December is always the coldest month for me. My mother's birthday, Roxanne's birthday, and Christmas fall within the span of a week. Add to this the nomal confusion and chaos of holiday time in broadcasting, then factor in the fact that I get eight hours a night of stories about people in love at Christmas time. It's a recipe for depression. So I get depressed. Then I get mad.
Roxanne was the angriest person I ever knew. It's part of what made me love her. She could not settle for being mildly upset at something. It had to be full tilt boogie, go to hell and stay there. Her birthday today would have sparked a rebellion. I expect that she would have said that world damn well better end on December 21, 2012, because there was no way in hell she was going to turn sixty the next day.
She's never far from my mind, but she seems more present than ever lately. One of the ironies of The Year Of Essentials is my discovery of how un-essential I am. Out of need, as she did, I have drawn more and more from the fires of my inner anger. I accept the things which have happened to me and around me, but much of what surrounds me disgusts me.
Today's lesson: I can only control a small part of my world, but, hey, you have to start somewhere. It's time that I pick up some of the spirit of anger... but more on that when the new year commences. For today, I just want to remind myself how much of who I am came from our shared experiences, and how far I've come in these days since being on my own.
Happy birthday, pila moya, It's not been an easy year for me, but it's not supposed to be easy, is it? I've learned how expendable I am. I have been reminded how fragile I am. It hurts. Yet it strengthens my resolve to grow. It may take me years to finish my job here. then again, it may be over tonight. I'll be just as glad either way, because my faith tells me to accept what is meant to be. Send me what strength you can, and I'll make it last as long as I need it.