Music Monday: Better Days

June is hard, y'all. My dad's birthday and my parent's wedding anniversary are both in June, and I'm still not far enough out that I can be certain that I WON'T burst into tears at the thought of either. On the good side, though, my Bryn turns 8 the day before my dad's birthday which is also Hubs's Welcome to the Thunderdome Day ie he officially began Life as a Permanent Resident in the US. I remember how pleased my dad was to "get a son-in-law" for his birthday...we'd been married for 2.5 years already, but the fact that Hubs now lived in the US was so important to both my parents. I really think they liked him better than they did me...or they were just glad that I wouldn't be whining about how much I missed him anymore. One or the other.
This song isn't from that era of my life, but it does speak to me about this very tumultuous month - as well as to my July Camp Nanowrimo project which sees two of my characters fight to find their way back to each other when they don't even know that together is where they were. Yep, vague, I know. 
They keep fighting the good fight as they always have but something is different. All they know is that maybe one day that weird awkwardness between them will fade, that strange longing for someone that they can't quite place will ease, and those all too familiar moments will finally make sense. Just a chance that maybe they'll find better days...


Better Daysby Goo Goo Dolls
And you asked me what I want this yearAnd I try to make this kind and clearJust a chance that maybe we'll find better days'Cause I don't need boxes wrapped in stringsAnd designer love and empty thingsJust a chance that maybe we'll find better days
So take these words and sing out loud'Cause everyone is forgiven now'Cause tonight's the night the world begins again
I need some place simple where we could liveAnd something only you can giveAnd that's faith and trust and peace while we're aliveAnd the one poor child who saved this worldAnd there's ten million more who probably couldIf we all just stopped and said a prayer for them
So take these words and sing out loud'Cause everyone is forgiven now'Cause tonight's the night the world begins again
I wish everyone was loved tonightAnd somehow stop this endless fightJust a chance that maybe we'll find better days
So take these words and sing out loud'Cause everyone is forgiven now'Cause tonight's the night the world begins again
'Cause tonight's the night the world begins again

The Anxiety of Grief, and Other Rabbit Holes

As found in the Great China Cabinet Clearout...

Before I go any further, let me address something in this post: SCORCH did not launch at the end of January. There was just too much going on to get that done. Please see this post and this one as well for more information on the too much going on in question. My wonderful final beta reader and I are meeting this week to look at final edits, and then it should go up for pre-order next week.

Now then, on to more threatened derailment of my schedule - the Great China Cabinet Clearout in advance of the New Hutch Installation. Currently, the hutch and table that were in my mother's condo are in a storage unit, waiting to come home to my house in place of the Incredible Hulking Kitchen Set which has served a need but now needs to go. My amazing friend Laze went with me to Atlanta two weeks ago to retrieve said hutch and table, and I'm ready to make the change.

I spent most of Saturday and a great deal of yesterday cleaning out the seven years' worth of STUFF that has accumulated in the china cabinet - most of which consisted of Things the Wolfhounds Cannot Have and excess dishes and mugs. I did find a few gems, though, like my mother's recipe for her Andes Candies knockoffs (that I LIVED ON when I was a kid), and the note pictured here. That note to Simon from my parents came with a gift of some sort to commemorate his arrival in the US on Daddy's birthday...one of the best and worst days of my life.

I picked him up from the airport in my nearly dead but still fabulous Volvo wagon, named Clive, and we headed up I-85 from the ATL to meet my parents, sister, brother in law, and niece to celebrate Daddy's birthday at a Red Lobster...somewhere. I honestly don't remember because the space in my brain dedicated to such things is filled with memories of Clive ceasing to operate while we were coasting in the left lane doing about 70mph. Poor Simon had been on a transatlantic flight, was dressed for the weather in the UK and not Georgia in June, and was generally exhausted. I was mortified and embarrassed and generally unsure of how we were going to afford to fix Clive or get a new car or, most importantly, get home. To Greenville. In South Carolina.

We got the car towed and were picked up and taken to the restaurant by my family. We ate. They asked Simon about his trip. We were tired and didn't want to be there if I'm honest. I remembered that feeling as though it was still happening as I read the date on the top of this note.

But this note, written in my mother's perfect handwriting, reminded me of how pleased they were to have their foreign son in law living in the same country. I thought of how many times over the past seven years that one or both of them made a point to tell me how much they loved Simon and how happy they were that he was here and we were close. And I thought of how many times I didn't make time to ride two hours over to Cleveland to see them, or two hours down to Atlanta to see them after Daddy got sick.

That knocked me for about two yesterday - the British expression "knocked me for six/eight" refers to being unable to do anything but be vertical for six/eight hours, generally due to exhaustion, here modified for the two hours when Simon was working in the yard and I was generally moping around the house and crying. But I'm happy that I found it and happy for the reminder that I am not the only one that lost them when they died.

I'm really happy that the china cabinet is now cleaned out and ready to be photographed and listed for sale, too. That rabbit hole was deep, and even though I re-lived the anxiety of Simon's arrival and the grief of losing Mom and Dad again, I can't deny the happiness of accomplishment.

Now if I can just get SCORCH up and away...