SunnyCalGirl

Hey friend,

Thanks for following along and joining me on my ramblings.

Your comments are warmly appreciated!

Nancy

btw - what city in California are you from?

Cat Hair

That's what mom asks,

"What in the cat hair made you do that?"

"What in the cat hair is that?"

I suppose, if I took more time, I could recall all the variations of her questions but somehow, mom found the phrase, cat hair, to fit in each one.

I am familiar with cat hair. My sons have two cats. I have vacuumed cat hair from furniture. I have removed cat hair from my blouses with the lint brush. I have cleaned out the cat brush...yep, I would say I am experienced. Never once in all of those many moments in the presence of the real deal, did I EVER ponder using cat hair in a statement....go figure!

I spent a week with my mom this summer...as you already know if you have been following my blog. Hmmmm To be kind as possible and use the best words I know to share my family time with my mom this summer....

It was

an adventure

insightful

entertaining

The not so positive words, but all the same, defining of my visit are...

frightening

wearisome

stressful

Panic attack should fit in there somewhere. You are going to have to times all those emotions by 2 since one of my sisters joined me at my moms and shared the same physical and emotional ...hmmm sensations aka experiences.

If it weren't for the 2 of us, coincidentally being there at the same time, I'm unsure we both could have survived with the sanity we were left with, by day 8 - our last day of vacation.

I began writing this while sitting outside in windy Oxnard, Ca. at the airport while waiting for the shuttle bus to take me away to LAX where I am to catch a flight home to Grand Mound. ahhh home at last!

It was actually enjoyable having the breezes be the only sounds I could hear. Kinda sorta unwinding in the wind...giggle...before I hop on board the shuttle bus with a driver I know must of taken lessons on driving from my mom.

The plane ride - I suspect there will be a passenger near me that the Lord has preselected for our meeting. I wonder if I will find enjoyment in the flight conversation or will I slip on my head set and tune them out with my favorite song list.

Right at that moment though, my guess was as good as yours might be. Either way, I feel prepared.

Perhaps 8 days with my mom has strengthened me and prepared me more for life.

Hmmmm something not so grand is grand after all.

~~

more....isn't there ALWAYS?

I am typing away on my computer keyboard, as I post this a week after my return from vacation. Thus, I now have the knowledge of who the Lord felt would be the most suitable passenger on the plane to be seated next to me.

Funny story actually. On the flight down to California, there were three seats in my row. I had preselected the window seat...I am the baby sister in the family so I felt it was the fair seat to have, as when I went on trips with my family in our Pink Rambler, I was painfully seated between my two older sisters. That all makes sense to you doesn't it?

On the aisle seat was an older woman, about my moms age. She had a carry on bag she had placed on the floor at her feet as she sat down. When the announcement came from the pilot to store our bags and purses safely UNDER the seat in front of us, she placed her two shoed feet on top of her bag. She then proceeded to shove and shove until her bag was tightly wedged...which led to many inner giggles for me later during the flight when she decided to check the bag to make certain all that she had placed in her bag was still there and not gotten into...by who...I was unsure. Perhaps she watched the Twilight Zone episode about the space creature that pestered a passenger on a flight or even the Bugs Bunny episodes when the cartoon gremlin prankster messed with Bugs on flights.

However, Ms. Older Lady could not unwedge her bag. A man who was seated on the aisle seat opposite her, saw her plight. Wanting to be a kind gentleman, he bent down, grabbed a hold of the strap of her bag and heaved. The bag slipped right out. That is when the first giggle came that I HAD to contain within myself in order to not hurt her feelings. Ready for this? She turns to me and with a voice loud enough for the kind gentleman to hear, she said, "Did you see what he did? Did you see how he was so rough with my bag? If it gets stuck again, I am not asking him to help, would you mind helping me next time?"

My smile was huge because inside I was laughing. I suppose she took that as a smile of acknowledgement that, 'sure, I would be glad to.' What she didn't see or know was that when she sat back in her seat, the kind gentleman and I made eye contact and smiled. He knew. I knew. Most of the passengers on the plane with ear shot of her exclamation knew. I wondered how many were joining me and giggling within.

