the real me

Scott and I have been very busy in the month of July. We started out the month with a big step in our new relationship. Scott moved in with me. He sold some of these things, and stored the rest. Together we moved him in. It happened sooner than I expected, but it would have happened eventually. There was some stress on my part, because some of my things I had to part with too. Plus I physically had to make room for him in my apartment, in my closets and in my life. I packed away old pictures and cleared out drawers for him to take up space in our new home together. Lord knows I had held on to some things way longer than I should have. Once we got him moved in, the reality sank in quick. Scott was feeling like it was not his home. We had both made sacrifices to join our lives. But why would he feel this way. He was exactly what I needed in my life. He is the only man I wanted to share my life with. I kept saying that to him, but was I show it in my actions. After a few strained days, we finally were able to work things out. I told him that I would have gladly moved in with him if the table had turned. I also could empathize with feeling out of place and like you are living in some one else’s home. I had those similar feeling back in 2000 when I came to live with my last partner. I wanted to do whatever I could to make Scott feel that he is my equal partner and the home we have is ours together now. I think that is part of loving each other. It made me so happy to see him display some of his family items in our home. I need to let go of my need to coordinate everything. I was so used to trying to “hold” my life together and make things work. I had forgotten what it is like to let someone else offer suggestions, or a better way of doing things. The first few weeks of living together I ran the kitchen, I did the house work and I handled the bills and such. I needed to stop treating him like a guest and more like my partner. I let him cook. I found it hard to resist the need to check the food cooking on the stove. Instead I would wander into the kitchen, peek at the stove and steal a kiss as I left the room. Obviously he is a good cook, he impressed me the first time I had d inner at his house. He knows the way to a man’s heart. I just need to leave him alone and let him cook. I still do most of the laundry at home. Actually, It is the one thing I enjoy doing. I don’t mind doing it. And I am sure Scott would handle it if it needed to be done. Scott and I have also been able to do some things together that once seemed like luxuries to me. I am not sure if he understands what it was like for me over the past few years. I got used to buying only what I needed, counting my pennies and juggling bills in order to survive. I was lucky to have support of friends when times were really tough and often relied on my sewing skills in order to make some extra cash when needed. We spent the day at the Fort Worth Zoo. That was fun. But all the walking always gets to me. I am not as young as I claim to be. But the weather was comfortable that day and I always enjoy being with Scott. Sometimes it is nice to get lost in your adventures. I wish there were a service that would bring your car to the end of the Zoo. They should bring your car up to the front after your hike through the Zoo. Scott and I also traveled to Oklahoma City to spend the weekend with my family. That was a great weekend. I had not seen my family in four months. We took my sister and her family to see a Historic Mansion. The Overholster Mansion in Oklahoma City is a 20-room, brick-and-stone Victorian mansion was built lies in Heritage Hills District. It was built in 1903 and passed through the family until it was transferred to David Perry, the husband of Overholser's daughter, after her death. In the 1970s, the mansion was donated to the state and is currently maintained by Preservation Oklahoma through an agreement with the Oklahoma Historical Society. It is a museum and historical home all in one. It was some place we could all go as a family and learn about the history of OKC. My nieces had a great time. Scott and I both love antiques and such, so being able to introduce the girls to something new was awesome. We also had lunch and all went to the movies. They loved Scott and he fit right in. I only had to playfully scold him once for talking about boys with my 12 year old niece. By the time we left, they were calling him Uncle Scott. We even took a day trip to my home town of Electra. I wanted to go, but was nervous about what Scott might think of me. I had not been there in over ten years. And have not lived there in 20 years. I knew that the house my parents once owned was gone. It was condemned and the property was seized by the city in lieu of back taxes. The property was then sold at auction and now belongs to a local man. It is an empty lot now with the remains of sidewalks like islands in the grass. Most of the large trees are now stumps. The large cedar tree along the front walk are all that remain of the front yard. The entire town is in poor shape. I drove and narrated to Scott, stories of my parents and childhood. I showed him the school I attended, the building that was once Paul’s market and told him about what it was like growing up in such a sad place. I noticed how dry and brown everything looked. I also noticed how narrow the streets were and made mention about how odd it was to see streets with now curbs or neighborhoods with no sidewalks. I shared stories about how we used to walk from out house to down town or across town to the city pool. My mam would give my sister five dollars and tell us to put on flip flops and walk to the pool. She would also tell us to make sure we were dry by the time we got home and don’t sit on her furniture if we were wet. Memories like that happened every summer. I wanted to share with Scott a piece of who I really am. Maybe by seeing how I grew up, he would understand why I act, say and do thing I do. And why holding on to things are important to someone who grew up with nothing. I felt I needed to go there. I sometimes feel like I am still that little Mexican kid, trying to get out of the shadow of that small town. I was feeling a lot of emotions that day, but I only cried once. When I drove out the cemetery, the place my Dad dropped us off and made us walk home in the dark. The dirt roads are just as I remember them. Parallel tracks with grass growing in the middle. Only this time it was daylight and not dark.