Fleeting Moments at 40

To be 41 is health concerns, surrender, nostalgic trips back home, scary flights where you think your children might lose a parent, thyroid issues that might explain your bitchiness, and life's path always having that bend at the end that you didn’t see coming.

I come to you, journaling from the end of a Mom night out, a spontaneous rejection of tantrums and parenting. I dropped them off, fed them, fed the dogs, and left. I grabbed tacos and a beer on one side at one bar, a cheeseburger and a High Noon at another. Watermelon Vodka, to be exact. I enjoyed beautiful views, crowds, wonderful music. I called a couple of mom friends and they told me to live it up for all moms. And it all ended with art. Relevant art. A perfect night. It was indeed a beautiful moment. That’s ours. Now, back to the grind.

You do what you love while buzzing on the inside and caffeine hasn’t even hit your bloodstream construction worker headphones to drown out the tantrum the bills the reality of aging the realities of health all the things you want to sort out that God says to hand Him still swirl in your head creating a whirlpool deep and dark and you can just see yourself trying to stay out of the middle write, write, write write poetry, just write