Now to my trip homeward bound. Three seats in my row, me at the window...where else? The seats remained empty until we were about to take off. Hurray, I can put up the arm rests and take over the whole area when we take off. But not so, just as I was working through the thought of if I could get away with turning my body so I could prop my feet up on the empty seats and write, I looked up and saw a group of men heading my way. Two stopped at my aisle. One sits beside me, the other on the aisle seat. bummer

I did what I do best and picked up my ipod and slipped in the ear pieces, turned it on and rocked out with Toby Mac. The men were talking kinda sorta loud to each other. I could not hear what they were saying but knew they were chatting. The next thing I know, the one in the middle gets up and sits behind us in an empty seat. Seems he had the wrong spot. I can deal with that. The guy on the aisle seat taps my shoulder. I took out an ear piece to hear what he had to say. He asks if I like the window seat. Well duh I thought. I was going to explain about the Pink Rambler trips but refrained and simply replied with a 'yes'.

The announcement came over head that we were about to take off and the other details they announce. A late passenger made her way down the walk way and sits guess where...yep, right beside me.

I could not help but notice that she had....TATTOOS! cool The ones I noticed were on her shoulders that were exposed due to the type of blouse she wore.

Hmmm I thought to myself. Then said "Thank you Jesus for letting this lady with tattoos sit next to me and should I take this as confirmation from you Loving Father in Heaven that you agree a tattoo would suit me nicely?"

I waited for the perfect time which was when they served us a beverage and snack to ask her..."So, I noticed you have a nice tattoo on your shoulder." She smiled and began to tell me about ALL of her tattoos and when she got her first one, how much pain some were and the ones she is still going to get. I heard about the why behind each one. I did not know that some tattoos have stories giving them more purpose than 'just cause I wanna'.

While we are on the subject and in conclusion to this posting, did you know that Tatoosh Island in Washington state is not Tattoo Headquarters? bummer :)

Ahh mom, gotta love her!

Did you know that some parking lots have concrete blocks to keep cars from moving beyond the designated space?

Did you know that parking lots often have a path to take in order to maneuver through them, getting from one shopping area to another?

Did you know that my mom takes her own routes through parking lots and almost, kinda sorta, successfully squeezed at an angle, between two concrete blocks, ignoring the designated path? The underside of her car scraped on a portion of a block as my fingers gripped even tighter into my thighs. I heard her mutter frustration with the concrete blocks being in her way and asking the air why the blank blank blocks were in her way using the most colorful words I have heard coming from her mouth.

She turned her head in my direction, which caused me more concern about her now lacking view of parked cars and other vehicles motoring appropriately through the parking lot, to inform me that if her driving made me nervous, I could drive.

What could I say, being her little girl in her mind other than, "Oh no, you are doing fine." There was no smile to accompany the comment but I did not glance in her direction in fear she would see the deer in headlight look on my face.

Reminders of why I chose not to teach my teen children to drive flashed through my head. Thoughts that I DID want to survive my vacation trip to California, crept in also.

The blessing was, the rest of the drive home, she adhered to my directions on where to turn and what lane to be in once we hit the busy streets of Oxnard, until we semi-safely, made it into her carport. Hey, she is good at parking that puppy in her carport in perfect formation!

I knew the worst thing from this situation would be week long bruises on my thighs and a need for a glass of wine.

Can I back up at this point and share with you my welcome to California and life with mom?

I left Seattle with mixed emotions, leaving behind people I knew I would greatly miss, even if only an 8 day trip. Spending time with my aging mother and one of my two sisters and my sister in law, was my goal. Not to mention a need to take a break from my (at the time) current overwhelming schedule.

I arrived in LAX and made a quick departure for the bus terminal outside the airport. In Los Angeles, it was very warm and windy. Washington somehow missed out on the memo that summer had arrived. I waited for my shuttle which was 30 minutes late. It gave me time to enjoy the view as Los Angeles is a far cry from the neck of the Hundred Acre Woods I live in. It gave me time to ponder the not so comfortable moment back at the SeaTac airport, when three security guards asked me to stand and be searched as part of their random safety search. I stood there with arms raised shoulder height, while the female security guard discovered the roll of skin that rests on the waist of my jeans, concealed by my loose blouse, and hoped she would not share that information nor my age as she checked out my drivers license.

The shuttle finally arrived. In the meantime, I had made a phone call to my mom and left a message on her home phone (mom does not want anything to do with cell phones) that I was at the LA airport, waiting for the shuttle and would call her when I got to Oxnard so she could come pick me up.

The drive to Oxnard on the shuttle bus was an introduction to driving with my mom. We ran over obstacles in the road that made for a very bumpy ride. I hoped it wasn't pedestrians but you never know. :)

The view was lovely. We took the coast route.

Once in Oxnard, I grabbed my bag and handed the driver a tip - mostly with thanks for allowing me to arrive in tact physically.

