Sometimes

Sometimes, all you can do is listen to your dog snore. As you listen to his labored breathing, you wonder how much time he has left. We are all terminal. I know this. They say dogs, with a much shorter life span, teach us how to grieve. After my oldest dog Frodo passed last year, the thing that kept me going was my dog Chewbacca. He is a weird, neurotic, almost human eyed shih tzu. When he looks deep into my eyes, we see each other. 

Truth is, I always get a bit melancholy around this time. I miss my dad. It's been almost 17 years, yet it feels like yesterday. I changed so much after my dad passed. My entire life came into sharp focus. When he died, I took a big leap off a cliff and came back home to the Inland Empire. And yes, I still stagnated for a year at a big firm, but eventually I found myself and my career as a deputy public defender and later, as a writer.

The writing is calling me. All you can do sometimes is listen to the call. It's telling me to jump again. To take a big risk. To understand that sometimes, today is all we have. If my dad was here I know what he would say. He would say, "You're a smart girl Jenny. You'll make it happen."

We only have what we make of it. This life. The now. It's why we're all here. To catch our dreams and live them fully. And truly.

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Thanksgiving thanks

Gratitude is important. It's what this holiday should really be about. It's about seeing your family and appreciating them, as well as about appreciating life.

I've kinda been in a funk. I don't always talk about it, but the weather along with the state of the world has gotten me down. I've been sleeping a lot. I wake up early so the earlier I go to bed, the earlier I rise which creates a vicious circle. I woke up early to start working yesterday, as we were ending early, and went to bed at 730 pm. I'm writing this at 330 am.

Is it a mild depression? It could be. I still have my anxiety but it's been pretty manageable. I work on not letting my "thoughts" get the best of me. And I'm not letting myself get overextended. I've realized that my way of managing my anxiety is to do so so much that I have no time to "think" which causes more anxiety, and another vicious cycle. 

What am I most thankful for? I'd have to say I'm most grateful that my mom is still here, along with Chewbacca, the shih tzu. And yes, of course I'm grateful for my husband, although he's the one I take for granted and I'm trying to show my love for him more overtly. I'm not good at being lovey dovey but I'm trying because I still have stars in my eyes for him. 

I'm also grateful for my mother in law and my sisters and nieces. Would I love to have my own kid? Sure, but it wasn't in the cards and the ache of that loss is getting easier, though there was a time I didn't think I would bounce back from it, but I did. 

You see, I have also found that gratitude is not just being grateful for getting everything you asked for. Sometimes gratitude is thankfulness for what you got instead. And the universe has gifted me a lot. I know this. I do. I love my writing "career", if I dare call it that. It's a dream come true. 

So thank you universe, I'm grateful for what I have received. 

Romance stories

I love me a good romance. Anyone who knows me well knows that I am a sucker for a romance. In fact, I read hundreds of harlequin romance novels as a kid and it either sustained or ruined me for life depending on your perspective.

I have a poem that speaks to my view of romance. For me, it is "the ordinary rote routine" and I find beauty in banality. Having coffee with my husband every day at 6 am with Chewbacca at my feet is my favorite thing in my life. And while I still tend to do too much, and overextend myself, Covid times taught me to find joy in home. I love cuddling up in a blanket on a cold, rainy day like today, watching Hallmark movies and eating my husband's delicious culinary creations. 

So for me, like I said, romance is in the little things. It's seeing my husband across a casino and realizing how handsome I think he is even thirty years in. It's my husband saying I'm his favorite artist and creative. It's going to the grocery store together. And he is my favorite person. He drives me crazy yes. Those peccadillos that  make us human, they can sure get on one's nerves. It makes him bonkers that I crack my knuckles. It makes me irritated when he channel surfs for a half hour trying to find something to watch on television. 

But there's a symmetry and a synergy between us after all this time. He can tell what I'm thinking just by a glance. He knows when I'm off. Sometimes before I do. And he knows when I need him most. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is that don't underrate a good romance because it's what life is made of. It's what life is for. Love, love, love, a great band once repeated in a song, it's all we really need.

Why I love 5 am

It's 5 am. This time is all mine. I listen to the dog snore. My husband breathe. I read an article about a band I like. I post a graphic about my good friend's book party. I snuggle under my Ralph Lauren comforter.

I think about a few of my clients from yesterday and my amazing public defense colleagues. They're warriors and they all work so hard for a needy population. My best day is when I get someone out of custody and I did. But still, it was a wicked busy day. I wasn't perfect. I was a bit overwhelmed at times. Not always patient. I just did my best. By the end of the day, I was wrecked and of course, there was yet another fire to put out in the late afternoon. 

When I got home, I went to bed early after watching re runs of The West Wing (I'm on my fourth or fifth viewing of the totality of the series, it's my thing).

Then I woke up. And it was an entirely new day. That's why I love 5 am. It's a burgeoning day full of possibilities. And yes, I forgot to charge my phone, and I have stuff to get done today, yet still, the time feels magical. It's as if I can accomplish anything today. At 5 am.

