| Current mood: | Everything, all in one |
| Current music: | "This one's for the girls" by Martina McBride *repeating* |
Take one breath at a time...
It's been awhile, huh? Yea, it has. Sorry about that. Either I didn't have time to write, or I didn't feel like writing, or I didn't know what to write. But now, I have time to write, I feel like writing, and I know what to write. As you all can clearly see, my life is not an easy one. Nor is anyone else's. I'm not trying to say my life is the hardest. It's from from it. It's just not an easy one. There is a difference.
My sister and I, are speaking. We are on good terms. As matter of fact, we are on very good terms. I don't know what was wrong with us, for that month or so. I just felt totally left out. Like she didn't want me as her sister anymore. We couldn't get along, or even be in the same room, for even two minutes, without snapping on each other or getting into some major fight. It was crazy. And it really made me sad, because my sister and I had been so close before that. She was one of my best friends. We had that special sisterly bond. Sure, we had, had our arguments before that, but they weren't that big, or often. And we always made up. Actually, we moved on.
But now, we are great. Just like we were before. Sure, she gets on my nerves a little. But my sister has a lot going on in her life. And she's taking it pretty well. I respect her for that. We do a lot together now, and I mean, we're friends again. This is going to sound silly, but it's like before, when we couldn't get along, she was oil, and I was water. (Or vice-versa, it doesn't matter. You'll get the point) But we just couldn't, and wouldn't mix. But now, we're water and, whatver mixes with water? We'll just say water. Water and water mixes. I don't know how weird that sounds, but there wasn't any other way to explain it that I could think of. We're good. I hope it'll stay like this.
My family now. Well, today, mom and dad went up to Madison. For the doctors appointment. This was the doctor who was willing to do surgery. They went, and came back. With not much news. There are three things my dad needs to do, before they can do anything. 1) Lose weight. 2) Quit Smoking. (Not a lot, just those little cigars, is all.) 3) Do his back exercises, to stregthen his back muscles. Then, they'll go back, and the doc will consider, just consider, fusing two of the five disks together. Once, and if, they do that, he'll most likely never be able to bend at the waist, and maybe even never be able to bend, period, again. But the pain will lessen.
My family. What can I say about them? When we aren't crying, fighting, or making fun of. We are laughing. We have some great times. And I gotta hane it to us, we are doing ok, considering everything. Some times. Others, we can't keep it together. Some people might get confused by that. Sometimes, we're good. And others, well, we aren't. We take it, day by day....We seize the moment...We take one breath at a time...
Sometimes, I wake up, and expect it to be like it was a few years ago. I remember it all still. On school days. I remember it perfectly. My mom would wake me up at 6:30. I would be acle to still here the shower running, because my sister would be just finishing up in there. I would roll over, and go back to sleep. My mom would try again, and fail. Then, she did the only thing that will wake me up. She took my covers off. That woke me up, for sure! So I would roll out of bed, (literally, sometimes falling), and I would drag my feet to my door, wake down the hallway, open the cabinet door, grab two towels. One for me, and one for my hair. Then, I would wait by the door, until my sister came out. I usually snuck up on her, just to scare her. It was always fun. Well, then, I would take me shower, Practically falling asleep under the hot water. And I would always, turn around or something, or stand p from bending to get something, but I would always get dizzy. My mom would come and shout to me when it was, quarter to seven, ten to seven, and seven. Then I would get out, wrap my towels around me, walk to my bedroom, freezing my butt off. I'd get dressed in my St. Therese uniform, put a little bit of my pink Bath and Body Works eyeshadow on, and some lip gloss. Then I would towel dry my hair, and brush it. Put in my hoops, that I wore everyday, and go downstairs. If I had time, I'd grab a Pop*Tart or something to eat. The four of us would get into the Dodge Durango, and head downtown. My sister would always give me a piece of gum, and we would drop my dad off at his shop. Not in front of the shop, but at the corner of the block. My sister would usually take the front, unless her and my mom were fighting, then I'd get it. We would go to St Joe's, and drop off my sister. Then I would get into the front seat, and look for music. We'd drive to St. Therese and my mom would quiz me for my test/quiz of the day. If it was a Tuesday or Thursday, my mom would come into the church, and sit on the right side, in the back. I'd go to my classroom, go to my hook, which was the last one, on the turn. I'd hang up my packback, take out my books, and walk into the classroom, while flipping my hair. I'd walk to my desk, place my books down, and take my chair off my desk. I would look at the bored, to see if there were any announcements, then exchange words with my friends. At 7:45, my teacher, Mr. Haug would call us to line up for mass. The boys would run to the front of the line. Pushing and shoving to be first. I never understood why they wanted to be in the first few pews of the church. The girls on the other hand, would slowly walk to the end of the line. Carefull counting by fours to see who they would be sitting with. Asking people to switch spots with them, or getting out of line to get a tissue, then going to the end of line next to their friend. We would quickly apply lip gloss, then be on our way to church. We walked in, I would smile at me mom, then we would genuflect, saying 'Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament, we Adore you.' Then we would file into the pews, that were assigned for out grade, four by four. Realizing, that we counted wrong, and were stuck next to somebody we didn't like. We'd kneel, and pretend to pray. Then mass would start. After mass, we'd start out day.
I remember the past. But only what I want to remember. I remember my routine, because I want to remember it. I don't remember what our silly fights were about, because I don't want to relive them. I must say, out of all my years at that school. I think 6th grade was the best. And I'm almost sure everyone would agree with me on that. I don't know what it was, but I always felt that there was something special about our class. We all had a special bong, a connection, that made us all so close. I love the St. Therese group. We were a good group of kids, most of the time, but we always had fun. We had our dumb, silly fights, but we made up within ten minutes. I miss those days. And I sure am gonna miss everyone next year. When we all split up. It'll be my first year not seeing them all in the hallways, since third grade. A part of me will be gone.
Now, I've said all I have to say. I feel better. I feel empty, yet I feel satisfied. Why does that sound like something from the Bible? I'm just starting to realize that things are really changing. I mean, really, really changing. As in nothing will be the same. This is my last year, we all my best friends. You'd think I'd be crying by now, but I'm not. My sister said something to me today, that, was very, smart. 'I just need to breath. I just need to take one breath at a time.'
Maybe for you, that doens't mean much, or maybe, it does mean something. But to me, it means that I need to take things, one step at a time. Take it slow, and keep it slow. Don't rush into anything. Just keep it nice and slow. Accept, and if you can't, learn to adjust. We all have to make changes, and accept them. Even if you can't completely accept them, you need to adjust to them. Life doesn't always go the way planned. Which might be a good thing. Then again, might not be.
As I said before, this is my source of freedom. When I write, I feel free. My emotions are let loose. Almost as if they have wings that need to be stretched. I don't know why, but I feel that I just need to say thank you to you all. Thank you to everyone who has ever helped me with anything. I just need to take one breath at a time.
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