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| Satchel when first adopted August 2012 |
Hi Mom,
I just wrote to you yesterday because I did not re-frame the "Importance of Socks" post that I started months ago and finally finished from a HEY MOM post to a SENSE OF DOUBT only post, and since this one feels like it has to be a HEY MOM post, I now have two in a row. So maybe Sunday will be a T-shirt reprint so as to keep with my "only two HEY MOMs per week" policy that I set for myself when I stopped daily broadcast of HEY MOM back on July sixth, 2018. Wow... was just earlier this year? It feels like a lifetime ago.
I decided to go with a Throwback picture of Satchel today instead of something from my childhood file because I am not sure if I have ever shown a picture of either puppy as a Throwback pic.
I was thinking the other night how Satchel was first in my heart, the first dog I lived with, shared a bed with, cared for day in and day out ALL THE TIME, my companion, my colleague as a mostly work at home instructor, my best friend, and so, think of "heart and soul," then Ellory is my soul because she's somewhat elusive, wise, deeply spiritual and hold to the highest value of existence, much like Winnie the Pooh: Ellory just is.
But then there are times when I acknowledge that Satchel is the soul, like soulmate, a deep bond, though perhaps more so with Liesel who refers to Satchel as her soulmate, and I should not infringe on that, and then Ellory is very much the heart as she spends all day in bed because she loves bed the most; as she licks my face over and over as I am driving her somewhere fun, sometimes making it hard to see; as she rolls her whole body on top of me as we are waking up in the morning and nuzzles her snout right into the space between my neck and shoulder for kisses and snuggles.
So it's both, kind of like Quantum Physics. They're both; they're neither; they're so much more.
I have shared these before, but they are worth repeating.
The other day I started to cry in class and I had to stop talking for literally about 30 seconds before I was able to master my emotions and speak. Then it happened again talking one-on-one with a student at a different school in a conference.
The crying in class came about because I started to talk about this:
I REMEMBER YOU Hey Mom #1294.
I am not even sure why I also started to cry in front of a student. I was telling her how awesome she is, and maybe it was the look on her face, maybe it was the sense that maybe she does not hear that enough (or at all).
Anyway, I like being a role model to show my students, especially the young men, that being a truly confident and secure man means feeling secure enough to cry, to talk about crying in public, or even to cry in public. Though, I will admit that I am a work in progress. I am not sure if I really am confident and secure, but I am trying my best.
So, I like to show that sensitive side, but really, this is RIDICULOUS. I am not sure, Mom, why my emotions are all at the surface right now, but they are.
Just starting to describe the movie Christopher Robin with Ewan McGregor wrecked me, still, months later. Maybe I need to see it again to make it less of a sharp edged sword to all my emotions.
I was sharing with a friend the other day about the crying and all, and she asked if I had seen the Dumbo trailer.
As the number one movie that throughout my whole life chokes me up any time it's mentioned because of all the mother-child stuff, Dumbo is going to really wreck me.
That's really all for today, but just in case, I made those tear ducts flow, here's a change of pace:
https://www.newsarama.com/42836-jason-momoa-explains-how-aquaman-goes-to-the-bathroom-in-his-suit.html
Thank you, Mom. I am the way I am because of you.
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Reflect and connect.
Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you, Mom.
I miss you so very much, Mom.
Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.
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- Days ago = 1244 days ago
- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1811.29 - 10:10
NEW (written 1708.27) NOTE on time: I am now in the same time zone as Google! So, when I post at 10:10 a.m. PDT to coincide with the time of your death, Mom, I am now actually posting late, so it's really 1:10 p.m. EDT. But I will continue to use the time stamp of 10:10 a.m. to remember the time of your death, Mom. I know this only matters to me, and to you, Mom.
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