I stepped inside the airport terminal, set my bags on a chair and began my call to mom. Just as the phone began to ring at her house, I noticed a rather large American flag flapping in the wind from the back window of a car pulling up out front. Could it be a motor pool escorting Obama???

silly me

it was mom

She reported to me that the gigantic flapping flag is there for the purpose of her being able to find her car in a parking lot. She reported to me that all the cars look alike for some reason...hmmmm go figure

Mind you, I am proud to be an American and proud our of flag, but to draw THAT MUCH attention to my excursions through town is not my thing.

I wondered if I should have a concern which rose as she told me how much she liked my green blouse when clearly it was blue. hmmmm

So there you have it - that my friends is only the first two days of my 8 day stay. I did not mention the 10 required daily games of Yahtzee or the three pots of coffee I am expected to help her consume. Or the menu which is one meal only per day and that was at 3:00 p.m. and consisted of George Foreman cooked chicken breast which was split between us, a scoop of veggies, a scoop of fruit and of course...coffee.

Hmmm...shall I return in December as planned...Stay tuned :)

The Class

Nope, the class I went to on Saturday morning was not on the beach. One of the ways I use to survive or endure uncomfortable situations or bad dreams is to think on what is good and lovely. Do you agree the above picture is a good and lovely place to pretend you might be?

I don't use the word C R A P. See, I can't even spell it without having issues. However, as I sat in the classroom, browsing through a handbook that I had been handed, that was the only word that came to mind.

It caused me to pause and wonder who I am and who I am becoming. Was I feeling so upset due to the circumstances that led me to the class or was there more to the emotion...

I suppose, attending the class has brought a huge reality to the front of my mind that appears I have blocked - until now - and settled heavy in my heart.

If allowed, at that moment, I would have cried a river. There was not even tissue in the box available to dry such a flood of tears so I held them in.

Allow me to help you as I make clear where I was. I was in downtown Centralia, Washington, in a beautiful building called the Washington Hall. The college classroom is room 105, not that it makes a difference to you however, I found that every detail of that morning was being logged in my brain and hearts journal. To my dismay, I was surrounded by 19 men. There were two women present in the class, one of them being moi'. :(

Men are a red flag for me. A deep seeded fear. A 'don't approach' area. Men are thoughtless, self-serving, cold and uncaring. Men toss out thoughtless words into the atmosphere in hopes of spreading pain to all who are in their space.

I realize that I am speaking for myself, and generalizing when perhaps that is unfair, but how I feel even so, due to past experiences. I do have hope that there are men out there in this world of ours, that are just like the character Tom Hanks portrays in Sleepless in Seattle or You've Got Mail.

Mind you, I'm NOT looking for that one. Nor am I so naive that I believe in fairy tales.

I do have first hand knowledge of my brother in law, Mike. My sister in law and best friend is Patty. She lives in California. From time to time, I get to fly south and visit her. Picture this - she and I sat on the back porch in very comfy chairs, chatting away. Her comes hubby with a tray of morsels for us to indulge on. Each one had it's own toothpick. The tray was not gold or silver and music didn't resound when he made his appearance, but, what a wonderful, thoughtful gesture. It didn't stop there. We thanked him for the tray of food and somehow the lack of chocolate on the tray was mentioned. (Go figure!) He laughs but returns shortly with another tray made up of a couple of chocolate donuts he cut up bite size to appease our needs. :)

Back to the story...I sat in the chair up to the desk and felt my body starting to move into shut down mode - not a productive place for me. I was fighting my feet from rocking due to the stress of it all. It's bad enough, the reality of divorce but added to that was the overwhelming presence of MEN!

I wish there were a way out from this class but that wasn't so.

As I listened to the speakers, I was becoming angry. The class was called, Consider The Children. I have, all those years, considered the children, my children. In my opinion, all those years of raising our children, (my husband and me) I don't feel their father has given them consideration. I grew angry as I visioned him sitting in this same required class in two weeks at his appointed time, having doubts that he would hear the lessons and tools of parenting through divorce, that were being taught.

If I were a rich and famous...ok, not the famous part, I would gather my sons who remain at home, and move us into a mansion. The mansion would be a sanctuary decorated with joy, painted with love and each room filled with the comforting aroma of peace and security.

What can I do for my sons today?

What can I do to find healing for myself?

What IS the reality of what I am with and working through?

