Daddys lessons

Growing up every Saturday afternoon I knew I could find my father in his bedroom playing records on an old record player. As I got a little older he advanced to big speakers attached to whatever the newest computer model he could afford to have. The one constant however was the music.

The man taught me the love of sound.

The feel of the bass coming through the floorboard and pounding a distinct rythm into my soul.

The sound of the harmonies had an absolute calming effect on whatever stresses my childhood overthinking had caused over the last seven days.

He would pull out a chess set sometimes for us to spar without words. Shifting little wooden pieces around the board attempting to out -think each other.

I’ve managed to fall in love with music just the way he does. Every sort of music has heart and soul, even if its not my taste.

I envy those that can close their eyes and play their feelings on an instrument. I dawdled and gave feeble attempts but was never able to truly make magic happen. Not even the type of magic originally spun by someone else.

I’ve come to accept my place in the musical world is simply through someone else’s imagination.

Instead I dedicate every emotion I feel, and every Saturday afternoon, to loud speakers attached to a music playing device like my daddy taught me.

Pick wisely

Staying alive while facing mental health battles seems to be a minute by minute choice. It’s the conversations that no one wants to have, but are more important than anything else you talked about today. There hasn’t been one moment in my last twenty years that I wasnt intimately aware of mental health. Between dealing with ever cycling emotions of puberty in my own body, and watching some of the others around me face battle deep inside.

Within that same timing I had my world flipped upside down because someone close to me lost the battle.

Talk to you lived ones. Listen when they chose to talk. You may be the only one they turn to.

That makes it all that much more important to chose the people you surround yourself with.

Make sure they are healthy for you, in the good times and the bad.

The magic word

Learning the healthy normal in my relationship is going to be the new challenge in my life. We have forgotten how to function as a couple with all this running around parenting and working.

Recently he has had to switch a different shift that works him an opposite shift as mine. As much as space is something that our relationship thrives from, this may be a little too much space.

So I am looking around at different things that can help us re-center our focus. While I am mainly focused on getting us fun positive time together as a couple, I also would love to strengthen our communication.

   Yup, I said it.

That magic “C” word that always gets thrown around in a relationship. Everyone can stand to do a little work in that department,  at any point of the relationship. However when we are as strained as we are, I think that it is important.

Check back soon to see if I can get him on board as well. 🙂

 

My serenity

I have been being called out to the water for a few months now but the weather keeps getting in my way along with busy schedules of course. The other day I finally found the cutest beach to go to and I have to admit I felt a sense of being home. How can someone who has never lived on the water feel so completely at home when near it? Still havent gotten out onto a boat yet, and I may have to admit that I wont be able to this year.

But the serenity I found while staring out at its vastness is unmatched. The way my heart calmed to listen to the beat of the surf lapping on the sand.

Watching my middle sons excitement as he learned to battle against the waves made my heart swell. He feels it too. That calling. That need to be there. My oldest fights and complains about the sand, the youngest is scared to get too far in since she doesnt like water in her face.

To find something to tame the one wild child tho makes it even better. Id go back with him right now if I wasnt chained to this work chair by the shackles of being an adult.