me

my mom

Posted on November 21, 2016 by robynbird

Today is the fifth anniversary of the day Mommie died. I’ve been thinking of her so much lately. I miss her in ways that sneak up on me and hit me upside the head like a baseball bat. I’m momentarily stunned and then I feel sad. Or I laugh uncontrollably. Or I get a warm fuzzy feeling. Or I get so angry I grunt and stamp my foot. I firmly believe that all daughters feel these things about their mothers.

I’ve written about my mom before, But I’m not going to talk about our unpacked baggage, or our love of robin birds, or the gift of silly memories. I’m just going to share my mom.

I love this photo!
This is my mom when she was sassy AF. I think she’s so beautiful. This photo was taken in the mid 1960’s. I think my mom stopped being sassy when her mother died. She looks different in any photo taken after 1969, like something’s just a bit off…or something. Now, this is just my theory…but I do know that death of her mother changed her greatly.

This was taken at our house on Barton Street in Arlington. I suspect my dad took it. It was before I was living in that house, but I don’t know how long after they were married this was taken. Some time in 1970.
I think she’s beautiful in this photo too, but she looks different.

This photo was taken in April of 1971. The month before I was born. I think she looks tired. But I’ve been that far along in a pregnancy twice in my life and I remember feeling tired.
I’m so glad that the middle part went away for a long time…does it really look good on anyone?

So, my parents were pretty freaking strange. And quite possibly they shouldn’t have been allowed to bring me home from the hospital. I’m the weird little alien looking baby. My mother is holding me inside my father’s boot (he was a motorcycle cop) as he takes the photograph.
Obviously, I wasn’t a very cute baby…though in my defense, I’m kind of crammed into a big leather boot. That makes for some uncomfortable faces. Summertime 1971.

I went through years and years of photographs trying to find some of me with my mom. There are tons of photos of me with my dad (before he left) and even more of me with Grandaddy. But few with my mom. She was always behind the camera.
Being behind the lens is something that must run in our blood. I’m a photographer. Thing 2 is a photographer. Thing 1 is kind of a photographer too. Luckily, there are other people with cameras who’ve taken photos of me with my girls, even though I’m almost always behind the lens of my camera.

This is Grandaddy and Mommie and me. I’m not sure why Mommie and I are dressed up and Grandaddy is wearing a sweatshirt. Maybe we girls were going somewhere just the two of us? I don’t know.
I was probably in sixth grade so that would make it 1982…maybe?
(note my awful middle part)

I did find this one of us working a WETA telethon. (taken before we were actually on the air) I had this mad skill of sticking out my tongue just as the shutter clicked. And our hair is really terrible. This was the next year or so. My mom hated my long hair and cut it all off one afternoon under the guise of giving me a “trim”. Circa 1983?

This one was taken in November of 2000 by Thing 1. We went to see “Grandmommy” for Thanksgiving. This photo was taken sixteen years ago this same month. I love this photo because we look happy to be together. I recently removed it from the album and put it in a frame.
Positive reinforcement of love.

Five years ago this day, my mother’s life ended. She died the Monday before Thanksgiving. The girls and I drove down to see her body (before it was cremated) on Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving.
The little bit of my mother’s ashes that belong to me are in a tiny enamel heart shaped container.

Sometimes I take it out of the blue velvet box and hold it in my hand. Sometimes I hold that heart to my own heart and imagine that we can feel each other’s love.

A small stuffed robin bird sits atop the blue velvet box. The blue velvet is on a small cedar box filled with memories. The small cedar box is on my bookshelf below my collection of journals. This is the side of the shelves that face my work tables and comfy reading chair. So I can see it whenever I want.

In some ways, five years is the blink of an eye. In others, it’s a long, dark eternity.
I’ll always have a complicated relationship with my mother. It wasn’t sorted before she died, but that’s because of who she was. And I guess that’s OK too.
I know she loved me. I know I loved her.

Categories: loss, love, me | Tags: emotional baggage, grief, happy, joy and sadness, loss, love, mothers and daughters, peace, sadness | 4 Comments

poof I had an epiphany

Posted on November 20, 2016 by robynbird

I had an epiphany as I journaled one night last week. (perhaps it’s been a couple weeks now)
I journaled in response to a suggestion that I’m taken for granted by some of the people in my life.

I questioned if I could love others without sacrificing myself. I questioned why I can’t seem to say no. I questioned why I feel compelled to always do what’s expected of me, even if it’s unrealistic.
I mused that it comes from being a little girl and feeling like I had to work hard to be loved. That if I was a “good girl” and did what I was “supposed” to do, then I was loved. If I wasn’t good or didn’t do what was expected of me, love was withheld from me.
And *poof* the epiphany occurred.

I over-function to be loved.

