I was reading an article by an anonymous writer that was titled “living out loud” and I’ve been thinking about it for a week now. The writer was on the losing end of cancer, third time battling the monster in three years; and didn’t have rage or any traces of anger at all . Just advice. Live out loud. Be you, don’t dull you down to fit into society. No one that’s a stand out in history has been dulled down; they were a shining star in the sky.
For me, this struck a chord. I have always had this loudness, this vibrancy inside me; but have always held back and tried to be less loud. Partly because...being an overweight woman, I’ve felt that I already stand out. I’m not a plus sized gal that they put cute clothes on in a magazine and has killer legs...nope, not that kind of plus size. I am short, have the lower abdominal of someone who has had five kids and two were big weight gainers and c-sections. And, I’ve not taken care of the vessel I was given. And now, at 40...it sucks to start trying hard to get the body I had at 17 back . Not thin but more able to do everything I’d like to do with my body. More willing to do “loud” things and wear the above mid thigh cut off jean shorts. The no knee fat girl who could wear a swimsuit only semi self consciously. Who laid out to tan. Who dyed her hair blonde blonde and didn’t think about what who thought.
This woman...she worries a lot. About a lot. I’ve recently added college to my life, and that is tough. I don’t have the focus I had last time I went to college. Yup, I’ve tried a few times and gave up a few times due to various reasons. Some were legit, others I thought were legit but thinking now we’re just outs when life was tough. And life has been tough the past four months. My partner had cancer and went through chemotherapy. He was sick, he was tired; and I tried my best to pick up any slack I could so he could rest as much as possible. My mom got really sick again in January and had slot of health problems again, and she decided to do comfort care only hospice on February 2and passed February 9. For that week, she never spoke or ate or moved on her own; and it was awful. I just wanted to have a conversation. About her and me and what she wanted me to tell her grandkids that I didn’t know . I wanted to hear “I love you” one more time. It’s been two months and it feels like an eternity. I’m the same age now that she was when she became a grandma. I miss her arguing with me. I missed her calling me on my birthday and singing me happy birthday. I miss my children having her. My grandma misses her more than anyone I am sure. She’s lost all four of her children in the last five years. Not sure how she smiles still. I can’t imagine.
