Matisse and Me

I spent the afternoon with my sister, Trina. She offered to help me learn how to drive stick. My dad's car is a stick and considering I need an economical car as I commute beginning in the fall to my practicum, it makes sense to keep the car since my car is being held together with duct tape (literally).

Only killed the car a few times. One abusive looking black truck got up on my ass when I stalled out and of course honked and honked. "Go around!" Jeesh. He eventually did. Not sure if the driver was a 'he' but, it sure felt like it.

Anyway, got that done. Then, off to Goodwill. Trina is the only person on the planet that enjoys junkin like I do. Given the choice between an afternoon at a mall or an afternoon at a big ass Goodwill store, well, hands down, we'd go with the Goodwill. Paradise is looking at weird stuff, holding things up to one another and asking, "What the hell is THIS?" And, just taking our time, looking at doo dads.

Anyway, picture frames: no need to ever buy two things in this world for sure: picture frames and wicker baskets. I think they propagate in the back room at Goodwill. There is always a healthy stock of each. We found a few nifty frames and skipped the baskets. Our purchases included a huge matted and framed Henri Mattisse, you know, the one with the fish, anyway, that now hangs proudly in my livingroom.

Life has been hard for me lately. I won't get into the reasons why. Loss, change, concern are all intertwined and curling around me. The combo keeps me up at nights. So, a casual afternoon at Goodwill was just what the doctor ordered.

Back home, we ended up looking through stacks of framed pictures stored in the garage. Tears. Pictures of dad, or, things that reminded of us dad, are everywhere. I believe that a person successfully grieves when they can cry with someone who doesn't try to wipe the tears away.

And so, eventually, I was alone in the house. No kids. Just my $5.00 CD player and the soundtrack to 'Garden State'. Incense. A big ass Route 44 Diet Coke. I felt brave dusting off framed photos of my late husband, Gordon, too. He is smiling at me from his frame, as we speak. And, I can handle it.

My birthday is inching closer towards me. So many changes this year! Last year was, by all accounts one of the hardest of my entire life. But, it is amazing what things look like, with the proper frame