Tears don’t callus.

They say children who’s parents die when they’re young cry more readily.

I think about things like that - especially before or after therapy.  Been in and out over various things mainly because we evolved as a result of our disposition to connect.  

And that’s what an orphan (even half orphan) understands.

Old wound.  Feels like a Scarlet letter sometimes.  Can I ever put my story down?  Just be ...alive ...in a moment?

So I strive to connect.  I reach out all the time.  I’ve learned the wisdom of closing doors but I never keep them locked.  I pause.  I reflect.  I listen to the universe’s messages now.  I love my new faith.  I come back when I can.

The cover of the jacuzzi blows over me in my morning meditation.  

Scares the shit out of me because it felt like a reminder of the inevitable.  Time could be up.

Worked.  That’s just what I needed to get out of my narrative and experience a moment.

Listen to me... jacuzzi.  People are dying out there.  What have I to complain about?

You have a right to be happy.  

Does feel lately like I’m getting pinned to a cross.  I see anger, I assuage anger... I’m not allowed to be angry though.  I still apologize before I’m sorry.  But I am sorry.

Nanette.  What genius.  What dynamic unfolding of the wisdom beyond?

Just shared a unique perspective on my grandma with her estranged daughter (my aunt).  Very likely a mistake because she may focus on some small unintended slight not appreciate that I’m on my journey too,  But I tried my best to convey it honestly and without harm.  Keeps me growing.  Reflecting now I can see possible purpose in my truth if it in anyway sparks a thought of forgiveness between them.  Perhaps that might help heal the decades of strife they shared.

Decades they shared.

I cry again.  Drop of hat.  Hot fresh tears pouring over my first wound.

Tears don’t callus.

You know what I mean.

I’m from...

...sizzling concrete streets and cracked fire hydrants.  I’m from metal fire escapes, stoops, bent Cat Tails and heavy grating and metal doors.  

I’m also from old tire swings, and padded pine beds, warm cow flop, blueberries, and Lilacs.  I’m from rustling rivers, icy country lakes, sunk and sticky mud.  I’m from Snapple Facts, bagels, and pizza, and bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches.  I’m Everything by the Bangles, Bon Jovi, Family Ties verses Growing Pains, Empire, Jedi, Deanna and both Crushers.  I’m from Zapped, The Lost Boys, Point Break and Reality Bites. I’m Before Sunrise.  I’m My Dinner with Andre.  I’m Contact.  

I am from Astoria, Queens; Auburndale, Bayside, and Franny Lew.  I’m from West Bubblefuck in the Catskills.  I’m from Honesdale, Pennsylvania, and the Wayne County Fair.  I’m from lawn mowers and weed wackers, cut grass and chopped wood.  I'm the Fourth of July and Christmas, broken plastic face masks, eggs and shaving cream.  Carnivals, St. Patrick, and Steuben Day Parades.  I’m the sweet songs of a thousand crickets.  Smoky cooking fires, sparkling touchable bright white stars.  I’m from late night conversations on hills, and basements by TV light.  I’m mythological. I’m a star in a constellation.  I’m the cold crazy of a Polar Bear.  I’m the warmth of a glowing full moon.

I’m from the Boomers’ Tony and Laura, Tony and Marianne, and later, just from Tony.  I'm from my Dynamic Uncle Dany and my Granny, “The Boss.”  I’m Pudding Face from wind pudding and air sauce and the Good Stuff Restaurant, a mother bird feeds her young, and everybody and his brother.  I'm from Pinochle, Mille Bourne, Candyland, Clue.  I’m  Curious George hanging by his tail and the monocled Monopoly man.  From Pong to Pitfall,  BASICA to Windows.  I’m from cheap cigars, Half n Half pipe tobacco, Schaefer Beer and Marlboro Lights.  I’m charcoal art class, drafting class, and cutting class.  I'm from Great Adventure, the Greatest American Hero, and Great Falls, Montana.  I’m from the under the boardwalk.  I’m from the smell of bacon, spinach with eggs, ham swirls, garlic and onion powder, Polly-O Mozzarella Cheese, grandma’s meat balls and deep, deep, deep dish pizza without onions or mushrooms.  Really, I’m from Native American Tarot Cards, skinny dipping, and Jesus.  I’m from a 2x6 kiddy pool with 5’ inflatable plastic dolphin.  I’m from flight school and the Top Gun Soundtrack.  I’m from the tracks.  I’m from trees, rocks and rooftops.  I’m from all the inner and outer crevices of all of it.