Holidaze

This year, we are meeting for brunch for Thanksgiving. I think it's just easier. Plus, as my sister Jackie pointed out recently to me, and which I just kind of realized myself, it's never been the same since my dad died years and years ago.

Dad was always the one who loved Thanksgiving. I never realized until I was in my late thirties, and he was long gone, how much he was the sun we all revolved around on the Thanksgiving holiday. 

I remember with fondness how he would bellow at me to eat.  "Eat some veggie tray Jenny! And I made deviled eggs for you!"

I write a lot about my struggles as a kid and a young adult, but I never was neglected. My dad and mom were always there. My mom sometimes had to work the holidays because the Chinese restaurant she worked at was open, but she always ate with us, choosing to work the night dinner shift so she could spend time with all of us. 

My family was and is a motley crew. From blue collar to white collar, and most all of the women are former waitresses, but are now composed of teachers, a lawyer, medical professionals and all readers along with a few part-time writers both realized and unrealized. I hope that we are also all truth tellers, and memory savers.

This holiday, I hope that we all remember my dad, grandpa to some, who started it all with my mom. Thank god she is still here. I simply don't know what I would do without her.  My mom, aka the Judy my dad was referencing when he sang Hey Jude" to her in a country twang, is my life raft to my family and to the memory of my dad and to many of my remembrances of who I was and a reminder of who I aim to be.  

Yesterday

Yesterday, the Beatles released "Now and Then", a new song. It went to number one in the UK. It was the band's first number one in sixty years. A record breaking feat. 

I watched the official video and in it, all the members play a part. It's so beautiful, sad, poignant and nostalgic, especially since John Lennon's voice is so prominent on the song. I wept seeing them all together again. 

My twin sister and I chose sides years back. She's team Paul. I'm team John. But I've always loved their combination most of all. 

Now I know that there are some people that don't like the Beatles. Other than "Hey Jude", which was my late dad's song to my mom Judy, my mom is not a big fan. But most of us are. 

And this latest reminds us, it's never too late to come together now. 

Today and Tomorrow

It is 4 am. I went to bed at 7 pm last night. The night before, my dog had an attack at 3 in the morning and I couldn't go back to bed. I was wrecked all day. I felt sluggish. Slow. Tired. I said, "I wish I could just sleep ten hours and wake up tomorrow".  

So I did. Well I slept nine hours. Close enough if you add in the nap I took in the afternoon.

Sleep is everything to me. The older I get, the more I need it to function, especially to write. I don't always sleep well. When we travel, I barely sleep at all. I have a tough time without my own bed and my dog snoring in his bed by me. There's a comfort in it. I cuddle up in my Ralph Lauren cotton comforter. It's thick and warm.

I've been thinking a lot about what I need. Not what I want. What do you need to be content? I mean really need? I think I often confuse want with need and I'm starting to realize that I don't need much to be happy. 

Today I will focus on today and not the future. I am trying to live in the present. I try to no longer live in the past or focus too much, because we all must in some ways, on the future. 

Today is today. The sun will set today. The sun will rise tomorrow. Dream big dreams while you sleep and when you wake up, live. Just live.

Burrowing

Yesterday, I spoke to a group of middle schoolers. That's not usually my age range. I tend to speak to high schoolers or college students. But the kids surprised me. They were so energetic and passionate about writing. And so engaged. 

Youth is definitely not wasted on these youngsters. Their depth of interest surprised me. It reminded me of how I used to live for books. I still do but life gets in the way. Work. Bills. Shit I gotta do. 

I wish I could spend every Saturday at the library. I would burrow in the stacks and read every book I could. I would fall asleep book in hand and wake up magically transported to the land between the pages. Now that's a good dream.

Over the rainbow

I am obsessed with the idea of how one gets somewhere. I don't mean it literally, such as whether you walk or drive, but figuratively. How does someone get to a destination in their life they've been seeking?

When I think of how I became a lawyer, I've realized that it was out of survival and a yearning for legitimacy. To this day, I'm not sure it was the right choice for my mental health. Law is stressful. It can be negative. There's a lot of pressure.

When I left corporate litigation and big firm life, I was seeking something more rewarding and a career more in line with my ideals. I found it as a deputy public defender. Yet, I wonder, am I stagnating by staying? My philosophy has radically changed. I no longer believe in this system of so called justice, but I do believe in people and the power of redemption. So I stay. 

But I've realized that I work best without extreme pressure and stress. I get things done, but negativity tends to stymie me. Lately, in my day job, there's been much negativity. I try to always stay positive and engaged but it's difficult when others are not. 

So I just keep telling myself, this too shall pass. I wrote my books and created my writing career out of thin air. And I can create another avenue for myself for the future me. This job is one I've done for many years. It will not last forever. So I will just do my best while I'm here and try to stay positive. 

That's all I can do, that's all everyone can do. Just move forward and visualize what's next over the rainbow.