Archive for February, 2011
Imagine a small tree that has survived a hurricane, but in the process of trying to hold stead to the roots it is loosing branches. . .leaves. . .colors. . .I am that little tree struggling to hold on as the eye of the storm passes right now.
Tick. . .tock. . .tick. . .tock.
Oh, clock slow down so I can catch my breath.
“Zzzzz. . .zzzzz. . .zzzzz”
Oh, phone stop reminding me I have text messages waiting.
Beautiful Detroit Tiger blue jacket, jump off that chair and hide yourself in my laundry. . .I don’t want to be reminded that this internship is stealing me away from a spring break with my closest friends.
USF deadline e-mail, please hide in my spam folder until I’m ready to finish sending in my packet. . .oh, and packet, hop into my backpack until I’m ready to go straighten you up.
Oh, cloud of ecstasy (also known as Bed), don’t tempt me to go to bed before 9:30 p.m. I always give in when you whisper my name after a long first half of the week. Oh, there you go looking so charming.
Tonight I am anti-social and exhausted. I have deactivated my Facebook. I have now just silenced my phone. I am taking a “Just for me” night. I have had a terrible week, but let’s be real, you don’t want to hear about my problems. You have your own. We all do. I won’t burden anyone but my God with my worries, because let’s face it my problems may be minuscule compared to yours. And, like Bella says, “This is just a moment in time.”
It is 4 am on Valentine’s Day and I am faced with the ending credits of “P.S. I Love You” and a silver bowl smeared with chocolate with a few kernels of popcorn at the bottom. The Starbucks Mocha Frappuccino carton is empty and sitting in my sink. I am depressed about Valentine’s Day. I never thought it was going to happen. Right after Christmas my favorite holiday is Valentine’s Day. I am addicted to the insane amount of red and pink at every store I walk into. . .even the gas station with its little display of an 8-count box in the shape of heart with chocolate. I love the absolutely ridiculous balloons with frogs declaring their love in big, bright letters. I enjoy the romantic movie marathons on every channel with the women between 18-40 demographic. . .except for today.
“There’s no color in life when you have love.”
Those words are not from a Hallmark card, nor are they from a child’s cartoon. Those words were said by Detroit Tigers legend Willie Horton at a press conference on Jan. 29 at Tiger Town.
As Horton reminisced about his early years as a baseball player with tears forming in his eyes, it was difficult holding back my own tears.
As I heard about the way he had to walk from downtown over to Tiger Town because he could not ride in a “white” taxi I marveled at the fact that I had just taken a ride down to Tiger Town for the Press Conference with a colleague who was not my same skin color.
I glanced around the room and realized that just sixty years ago standing in a room full of blacks, whites and Hispanics who were gathered for a press conference for a celebration would have been non-existent.
And, here I am again. . .just shy of 4 a.m. and I can’t go back to sleep. It probably doesn’t help the soldier just left in the rain.
It was nothing short of an amazing 72 hours. Friday was rewarding. Saturday was relaxing. Sunday was another milestone for the soldier and me.