Pushy Dara

It's been a hard winter. Ice apocalypse, family difficulties, struggles and the loss of a dear sweet man. Perhaps that's why I've been in a depression, which, believe it or not, isn't like me. Although Trouper might argue, I'm typically Pushy Dara, the "let me organize this disaster, take the helm and make it better" kind of person. Lately, I think that Dara is gone.

I find myself thinking of younger Dara. The Dara who thought 40 was old. The Dara who thought she still had time to figure out her life, the Dara who thought her future was going to be all sunshine and rainbows. That Dara was stupid. Life had other plans. Yes, I'm responsible for my own destiny but lately, I find myself wondering who is upstairs, playing chess with our lives. You move here, jump there, stall here. Who is driving this old dirty pick up truck, me or someone who likes run stop signs and take the curves at 100 MPH? What happened to my plans? Did I ever really have plans or were they youthful delusions?

Okay, I'm rambling and I really don't know where this blog is going, it's just me, having a difficult moment. I miss Texas and sometimes, I just need someone to tell me it's going to be alright. Sometimes I need someone else to be pushy Dara for me, and take his disaster and organize it and make it better. Sometimes the weight of the world is too much for me and I have a hard time seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I don't want to look at the calendar and think about doctor appointments, or what medicine needs to be refilled, or how we are going to get the money to pay for that doctor appointment and medicine. I want to look at the calendar and plan my beach vacation, my getaway from reality. I want to go out on a Friday night, go to the hair salon, plan a trip home to lay on my Mom's sofa and let her cook dinner. Yes folks, I'm feeling sorry for myself. I'm feeling unappreciated, guilty and helpless.

But, reality is, I'm fortunate and I need to always remember that and be grateful. I have my husband, two precious children, and host of family and friends who love us and I have hope. Without hope, we have nothing. I hope my children know how much I love them, I hope my husband knows that I would move the world for him and I hope that life gets better. No, I know it will get better because in the end, Pushy Dara will make sure it does.