Me

My kitchen's a mess.

There are empty plastic bags on the table surrounding the tablet on which I'm writing this post.

There are dishes in my sink, trash that needs to be taken out, and an empty heineken light bottle that has yet to be rinsed, dried, and put in the recycling bin.

It's 9:39 a.m. and I woke up 10 minutes ago.

That is extremely late for me.

You see, I'm an early bird.  Before I had my daughter, I was in bed no later than 9:30 p.m. each night.

I'd wake up around 6:00 a.m. every morning, jump out of bed and be ready to face the world within minutes.

But things are different now.  Instead of waking up at 6:00 a.m., washing my hands and immediately tackling this kitchen; putting away the plastic bags, wiping down the table with disinfectant wipes, doing the dishes, taking out the trash, putting away the unopened bottles of Newman's Own marina sauce, and Open Nature peanut butter, I'm sitting on my ass talking to you.

I am 42 years old, a mom, a daughter, a sister, a friend and although school doesn't actually start until next week, I'm already room representative for my daughter's classroom.  And I am SO proud to wear all of those titles but the problem is...I'm not much else.

Lorenzo was the love of my life.  When he got into the fire academy I took on a new role: helpmeet.  On the days he forgot part of his uniform at home, I'd ride the train an hour downtown and bring it to him.  And on the evenings when he came home to us, exhausted from having to run up and down stairs while hoisting 50 pounds of equipment on his back, I kept Amira quietly occupied so Daddy could get his rest.   Lorenzo fulfilling this dream was our number one priority and the day he graduated was one of the proudest of our lives.  Amira and I became the Earth to his Sun, revolving around his schedule, basking in the warmth of his attention on his days off.

It didn't take me very long to forget I'd ever had dreams of my own, until one day, while driving home from Best Buy, Lorenzo took my phone out of my hand and threw it in the backseat.

"You don't need that to take pictures of Maggie's wedding" he'd said in response to my indignation.  "You can use this instead."  And then, from under his seat, he pulled out a box and handed it to me.  A brand new tablet.  "Dude asked if I wanted to get this insured and I was like, 'hell no!' before remembering who I was buying this for and then I told him to give me the highest level of insurance possible!"  I laughed through tears and kissed him on the cheek at this unexpected gift.  "And Dija, it comes with a keyboard too.  So now you can write again."

I may have temporarily forgotten my dreams, but Lorenzo never did.  So right now, I'm sitting in my still-needs-to-be-cleaned kitchen, writing this post before Amira wakes up, before I wash even one dish, before I check facebook, before I hop on the elliptical, before I eat my breakfast, before I begin the chaos of my day.

In good times and in bad, Lorenzo never forgot who I was.

Maybe it's time I start remembering her.