I’m a chronic over-functioner.

Will Meek PhD describes over-functioners in this way:

Over-functioners (OFs) are usually seen as people who “have it together”, are detail oriented, organized, and reliable, and are typically viewed as being reliable workers, partners, and parents.

Classic characteristics of over-functioning include being overly focused on another person’s problems or life situation. Offering frequent advice or help to the other person. Feeling anger when help is not “appreciated” or the under-functioner (UF) doesn’t change. And frequently feeling overwhelmed, stressed, and neglecting self-care. Over-functioning can be seen as a type of “enabling”, even though the intent is the opposite.

That explains how I get myself into these situations where I’m taking care of everyone else and not myself. How I’ll make sure everyone’s everything is done, or their needs are met before I even begin to consider my own. And most of the time, I’m too worn out to consider my own needs, therefore I neglect them.
Turns out the only good thing about getting sick with the brain edema is that I was forced to consider my own needs first. But since I’ve been “well enough” I’m going back into my old patterns. And especially while Thing 2 was here.

Becoming aware of why I over-function is HUGE! If I know why I do it, perhaps I’ll be able to stop doing it. Ah, but then guilt and fear show up and panic me. If I don’t do (whatever) for (whomever) I’m not a good (whatever). And that means I’m not going to be loved.

Does that seem odd to you?
Will my doing (whatever) for the people in my life make them love me more than if I don’t do it?
Logic would suggest the answer is no.
But every fiber of my being is screaming yes!

This is something I will work hard to understand and change.
It’ll be better for me, and for the people in my life.

I must learn to say no in a kind and respectful way.
I must learn to understand that love isn’t based on what I do for others.
I must learn that it’s perfectly acceptable to put myself first.

I’m not loved because I do what’s expected of me.
I’m not loved because I’m a “good girl”.
I am loved because I am me.
Just me.
Just being me is enough to be loved.
I must never forget that.

Categories: me | Tags: emotional baggage, emotional health, epiphany, journaling, love, mental health, over-functioner, over-functioning, self awareness | 4 Comments

it’s time to create new traditions

Posted on November 19, 2016 by robynbird

If you’ve followed my blog for any length of time, you know I don’t like Thanksgiving.
I’m not really going to get into the whys and wherefores of why Thanksgiving and I don’t quite fit. Just know this, I love the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and that’s about it.

As you may recall, my dear friend and mentor lost her beloved in the spring. Thanksgiving is the first holiday she will face without him. Now, you need to understand she can do it. She can do Thanksgiving alone. She can do anything, and she will do it with a grace that I can only dream of achieving. But she shouldn’t have to.
Her son, daughter-in-law, and grandson are celebrating Thanksgiving with other family. I couldn’t bear the thought of her facing this first holiday alone, so I had an uncomfortable conversation with YBW and came to the conclusion that I would go to her for Thanksgiving. We’ve planned a very Charleston Thanksgiving and I’m actually rather excited about it.
I’ll even get to see my Charleston family while I’m there!

I know it’s hurtful to YBW. I think he takes it personally. I don’t know that I can really do anything about that, but I assured him that it’s not personal. I’ve been close with Jessica for twenty years. Even though she is no real kin of mine, she is my family.

YBW took his mother to the grocery store last week and when they talked Thanksgiving plans, she said to him that she couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t want to be with my family for Thanksgiving.
I’m ashamed to admit I responded like this, but I looked at him and I said, “Because it’s not my family.”
I didn’t mean it the way it may have seemed, only I kind of did mean it too. I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to say, but it was sort of how I felt.

Consider this: I am an orphan who is never around her own children. The only thing I have of my family of origin and the family I created is traditions. But they get lost because one girl isn’t an entire family.
I love the people in his family. And for the most part, they seem to love me. But they’re not terribly adept at seeing past the end of their noses.
I don’t understand why it’s so difficult to grasp the concept of friends as family, especially when I have no family of my own.
I suspect it’s because none of them have ever been in my shoes. They’ve got one living parent, they’re with their children regularly.
My family is my friends. My friends have always been my family, but now that I really have no family of my own, my friends are even more so my family.
That’s just how I am. I know that’s a different concept for YBW’s family.

A few days later, I was alone in the car and had a thought.
It’s not that they’re not my family. It’s that those are not my traditions.
My God, that was the most freeing thought I’d had in ages! And it finally began to make sense to me! And if I could express myself in a way that he could understand, it just might create a truly positive shift in our life.

I came back to YBW and said that what I said surely felt hurtful, and for that I was truly sorry. I didn’t intend hurt him. I told him that I’d been thinking about it and shared what I thought about family and traditions. His family has traditions they’ve been sharing for nearly fifty years. And while they’re extremely important to them, they’re not as important to me.

