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