44 - A Letter to Myself

 44, huh… 

It’s been a pretty incredible life so far. Some of the most beautiful highs that a life has to offer, and some of the hardest lows that I pray I never have to see again.

This last year though, shoot, the last 4 years if I am being honest, those have left some marks. Some emotional scars that I am still healing from; that I’m trying to mold into the smirks and room lighting smiles that I hold close to my heart, into love.

But first, let me thank you for fighting you way out and being an amazing advocate for your own mental health. Giiiiirl, those signs are hard to see and those steps are steep to climb, but you did. You SO did, and here we are today, more ourself than maybe we ever have been. (A special thank you to my rocks, actually you’re more like boulders who supported me to taking those steps)

Maybe that’s why a lot of the last two years have hurt so deeply; you finally learned to not run from your pain, the grief that used to swallow you whole. You dug your feet deep into the sand and stayed to face storm after storm. 

So today is deep breath day. Deep, thankful, cleansing rebirth, breath day where we slowly breathe out all of that hurt, and breathe in every single memory that keeps us warm and makes us smile.

44, and this is the year! 

Soon we will be basking in the velvet seas of Mexico, sharing in beautiful groove after groove, smiling until our face hurts.

Then off to Italy, the YOLO trip of a lifetime. (Seriously do not wake me from that simulation)

If 19 year old Tatum knew what open possibilities there were for her in this world, she may have been a little less angry, less bitter. I’m grateful for 30 year old Tatum who helped smooth those splintered corners and harsh surfaces, thankful for 40 year old Tatum who told us all to get our sh!t together because we know more than most, just how fleeting life is.

I look back, and I recognize every decade of my self. I remember every growing pain and every sweet lush grassy field on the other side of it and I do not plan on stopping.

So lady, here’s to 44. May she teach you the grace we are going to need when 44 becomes 50.

To all of you in my life, some near, but mostly far, my life is full and beautiful because you are in it. These experiences I have had, have never been alone; you have never let me feel alone. Not much gets better than that. 

So feel free to celebrate my birthday today, smile at a stranger, check in on a loved one, adopt an elderly cat, send random things in the mail to someone you miss(my go to move lol) - and thank you for being part of my world. 

Untitled Grief

 I have been watching my best friend die for the better part of the last year and a half. Watching her grow painfully thin, noticing her sleeping more, playing less and age greatly in front of my eyes.

My four legged sidekick of the past 18 years has hyperthyroidism, the medication that we give her for it, has given her renal disease and is destroying her kidneys.

I’m fighting a wildfire with lighter fluid and most days I don’t know what I’m even doing. 

Delilah Jones came into my life at a peculiar time. I was in my twenties, living in NH with two cats and not looking for a 3rd.

This runt of the litter found me, burrowed into my heart, connected her life force to my soul, and we never looked back. 

She was born in NH, lived in several towns in Mass, two towns (3 homes) in NJ, rode in a tiny little VW Golf all the way from Boston to San Francisco and continued her 9 lives in the city of Neverland for 5 years, to San Jose, then after an excruciating 9 hours in the VW Tiguan she lived a short stint in La Jolla to finally what we assume her final resting place is in our little home by the ocean in San Diego.

My little soul mate has not only traveled everywhere with me, but has lived through the absolute most difficult times of my life. 

   She also has been there for the most joyfully abundant and full of love times that I have experienced. 

Somewhere along our path she met Andrew, and for some reason she connected to him quickly. I’m not sure if she sensed my own feelings or just knew how special he is- but every time he would walk down into my room she would greet him, on my ugly pink office chair from ikea, perched up on her hind legs meowing for his attention (I feel that girlfriend) waiting for him to scratch her forehead and give her love.

This continued on until they became roommates and he was the 3rd wheel in our cozy bed. 

Later it evolved into her taking his meetings sitting on his shoulders licking his head as his coworkers tried to keep a straight face.

My girl always has always been the little attention lover.

We watch her sleep a lot these days.

A lot.

And while I watch her, I spend my quiet moments remembering her quirks, her loud raspy meows that we don’t hear much anymore….. how she loved to be snuggled but you got the 4 paw stiff arm if you picked her up. 

Her terms only…. I feel that too, love. 

The strong will to set boundaries, but also be open hearted.

Man that just defines my girl.

In 2013 I married my best friend, but my soul mate has 4 paws, brown fur, white paws, and the most gorgeous green eyes I have ever wandered into. 

I’m not sure if these ramblings are a tribute, grief… 

if it’s the words to the tears that fall down my face daily these days….

If you know me, if you know her then you get it. You know.

She’s such a beautiful soul that she’s turned cat haters into people who have loved her, dearly. 

Delilah Jones, her name from a Dead tune that’s always spoken to me…. Being a brown eyed woman, and all.

