Skip to main content

Free Spirit?

I was called a free spirit by a woman who bothered to get to know me. I was shocked by her assessment. At that point in my life, I had "I don't know how many" jobs. I was a food service worker, cashier, bartender, typist, chiropractic assistant, rental assistant, real estate personal assistant, busgirl, administrative assistant, executive assistant to the president of an aerospace company, a business owner, a Mary Kay representative., need I say more? I was unemployed and looking with a newly-acquired accounting degree after 40. I was Alcoholismworking on my second marriage, blending-in my beautiful daughter, making amends, staying sober. Which implies that I was a drunk at some point in my life.

On closer inspection, following a bad break-up of my marriage to my daughter's father, I got kind of wild. I attempted suicide, fell in hero worship with my paramedic and learned about skydiving. Went skydiving and had it videotaped for posterity.  Started hanging out with lower companions and learned how to ride Harley Davidson motorcycles. Drank to excess out of fear and loneliness. Lost a gorgeous 2,000-square foot home in earthquake country, moved two states away, began again.

Moved home, fell in lust often, contracted an STD, investigated and rejected an alternative lifestyle, navigated sobriety until it stuck. Reconstructed myself, bought a condominium, bought a Harley and rode the Hell out of it, dallied with outlaw bikers, wore "Property of" vestiture briefly, rejected the lifestyle, went mainstream.  Renewed my love to crochet and knit with a vengeance. Became a shrewd landlord, went to college, earned a degree, graduated with honors, invested 401ks, followed the stock market, read lots of books, learned home design and home improvement, became enthralled with yard improvement, plant and bird identification, traveled spontaneously, journaled, photographed obsessively.

I guess you could call it that. I just thought I was trying to find out who I was.  Bless her for her kindness.

Labels

Labels:
Location: University of Washington Medical Center, University of Washington, 1959 Northeast Pacific Street, Seattle, WA 98195, USA

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I Remember...

I remember catching fireflies,  putting them in a jar, as a girl of five. I picked pears off a tree that overhung an alleyway on my route home from school, then enjoyed the forbidden fruit. .I had a golden cat who chased a gray mouse through our living room sending my mother, 3-year old sister, and me screaming atop the sofa and chairs. We lived in a farmhouse and I watched Romper Room. A daddy longlegs skittered across my dirty kid legs as I teeter-tottered on a broken kitchen chair back. I played grocery store and laid out a bedroll for group nap time in preschool. We lived in an apartment attached to a bakery. My maternal grandparents visited and a photo was snapped. Grandma held Dawn and Grandpa held me. I held Grandpa's chin. Walking through the back of the flour-caked kitchen, I saw scrumptious pastries and colorful toys stuck in the cupcakes with my hungry kids eyes. We lived in a two-story apartment building next door to a large farmer's field.  That field was my...
3 comments
Read more

I Heart Trellis

Early in our relationship, though we were traditional nine-to-fivers, we were driven to create something together. At 36 and 43-years old, respectively, we were beyond creating babies. Besides, we came into our relationship with a perfect daughter each. Mine was 13 and his, twenty-three. Both blonde, bright, and beautiful and his came with a bonus, a baby! I came into the relationship with a condo that needed no work. He had a work-in-progress in the woods, actually two. We would spend our lives together redesigning and improving these "cabins in the woods". But, before that we took an afternoon cutting down young alders to use to make a trellis. Working together, we .wove supple, young branches into a nine-foot tall trellis with two hearts stacked one atop the other. We were in the gooey, sickeningly sweet, first months of love, forging a new life together. Here we are seventeen years later, separated by circumstance, through no fault of our own. I live in a hospice faci...
3 comments
Read more

Tuesday

Tuesday is shaping up to be my best day of the week. Every day holds the requisite eating, changing, television, and napping. But Tuesday, I got a glorious, hot bath in a handicap-accessible bathtub with my Angela and Lisa, reorganized my shower caddy with my Lisa, read "The White Album" by Joan Didion with my Lindsey, "supervised" doughnut-making and sampled same with my Sandra among others, and listened to Ryan Feng play classical piano. A new book fell into my lap today. Of course, I mean that figuratively. "Play It As It Lays" by Joan Didion was just laying on top of the informal Bailey Boushay House library cart, so I borrowed it. .Guess what we'll be reading? I feel very blessed!
2 comments
Read more