My trip to a small town named Big Spring is officially over. My grandma is officially 85 and I am officially reflecting.
I got back yesterday afternoon and poured myself out of the car after the 7 hour trek. The drive flew by. It’s kind of exactly what I needed. It gave me some perspective time.
Something beautiful happened this weekend. But I’m not exactly sure what it was.
All of the awful things that have happened to me in the past year are things that are not unique to me. Breakups, bad days, weird people, insane car problems, mouth surgery (the list goes on). And I know that. But sometimes perspective helps with processing all of it. Sometimes my perspective gets lost, and I don’t even know it.
Saturday morning I ran 12 miles (oh, I know). I ran along a highway straight outside of Big Spring, pass multiple anti-Obama signs, under a highway and then into…nowhere. Or, rather, it felt like nowhere. A peaceful nowhere with lots of dirt and cacti and sapphire blue sky.
Saturday and Sunday I caught up with all of the family. We all just picked up where we left off from four years ago. My uncle started an envelope for donations for the film I am working on. I had to hold back the tears of appreciation. My cousin (who is about 7 months younger than me) and I swapped music– she had me listen to Patti Smith and I told her about PJ Harvey. We bonded over bands such as MIA, Sleighbells, and Toro y Moi. My aunt told me the story of how she fell in love with her hubby who she recently married. And my half-bro gave me rando hit n’ run backrubs. We played games…game after game. Things, Bananagrams, and Xbox Kinect (which is still blowing my mind and burning my thighs). On Monday my step-mom took me out thrift shopping and bought me a ton-o-plates. Yes, plates. I need plates–like to eat from. I sold all of those back from Breakup Bonanza 2010. I also found other fun finds, including an old library catalog for $25…**BIG EYES** I know. And if all this wasn’t full of enough love, I filled myself with TONS of food. Meats were everywhere. Sausage, rib, pig butt (which is the shoulder, not butt!), chicken…ugh. I’m FULL of meat…and it hurts.
And my dad, I never said anything dramatic like I mentioned in my last post. It wasn’t necessary. Or maybe I copped out. But I feel like whatever I decided, was right.
What I know…and perspective helps…is that my dad loves me. He really does. I needed him to show it to me through actions, and he did. He washed my car, randomly. He made me breakfast after I ran that delicious 12 miles mentioned above. He even went for a drive to tried to find me and make sure I was doing ok. He fixed my silver platter my step-mom gave me and sanded down my thrift store cutting board, making it look brand new! I know that sounds petty. Looking for love in actions. But I do, especially when it comes to men.
When he went off to work Tuesday morning, right before I left for Oklahoma, he hugged me and said, “Thank you so much for coming down. It really made my heart happy.” I replied, “It made my heart happy too.”
And it did. One big happy heart over here. A heart that knows I’m loved. I already knew this, but now I truly see that no one was doing things because they felt obligated to. We all make mistakes. We regret things. They really do love me. My dad really does love me. What was I thinking? I think I figured out what that beautiful thing that happened this weekend was–I got some perspective.
And I took these for you, of course…so enjoy the beauty and beastliness that are the twins separated at birth, Oklahoma and Texas (OK is the beauty, of course) Yee-haw!
**click for biggerness**