on a cot next to my bed. How difficult and different it must have been, but never once did I see you waver or grow weary. Months you spent traveling back and forth, caring for me, running errands for me, providing for me my only link to the outside. I've always known, always told you, that I didn't believe anybody could or would love me as much as you do. It's a sensation I've felt almost since the moment I met you and has given me more comfort and security than you know...seeing you make the trek every day to and from the hospital only reinforced that and my heart swells with emotion again at the thought.

I'm reminded of when I finally decided to wake up. Days I will never recall, but days of fear, worry, and uncertainty inflicted upon you and the rest of my family. My first thought, first fear was of you leaving. It's a deep seated feeling I've always had; the thought that came to the forefront of my mind was that no one else in my life had stayed. Everyone who had reached this point, this threshold, this road block...everyone who had had to make a decision to continue forward or turn away, had always chosen the latter. I didn't want to let go of your hand, didn't want you out of my sight, but you assured me you weren't going anywhere...and through it all, from the days I could barely make it out of bed to the days I got so upset for not being able to do anything on my own, you stood by me without a single word of regret or contempt, always encouraging me and helping me move forward, always proud of me for my small successes and happy for me at my larger ones.

And so here we are, in Hawaii, the first place you asked me to take you, a promise you didn't sincerely think would happen, to celebrate your 30th year of life. I hate to say that you deserve it, but for this past year, these past 4 and a half years, this is the least of what you deserve. Thank you for everything you've done for me, for us, and for our families. To many, many more years, of laughter, of tears, of new experiences and renewed ones, and of life. Happy birthday my love.

The Line

My life has been filled with valleys and peaks, ups and downs, gradual descents and careful climbs, but the memories that reside on the surface of my mind are of the plateaus with the inexplicable cliffs and the unscalable mountains with nary a handhold. It's in these memories that one wrong step would send me over the edge or a misplaced hand would have me grasping air. It's in these moments I've always struggled to see the hands reaching out to pull me up or hear the voices calling out for me to watch my step.

I've never been an oblivious person, and yet have always disregarded the strength that has grasped my hands and the warnings that have undoubtedly found their way to my ears. I've lost friends and pushed away family in my struggle to find peace within myself first, unwilling and afraid to share the chaos that ultimately resides inside of me...the battle that rages between sadness and joy, apathy and purpose, resignation and hope...The Line that has guided the direction I have traveled for the better part of 13 years.

I've always had a tenuous balance walking this line, ever terrified of slipping into the darkness below with no way to climb back into the light...and with this fear, I've always refused to allow another to walk beside me - not because I'd be unable to support or guide them, and not because I'm afraid they'd disrupt my own focus, but because if I did fall, what would happen if I reached out and was met with emptiness? Worst of all, if I was to fall, what would happen if they fell with me? I never wanted to place that burden on someone, just as I never wanted to accept that responsibility, but these questions were always at the forefront of my mind...

But you never gave credence to my concerns let alone to my questions.  You never let me turn you away, never took my reservation as a slight, and instead you convinced me to take your hand and bring you with me...and instead of unsteadiness, I found stability. Instead of a hindrance, I found relief...but most of all, I found love - not the modern word filled with responsibility and expectation, but the pure ideal unburdened and free of the strings so often attached to it.  A feeling I never believed could be constant and unwavering, but continues to be so...

You answer my questions every single day with the concern in your eyes, the worry in your voice, and the care in your touch, and the line that has not disappeared or become less treacherous has instead become easier to walk, with you. You've brought feeling back to my cold hands, hearing back to my deaf ears, and I'm now able to grasp the strength offered me and heed the warnings given me, without reservation, without shame, without fear. For that, you have my gratitude, but for everything else, you will always have my love.

Apologies

I've never been one for apologies, but please let me explain myself...when I say "apologies", I mean apologies that are coaxed, forced, or otherwise disingenuous. For all intents and purposes, I am not even angry when I hear them, but skip past anger and go straight to disappointment and wonder.

I wonder to myself how anyone could believe that an apology would be accepted AFTER everyone found out the details of an event. Oh, so you are sorry that you got drunk, got pulled over, and were 3x over the legal limit? Would you have been sorry if you didn't get caught? Would you have been sorry if you luckily got home safely and no one had been the wiser? I doubt it.

I understand that sometimes when we say something or do something it can be construed in a way we didn't intend, or affect people we didn't realize it'd affect, and sometimes I'm sorry for the misunderstanding or unintended consequences, but it's been a long time since I've consciously though through the words I'd say or actions I'd perform and been sorry for it afterward.

I'm a big believer in accountability. I'm a big believer in learning, each and every day, and when you combine the two, I'm a big believer in knowing right from wrong, especially as you get older and presumably wiser. So why is it that the older we get, the more apologies we issue and hear, as if we aren't in control of our own words or actions, and that someone else could possibly have been responsible for them instead of ourselves?

Bottom line is: If you aren't sorry the moment you do it or say it, or even better, you choose not to do it because you know you'd be sorry afterward, then you aren't sorry at all.

Choice

I'll be the first to admit that some times I judge someone based on their outward appearance: how they look, act, speak, and carry themselves. Any honest person would probably agree with me when I say I think we all do. However, I'll also freely admit that even when I take chances and opportunities, take time and make effort to get to know someone, sometimes...hopefully not many times, I end up deciding how I feel about someone, for good or ill, long before I actually know someone.

Knowing someone is such a relative and subjective qualification. Who is to say how much time you must spend or how long you need to have known someone before you can really "know" them? Is there a written rule? Is it somehow ingrained into everyone's psyche except mine? I don't believe so. It's a Choice. I decide...and because I choose, I think of all the times when I wished for one more day, one more conversation, one more moment in the hopes that I could impart some knowledge of myself to someone else, as if it'd make a difference. It is why I often find myself choosing to spend one more moment, one more conversation, one more day to learn that little bit more about someone because it does make a difference...