Can I use an analogy? I feel as though I have been living in a war zone of sorts. There came an escape route. I knew in my heart it was now or never so I made a move - to a duplex in Grand Mound, leaving behind other casualties. I did not have the tools to carry them. With little money, not even enough to support myself a whole month, I rented a room and kept faith that the Lord would continue to watch over my sons as he did when I left them in the care of their teachers at school. I believe my moving out and the timing, to be God's timing as my heart felt the kind of peace about my decision as only He can give.

However, even walking in God's plan does not mean the road will be paved smoothly. This is one of those walks. :(

Meanwhile, back to the classroom.

After class started and most eyes were focused on the speaker, I scanned the room with my eyes. What I thought was correct, too many men. Men of all ages and sizes, stumbling through divorce, and I am sure, each with their own story to tell of why there were there.

Would it be too much to ask to live in a world without men? But then, there are my four sons to consider. I think they are superb gentlemen and I love them so I guess the men-less world would have to include them.

It's been said that men and women are from different planets...Venus and Mars. Years of experience tells me that is a possibility.

Being there in the class, caused my mind to reflect on the past several years. Painful memories and hurt surfaced. I did what I could to maintain but even still, I had to wipe away a tear or two.

Despite a new life on the journey that lies ahead of me, I continue to grieve the loss of what was. Is that crazy talk? After all, I feel unqualified to understand what the norm is. Perhaps if I don a norm hat, the image will become more clear...

Tomorrow - a glimpse into life with mom via my vacation this summer.

Saturday

I began writing this yesterday, Saturday. It doesn't seem to matter much schedule wise, what day of the week it is since I began my new second summer job. I am working week days and weekends. In my regular job at the school, I know for certain weekends begin on a
Saturday. I doubt it will ever fall into an order that will allow my brain to decipher where my weekend begins and ends now.

I spent 8 days recently in sunny California. I left a rainy Washington but happily returned to a rather sunny Washington. I feel certain the Pacific Northwest Washingtonians are as pleased as I am about the sun. I can't truthfully take credit for bringing the sunshine back with me, although it has been suggested. :)

Saturday was stressful. Funny, I thought the stress was a done deal. The grief yesterday morning brought my way is going to be on tomorrows blog.

So - you ask - why are you posting blogs out of order? Cause I can if I wanna

I began writing this at 8:30 p.m. from the back porch of the duplex I live in. It was the first day in the 7 months I have lived here that I was able to experience night life in Grand Mound from the porch - our winter stayed long past the announcement of Spring and Summer arrival. oh bother!

I thought it would be nice to get acquainted with the trees, birds and blades of grass. The lawn - blades of grass that seem to fight for rank in height. Why else would some be super long while others conform to the shorter status and grow at the same rate as hair on my head does? It messes with my organized brain making me want to get the kitchen scissors and start trimming rebellious blades but I refrained from doing that.

While I was away, two roses bloomed in the garden out front. The back porch holds an abundance of planters with assorted flowers. One is a clipping from a strawberry plant I got from my old house. It produced two strawberries which the neighborhood raccoon found tasty. He didn't leave a thank you note so I am only guessing he found them tasty. My ivory Gerber Daisy plant has four blossoms. If they had a voice I think they would break out in a song. At least that's my thought.

My surprise cosmos that I posted a picture of on a recent blog entitled Hope, grew to a whopping 12 inches and has mini white flowers. They are lovely and make me smile.

There are more pots of flowers that adorn the back porch but I won't bore you with ALL of the details. They seem quite content to be here in the company of moi'. I am quite content to sit in my comfy Coleman camp chair with them also - at the moment.

Something is stirring in me causing me to feel unsettled.

I visited my sons yesterday after my morning class. I cut their hair and played Crazy 8's - a card game. My 18 year old son chatted awhile then retreated to his bedroom. It appeared that he was content in just knowing I was there, if only for a visit. It felt like the old days when all was well...once upon a time. I knew in my heart that my sons were near back then - somewhere in the house. It felt warm and comforting. It completed my day.

Then, as I returned home, I knew they were once again, far away. Not too far, only 40 minutes away - still in my heart, but not where I can at any given time, hug on them, chat with them or just 'be mom'.

The area here in Grand Mound is beautiful. The birds - sparrows at that moments view - are chattering to each other from the tall trees that are just beyond the other side of the back yard fence. Please don't ask what kind of trees as all I can tell you is they are tall, green trees. :)

The sparrows were very busy as they soared through the sky over a large open field that I see through the openings of the fence. They swoop down then up again to land on a tree branch, chattering all the while. I wonder if they are playing a game or discussing who is going to sleep where that night. Do you suppose birds have discussions about such things?

