I've always thought of myself as someone who thinks toward the future. Always preparing for what is next and how to make the transition to what is next easier, but lately I've spent a considerable amount of time in the past. I think having surgery and being immobile for so long probably has a lot to do with this. Only natural right?
I like blog writing because it presents not only as a journal, but a point in time to reflect on multiple timelines at once. Usually this type of intersection point happens for me after moments of clarity or moments of stress.
I went back to work this week and everyday about 5-6 hours into it I would dive off into oblivion. I've been coming home just to crash. One day I came home and went to sleep at 4pm and only briefly woke up before my 4:45 alarm. Its been a little trying to say the least.
I like being able to blog my current thought and display how my brain functions. It isn't always on a continuous timeline. My inner dialogue likes to skip between my timelines. The current version in my head often gets interrupted with sparks of memories from the childhood version of myself. If I were ever to illustrate it in a book I would draw a library of endless books and staircases. The current version of myself is the librarian who pretty much knows where everything is and is in the drives seat for all the thoughts and memories that get processed through me. She encounters everyone as soon as they are introduced to me and categories the interaction she has with them into a section, book, page, and paragraph. Sometimes these people get put into the archives after they have fled out of my life. Sometimes she puts them in temporary lost and found because she hasn't decided where they go. There are several book gophers who pull out books of memories or boxes of things that need to be remembered. These are the younger versions of myself. Each book gopher has a particular section in this massive library that they are in charge of. My six year old self has the sixth floor filled with children's books about my life. I wanted to be Whitney Houston, but also a carpenter in real life.My tenth floor is filled with imagery of biological sciences. Some of these books started to become more adult like with books about divorce and psychology as my best friend's parents were going through a divorce. The fourteenth through seventeenth floor are painted gray. Each floor has a book on poverty and socioeconomic status.
I spend a lot of my mind thinking about poverty. I'm pretty stuck on the whole inequality system. Its something I can't really get over or get passed. Some people think that this may be a major hang up, but those people who think that obviously have never been there. So much of relationship building between people relies on money and life experience based on money and it isn't something I've spent a lot of time thinking about until lately. People who get a long typically come from shared thoughts on issues, which usually comes from similar family values and shared experiences. It all relates back to money.
I had this summer friend once, Carrie. I would only see her occasionally in the summer as she spent the summer with her dad and the year with her mom a state away in the city. Her sister was great friends with my parents and thought we would be great together as Carrie needed a friend during her stays here. Her and I were from very different backgrounds as she pointed out to me one summer night. Her family lived in a rather large house in the country with four wheelers and nice things. She always had new clothes and freedom to roam wherever she wanted at the age of 12. Contrarily, I did not. We lived in an always under construction trailer with no luxuries. One summer I thought it was so cool to be visiting a new friend and enjoy all the luxuries her family had to offer. The thing that stuck out for me the most was how cold her house was in the summer. I couldn't believe that there were people who used blankets in the summer. Her step mother had made a pallet for us in the living room and had given us ice cream. I remember waking up in the middle of the night thinking how do these people keep it so cold in here as I was shivering. My friend laughed at me when I made a comment about it.
That day we had also gotten undressed to bathe that night and she commented on the bra that I was wearing. I was so proud of that thing because it was one of the first adult bras I'd ever owned (I was 12). I was so grown up, but at the time I had bought it (I saved up money for it and got it on clearance) I had no idea how sizing worked. I had bought a 38A bra from walmart and after a day of wearing it realized it was really too loose for the 'support' I needed (In all reality I was probably a 28AAA lol) I had safety pinned it a time and a half around myself, but still wore it because I felt so grown up. She laughed it and told me I really needed to throw it away because it was safety pinned.
I remember being anxious about spending the night at her house because I'd really never been to a sleepover that wasn't for family. I remember being nervous that I was eating too much of their food or using too many of their resources or generally being in the way of her parents. I thought about that a lot as a kid. I remember taking a bath at her house and only running about an inch or two of water in her tub as to not 'run up their water bill'. Thinking about these events now makes me laugh at my incessant worrying and also makes me feel sad.
The next night she wanted to come over to my house to see where I lived. I remember sitting on our porch swing and her talking about how different our lives were. She had boyfriends in the city and was on a competing cheer leading squad and had activities and a life that went above and beyond anything I ever did. That night she had forgotten some of her overnight clothes and had to borrow some of my underwear. I didn't think anything of it because my younger sister and I had one underwear drawer our whole lives until after puberty. She was taken back by wearing someone else's underwear and commented on their white granny nature. She rolled them down to match her usual bikini style. That night we had a pallet in the floor next to my sisters bottom bunk and my mom propped a fan in our bedroom door like she did every night. I remember laying there beside her while she commented on how different our families were as her family liked everything to be really cold and my family slept in a furnace. she kept asking me why it was so hot and why my parents let it get so hot. I guess then she didn't realize that my parents didn't have an air conditioner that year and when we finally did get a window unit, it only came on a few days in August. Those few days in August all of my siblings would sleep in the living room together as we had quilts hung in the doorways so we could keep the cool in there and let the rest of the house stay hot.
Thinking about this weekend encounter makes me hurt for those still going through those times. It also makes me feel grateful for financial security and that my boys won't ever have to go through that.
Speaking of air conditioners.
I once remember going up the street to my best friends house and actively looking for her air conditioner. I didn't realize that central heating and air was a thing. I thought only window air units existed. I didn't find it, so pondering to myself that night I decided her mom must keep it hidden in her bedroom closet as I'd never been in there before. ;)