I told him that it was time for us to create new traditions.
He agreed. He asked good questions. We talked about traditions briefly.
But then nothing more was said about it…

Now is not the time. I’m leaving Tuesday afternoon for Charleston. He’ll be here getting ready to host his family.
When I get home, I’ll be ready to start getting the house ready for Christmas. Perhaps that will be a new way of creating new traditions…with the exception of the “big” tree that goes in the front room. He won’t want to do that without the boys and that makes sense to me. That tree will wait until they come back from their mother’s. But I’m not waiting to make with the Christmas merry. I’ll start the moment I get back into town.

If only there was some way to move straight from Halloween to Christmas and blow right past this obligatory giving of thanks…it just fits me ill.

It’s not that I’m not thankful. It’s that I’m thankful every day.
I’m thankful for the traditions I was given as a child and the ones I created as an adult.
I’m thankful that I have a strong bond with my friends as family people.
I’m thankful I am able to be with someone I love so dearly when she’d otherwise be alone.
I’m thankful that I am strong and have great love in me.
I’m thankful that I am loved greatly.

Categories: love, me | Tags: celebration, family, family traditions, friends as family, loss, love, traditions | 1 Comment

thoughts nearly ready to hatch

Posted on November 18, 2016 by robynbird

It’s been fourteen days since I’ve written anything. I was so present in the moments of the last two weeks that I didn’t stop to write. It’s almost as though I couldn’t chronicle the thoughts that ran through my head. Too many too fast. And none of them solid, only the ephemeral gray before the dawn.
A visit to my therapist, serious scribbling in my journal, and the peaceful sadness of taking Thing 2 to the train station in the last few days have given me an opportunity to stop and take a big breath.

I experienced an epiphany…
I’ve got ideas bubbling up…
Thoughts nearly ready to hatch…

Only I’m not exactly ready to write about them this morning…
It does feel nice to write though…

Categories: me | Tags: feelings, ideas, love, peace, thoughts | 1 Comment

charm and grace

Posted on November 4, 2016 by robynbird

Savannah is beautiful.
I don’t think there’s anyone that’ll disagree with me on that one. As a matter of fact, there are many sources placing it on any number of “most beautiful cities in America” lists. Too many to link here…

It’s clean. It’s quiet. It’s secluded.
It has charm and grace.
It isn’t like anyplace else in Georgia.
It really isn’t like anyplace else in the US. Not from the beauty standpoint, because there are indeed some seriously beautiful cities in my country. It really isn’t like anyplace else in the US because Savannah pretty much doesn’t give AF. The city itself and it residents are happily cocooned in their small enclave, all happy to let the world move along. Sure, they know the city thrives on tourism, but tourists come and go…and Savannah remains the same.

This post about our anniversary vacay to Savannah will mostly be photos of places and structures I loved.

Jones Street was voted one of the prettiest street in America by Food and Wine and USA Today.
We walked up and down every inch of Jones street all the way down to Crystal Beer Parlor and I’m here to tell you that it is, without doubt, one of the most beautiful streets I’ve ever walked. And that includes some seriously gorgeous places in Europe, y’all.
This isn’t the best photo because it was important to me to really be present as we walked down Jones Street, but I loved the way the flags looked along this block. If you look closely you’ll see the Union Jack down the street after all those American flags. I do love me a Union Jack.

Walking down Gordon Street, we came across Beth Eden Baptist Church. I loved the look of it’s dark red brick juxtaposed against gray sidewalk and deep green of the magnolia leaves.

This beauty was on Oglethorpe Avenue. I actually stopped traffic to take this photo. I loved this house! Something about the brick gets me every time. I especially loved the way it looked through the foliage.

This one is on Gaston Street facing into Forsyth Park. It’s too big for us…and YBW says it’s WAY to spendy. (He ain’t lying.) Plus there’s too much lawn to mow…but my God is it beautiful!

So much brick.
There is a pattern. I adore the brick. There were some seriously gorgeous stucco houses I just blew right past because they weren’t brick. That’s probably silly of me, but they didn’t move me, however lovely they were.

Further along Gaston Street I found this gem.
It had a sale sign in front of it. It was spendy-ish but almost doable…I want very much to call this house my home.

For now I live here in Virginia. The place I was born and raised.
There is a saying that goes something like this:

“To Be A Virginian either by Birth, Marriage, Adoption, or even on one’s Mother’s side, is an Introduction to any State in the Union, a Passport to any Foreign Country, and a Benediction from Above.” ~ Anonymous

Golly, that sounds kind of ominous…
But it’s also kind of true.
I left here once, but found myself returning “home”.
Makes me wonder what would take me from Virginia and keep me away for good.

