Forgiveness.

I will always be lonely, I suppose. I am just like that.  I put myself into a world that is not sharable.  I delight in understanding something no one else could possibly fathom.  I love to exclude myself whenever possible...but even a non-conformist like me will have a moment every now and then that makes me want to be included, part of the pack, linked to the inner circle.  

And that's okay.  Isn't it?  It's okay to not always be the same, same, same.  My only consistency is that I am inconsistent, and I am proud of that.  I don't want to be the faceless crowd, I want to be the face of the lonely, the scorned, the proud, the humiliated, the forgotten woman, the remembered girl. I don't think I have split personalities (do I?), I just revel in the persona petri dishes of life where the climate is so sensitive, so full of laughter bordering on tears, where just one move, one way or another, could spell my demise ... or my success.  I really don't know why I like that sort of standing on the edge, because in 'real life,'  I'm a scaredy cat.  I'm scared of heights, elevators, close rooms, and people who never smoked...but most of all, I'm afraid of being normal.  

If I wanted to be normal, I would never have picked up the ukulele and embraced it like a long lost child of my own.  If I wanted to be normal, I would have never told people who were bigoted that they were hypocritical oafs.  If I wanted to be normal, I would not have chosen to sing in a church choir, participate in a volunteer ministry and still enjoy a fine scotch and big fat lobster every once in a while.  If I wanted to be normal, I would definitely have been asked to be born in another family, a family where a career centered in the arts -- whether it's writing or singing or playing --  is considered a career only a weirdo would choose.  (Cough...ex-in-laws...emphasis on the EX).   If I wanted to be normal, y'all, I would not be writing my thoughts down and hoping someone reads and cares about where I went today, who I saw, what I did.

Ryan Case & I - Tonight, You Belong to Me!

Today, I interviewed at a fine law firm in a gorgeous Victorian home downtown, all the duties seem to be in line with other duties I have had working for attorneys.  In other words, the work involves a lot of typing from dictation and steering clear of the Avon ladies and MaryKay nazis.  It will involve more of me not paying attention to my co-workers and giving my all to my boss, who is  the managing partner, the head honcho, if you will, of the entire firm.  And they all lived happily ever after, right?  lollyKimmy. 

This is a portrait of me by Madeline E.I think.

I'm enjoying the work I do now, though.  I have three jobs and they all involve the creative Kimmy.  As a writer, musician and actor-for-medicine, I am not a drone. I do not have regular wages, but I do love each job and I do put 100% of myself into writing, singing, playing and being a simulated patient.  I am at my best when I am asked to be creative and use the big part of my brain.  I am at my worst -- especially as I get older -- when I am asked to step in time, tow the line, look the other way, ignore gossip, and be uber-productive while I am at it, don't ya know?  So yes, I want a full time job, but I am not sure if I want to continue doing what I have done for most of my life. 
Why, you may ask (or not)?  It is because of a gift I gave myself last year.  It was Forgiveness.  I had no gift to bring at Christmastime, and so I simply talked myself into forgiving people who had been not so nice to me.  Some of them I had known my entire life, and some of them were ancillary antagonists.  I did not have to go and tell them I forgave them, either. I just had to forgive them in my heart, and lambchops, let me just say that once I truly allowed that to happen, my life was changed.  For the better.  I began to free up a lot of time I had spent commiserating about this beeotch or that asshole.  No, I didn't do away with the sharp tongue forever, but I did soften my heart toward those with whom I had previously been unforgiving.  

Thomas Family circa 1978

Me, Paula Schrecker & Allie Darden, 2 of the loveliest ladies I know

Forgiveness gave me a 2012 that needs forgiveness just for being a year.  2012 was a rough year, I lost my job, my brother, my apartment, my health, my finances.  I lost just about everything material that I have, but worst of all, my heart started to pout and got me in some trouble with doctors.  I did not cotton to their mention of medical terms I didn't want to hear, terms reserved for the aged.  However, when my brother was at death's door, my health was placed on the proverbial back burner.  I knew if I did nothing else in life, that I had to let Marshall know how very sorry I was to not have forgiven him for so long, that I loved him and to beg his forgiveness.  Although we made a painful trip to see him before he passed from this Life, the journey my sisters made with me was the most important one of our lives.  Mom and Dad died years ago, we never got to say a proper goodbye to our sister Becky, either, but we knew that Marshall's death would signal a change in everyone's level of emotional maturity. Marshall being sick and dying in a hospital bed was the most shocking sight I ever saw.  He couldn't speak because he tore all his tubing out once to get up and use the bathroom.  (This is where we can see through my little blog window that my family is filled with anything but normal people).  We knew we had to see him and let him know he was loved by his sisters.  I had to let him know I loved him.  So Karen, Kelli and I and Susannah Montana, my super-niece, got in a car and put it in R for Race, and left the state to see our brother in North Carolina before he took his last breath.  

That story is another series of blogs and I won't go into details, but suffice it to say, we met an angel, and saw a devil on that trip. During that trip, I laughed, I cried, and laughed until I cried, but not until I arranged for the doctor to order my brother his final beer, and I prayed.  

The role of Forgiveness in the months that followed can never be overstated.  It was Forgiveness that freed me up from being a victim into being a forgiver.  It was Forgiveness that kept me from crying over spilt milk and let me see that it is much better to do what you want to do versus doing what others want you to do.  And not only is it better, it is okay.  Okay?  I learned that sometimes you have to forgive the same sin over and over and over again.  

Kathy Hobbs gave me this dress, it's the costume for Rose in her production of Golden Girls

I also learned that Forgiveness means it's okay for me to be the best Kimmy I can be.  Once I gave up on finding Love, well, it looks like Love has been trying to find me all along. I just wasn't listening.  I was probably bitching about one thing or another.  Your foot? My back...

 Thomas Family at deSha's, March 2013

Now it is a year later, and I've had to make adjustments. For example, I had to do away with cable and learn to love MeTV.  While I miss Letterman and Spongebob, I yam very grateful for a friend like Ali, who welcomed me into her home.  She makes me mosaic hat boxes and feathery fascinators, is undoubtedly one of the most gifted artists I know, and she can make a helluva dinner with just pasta, mayo and curry.  Here in the upper room of her house I sit, in my new apartment, safely tucked far away from the peeping toms and creepy neighbors I endured in my 5 years of living downtown.  The window up here faces the west, and most every night I take a moment to sit in the veriest corner of the room to watch the sun (always forgiving at the end of the day) settle into Its vermillion boots.  

One of these days, I'm going get me some of them red boots.  Until then, thanks for reading all of this and for not thinking ill of me for my mental wanderings.

peace, y'all,
Kimmy

Me and Josh