I don’t function without a planner these days — a real one. Not a digital calendar. Not a click-and-drag interface. A paper planner I can scribble in, close dramatically, and come back to when I need a fresh start.
This week, it was either the planner or pure chaos.
Monday: Phone meetings. A store run. A deep-dive call with an HR consulting firm that had me sweating — not from policy stress, but from pricing. There’s no way. I can’t justify this expense. I’ll have to source it out online.
Tuesday: I went to see my dad. He’s still so awesome. We watched concerts on YouTube and debated which band did it better — “ya gotta watch that VH-1,” he says. That’s when we found out Ozzy died. Mom loved him. Loved the music, loved the mess of their reality show. We didn’t talk about it. It’s only been six weeks. I still haven’t seen the urn. I don’t need to.
What I do need? To keep worrying about him. Mom was his routine. His reason to get up and go. They were married for 60 years. Now she’s gone. His friends are mostly gone. My siblings and I are what’s left.
Friday: My girlfriend R came to visit. We went to the Kansas/.38 Special concert at the Ozarks Amphitheater — which I’ve officially decided is my favorite venue ever. That place has heart. And R? She’s one in a million. She can call you an asshole without technically saying the word — but she also doesn’t waste that kind of clarity on people who don’t matter. She’s a lifer. A truth-teller. The kind of friend who reminds you who you are when you’ve forgotten.
Saturday: I did the live morning ad on KTKS then puttered around the house. Felt guilty. Lance was at work. I was home. Guilt is a wasted emotion — I’ve said that my whole life. My mother taught me that.
(We’ll call that a Helenism — add it to the glossary.)
But I felt it anyway. The difference now? I don’t know why I can’t shake it. I used to be so in control of my emotions. Now I have no idea why I feel what I feel most of the time, or how to talk myself out of it. When did that happen?
Saturday night: The kids came. We walked around the new condo complex and threw rocks in the water. 7 told me before bed he really loves my biscuits and gravy — so naturally, I was up Sunday morning making them.
Sunday morning: Popcorn, Lilo & Stitch, video games. Waiting for Jetz Trampoline Park to open. I’m listening to Ozzy. Lance went to the store. Again.
This week wasn’t clean. Or productive. Or linear. But it was life.
Real, present, painful, grateful life.
#TheRealDeal #RebuiltFromTheLakeUp #WomenWhoBuild #GriefAndGrowth #PaperPlannerPeople #Helenisms #PopcornAndOzzy #GrandmaOnTheMove
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