The boys, life, and what's important....

So, the boys are outside tossing around the football - and I'm suddenly inspired by the perfection of this day. The house is a mess, I'm still in sweats and a ponytail, the laundry needs to be done, gotta fix Daryl's bike and clean the patio - but this day is awesome so far. I can't recall a day this good in a while.

It's the simple pleasure of hearing the kids laugh and watching them play. Or having an UN-forced conversation with them. Douglas talking about why he is a better receiver than a QB, or Daryl telling me without hesitation that Douglas has a better arm than he does....it's the nicest, most heartwarming feeling ever. My boys - for all their many, MANY moments of obnoxious, rude behavior - are really good kids at heart. I think all things considered, I did alright with them.

Today Daryl was encouraging my attempts to train and run B2V. He could of easily scoffed at my 12-minute mile time (he can run it in 4:55), but instead he told me, "well that's really good - at least you can run two miles." I was very touched by his positive attitude - and immensly happy that he isn't acting like he hates me anymore (December and January were ROUGH months for us). Now, with him living at his Dads, it seems like when he's here with me - I have my old Daryl back again. The sweet, kind, always willing to laugh and joke around kid - that I love so much. Gosh, he's really terrific. And when he's at his best - it brings Douglas out of his dreary, anti-social, 16-year-old shell. To hear them joke around together and talk trash to each other - might not seem like much, but it's just the best feeling ever.

I snapped a picture of the two of them this morning. Douglas had gotten into Daryl's bed with him, and they were watching TV (The 40 Year Old Virgin - lol) and looking at their yearbook together. At 16 and 13 - the fact that they are still so close and comfortable being near one another - amazes me. Doug was mad I took the pic (of course) - but it's a great reminder of how much they love each other. My boys. They have my whole heart wrapped up inside them - and can bring me to tears with the simplest of gestures.

I'm reading that book - "Tuesdays with Morrie" - and it's a real tearjerker. Very sad, but very profound as well. It's reminded me a lot about what is important in life - and what is not. Having my boys happy, having wonderful friends and family who fill my life with love and laughter, and having a sense of higher purpose - are really the only things in life that give me true satisfaction. Everything else is secondary. Everyone should read that book (and the 5 people you meet in heaven) - and take stock of their lives. Too many times we forget what is important....and life just seems to pass us by without ever leaving much of an impression.

Alright, enough rambling about how perfect this day is....I still have much to do and I have to go and nag Douglas to do his homework before he hooks up his new PS3 (he paid for it himself with money he'd saved over the past 2 years - so I'm very impressed with him meeting his goal!). Daryl has promised to help me "work out" with the weights in the garage, so that will be fun......ahhhhh life....it is only as good as you believe it is. And at this moment, I know that MY life - is pretty darn perfect.

Rainy days.

Rainy days.
Current mood: lonely

The first real rainy day of the season should have started off better. It had all the makings of a perfect morning - no work, no alarm clock ringing, a comfy bed, good company, very very snuggly....but a 7:15 a.m. call from a DA ruined an ideal morning. Questions on a case, emergency victim relocations, gang threats, search warrants - not the way I wanted to start this day. But here I am. Caught in the midst of the life I've created for myself. Too much work, too many people to please, not enough hours in the day. Full time detective, full time college student, part time mom, sometime friend, often times a total stranger to those I love. So many roles to play......when all I want to do is lay in bed staring out the window at the rain.

It's my Dad's birthday today - which doesn't make things any better. I drove right past the cemetary - didn't even stop. It's been years since I went - even though I drive past it pretty often. Hey - at least I wave - and give him the "hang ten" sign (but it's "shaka" now Dad, no one says "hang ten" anymore..:). Leaving flowers at a cemetary seems silly to me. I doubt my Dad would be offended, I don't recall him ever visiting his dad or Daryl there too often either. Cemetary's are for dead people - not the living. What do you say to a headstone in the rain? I miss you? I wish you were here? Did I turn out OK? I wish you could watch the boys play football - or see me graduate next year. Or meet a guy I'm dating, or walk me down the aisle one day. I wish you cared enough to stay healthy - if not for yourself, than for me. I hate that you gave up. Just what exactly do you say to a headstone in the rain? Nothing that you can't say to the air all around you. And that you don't think to yourself - almost all of the time. I'm sure he knows (knew) all those things anyway. It didn't make a difference.