I make the choice to open my mind to things I never once was able to fathom - to new ideas, different circumstances, infinite possibilities and objectivity I didn't know before. The choice to accept someone for who they are, aware of where they've been and what they've been through, aware that every step they've tread has led them to the person I see before me. The choice to be sincere and genuine, not only in words, but in actions and in heart...and especially the choice to cherish and love freely and truly, without reservation and bias.

I've noticed in my lifetime that THAT choice, to love without reservation and bias is something that is extremely difficult. It is something my mom would claim isn't possible except with someone who is of your own flesh and blood. We all think we can do it, we all think we actually do it, and yet when the choice is upon us, we must confront the fact that maybe we haven't done it at all...that there's always an expectation we have of the other, a return for the love we've provided, a reservation we keep in case of emergencies, a neglect we would never have toward ourselves or our children, and a selfishness that we wouldn't want to admit existed in the way we love.

It is a difficult thing, to believe it of others and especially of myself, but I've found it within myself, acknowledged it, confronted it, and I know as much as it is possible to know, what my Choice is.

The Light

Everyone speaks of the light at the end of the tunnel. The light that shines from Heaven to guide your soul to where it belongs, to where it shall return...but there is no tunnel. There aren't trumpets blaring, angels singing...there was only light...The light acting as a backdrop for all the memories of my past.

It's strange when you consider how difficult it usually is to remember your childhood, but they were the most vivid memories of all. Memories of my first day of school, walking hand in hand with my grandmother. Of sitting in a concrete pipe with Anza, waiting for my brother to get out of class so we could walk home together. Of swinging He-Man swords and watching fireworks at Disneyland. Of Simon Says, Mother May I, Red Rover, Mario Bros, Four Square and Hand Ball. Of 25 cent "giant" cookies and Popcorn Fridays. Of attending my first class at Bray Elementary. Of making new friends, the best of friends, and of being DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince...of my first kiss, and my first love.

The more recent the memories, the more quickly they passed by, the harder they were to distinguish. Memories of my adolescence and memories that were fresh in my mind became convoluted, all flashing before my eyes in a blur, quickly entering and leaving my field of vision as others lingered at the corners of my sight. So many memories...so much joy and happiness, sadness and heartbreak, so much...Life. You never truly see how much of it you experience, how much it truly means to you as you do when it is about to be taken away...

I thought to myself...this can’t be the end. The thought that it wasn't fair never crossed my mind because I didn't think it was possible...I couldn't fathom it...for this to be the end. I had so much more to live for, so much more to do. I wanted to see my cousins grow up. I wanted to steer them around the potholes I fell in, to prevent the pain that was unavoidable for me, and if I couldn't, to pick them up when they fell down. I wanted to truly love, to be selfless and giving, understanding and considerate, and have Her show me the same regard and concern in return. I wanted to introduce my mom to Her - the woman I’d spend the rest of my life with. I wanted to give her the daughter she never had, to love and care for her as if she were of her own blood. I wanted to teach my children all the beauty this world had to offer, to show them all that was possible, and relish in the lives they chose to lead. I couldn't leave yet, and so I prayed to God...please don't let me go yet, not just yet...

And so I returned as the light slowly receded...given another chance to prove the conviction of my soul. I seldom think on it, but tonight is one of those nights - my feelings swell within me, my thoughts struggle to escape me, my sense of direction, of motivation, of purpose is at a fever-pitch as the mood of my soul waxes and wanes, the shape of my life takes form, and a new chapter in my life begins to unfold. fyh

Possibilities

I find it is the simplest of tasks for me to shape my thoughts and feelings into words, to form them into sentences, to assemble them into stories...it is not the How of it that eludes me, but the Why, or rather, my unrelenting and unflappable assumption that no one is capable of understanding my thoughts or feelings - how could they...how could they know when I, every single day of my life, strive to understand it, cope with it, make sense of it and yet cannot fathom the Why?

Why...It taunts and pokes at me, requiring a response I often refuse to give. I find the "courage" to ignore it, to hold it at bay, and yet I am more afraid of it now than I ever was before. Afraid that it will take from me all that I hold dear, and afraid that even if it doesn't, it has compelled me to push away those I had wished to hold close...so that in the end, regardless of the outcome, I have lost what I wished to find, whether of my own accord or otherwise...tears do not begin to do justice to the feelings I harbor because of it.

My mind yearns for the comfort of detachment. It attempts to soothe my heart and soul with the logic of loneliness, not only to spare me, but to spare others as well, and most importantly, to spare Her the trials and tribulations of loving me. Often, it succeeds in it's subconscious endeavor even as my soul cries out with understanding and my heart sheds its tears of comprehension. Alas, my baser instincts and deep-set desire overpower my mind and all its logic! ...but most importantly, my inability to relinquish the power of Hope, my single-minded vision of its strength suffuses me and I just...can't...give...up.

So in my hypocrisy, I wish on the stars, whisper to the night, and pray to the heavens that some magnanimous soul will brave the treacherous and contemptuous waters of my mind. To convince my mind's ferryman the sincerity and truth of its conviction, to find its way to the island I have chosen to reside on, so purposely far away it would seem I desire nothing but solitude, but in actuality...I don't.

I will not...I cannot...For all the world, for all of me, I refuse to believe in the logic that surrounds me. It *is* possible to find Her. It *is* possible for Her to find me. One day it shall come to pass - that there is more to my life than the routine, and no matter the circumstances of my present, or my future for that matter, She will be able to see past it and to me, to find me, on the island I secretly wished was not...I may not fully believe I deserve it, but I will believe in Her should she say I do. fyh