Good Morning, Dad!
I had all intentions of writing yesterday, but it was national chicken wing day, and I was so busy being excited about my wing dinner, I forgot to write. You know how much I love wings, so I’m sure you understand.
All is settling down here, dad. I’m feeling a lot better. I look at photos of you each night before bed, and I put a tiny bit of your ashes in a locket that I wear all the time. It rests on my heart chakra….right where you belong.
I was sad for you to miss national chicken wing day, but I’m not sad for you to be missing most other news. Jeeeesh. The killing of Cecil the Lion is all I can bare. Then add Donald Trump to it, and, well, the world feels terrible. I feel like I can write the news each day before things even happen. Some awful shooting, some horrible presidential candidates (I won’t name them here, but really, people can fill in their own blanks. Being that you were apolitical, I won’t get all preachy when I’m writing to you. You heard plenty of my opinions when you were alive, and since I’m a hippy, free spirited folk singer, people probably already know which way I lean). Any who…..the news. You always hated the news. I know there’s probably lots of good news, too. I wish it was talked about more. I just don’t care what mega stars are getting divorced. Seriously. Who gives a shit? Tell me who’s doing good in the world. Help me do good in the world. And on that note…..
On the Music front…..one of my main struggles since you passed is understanding sense of purpose in my musical life. I mean seriously. I spend most of my time on the road, away from home, away from the people I love, away from miss Lucy the dog, away from having the garden I can’t have because I’m away, away from the chickens I also can’t have because I’m away, alway from being able to help a neighbor, away from being able to volunteer…….I can go on forever. What I do on the road seems so trivial compared to an existence I can have at home, BUHHHHT just when I was about to throw in the towel and figure out how to be home all the time, I received the most beautiful e-mail from a woman named Paula. I don’t know her, but she was at a show of mine this past year, and the letter she sent reminded me that music can be so healing. I don’t normally share stuff like this, because bragging isn’t my way in the world, and this feels a little like that, but for the purpose of explaining this to you, I’ll just share one little quote from her extremely thoughtful message. She said, “So, you and your art have traveled with me from despair to tranquil happiness. Your voice – shit, your magnificent pipes, have been my soundtrack to healing. ” And just like that, I’m ready to play more shows (that barely anyone attends), because you just never know, dad. You really never know who might be there and who might need to hear that show in that specific moment in time. Life is so awesome like that! And although my plan is to play less and be home more, I’m actually excited to write again and record a new album, which you would have worn out on your boom box. You had a boom box! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I do want to thank Paula for her message. I hope I can explain to her how much the timing of it matters in my life. Thank you for your honesty, Paula. And dad, you should watch over her. She’s good peeps. Oh, and I’m singing with Danny at Strange Brew in Austin this Sunday. You never went there, but you would have liked it a lot.
On the fertility front, Danny and I are rockin’ it. Progesterone shots in the ass that are mostly fine, but I sometimes have moments that make little to no sense at all. Example…….I was in a very adorable little shop in Charlottesville the other day and I just looked at Danny and said, “Everything in here is so beautiful.” And I started crying. Right in front of the pottery and the post cards. Crying. Tears running down my face. Danny is so cute in those moments. He makes the perfect amount of fun of me and gives me a hug and shuffles me out the door. Dad, he’s taking real good care of me (although he’s down to the zero nicotine on his e-cig, and between that and my hormones, we’re two crazy people). BUT YAHOO FOR DANNY! You were never addicted to anything, but let me tell you, it is nearly impossible to quit. You’d be so proud of him.
On the crafting/home DIY front, I finished painting the little rental unit and decoupaged the light switch covers. I also took some photos. See:
I think that’s all for today. Life is good. I’m easing back into this universe at my own pace and I still have moments of such sadness, but they feel different now. I don’t feel as panicked. And I’m sleeping a little better. And I saw you in my dreams for the first time last night and it was awesome. Thanks for showing up. You were always good at that.
I love you and miss you, dad. And I’m always crying by the end of writing to you. I hope no one ate your angel wings on National wing day…….
p.s. Here’s a little photo series of you and Austin the day before you died. This is how amazing you were (and SO FUNNY!):