'Tis the Season?

I am having lots of trouble getting into the spirit of the season of Thanksgiving, love, and togetherness.  I suppose that it would have something to do with my ex-fiancee leaving me a "Dear John" letter and packing up all of the belongings while I was at work last month, leaving me with about $3,000 in bills to pay by myself.  Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I do not have a family of my own with which to celebrate.  It could even be the fact that too much favoritism rears its ugly head in the form of gift-giving.  My family and future have been broken, and I feel like little has been accomplished this year.

Then there is the opposite side of the coin.  I have a home, a loving mother, a relatively stress-less job teaching bright, enthusiastic students.  I earned my teaching license (which I just received in the mail!).  My niece will soon be born, and my graduate school has been put on hold.  These are all blessings which I really took for granted until last year when I taught students who were homeless and had very little but that which they made for themselves.  If I look at my problems, they seem very minute in comparison.

So, for this season of giving and merry-making, I encourage each of you to look to those examples of those with less.  Enjoy the little amount of time left with our loved ones this year, put aside pettiness.  As Anne of Green Gables says, "Tomorrow is always fresh with no mistakes in it."  So let's make that our goals and aspirations for next year.  I am going to enjoy what I have and try not to dwell in the land of negativity next year.  And who knows...maybe this year it will stick!

Homecoming Hullabaloo

Tomorrow I set out for my excursion to New Orleans for the first time in 4 years.  I have to admit that I am very excited about venturing once more to The City Beneath the Sea.  You, see, although I was not raised there, I am a New Orleanian through and through.  I dream in purple, green, and gold.  I bathe in the Mississippi.  I crave bread pudding and king cake.  I dance to the zydeco music playing in my head.  You get the picture...  The fact is that I wanted to get away from North Carolina (where I never really belonged) for college, and I landed in the City that Care Forgot.  Home, sweet home, at last.

I lived in New Orleans throughout college, and when I got sick, I returned there hoping that the hot, humid weather of the city I loved would heal me.  My adopted Jewish family took me in with wide arms once again (no longer referring to me as a Shabbos Goy) and I was steeped in love, wisdom, spirit, and the laissez faire attitude that one can find only in New Orleans.  Unfortunately, my little dream ended with a hurricane named Katrina.  Although I had ventured back to North Carolina only to finish my education, my home was in New Orleans.  However, it both burned and flooded in the hurricane to end all hurricanes.  My family was displaced for a year, and I have only been back a handful of times since.

Tomorrow will be the first time back in 4, count them four, years.  And it is not to see the remains of my devastated home, but a rather jubilant affair: the Bar Mitzvah of the younger boy of my adopted Jewish family.  So, my homecoming will be in the form of tears and revelry.  It is weird (and eye opening!) to know that a child whom you are old enough to have had yourself is now becoming an adult!

Although I will only be there for about 3 days, I plan to suck the marrow out of that city.  I will take tons of pictures, baptize myself in the splendor of the occasion, shop until my feet are sore, kiss my family until my lips hurt, eat until I have had my fill (soul and stomach), and basque in the glory of the city I love.  I will take every bit of lagniappe that I can get and make it into a collage that only an artist can truly appreciate.

Home is calling, and I am coming... if only for a little while.  Sometimes you need to go home again, just to feel that you are connected to something greater than yourself.  And New Orleans...she is certainly great.

No Love Lost?

Lately, I have been singing a song of a different color.  No, not the ones like Alanis Morrisette or Melissa Etheridge after having kids, but a different tune all the same.  My sister says that I am finally coming back to life, but I believe that she is wrong.  I was never gone; I was just inside my cocoon.  I am loosing weight, gaining energy, and looking to make up for all the time that I lost being sick.
After my recent vacation from the world, I met a man that seemingly needs me as much as I need him.  We are kindred spirits who share many of the same life views and interests.  I do believe, along with my family that he is a reason for my revival.  I finally figured out the other day, while running errands for him or making sure that something was done for him, that he gives me purpose.  Life can be pretty lonely when no one needs you or wants you.  What reason do we have for getting out of our bed if all we have to do is take care of our own daily needs.  Routines are rote and there is no purpose in life when you are not accountable to anybody for anything.  While I am not sure if any of my love is returned, I need to give it in order to feel fulfilled.  Taking care of another gives me a reason for showering, making healthy meals, and pursuing a life beyond what I am used to living.
Meanwhile, the well of my soul is slowly being depleted and there is nothing to fill up the void.  Is there a point in an adult friendship where you can ask that more be given?  This has happened before in past relationships where I was dependent upon another person, but I have never been the one to ask for more for me.  How do I fill this well that once overflowed with need for love?  Now that I am needed, I keep pressing to get things done and they happen.  So, the question must be asked if being needed is all one needs to feel loved, wanted, and appreciated.  Am I getting the love that I need and desire?  Does this well become empty?  And is it appropriate for me to ask for love and appreciation in return?
If I am being filled with love and desire from another person, is that what it means to be loved?  Am I fulfilling my own needs by fulfilling his?  And does a friend need validation?  I feel that I am stuck in a perpetual state of youth.  I am stuck at 22 while my mind and soul are very old indeed.  I wonder if there are truly healthy relationships, and I wonder if they will ever exist for me.  Sometimes love is understood.  Other times, it needs to be said.  How do we know the difference?
I have loved, and I have lost, but if love is never requested, do we lose it in the first place?