So, this old friend of mine calls me 'granola girl'. I'm not even sure how he knew that I love granola. I was a bit embarrassed because the conotation (big word...) was that somehow I was some tree hugging hippie chick. And I have hugged a tree. Even publically. But really, I am currently embracing the granola title. The sweetest thing is that this friend went into a McDonalds (I didn't want to go in) but he brought me out this new thing they have which is granola and yogurt. That made my day.
The blog thing is kind of odd. I have a friend who writes the most hilarious blogs. They are kind of stream of consciousness. (means the ideas kind of flow randomly.) Isn't that the idea of a blog? It's like a public journal. So, here goes:
Dear Diary,
Today I went to the music studio for the first time in over one week. Normally I go there at least once a day because I'm a self employed guitar and voice teacher. (and I sometimes paint in my 'free' time.) I lugged all my equipment back in. My amp, my guitars, my ukelele, my mp3 recorder...my laptop. You get the picture. The sun was shining and my first student wasn't due to arrive for a half hour so I drove over to the store and bought some potting soil. I drove back and dumped the soil along the side of the studio and planted sunflower seeds and african daisies.
I wish I could write about what is going on deeper in my heart. When I was fourteen I had a little lock and key to my diary. I would write about how I loved this boy. He was my first love. My true love really. We were great friends and very new lovers. We would zip our coats together and snuggle on the cold, windy beach. We swam together in the ocean and we kissed for hours on the couch listening to music. We drank sparkling cider on New Year's Eve in 1980 while riding around on the city bus. This young man would sneak into my house at night and we would practice loving each other. It was lovely really. I have carried him around in my heart for years.
I made the dire mistake of hurting him really badly. My family moved to Alaska and I had to leave my true love. But that is not what hurt him the most. I got caught up in Anchorage. I didn't anticipate that we would ever return to that old home town and I lost hope. I lost contact and then when the miracle happened I didn't really see it as a miracle. I was stressed to have to return as a teenager with a single mom living in pure poverty. I was embarrassed to be so poor when I really wanted to fit in and be accepted. So, when we got back to town I didn't have it in me to re-kindle love with my first, my one and my only.
Well, from then on he hardly gave me the time of day. I slowly became a part of his life but only on the outside of his heart. I know years have gone by dear diary but I still feel so sorry to have hurt him. Because he could never love me again after that. No one knew how I could reach him. People knew that I loved him but he would not have any of it. So, I also let go. I moved on. Life goes on. I fell in love a number of times between then and 1993 when I saw my true love again. But I was involved with another young man and even though I'd driven across icy roads in the dark to see my true love, when I saw that he had already started having children and was drinking a twelve pack and single I played him a song on the guitar and went back out into that good night. I was afraid. I didn't take the time to find our love again. I wasn't sure if he was capable of seeing me for who I was or if I could find the strength to see him for who he was. I am only now beginning to regret that icy cold night.
Heaven for my true love
When I die and go to heaven I will fall down on my knees. The pearly gates before me, I will ask god please forgive me. And when I'm lying on my deathbed and my son stands next to me, he will know how much I love him when he sets me free. It's okay now mama you can go.
When my true friends stand before me, oh how grateful I will be because all they ever really asked of me was only to be me. And when my true love holds me closely, feels like all I've ever known, every word I've ever written was meant for him alone.
And when I'm looking into his eyes in the moment we make love, enfolded safely in his arms like heaven up above. When I die and go to heaven it is there that we will meet and then our love will last forever when this life becomes complete.
So, dear diary, you see life keeps going on. Really there are points of no return. We must give thanks and cultivate our present commitments. All along we are taught to believe in true love. And all along we see love here and there. But, stamina is not everything. And when you let go of love it slips away. Love is precious so if you have love with someone be in those moments fully. Because they will slip away. Like so much sand on the beach.
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