Diaries of The Breadman’s Daughter: I Fell in Love.

IMG_2790

Decades ago

In another lifetime

I fell in love

With a beautiful young man.

 

We were barely adults

On the brink

Of becoming

All kinds of things

Beyond what we were

In that sliver of time

And he was my first big love.

 

All capital letters

BIG.

 

I fell hard and fast

I fell deep and wide

I fell

Hopelessly

Painfully

Tragically

In love with this boy-man.

 

When you fall like that

It can only end badly

And it did.

 

All capital letters

BAD.

 

Time and distance

The years pass quickly

But untold seconds

Slow the clock of the heart.

 

Still I think of him

Way more than

Reason or rationality

And good common sense

Dictate that I should.

 

Sometimes I think

It’s sweet that I do

But there are times

When I think it’s

Either bat-shit crazy

Or sadly heartbreaking.

 

All capital letters

SAD.

 

 

 

Diaries of The Breadman’s Daughter: Celebrate.

10169281_825954854018_3991260414717958798_n (1)

Girl Warrior. Celebrate. Everything. And anything. You can always find a reason. Take a moment every day to honor and take pleasure in something. Even the smallest and simplest. The stuff that’s so easy to overlook. The outwardly ordinary. The seemingly run-of-the-mill. Start here and let it grow. Like a heaven-sent happiness seed.

You woke up. You’re alive. You’ve been blessed with another day to give this life your best shot. A clean slate. A fresh beginning. Another day to dream and scheme and breathe utter brilliance into every single thing you do. Take note and rejoice in that astounding thought.

Make every day a special occasion. No matter where you are or who you’re with. Enjoy every second. Whoop and holler. Party hardy. Live it up. Have a ball. Kick up your heels. Be silly and make a fabulous fool of yourself. Let things get insanely messy. Eat drink and be merry. Dress up and go out on the town. Or throw a pajama party for all your besties. Celebrate your friendship, your sisterhood, and all those you hold near and dear. Crack-open a bottle of wine or a bottle of pop. Dunk Oreos in milk. Make bread and break bread. Have big wonderful meals together. Or snuggle two-by-two. Make hot chocolate with extra marshmallows and read a good book. Celebrate your priceless alone time too.

Celebrate the holidays, special occasions and all the magnificent milestones along the way. Don’t let them slip carelessly by unnoticed. For these are the markers of your life. The things you’ll look back on that will make you smile and fill your heart with joy and gratitude. These are the essentials of memory making. The lumps in your throat, the flutter in your heart, and the shiny tears in your eyes. These are your finest happy pills.

Girl Warrior, cherish the gift of celebration all the days of your life. You will never be too old.

20374_235933351643_1443030_n (1)

77137_4756899684761_1110779767_n (1)

282563_10150746238910113_1778902_n (1)

283035_10150725552405113_2960291_n (1).jpg

387597_10150459534573168_1345061253_n (1)

525813_10151655098865571_974987658_n (1)

545678_10150772527840070_1763308297_n (1)

1146571_10151530649566644_1655610633_n (1)

1384209_10152008197744026_68099706_n (1)

1743458_10151899156631568_948465474_n (1)

198409_10151792252635254_1898487007_n (1)

1798422_10151854714851846_1043918147_n (1)

10430386_10152034439016266_9160673429000252042_n (1)

10436206_10152162437015998_3995943291528104077_n (1).jpg

10606000_10152275740286644_8641320534463099119_n (1)

10553352_10152171973215689_7352590395168193023_n (1)

10698541_10152275739686644_7361247579550618014_n (1)

11224717_10153466887955120_3370435198228429291_n (1)

12036533_10153071107396205_4441158630359232288_n (1)

12286090_10156196823175507_1247101570_n (1).jpg

10341901_10152215166781220_5496720267216791269_n (1)

381455_10150531883445126_140081044_n (1)

537087_10151480576095926_1358815625_n (1)

544905_10152448307235918_7760375696915901653_n (1)

11947619_10153664357118653_8948947193219107393_n (1)