My finances have been lacking since I moved out. Now, I feel certain that will change for the better with the addition of my second job.

That causes rest in my mental list of worries and burdens.

The summer season has made its way to my neck of the 100 acre woods which allows me to feel joy. So, I check that off my list of concerns.

Papers that needed to be filed are just that - filled out and officially filed. Another check mark finds its place on my list of worries.

Yesterday I kinda sorta fell apart and still last night, could not regain peace inside. I wonder if I can locate Yoda, the Jedi Master in the yellow pages....hmmmm could he be of help to me

I thought I was in control. After I began my morning having a great hair day. I knew where the class was that I had to attend.

Situations, circumstances, memories and too much thinking got in the way of an ordinary day. How do I allow that to occur? Why can't I be normal and in conyrol like everyone else appears to be?

I knew I would be laying my head on a pillow in a couple of hours. In the meantime, I sipped hot coffee and enjoyed the summer evening fragrance of fresh mowed lawns. Stars would fill the sky soon and twinkle as they dance through the night. I will make a wish or two then say my good nights to each one...well, at least the ones I can see. Maybe resting and then waking to a new sunrise will help my soul find whatever I seem to be lacking.

Christopher Robin always seems to have solutions to problems. Perhaps the white pages....?

:)

Part Two:

I never did have to search the yellow pages or white pages for Jedi Masters or Christopher Robins phone number. The solution found me. It was simple...I went to bed early and found there, everything I needed to fill the unsettledness. There I found what I was lacking...even though I did not have the sense to find it on my own.

Isn't that just how some days go?

Blessings

Bitter Sweet

A few weeks ago...

I was sitting in an office - everyone was pleasant to me. For that I was thankful. The reason I was there was not pleasant. Almost seemed ironic.

I was glad that I had legal help in filling out papers for my divorce, after 31 years of marriage. I felt sad, confused, weary at a bit of an angry, hurtful life.

I was sad for my children. I was weary from the years I spent fighting one battle after another for our marriage sake only to be told by my husband that if I would be more like him and ignore our situation, it will go away.

I never ignored anything that happened but did work hard to forgive. The pain never went away nor did it help.

I spent hours buffering between my children and their father. It didn't help much. When the words are spoken, no matter what you do, they are still out there.

I was confused because I believed marriage to be a happy ever after. But, I was wrong.

He is a bit angry, but what's new?
He is hurt - it shows in his anger which I believe to be a secondary emotion.
I am hurt because from what I have experienced over these several years and continue to endure - feeling that I have been shown that I am not worthy to be treated with respect.

So... I wonder why
So...I doubt myself to be a loving and caring person

I was glad that those people in the office were kind. It made the ugly task a bit easier.

It is a have to. I know that.

A few short hours before I showed up for my appointment, I sat with my legs up on a love seat and listened to my 14 year old tell me that his life is over at age 14.

He cried.

I asked him why he felt that way. He said he doesn't have a family anymore.

I was glad we could speak openly. In the past, I have kept my mouth closed tight and never allowed statements against their father to leave my lips. I was being respectful.

At that moment, I decided that my son needed to know more of where I was coming from. I wanted him to understand the reason - or at least some of the reasons why I am doing this.

As I let my words pour out, I noticed his demeanor change. He was calmer. It was a bonding moment. He told me he understands because he feels the same. He never knows when he is in trouble or going to be yelled at or not. He said he remembers how it was for me and feels he is taking my place in being nervous to live with his dad.

He said he is torn because it is still his dad and he loves him. I told him that is a good and normal thing.

He said he is tired of hearing I am sorry from his dad. He said he just wishes his dad wouldn't say or do what he does to begin with so the I am sorry doesn't have to happen.

I have found my voice finally.
I have found an inner strength I didn't know existed.

The downside is that I miss my sons. I have said that many times before in my posts but it weighs heavy on my heart.

Hoops

What will it take, what must I go through in order for you to understand me?

I jumped through hoops
I cowered down for you
I spoke English
I wrote you notes with precision
I let my actions speak for me at times

And yet, you still do not know me.
Maybe then, it's not my job.
Maybe then, I need to let it be and set us both free

The Forest For the Trees

It's so hard to see my life in the bigger picture...trees get in the way of my view...

...when my mind and life are consumed with a kinda sorta fog and my heart is filled with brokenness...

Once upon a time and not so long ago, my day drifted on in the usual way, every moment accounted for with busy work. At the end of the day I took time to sit and watch a movie to unwind a bit.

