busy making other plans

tonight was a house-keeping night. one dirty little mess led to another dirty little mess, which led to some dusting, but then some sorting through junk, finding a few memorable items, which led to walks down memory lane, which led to thoughts and smiles, but no tears tonight. i found some notes that i have kept for years. one was one of those little cards that come with flowers, from my mother saying, Dear Suzanne, Be strong. Love will find you. Love, Mom. she sent that bouquet to me when i had just ended a very important relationship in my life. i didn't think her words would ever be true, but i kept them, holding on to that hope. i kept it like one keeps a nice fortune cookie sentiment. i keep that little card with my most important documents (my survival kit?) -- my birth certificate, my social security card, my passport, and my immunization records (am i anal & hopeless, or what?).i also found some yellowing newspaper clippings -- the first and only time i have been I Spy-ed. i remember getting the call while i was in costco of all places. it was my roommate telling me i'd been spied! i prepped myself for it, but felt the same disappointment i felt when the only dozen red roses that i got on my 21st birthday were from my mother. jess' I Spy to me said this: i spy one naked-elevator ridin', mary katherine gallagher impersonatin', stair slip-slidin', retronome booty shakin', injury laughin', "bad bad man" defeatin', mama to 3-legged ella. i wish now that i could have appreciated how much i was loved, rather than being disappointed that it wasn't the man of my dreams who had finally spied me, galloping along on his trusty horse. luckily i still have it. it will most likely remain with my passport, unless i actually do follow through on that plan years ago to laminate and magnetize it, preparing it for its rightful place on my fridge.

i remember writing a letter to my mother when i was my loneliest and most depressed, and needing to give her (and more likely, me) some hope that things were going to be ok. i told her i was happy -- that i loved life so much. in the least, perhaps my hope was that maybe when that letter finally reached her, that would be true. that was an extreme pivotal moment for me. a moment one never forgets. do i thrive on this intensity?

but life is not just about those moments that are caught on film or paper. life is not a dream or a fantasy. life is not represented by a picture. only glimpses of a life can be captured. the whole can never be revealed.

and yet, i still wait for perfection.