Give Me A Sign...High Enough

My life is weird.
Period.
It's been even more strange in the last few days.


 I spoke to one of my friends the other day about the way I see life. I told her, "We are all just like spiders, constantly going back and forth, leaving a trail behind us as we leave the people we meet and events we sometimes regret. As much as we try, we can't break the strands...it's all a part of the plan. There are times we look down at a small portion of our lives and think it's a horrible mess, but we just keep going.  Then one day we find the courage to go further out on the limb and look back to see a beautifully constructed web that is covered with the morning dew."

Listen to this song and remember the lyrics...

I think a lot of people find themselves defeated when it comes to their 'design'. They doubt their abilities to create something beautiful and just give up. It's a shame really, because all they need to do is climb a little bit higher and look down.

There were years I looked at the small patch of threads that surrounded the base of my feet and considered them the most poorly planned strings of events possible. But, because of my strange connections to music, a random phone call, and finally seeing the signs that told me which way to go next; I decided to follow my own advice and go a little "Higher"...and saw something beautiful.

My previous entry, "Loving A Musician...I Won't Give Up" was posted to this site on January, 21st...but I started writing it on January 20th.  I had spent the previous few days, buried in the depths of writing, ignoring my phone as I clicked away at the keyboard.  I listen to many genres, but Breaking Benjamin was on the top of the list. What can I say? I'm a fan. "Give Me A Sign" was one that received the heaviest of rotations.

Well, during my insane caffeine fueled week, I dis-regarded a phone call from my Dad. "It can wait", I thought.

 When I finally called him back he said, "I received a phone-call." in a very serious voice.
GULP...UH OH! That tone never meant anything good.
"A guy called one of my friends to try to track you down. He wants you to take his wedding pictures."

I got angry and said, "You know I haven't taken pictures for 5 years, Absolutely NOT!"

I remembered what had happened 5 years ago, the diagnosis, the hospitalization, the lawsuit I received WHILE I WAS IN THE HOSPITAL and the crumbling of my finances. SCREW THAT!

"NO!" I said.
"Jill...It's Scott."
"Who?" I didn't grasp the last name.
He said it again, and I felt a bolt of electricity through my body.

All of a sudden, I remembered the quirky little face of a young kid that used to annoy the crap out of me.
It was my best friend's little brother.  My best friend that passed away from cancer 21 years ago.

I saw her face for just a moment, and I said, "I'll think about it."
I hung up the phone after saying goodbye...and started to cry.

Wow, all of these years...and he found a way to get in touch with my Dad...The day he did was January, 20th 2014..

I called my Dad's friend today and said, "I'll do it. It's a one time deal...I'm still retired...and also tell him his sister paid it in full"

I sat there after getting off the phone thinking that it would be my way of letting go of the painful past of what MY disease did to me. It was time to bust down the walls of embarrassment and regret of how I wished things happened differently. I was an excellent photographer, but the tumors ended a great run of success.

I smiled. I was starting to climb a little higher...

This morning, I poured a cup of coffee and grabbed my High School Yearbook off the shelf. I sat down and opened it to a page that I hadn't viewed in almost twenty years. It was my first published works; a poem I had written the night my best friend passed away in 1993. As I read it back to myself, I pictured myself back in my bedroom, the yellow walls plastered with 90's Rock Bands illuminated by the lamp on the vanity table...I wrote it without it being my own words...but hers. I remembered the nights we used to lock her brother Scott out of the room while we blasted 90's Rock just to piss him off.  I smiled and remembered the song. It was one I couldn't listen to the last 20 years without crying.

I remembered how two weeks ago, my husband played the song from a 90's mix station over the sound system...I had to walk in the kitchen to hide my tears and wait for it to end.I never told him about the song and how it brought me back to those painful years. He felt terrible and apologized after coming into the room, seeing my red eyes.

Two weeks ago...I heard the song when I was in the proverbial trenches of writing the book.

Then, the events of the last two weeks occurred, symbolically telling me to climb higher and look down.

So I did...and it was...breathtaking.

I looked back at the book in my lap and I felt another wave of electricity through my body. I saw a date that I used to remember every year, but somehow after years of loving a Musician and being a mom...I had let it slip the past few years. January, 20th....If that isn't a sign...I don't know what is.

And then I went to the computer, put in my earbuds, loaded Damned Yankees-High Enough...and cranked it.

I didn't cry.

I could hear her laughing and pictured her wearing a Warrant tee-shirt...she got me good.

I laughed right back at her and said, "You were always a comedian."

 Get a little Higher, and your view will change.

Everything happens for a reason...and if you don't believe that...you haven't climbed 'High Enough'.

Love, Respect, and Support
Jillian