She has lived a legendary life. 

Queen bee of her home, )wherever it was, whoever home was….)

Master of sand paper kisses

Bard of raspy meows

Taster of all snacks

Chewer of stray fingers

Holder of hands, owner of my heart.

I am just not ready for you to go, but I can’t bear to make you stay….

They say grief is just love with no where to go, and I’m just not prepared to grieve forever

The Bleeding Heart

My heart hurts.

My heart hurts for so much happening around the globe and in our country. 

It hurts for the hate and bigotry and unnecessary loss of life. 

The unfathomable fear that humans live in every day just because their skin is a darker shade, and their murderers are taught that it’s ok to take their precious life.

I am livid that this continues and we can’t seem to put a stop to it, and I deeply weep for families who mourn these tragic losses. 

My heart hurts for our country, our government refused to take proper precautions to hinder the quick spread of a virus, because the bottom line is always money.

It breaks for the needless loss of life, and fear that lives inside each of us during this unprecedented pandemic. 

My heart aches for pieces of the life I once knew, bear hugs from my family, and belly laughter with my humans. 

I ache to live and thrive, while we are stuck in the limbo of survival....

There are too many questions and not enough answers. 

Too much pain and not enough love.

Too much hate and not enough compassion. 

...it’s just too much and my heart, right now, just hurts.... 

Self Care and 40's

Last year I turned 40, which seemed like a silly joke, like "hey I'm 40, how the heck did this happen??"

This year I turned 41 and I am not laughing.
My mother was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer at 45, and lost her battle at 50- so the years are looming and I live in fear of these numbers.
I am SO not laughing.

I had a very hard winter, I had a breakdown and was diagnosed with panic disorder and severe anxiety. I thought that I would never feel like me again.
Fear had taken over, and that fearless girl who had always lived inside me seemed to slip away.
I may have been diagnosed last winter but I have been living with severe anxiety and panic for a number of years, to the point that I stopped driving.
I still don't drive, but that is a personal goal this year. We'll see how that goes.

I have been disappointed in myself for a long time, letting fear take over and rule how I live my life... this was certainly not how I was raised by 3 of the strongest people I have ever known. I had lost my independence. Life was dark, and all I could do was reach out to my rocks for the support that I couldn't give myself.
...and let me tell you, those rocks, those wonderfully unconditionally loving human beings saved me over and over and over, and still do every day. I am so lucky.

So, once diagnosed, I started on a path to find myself again. Which is what I think the meaning of life is, finding yourself over and over, because we really don't ever stay the same through all of life's ups and downs, do we?
I made a promise to myself this year, in 2020 that I would take care of myself the way I take care of those that I love. It's not something I am good at, taking care of me- I'm needy, I have some heavy baggage stuffed full of trauma and most of it (almost all of it) I prefer not to remember. However, my mind, and body have had enough of my avoidance so here I am...spilling my findings into this silly little blog that is always here when I need it.

Truth- I NEVER knew how important self care was. Like ever. So here I am teaching myself that life isn't about work and housework, and running yourself into the ground tired with "To Do lists".
I believe my anxiety is at her most active when I am idle, so I list all the things that I "should" do and I just do...until I fall asleep.
Yesterday I tossed the "to do's" aside and packed a little cooler for Andrew and I to spend a few hours at our pool. It was DELIGHTFUL. I laid in the sun (with 50 sunscreen and a hat) and read, I sat in the pool and let the warmth wash over me, while the water lapped at my exhausted body. Then I made dinner and we watched a movie.
Self Care:sometimes it means a day of things that bring you joy.

Today I got up, had my tea (apparently panic disorder and coffee doesn't mix, yeah I feel bad for me too) and made the decision to go down to the gym.
Now let me be clear, I could count on 1 hand how many times that I have been to the gym in the last 10 years. I am not a gym girl. I am a "housework is my therapy" girl. But something in my mind said "you need this, you're 41 and we aren't bouncing back like we used to" so I did it.
I wasn't there long, but I was there.
I showed up for myself and that's also not something that I normally do...but its now something that I will continue to do because I am worth caring for.

To The Boy Who Saved Me

I write a lot about my past, my pain, my growth and lots of random things between, yet don’t think I have taken a minute to write about the boy who saved my life.

It was the summer of 2006 when I met the guy of my dreams, I just didn’t know it yet. 

We had a quick introduction at a music festival, then I skipped off on my merry little way and didn’t think about it again until we ran into each other the following winter at an indoor music event in Western Mass. I can still remember the electricity....really though, I had no idea.

Our paths crossed many times in the following months, and each time I was more drawn to him. His energy, his smile.... his unbearable sarcastic sense of humor, and obviously his music.

