Notes from the Red Bird House

In the past week, I've noticed something. Twice. Ok, it's not like it was some kind of revelation. No, on the contrary, I've seen it before, bemoaned it before. Maybe it's because the women in question are virtually my age. Maybe it's because I've found them both insanely attractive in the past. Maybe it's because I watched the movie and TV show they were featured in specifically because they were in the cast only to be disappointed. Not by anything even remotely related to their performances; they've always been good at what they do and still are. Sadly, I heard myself sigh as I shook my head ruefully. Man, that was totally unexpected. Though, in reality, that part is my fault. I probably should have seen it coming. What? Age? Come on, Stacee, you can't be that shallow. Hold on. I may be shallow but I'm not that shallow. There is nothing wrong with aging. Hell, I see it every time I look in the mirror. And, if I do say so myself, I'm bett...

I'm on the Express Train to fifty. For awhile I thought I was on a nice slow commuter. You know, the ones that stop every so often so people can get on and off? I dozed off and when I woke up, the scenery going by was a blur. It may be more than a year and a half away, but fifty is going to be here long before I'm truly ready for it and decisively ok with it. I've been faking that one, too. I keep telling myself and others that I'm almost fifty. It's not exactly a lie, but it's not entirely the truth either. I figure if I start believing that little-not-quite-a-white-lie now, it'll make actually being 50 more palatable. Or so I like to think. On March 26, 2019, I might curl up into the fetal position in a blanket fort and never emerge. Or I might run a half marathon. There's no way of knowing. I've been pretty can-do about aging thus far (if you can call the thirties and forties aging ) so safe money probably says I'll be sailing around the wo...

I am desperately in need of a new normal. Well, any normal really. With the flux and the change that has taken over my life in the last month, the old normal no longer applies. New is going to be mandatory whether I like it or not. We're all facing it down - me, my sister, my step-mother, my dad - so it's not like I'm alone.  I feel like a whiner, though, as I write this. If I am brutally honest with myself (and all of you by extension), my life is the least impacted. I can cry all I want, but in a few hours I'll be back in Austin where much of my life will remain the same as it's been - work, tennis, dogs, etc. Only my insides will have changed. I've seen my dad at his oldest and most helpless. I've witnessed his hallucinations and I've heard him implore 'them' go. I can't un-remember that.  We can argue that the kind of change I'm going through is difficult, but by comparison? I don't think so. My family will struggle harde...