Thirteen years is a long time - but today, it feels like just yesterday. The last conversation, the last time I saw him - it's so vivid. I have pictures of that day - him and Douglas, sitting on my couch.....looking so happy. He had just fixed a broken leg on my table, and taken my trash out for me (Dad's are great). Douglas was only two and a half at the time, but he let him help hold the tools. It was so sweet. A great moment to be frozen in my memory forever. Funny how life changes so quickly. I remember getting the phone call from his friends at the hospital a few days later. They were playing basketball after work and my dad collapsed.....and then I knew. I was at work at the time - and I just knew. The doctor wouldn't tell me over the phone, told me to get there as soon as possible - but I knew it was too late. You can tell these things - and I wasn't even a cop back then. Some sick feeling in the pit of your stomach tells you, "things are not going to be okay this time."

Funny, I never turn my phone off now - waiting for the next call like that. Will it be my kids, my Mom, my Nana, my brother, one of my friends? It's only a matter of time before it comes. I turned my phone on vibrate the night Jen was in her accident - and had she been killed I would have never forgiven myself for missing the call. Bad news travels fastest via cell phones. I keep it on now, no matter what. Rarely does a call go unanswered on my phone....I'm usually dreading the worst. My Dad was the one that called me and told me about my cousin Daryl's car accident. Over the phone. I was only 19 years old at the time....not ready for something like that, and certainly not ready to hear it that way. How do you tell someone over the phone that someone they love is dead? It's not right. I think I told my Nana about my Dad over the phone too - how horrible. I should apologize for that - 13 years later. But I was in total shock - still at the hospital and 8 months pregnant with my Daryl. Dealing with his horrid ex-girlfriend who wanted his wallet and money asap., with the notifications, all the while avoiding his body because I couldn't bear to see my Dad all blue and intubated. I'd rather remember him the way I last saw him....at the house, with Douglas...fixing my table and hanging out. Yes, death brings out the worst in people. Always. I've had to make death notifications at work a few times. It's heartbreaking. It leaves you so empty, and so void of anything at all to say that might comfort someone. Wait, wait, I'm digressing.....

I don't even want to go to work - don't want to write these papers for school - or start on the search warrants I need to write. It's never enough - there's always more to do....I just want to sit on the couch and watch a movie with my boys - or hear them laughing - or see them smile. I gotta get outta this mood - being alone in the rain is a recipe for disaster. Especially on this day. The boys aren't home till Friday - at which time I will forego any stupid arguments with them, and just tell them how much I love them. Life is too short for stupid fights over stupid things.....what difference does it make if their room is a mess, or they don't brush their teeth enough? Or if they get C's instead of A's and B's.....in the end, it just doesn't matter.

Maybe I'll go for a run in the rain....there's got to be a positive side to it. Hey, at least no one will notice that I'm crying.....:)

Independent..circa 2004

As I read my book tonight (Black House) - my mind kept drifting out of focus. I kept rethinking the events of the day, and eventually got to a point where I had stopped reading all together and was just staring at my book, thinking; I am totally independent. It kept echoing over and over in my head, like some horrible tic I couldn't get rid of. Most people would think independence is an asset, but not me. Not this much independence. And the more I thought of it, the more this sinking feeling crept into my head, this realization that my life, which seems functional and mechanically routine, is actually one big lonely blur, filled with task after task, all of which I can do all by myself - without anyone. This modern day feministic culture that has produced me and all the women like me, is a joke - a cruel anomaly of life. It doesn't take one person to make a child, or build a home, or sustain a family - it takes two. Or maybe three or four... but life is certainly not supposed to be undertaken alone. And that is precisely what I've done. My pride has made other people unnecessary to my livelihood, to my daily sustenance, so this solitary life I'm living is completely of my own doing. And I suddenly realized how much I hate being independent, and how that one factor has probably ensured my singleness up to this point, and undoubtedly will, throughout my future.

