And the time, such clumsy time

I think I may need to slow down a bit. These last few weeks, I have become a bit of a social butterfly, accepting invites to just about everything, having my weekends planned in ridiculous advance with little room for wandering. It may be getting a little out of hand…

Last Friday night, I got very inebriated on what was meant to be a quiet night of drinks with a small group of girlfriends, but turned into a long night of cab rides, a random house party, interesting strangers, and drunken actions that I do not remember (and would likely regret if I did). My friends have actually filled me in on all the details that I do not recall. Why do these people keep hanging out with me?! Man. No more double IPAs for me. And no more accepting shots from friends.

Anyhow, this past weekend was more mellowed out, thankfully. The gals (they keep hanging out with me) and I made a trip to Oklahoma where we stayed in a beautiful cabin for a weekend of both relaxation and adventure. There was a lot of talking, as you can imagine. Plenty of venting and emotional pouring and mind spilling. We related to one another, gave each other advice, and expressed our love and admiration for each other. It. was. wonderful. I needed that. I am overjoyed that from my failure a few years ago came these marvelous friendships that I strongly cherish and hope to keep forever. It’s funny how life works itself out like that.

At some points during the trip, I admit, I stopped both talking and listening in order to let my mind wander. My brain started calculating and brainstorming, selfishly ignoring whatever was happening around me. The thing is that lately – all month to be exact – I had felt that I lacked the desire to do. Do what? Do it all. Create. Learn. Grow. Help. Move. I knew that I was lacking inspiration, motivation, and energy and I was desperate to find it anywhere I could. So there I was in the middle of nowhere this past weekend, being reminded that life is as beautiful as you allow yourself to perceive it and as simple as you decide to make it. What more do I need than a lovely and peaceful life to do things?

I need time.

That’s the next step: delegating time to what is most important. I do not have to have to a full calendar to feel that I am truly living. It is okay for me to politely decline invites. I can do what I want and only what I want. This year is almost one-third of the way through. In the words of Jimmy Eat World, “If not now, when?” Oh. Listening to For Me This Is Heaven is definitely what I need right now. Thank you, music.

Grandpa Juan

It’s been over two months since my last post on February 15th. I last wrote about having a few months left with my Grandpa. How tragically optimistic of me.

The reality was only about two weeks. Grandpa passed away on March 16th, at home surrounded by loved ones. I say we only had two weeks after my last post because towards the end, it was rough. He wasn’t Grandpa anymore.

My fingers are shaking as I type this and I can barely see through my tears. But I have waited so long to get this all down in words that I cannot bring myself to stop now.

I said goodbye to him on March 15th and it was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. He was laying in his bed and my Mom, who was sitting next to him on the bed, called me over. I stood at the side of the bed and leaned in to kiss that bald head of his, just like I’ve done every time I have said hi to him in the last thirty years. Mom announced to him that it was me. He opened his tired eyes and looked up at me long enough to recognize who I was. Then, the most wonderful thing, he somehow found the strength to lift up his hand towards mine, in a gesture asking me to hold it. So I did. For about ten minutes, we held hands. My aunt eventually asked him a question that upset him and he let go, but it didn’t matter. He asked for my hand and let me say goodbye to him. This after a week of telling people to leave him alone. Ha. Oh, grandpa.

I miss him, of course. I want him back.

I feel so stuck because I don’t know what to do with this loss. How do I honor him? How can I live my life in such a way that would be a tribute to him? Where do I apply all the wonderful lessons I learned from him?

Work hard. Love my family. Keep my sense of humor.

Rest peacefully, you amazing man. I will tell stories about you, love you, and miss you for as long as I live.

Por siempre, Prieta.