Growing up in South Florida I

At night, the water in my parents’ pool would create the most beautiful, soothing reflections up on the white beams of their screened porch. I loved looking at the underwater lights, listening to the soft hum of the a/c unit on the side of the house, wrapped in the comforting mugginess of a South Florida evening.

On Sundays, we would get together at my parents’ house and have a late lunch around their kitchen table, overlooking that sparkling blue pool and the lake behind it. There would always be a Mamma Duck and her kiddies gliding over the water. It was a big lake, although man-made, and off to the left there was a fountain that was always on, and at night it would be illuminated with soft lights. We would sit, eat roasted chicken and rice, talk, and joke around all afternoon. My family had a great sense of humor. It was a lot of fun.

My sister and I still talked. We all had the same lifestyle. I saw my parents every day. My husband and I still had the same goals, and every intention of growing old together.

I have been consciously trying to get away from my tendency to live in the past, and realize that things change, and embrace these changes. But it’s so easy to long for a time when things were different.

Dusty blogspace

My friend 33351 commented today that I have not posted in my blog recently.

He is correct.

My mind has been inundated with so many thoughts lately, that it is really hard to organize them in my head, let alone verbalize them (er, or write them down) in a way that is coherent and intelligible.

The mid-life crisis is coming to a head. When you hit rock bottom, all you have left to do is 1. kill yourself or 2. go up. I’m too chicken-shit to kill myself. Plus I think my son’s father would be mad at me….

However I am beginning to understand what people say when they refuse to just “settle”. What a concept.