Today and yesterday I've been sick with strep throat - feeling truly horrible with body aches, a fever of 101.3 and a throat so swollen I could barely swallow yesterday. It was so bad in fact, that a few times I was on the verge of tears just because I felt so crummy. And still, in my sickness and general downtrodden state, I managed to go grocery shopping (twice), shuttle Daryl to his basketball practices, take him to get his hair cut, clean my house, do four loads of laundry, patch a whole in my drywall (courtesy of the kids while I was out of town), re-organize my tool shelves in the garage, deal with having my puppy Peanut carted off by Animal Control (he bit someone, so it's curtains for him), cook several chicken dishes (lunch for work this weekend), and have another nasty telephone fight with the kids Dad. Imagine what I could of done if I wasn't sick. The problem is, I have gotten so used to doing everything by myself, that I have practically made having a man around obsolete. I need them only for sex and emotional support, but even then - I haven't gotten much of that from Adam. He seems wholly uninterested when I ramble on about my problems, or what I'm dealing with at home. Makes me feel like we are only together for the occasional companion - when neither of us is too busy with our real lives, and we have some spare time for one another.

I hate being a single parent. I hate having to do everything myself. I hate taking out the garbage, and not having someone to help me wash the dogs and do the laundry. But most of all, I hate that I don't think I will ever have that - because it's so out of the ordinary from what I'm used to, that I have no idea how to incorporate that in my life. With Adam, I whine about what I want - and it only drives him further away. Even I hate to hear myself complain - I sound like a huge pain in the ass. And I swore I would never be that way. But he is so un-emotional, and so distant. So many times I feel like he is indifferent to our relationship - like if we broke up he wouldn't even give it a second thought. I hate that too. Feeling like you are dispensable and easily replaced. I just want to feel loved and cherished, and valued. When someone loves you, really loves you, don't they want to help you with the yucky stuff? Don't they want to make your life easier and make you feel appreciated? I always thought so. I always want to help people that way - but then, it's always been so easy for me to love and be in love. It's comes so naturally for me. What a cruel bit of irony that no one else seems to feel that way....

Wounded

This wounded soul
- has seen too much
It is broken and bruised
- it is cold to the touch

This empty shell
- is home to despair
Where once there was meaning
- it now just lies bare

How many times can I lose myself?
- before all hope is gone?
How many times can I fail myself
- just to sing this tragic song

This life - it's a circus
- a game, I can't win
I'm lost
and alone
I'm dead from within

This heart that's so battered
- this soul that's so torn
I'm broken and beaten
- yet still, I go on.

Who I am....

Poetry anyone?

Who I am...

The Laughing Girl
who finds humor in every situation
The Crying Woman
who has known too much pain
The Skeptic
who sees suspicion on everyone's faces
and The Cynic
who beleives there's nothing to be gained.

I am The Hopeful
who wants something to hold on to
I am the Faithful
who wants something to believe
I am the Lost Child
who wanders through the darkness,
stumbling through her lifetime,
blindly wishing she could see.
I am The Mother
whose love is unconditional
I am The Father
who wishes I didn't have to be...
I am The Officer
whose intentions are full of honor
who'd give her life,
so selflessly.

I am so much,
so many things
so many sides that you can't see
though you would judge me quickly
and cast your vote
on who I am
on what you see....

Who I Am
is a work in progress
a fragile flower - not yet bloomed,
a delicate spirit
in a soldiers armor
a star filled night
under a luminous moon.

c. February 2002