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That’s right, I saw my breasts in the window walking into Bennigans last night.
Ok, ok, you picky little writers, let me correct that, my breasts weren’t in the window itself but the reflection of me was and whoa, those puppies were kind of hanging if you know what I mean.
Doing this kind of swaying thing, back and forth, side to side, not up and down with a cute little bounce.
Bounce good, pendulous baaad….
Looks like I got a trip to the lingerie department.
My Grandma was a lusty, vivacious, woman.
I will never forget her advice on sex; I believe I even remember it word for word.
“A man thinks he knows how to have sex; he doesn’t, you got to teach ‘em how. If you don’t work up the nerve, then you’re a fool.”
Grandma was right. I listened to her and it worked for me…very nicely.
Peer pressure, it just doesn’t stop does it?
I went to a women’s meeting last night and the pressure to fit in, to agree with my peers, to behave in a certain manner, to think in a certain manner, was intense.
Parts of the meeting almost felt like how I would imagine a political meeting would go behind closed doors where the public wouldn’t see how the candidates wheel and deal.
Don’t get me wrong; mostly I enjoy the fellowship of the women. I just don’t enjoy the subtle undertone of “agree with me, conform, or be talked about behind your back” kind of thing.
Yet, the reason I’m wanted, the reason I’m invited is because of who I am in the first place. Interesting, isn’t it?
But do you know what is terrific about this? I’m 53 years old and I don’t care one whit about fitting in, conforming to anyone else’s standards but my own.
Yeah Me!
Sometimes words truly are inadequate for how I feel. The grief, rage, sorrow, I go through on a daily basis over my sister’s death goes on and on and on...
It has paralyzed me, constricted me, simply strangled me; into a mode of behavior that has left every person I love in tears. These feelings have paralyzed me, it seems like I didn't care, not care at all, that I’m hurting each and every one who loves me.
Why were they crying? Because I’m was telling them the truth, I want to die, I wish I had died, I wish it had been me who had died.
Then on the other hand it had freed me, opened me up, those feelings that I kept tightly controlled have been let out to vent on everyone around me. I tell myself that I’m just telling the truth and if the truth hurts, tough.
That’s rage and grief, I know that, but it didn’t stop me from being a complete jerk to the people I love.
I do love them, really I do, and with love, passion and prayer I’ve watched over my family and friends all these years.
I’ve been brought to tears over the sheer beauty of my children. I’m not talking about physical beauty, I’m talking about the light inside them that shines so bright that at that moment in time, I know God in a most personal, intimate way. Only God can create a light like that.
Big Guy? Oh sweet Jesus, what can I say? Big Guy is my one and only, the man who is truly my man. Big Guy has taken the most of my rage, grief and still has loved me, cared for me, and forgiven me daily for my words that were meant to wound and hurt those around me.
My friends? I did just about everything I could do to alienate them, get them away from me. I wanted no sunshine in my life; I had no feeling left to care what was happening in their lives.
I wanted everyone to hurt as much as I was hurting, God forgive me, and I used verbal skills I didn’t even know I had, to succeed.
Now, what is one thing I’ve learned that has shocked me? I thought I was the one watching over family and friends with love, passion and prayer. But as a mother and wife and friend to all these people who I love, these beautiful people have been watching over me the same way!
Knock me over with a feather.
Love, passion and prayer, these people, all these years, have looked after me the same way I’ve looked after them.
Knock me over with a feather again, please.