1931404_51809980807_8548_n (1)

11169902_10153779476200288_2433327306402686596_n (1)

11707600_10152879327611644_5271184574861126624_n (1).jpg

23514_416809500259_3543085_n (1)

477227_3938403780785_549513267_o (1)

1374118_10153320905985623_1981658943_n (1)

11148602_10155970590400444_5566720691089252388_n (1)

12308572_10153132216982234_4053471450561821448_n (1)

12314041_10208443343747578_8963382455183790771_n (1)

10492529_10202328897846343_5195773454190368562_n (1)

11181629_10155983482920591_4644740386093991676_n (1)

Diaries of The Breadman’s Daughter: The Power of Music.

DSCN1883

Lately every time I hear two particular songs on the truck radio, one particular person comes to mind. My first big love. You know what I’m talking about. The one you’ll never forget. Ever. No matter how hard you try. No matter how many times you tell yourself you’re a fool to feel this way. A foolish young girl then. An equally foolish old broad now.

I’ve also learned recently that time has no affect on this kind of love.

Chances are, I might never have realized just how big a deal this guy was to me had I not bought a truck. And had that truck not come loaded with six-months worth of Sirius Radio. And in case you’re wondering, six months is just long enough to become addicted to the billions of stations Sirius carries. You name it; they’ve got a station for that. Let’s just say I’ve listened to a lot of good music over the past five years.

Last summer I discovered a station called The Bridge. This station features mellow classic rock and ‘70s folk rock. There’s a lot of acoustic stuff from guys like Jackson Browne and James Taylor. I had no idea I liked their music so much until I started tuning into The Bridge.

In addition to discovering a ton of fabulous old-new music, I’ve also taken a few trips back to another era in my life, all the while driving in this one. It was bound to happen. I’d hear a song or two that reminded me of him. Ones that would fill my spirit with doleful lamentations and serve as poignant reminders that even the passage of time and tornadoes, the heart simply remembers what the head discards with yesterdays old love letters.

The first song, the happier memory-maker of the two, is Paul McCartney’s Maybe I’m Amazed. I say this one is happier only because this song was from the beginning of our affair with love. Picture this. A darkened room lit only by a single candle stuck into the top of a Chianti bottle, the kind with the fiasco basket, with rivers of wax dripping down onto the table. This was a classic ‘70s mood-setter. Now tune your ears to this. He puts Maybe I’m Amazed on his record player and says, “This song is how I feel about you. I think of you every time I hear it.” Nice. I was intoxicated. Not only by his earnest declaration of love, that was beyond anything I could have ever imagined, but by the Chianti. I was seriously drunk. Which explains why I thought something like this, “I must be amazing if a guy as cute and popular and sexy as him, feels this way about me. And he played the piano just like Paul McCartney. How did I get so lucky?”

So Maybe I’m Amazed is the happy ‘in the beginning, everything is new and wonderful, once upon a time fairytale’ song.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MWrGSa-Asdk

And then there’s Carole King’s It’s Too Late. Picture this. It’s the middle of summer. It’s stinking hot and humid in Northwestern Ontario. I’m pregnant with my first big love’s child. And we’ve split the sheets. As in gone our separate ways. Or more accurately, he’s gone touring and my heart has gone in about a million separate ways. Now tune your ears to this. The phone rings. I pick it up. Hear my first big love’s voice on the other end. My heart momentarily lifts to glorious angelic heights. “He wants me back,” I hopefully (and foolishly) think. Then he says this, “I thought of you today. That Carole King song, It’s Too Late came on the radio this afternoon.” I don’t remember a word he said after that. I just remember putting down the phone and lying in the middle of my bedroom floor on my back, staring up at the ceiling. And bawling my fucking brains out. My life was over. Of course, it wasn’t. It just felt that way.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E5TxpJVKKQ8

Eventually I picked myself up off the floor and started the life that would lead to the life I have today. One filled with music. And love. And love of music.

There you have it. Drive time. Two beautiful piano songs accompanied by two bittersweet memories.

IMG_0175