Stoutpup

A lot of things happened here at Stoutpup last week. A few days before we embarked on our trip to Wyoming and before the loss of our beloved Mazzy, I was also laid off from my job. I wish I could say it was for something exciting like getting dooced but I don’t write about work because that’s not the kind of blog this is. Work doesn’t deserve a spot on the fun pages of Stoutpup.

Anyway, today is my second day of unemployment - my first day was spent having lunch and drinking pinot gris at my mother’s house and then meeting my father for dinner in the evening. I felt lucky that I got to see both my parents on the same day - that hasn’t happened since my brother’s wedding four years ago. At dinner dad told Corey and I that he felt lucky about his recent bicycle accident in which he was struck by a vehicle and sent to the hospital unconscious. How could that be lucky? most people would ask.

Dad said he felt lucky because the truck that hit him, struck his rear tire and not his body side - on. He felt lucky the truck came two seconds later than it could have sparing him serious injury or death. I hate thinking too much about this, but I will say that my dad’s words resonated with me because all week long I had been thinking how lucky I was, despite the job and dear old Mazzygirl.

Being back home in Cheyenne during the most difficult time I’ve had in 10 years made things bearable. I was so lucky to be surrounded by my immediate and extended family all in one place for 4 days. I was so lucky to be immersed in such love and kindness, forgiveness and comfort at a time when I could have been under the covers crying my eyes out for days, cursing life. I was lucky to dance and laugh the night away with my sister at my cousin’s wedding instead of drinking myself silly in my apartment from sadness. More than once through this trip I thought to myself, we are so damn lucky we sold that house in Tacoma in the worst housing market because now we’re not stuck in a town that has no job opportunities for art and media. We are so lucky to live in the best city in the Pacific Northwest. And I haven’t stopped thinking about how lucky I am to have grown up with my cousins three blocks away where I have lasting memories and strong bonds, even after 16 years of not returning home. And how lucky I am to have grown up with grandparents and aunts and uncles around me. That doesn’t happen for kids as often as it used to.

This week, though an end to an era in some respects, has also spawned new beginnings. A new marriage for my cousin and family, rekindled family bonds, and a new life for me. I vow to not let life pass me by anymore, and to focus on the things that matter, family, friends, love, and enjoying my time here on earth.

So today I took myself to the Seattle Art Museum - something I never seem to have time to do. I chronicled it in these photos. I saw the Impressionism exhibit I’d been dying to see. Job schmob — I’ll do that next week. It brought me back to my art school days and it was another good familiar feeling, but being carefree out on the town I was also filled a very inspirational exciting feeling. The type of feeling you get as a fifth grader when you know that you might run into you know who at lunchtime or in the hall. Just maybe something exciting is waiting around the corner…