"Getting older's not been on my plans"

  My father hates the doctor. He hates the hospital and all things that he considers to be invasive to his personal self. So, when he believed he had a heart attack, I was scared--shitless. Especially when he decided he needed to go to the emergency room. That was not my father. He is the strong, silent type. You know the man's man; pain is just an expression of hard work and being alive.   But I've been lucky because my family is close. It had always been my mom, dad, my brother and I...always together. Always battling; always conquering anything that came along. So this incident was no different. However, I have learned that even the strong things fall. Sometimes, they fall hard enough never to get up again.   But this isn't about my dad or his heart attack. This is about last moments. The moments we don't realize are the last until they're over.   Thursday, book club day, a last moment. As my dad and mom stayed in the hospital, my brother and I went across the...

  I never wanted to be married. I sorta wanted kids. I never truly planned to spend the rest of my life in Oklahoma. I wanted to be the director of the FBI by the time I was 25. I wanted to travel the world and see things people only dreamed about...now here I am.   A few day ago, I came across an opportunity to travel to Thailand and Cambodia for 2 weeks doing volunteer work with wildlife. Elephants to be exact. I want it. I want it badly. But what does that mean for me now?   Today, my boss asked me if I was a P1 employee or a P2. Having not understood either he explained. P1: someone who is mobile at anytime to follow an opportunity. P2 being the opposite. Immediately, my heart lurched. Obviously, I always wanted to be a P1. I am now a P2. My family is a P1 family. Although I have been here for a long time now, my nomadic heart still longs for the unknown. My newly embraced engagement has me at a P2.   So what am I now? A P2? I just went through my 31st birthda...

  To another day older tomorrow and another after that and so on and so forth... cheers.   

  "In a relationship, what can be more powerful than I choose you?"   Lately, perhaps because I am getting older, or because I am feeling insecure, or because even when I have a ring on my finger I still need reassuring, I have been thinking about me...or more specifically my relationship with white boy. I think sometimes I over think.   I remember a video I watched about the difference between men and women and the way their brain works. In essence, it was a woman can think of 100 things at one time and a man can literally think about nothing. Which fascinated me...literally blank. So, when I tell him I need a drive to think about all aspects of my life he being one of them, he is taken back.   Last night I took a drive. Three hours to the dam and I was not better just more calm. I realized something on that drive. When I drive, I think of nothing. I have the ability to think about so many things at once that nothing has the ability to take hold in my brain. Sav...

  On evenings like these: when the hormones are imbalanced and the mood swings like a pendulum, I am reminded that I am not the sole reason I have a solid relationship. I still find it hard that things can be peachy one moment, and without fair warning not okay the next.   "What's wrong, love?" "I am just feeling blah." I cut the evening short with him; however, it was absolutely nothing he did. It was just necessary. I couldn't sit there and pretend that I was in a good mood to spend time with him. I was irritable and needed to see the road.   So, I took a drive. I do realize that once married I may need a drive but the car will find its way back to his driveway instead of my own. I still may need the drive, and I am okay with that. It's a coping mechanism that helps. The problem is that I feel bad that he is left in the dirt.   "Are you home safely, love?" "Almost." "Oh, okay." Oddly enough, he doesn't feel left in ...

  For as long as I can remember, I used to make up stories in my head. As I got older, most of them revolved around a romance, something I didn't have. I would create detailed stories of romantic trips to far off places; happenstance meetings of a famous musician and how they would fall in love with me; being chosen to be in a Oscar-winning movie and make the main actor fall head over heels. In fact, sometimes, I would imagine how it would be around my friends and family and such. I honestly think I used this crutch to be okay with not dating till I was much older.   When I got into my first relationship, I realized the fantasy relationships stopped. But then I realized they didn't stop they morphed. I could try to defend him and excuse him from the tears and the pain and the hurt heart, but I won't. While in the midst of those things, my mind would build imaginary stories of a perfect relationship with him. Ones in which he spent time with me; ones where he cherished our ...

For some reason, dating my first boyfriend was hard. I was 21; he was 18. We were together for maybe 2 months. I am even reluctant to call him my boyfriend. Classic story of he wanted me; I was bored...voila. And not too long before I broke it off, I found myself in the sacristy talking to my then pastor. I was confused and hurt. I honestly can't even remember why. But he changed me that day.   He told me this: when he was discerning the priesthood two weeks prior to ordination, he struggled. He struggled so much he was beginning to believe his choice of vocation was wrong. His spiritual director at the time told him to pray. He told him to spend one solid week praying as though he was going to leave formation. Leaning all prayer toward that thought. Then, he told him to pray the next solid week as though he was going to stay and become the priest that he believed, at one point, he was supposed to be.   And as he prayed, he struggled. His mind wanted to wander and his desire...