heart day
6 years ago
Friday, September 25, 2009
Red Rock Cherry
I'm going back to the desert tomorrow. Back to my Zion. I love my Zion more than I love any other place ever. Period. Nothing will top the feeling I get of seeing those awesome red rock cliffs and getting sweaty as I climb up Angel's Landing's steep stairs carved into the rock or summitting the East Rim at the top of Observation Point and walking into a forest, A FOREST at the top of the desert! Seriously, how fucking cool is that? I've done this more times than I can count, and I still get excited. But this time I get to take the NY'er. He's never been. I LOVE taking people that have never been. I'm gonna pop his Zion's cherry, and he's going to like it. :)
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
I think I'm turning into a redneck.
I bought a bow this weekend. The kind you shoot arrows with, not the kind you wear in your hair. I remember shooting a bow and arrow at girls camp when I was 13 and thinking it was cool, and also thinking I was good at it. I also remember thinking that the chick who taught us to shoot them wore too much camo for one person, especially a woman person.
My NY'er is to blame. He shoots arrows, and he makes it look sexy (of course I think anything he does is sexy). He shoots arrows, shoots guns and has all these accessories for that kind of stuff. He also wears camo, but he's a boy, and he doesn't over d0 it.
In the last 3 months I have become the proud owner of my very own sexy hand gun and cool bow with a big black case with deer on it and lots of arrows (which are camo printed). I can't speak the lingo, I call the ends the pointy things and the other ends the clippy things, and I can't speak gun speak yet. But I have to admit that I like this stuff.
Sunday the NY'er and I went to the mountains in his green jeep with 2 guns, 2 bows, and 1 slingshoot and 3 cases of Wal Mart soda to shoot stuff at. I had a blast, and was so excited when I could finally pull the stringy thing back on the bow and actually shoot the arrow. (it's way harder than it looks ladies) I was also totally excited when I put 7 of 8 shots from my gun in the paper plate I was aiming at. That's some good shootin.
I doubt you'll see me sporting any camo pants any time soon, but I do admit that I enjoy these things. I have no desire to kill anything other than Wal Mart soda cans or paper plates, and I believe it will stay this way. But hell, yee haw and howdy ho, I'm having a good time.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Why?
Why is it that when I'm PMS'ing all I want to do is eat sugar and pick fights with my boyfriend? Why do I assume that he wants to be with every other woman in the world but me? Why do I want to fill my bathtub full of sugar and brownies and whip cream from the can and literally binge my way out of it?
Can't I just take my uterus out until I'm ready to use it?
Can't I just take my uterus out until I'm ready to use it?
Dad
Why does that happen? What is the trigger? I’m out for a nice evening walk with my dog, happily thinking about how things have been so calm and wonderful and peaceful lately and BAM! I see a man shooting hoops in his driveway and 5 minutes later I’m crying.
The man shooting hoops in his driveway was totally the trigger. Why? He looked just like my Dad, a younger, healthier version, but it was him. The Dad I remember when I was about 11 years old. The one that would chase me around the front yard while I was laughing, thinking that the sight of my Dad just running alone was hilarious. I started missing him. After almost 10 years of him being gone, you still miss them, but you learn to live with it. You never get over it, but you learn to not think about it every single day anymore, you learn to remember him without feeling so sad, but you can remember him with a fondness and a warm wonderful feeling or sweet memories. Every once in a while though, you let the pain back in and you just miss them.
Last night as I walked and thought about him, I found myself wishing so much that I could just sit down and talk to him again. I would ask him what were his greatest moments in his life? What were his regrets? What brought him the most joy? What advice he’d offer me now, knowing what he knows about it all.
Since leaving the church 8 years ago, it leaves me to formulate my own opinions about what happens to us when we leave this world. It used to be so easy, it was all mapped out for me, 3 degrees of glory and all. Now, a lot of that has all fallen apart, and I have been asked by some family members what I believe now, and the answer is probably what a lot of people think, “I don’t know”. I just don’t, but I hate the thought like I've heard in some Mormon doctorine that they are too busy doing the work, and they are needed somewhere else, or happier somewhere else (words of "encouragement" like that just proved to completely piss me off at the time it happened)... I like to think of them still here. I like to think of my Dad occasionally with me, when I find myself in those moments when life forces me to my knees, pleading for help, or driving home with tears streaming down my face and me simply asking “why?”. I like to think of him there, just with his arms wrapped around me, not saying anything grand, but just loving me. Sometimes, most times, that’s all we need is just to know that there is love there.
Dad and I had a different relationship than the rest of my siblings. We just got each other. He was always at odds with my brother as he woke him up early on Saturday’s to mow the lawn, because that’s what men did. He was always very protective of my 2 other sisters, babying them and standing up for them. But with me, he just sort of let me free knowing that I would be okay. It was like an unspoken trust and appreciation. He also just let me know in his way that he was excited to see what I’d come up with, all on my own. I like to think he’s watching now, it breaks my heart that he won't be there to see me have children, raise a family. It's a heart ache I will always have, but again, I've learned to live with.
The man shooting hoops in his driveway was totally the trigger. Why? He looked just like my Dad, a younger, healthier version, but it was him. The Dad I remember when I was about 11 years old. The one that would chase me around the front yard while I was laughing, thinking that the sight of my Dad just running alone was hilarious. I started missing him. After almost 10 years of him being gone, you still miss them, but you learn to live with it. You never get over it, but you learn to not think about it every single day anymore, you learn to remember him without feeling so sad, but you can remember him with a fondness and a warm wonderful feeling or sweet memories. Every once in a while though, you let the pain back in and you just miss them.
Last night as I walked and thought about him, I found myself wishing so much that I could just sit down and talk to him again. I would ask him what were his greatest moments in his life? What were his regrets? What brought him the most joy? What advice he’d offer me now, knowing what he knows about it all.
Since leaving the church 8 years ago, it leaves me to formulate my own opinions about what happens to us when we leave this world. It used to be so easy, it was all mapped out for me, 3 degrees of glory and all. Now, a lot of that has all fallen apart, and I have been asked by some family members what I believe now, and the answer is probably what a lot of people think, “I don’t know”. I just don’t, but I hate the thought like I've heard in some Mormon doctorine that they are too busy doing the work, and they are needed somewhere else, or happier somewhere else (words of "encouragement" like that just proved to completely piss me off at the time it happened)... I like to think of them still here. I like to think of my Dad occasionally with me, when I find myself in those moments when life forces me to my knees, pleading for help, or driving home with tears streaming down my face and me simply asking “why?”. I like to think of him there, just with his arms wrapped around me, not saying anything grand, but just loving me. Sometimes, most times, that’s all we need is just to know that there is love there.
Dad and I had a different relationship than the rest of my siblings. We just got each other. He was always at odds with my brother as he woke him up early on Saturday’s to mow the lawn, because that’s what men did. He was always very protective of my 2 other sisters, babying them and standing up for them. But with me, he just sort of let me free knowing that I would be okay. It was like an unspoken trust and appreciation. He also just let me know in his way that he was excited to see what I’d come up with, all on my own. I like to think he’s watching now, it breaks my heart that he won't be there to see me have children, raise a family. It's a heart ache I will always have, but again, I've learned to live with.
Last Sunday my sister and I were at my Mom's house and we got talking about him. My sweet niece Annie who is almost 4, started asking questions about "our Dad that died". She was so sweet, and at one point just turned to me and said in her sweet 4 year old way, "I'm really sorry that your Dad died Jen." I think that was the best condolance anyone has ever given me about the situation, and it happened almost 10 years later. It was just so sweet and so sincere. I'm sorry too Annie.
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