In the midst of all the criss crossing we’d become close friends-phone calls, texting, myspace posts (you heard me, I'm old shut up)

....we had become so close that when my mom took a turn for the worst, he was my rock when I thought I would float away on my tears of grief. 

Stonehenge 2007

There’s something so pure and beautiful about a relationship that begins on a bedrock of friendship. I knew, long before I should have known, that I was hopeless for him. 

He was my friend. 

My trusted sounding board. 

A source of laughter and distraction when I needed it most. 

I should stop talking about all these emotions as though they’re in the past because he, to this day, is still all of those things, and so very much more. 

Most little girls dream about marrying their prince, I always dreamed about marrying my best friend.... and I did in 2013 on the most gorgeous day.

Life has thrown, well, basically everything at us. 

We lost our home, lived with both sets of our parents, then moved away from everyone and everything we ever knew, and started from scratch.... what made it bearable is that we did it together. 

I am stronger because of you.

I’m HAPPIER because of you.

I survived some incredibly hard times, because of you.

So happy birthday, my love. 

I am more thankful every single day, for you.

-Team Us-

Xoxo

Part of the Family

I spent the weekend, the long weekend, with my Mucci side of the family last week. We all got together, all million of us from all sides of the family.

We said goodbye to the greatest man any of us had ever had the pleasure of loving.
My grandfather.


I am an especially emotional person, always have been.
I feel deeply, I love deeply, I hurt deeply, and on top of my own feelings I am an empathizer to a fault- pile on everyone else's feelings and I am a mini basket case of raw emotion on a good day;
so when we said goodbye to the man who made the world make sense, I struggled.
I am still struggling.
I can honestly say I have wept every single day since I got the news that he had been freed from his mortal prison of Parkinson's.

I could write a book on my childhood, and why my grandfather is one of the reasons that I am still here, alive, and almost well adjusted today- but that's not why I sat down at my laptop with my giant cup of coffee allowing tears to stream down my face.

I want to talk about my family.

When I lost my mother 11 years ago, I remember one very specific thing that my sweet aunt said to me- it rings in my ears and sits on my shoulders and fills my heart on lonely days.
"I promised your mom that I wouldn't let you walk away from the family"
...promise kept.

That woman knew me well... she knows I spent my life running from uncomfortable situations.

After we lost her, I ran one last time.
Though not away from anything, I ran towards myself. I faced the scared emotional child and I began to love her.
Truthfully, my Aunt Brenda has always kept one hand on my shoulder... not letting me get too far away no matter where I live. She kept that promise and it has anchored me to this beautiful family that my Grandparents created.

Grandpa always said he didn't want a mournful funeral, he wanted joyful celebration.
We met him in the middle somewhere... we mourned.
It was HARD to say goodbye, he made every single one of us feel so special and important at times where many of us didn't feel important at all.... he found those of us who wandered and were lost, and he always had the perfect words to bring us back and never feel judged; but in those heartbreaking moments, we had each other. We SAW each other- it took a wife, child, grandchild of his, to understand how painful it was for us to let him go, how conflicted we felt that he was gone but also free of a disease that held him captive for far too long.

We had each other.

No, we  HAVE each other.


I believe he orchestrated it all, he looked down and saw his family and smiled... he smiled because he knew we have each other. He knew that through understanding each other, we need each other, and the reconnection of generations of family may help heal the gap this loss has left our family.


I sat with my grandmother at the viewings, and listened to people share their connection with my grandfather and our family.
More than one person said the words "he was my friend, he was my brother, he was my mentor" and also "what a joy it is to feel as though you're a part of the Mucci family".
One by one they came, they wept, they shared stories and paid respects. What a man he was, what a difference he made in so many lives.

So, to my mother, and my grandfather- I hope you're smiling as the silly texts are flying back and forth, and the plans for future trips are made. I hope you know that you both live, alive in my heart through this family of ours.

It's a funny thing being part of the Mucci family, no matter where we all are, when we're together it always seems to feel like home.

If you were here

I wonder, all the time, where I would be if you were still here.
Would I have run so far?
Would I have grown this much?
Would I have felt the same pain, and joy, and tasted life's bittersweet chocolate?

Would you have protected me, or held me back?
It was always so complicated, the lines of adulthood blurred for so many decades, the struggle for dominance, never clear.

You let me fly, only when you knew you may not be there, should I stay.
You wanted to prepared me for this life without you keeping me in line, reminding me... humility....

...and here I am, on your 61st birthday just wondering how different it all would have been.
Would it have been us against the world, instead of us against each other? We were so close to being there before the empire fell.
Maybe the universe wasn't ready for that amount of strength and power that we collectively held.

Still today I wonder, wonder where the road would have lead us, and would I feel so sad...
...yet so free.