advice, anxiety, blog, blogger, creative writing, culture, death, family, Uncategorized, writer, writing

Uncrossed and Undotted

That one person…that one human in your life that knows your inner-workings better than you do. That one wise mind, having a knack for dishing out the best advice with perfect timing. That one platinum heart that loves unjudgmentally  and unconditionally. We all have the one person, at least I hope everyone does.

My person was my Popee… he was one of the most amazing humans that resided on this spinning marble. Caught in a whirlwind of self-doubt and dark thoughts, he always found a way to pull me out of my crushing storms.

10 years since his passing, yet my mind has installed all of his given knowledge from my youngster years. Any rabbit hole moment that I begin to spiral down, his voice projects throughout my mind, giving me a hand to grab onto, pulling me out.

Lessons from fighting for your silver lined dreams to purposely set aside time to be 7 years old again. Life, as beautiful and full as it is, is over in a mere blink. When I am 80 years old, at the beach with my husband, kids and grandkids, I want to have so many memories to reminisce over  while the bonfire crackles that we simply can’t recall them all. A “shoulda, coulda, woulda” ending is not the cherry I want placed upon my sundae.

Tendencies of my t’s becoming uncrossed and my i’s becoming undotted still occur from time to time, especially during those endless midnight black skies. However, while in the thick of my darkness, I hear my Popee’s calming voice and with the sunrise I am once again crossed and dotted.

“Home, a place where I can go to take this off my shoulders…someone take me home…” -MGK 20171119_172029.jpg

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