I’m telling you, that house on Gaston Street just might be the the thing.
Let’s try it and see!
Whatcha think?

Categories: me | Tags: beautiful American cities, beauty, Jones Street, prettiest street in America, Savannah, vacation | 1 Comment

take me to the river

Posted on November 3, 2016 by robynbird

These steps drop down one hundred fifty feet from Bay Street to River Street in Savannah. Going down them is easy enough…going back up? Well, not so much. They’re steep, and uneven as all get out. (Especially after enjoying daytime drinking with Savannah’s open container law.)
There are warning signs posted at the bottom of the stairs.
Note the amusing graffiti.

Standing along the river are some seriously beautiful buildings. Once factories, mills, or warehouses, they now hold bars, and shops, and restaurants.

One of the buildings was the most interesting minty green color. The ferns were growing right out of the bricks. Years of plant life eating away at the mortar in between the bricks.

Back up the stairs at 100 East Bay Street proudly stands the Old Savannah Cotton Exchange building. Of course it’s nothing cool, and you can’t go in…but the cotton geek in me was having a little squee when I saw it!

Further up East Bay Street, the glistening gold dome of Savannah’s City Hall is truly a sight to behold. I wonder how often they have to touch up the gold leaf up there?

You know, I’m ready to go back to Savannah already again. The city is calling to me…
The squares.
The live oaks.
The Spanish moss.
The gorgeous Autumn weather.
The beautiful buildings and houses.
The open container law…

When I began writing, I heard this song in my brain.
Take me to the river. (But don’t drop me in that water…the Savannah River was kinda grody looking.)
Please listen responsibly.

Categories: me | Tags: River Street, Savannah, Take Me to the River, talking heads, vacation | 2 Comments

pretty pimpin

Posted on November 2, 2016 by robynbird

I discovered this song today and could hardly wait to share!
This is Pretty Pimpin from the album B’lieve I’m Goin Down by Kurt Vile.

Please listen responsibly.

Categories: me | Tags: B'lieve I'm Goin Down, i dig music, Kurt Vile, music, Pretty Pimpin | 3 Comments

Tybee Island

Posted on November 2, 2016 by robynbird

Tybee Island suffered greatly from Hurricane Matthew.
We visited two weeks later and while the residents finally had power, most local businesses were up and running, the clean up was on going.

Access to North Beach was closed completely as this became the place where they brought all the island debris. I watched from atop the lighthouse as the giant trucks were unloaded with their own cranes. It was fascinating. YBW and I discussed how we thought they would deal with the debris once it was all gathered in this spot.

I suggested fire. I knew I was probably wrong, but I loved the idea of it.
YBW suggested they’d bring in huge shredder and make an enormous load of mulch.

Anyway, the lighthouse was cool.

The steps were constructed differently than any other lighthouse I’ve been in. Made it easier to walk up and down without getting dizzy.

Not to mention how beautiful they were.
I’m a sucker for bricks.
The brick with the iron stairs…just look how beautiful!

At the top I was able to see up into the actual fresnel lens.

From the lighthouse, I could see out into the Atlantic…

All the way to the bridge over the Savannah River into South Carolina…

It was a gorgeously warm and breezy day and after the lighthouse, we drove all over the island. Even with the hurricane damage, the beauty and charm was evident. What a precious little place Tybee Island is!

Categories: me | Tags: hurricane damage, Hurricane Matthew, lighthouse, Savannah, Tybee Island, vacation | 2 Comments

Happy Halloween!

Posted on October 31, 2016 by robynbird

I absolutely adore Halloween!
We missed it last year because we were on our honeymoon.

This year I’m ready!

Got my wine.

(I like to trick or treat for wine!)

Got my giant pumpkin full of candy.

Got my witch hat on my head.

Y’all come trick or treat at my house!

Categories: me | Tags: candy, Halloween, pumpkin, trick or treat, witch hat | Leave a comment

carriage house

Posted on October 30, 2016 by robynbird

We stayed on East Gaston Street about two blocks from Forsyth Park at a lovely historic inn called The Gastonian.

We actually stayed in the carriage house.
It was perfect for us!

A teeny downstairs room with a sofa and television.
You know, we never actually utilized this space. I thought for sure we’d watch a bit of the World Series on that couch. But we never turned on the TV at all. We didn’t have time. We went at a full tilt boogie from the moment we woke until we crashed back into bed each night.

The bedroom was upstairs.
I especially loved the brick. And the bathtub. And the gorgeous floors.

We enjoyed beautiful weather by spending a lot of time on our little porch. We even ate breakfast out there Monday morning.

Dorothy Gale said, “There’s no place like home.” and she wasn’t lying.
I was so happy to sleep in my own bed when I got home. But I absolutely adored spending time in the carriage house and would happily go back and stay again.