My cell phone chimmed. It was a text message from my youngest son. He said, "good night. I want chocolate".

I could relate to the fact that it was night time and that it was good that the day was over and the chocolate part...well you know. :)

I replied, letting him know that sharing chocolate with him sounded like a great plan.

A second chim alert.

My son sent a second message - "Dad really loves you. Thought you should know".

My reply - "What prompted that?"

His reply - "Dad told me to tell you so and that if you feel lonely, you can come home".

My reply - "Thanks for sharing that with me. Have a good sleep".

What was I to say in response to my 14 year old son being a pawn?

I knew I would sleep that night, at least make an attempt at it.
I knew the stars would still be in the night sky, even if they were hidden by clouds.
I knew tomorrow would come and days would be brighter.
But then, I did not know the many storms that I must endure before the brightness of the dawn...

Hey You!

Look at what you have done for me. I just wanted you to know, how nice it is that you have broken down the walls that surrounded me for so long. You have shown me that sunshine is my destination. You have shown me that everyday holds wonders to be seen. I appreciate that about you.

I like that way you listen to my words, my feelings and seem to be able to understand me. How is that so? I wonder sometimes

My heart has been blue for a long, long time. Now, it is my time to select a new color. I wonder if double coffee carmel macchiato or chocolate candy are colors...

promise me

you will make my dreams come true

promise me

you will never go away

Commercial Break

Every now and then my mind takes a commercial break from my too fast paced life. Like last night, for some odd reason, I was sitting quietly, listening to someone take me on bunny trails that were really quite amusing. All of a sudden a glimpse of my day unfolded in my mind. It was unpleasant and brought on more burdens and worries and unsafe emotions. It felt like a heavy weight suddenly fell over my body as burdens and pressures of my life, rose to the surface.

When I was a child and would wake from a bad dream - I watched far too many Vincent Price movies as a child :) - I would lay in my bed, in the darkness of the night, and blink my eyes. I would pretend that as I did, I was changing channels, causing my most current thoughts or dreams to make way for a new program that I hoped would be more like a fairy tale princess dream so I could go back to sleep. Silly I know but children do have creative minds.

However, in my adult life, at that moment, experiencing a kinda sorta day time night mare, I found myself for a minute or two, feeling as though I was going to fall apart. I wondered if this is how it felt to have a break down. I wondered if this time I would not return to reality and was there still room in my mind to lock away more bad experiences.

There are some occurrences that happen in my life that overwhelm me to where I can't even speak about them. I know - that talking about them is the healthy thing to do. However, for self preservation, I refuse to allow myself to speak what was done or said to me out loud. I suppose, I keep hoping that those thoughts will grow bored of living in my head and catch a jet plane to a more pleasant surrounding, leaving me in peace.

So...I return the fake smile to my face in hopes my heart and mind will be fooled into thinking that all is well.

...and so it was then, during recovery attempt from my minds commercial break last night, that I pondered....

When will I learn?

or is it

When will he learn?

and

Will I surive another day?

Standards

...having to submit

where I sat

what time I went to bed

saying I love you on your demand

making your lunch daily, your particular way

Standards that changed with your mood

...when I was allowed to chat on the phone

what meals were to be

what I could watch on TV

lipstick or chapstick

my time allotment on the computer

how I respond to your statements and behavior

Standards I wished and prayed were not standards

how I showed you my love

how I expressed who I am

how I wished I could have been free to love and be me

then perhaps my love for you would not have grown cold

I would not have died as I did

or

spent nights feeling alone

in the darkness, with tears in my eyes,

longing and waiting for what I felt

was my only escape...

the sweetness of death to save me

Tired

You know what I get tired of? Life sometimes. Maybe more it is the things and people in it that I grow weary of the most.

Tired of meany heads
Tired of tasks that never seem to end
Tired of heartless people who intentionally vomit on others and thrill at throwing their harsh words into the world
Tired of not having enough hours in most days to complete the tasks my mind tells me to do
Tired of having my heart broken
Tired of not understanding
Tired of feeling I am NEVER going to be whole again
Tired of trying harder than I need to, most of the time

Hmmmm

But, on the bright side....I woke up kinda sorta feeling ready for the day. For the first time in days, I slept well and longer than a four or five hours. Then as I headed down the hall to turn on the pot of water for my morning coffee, I heard birds chirping. I quickly went to the sliding glass door and slid it open. The sky was clear. The air was clean and as I took in a deep breath, it was as if a wish on a night star had come true. I had to smile. I looked for the birds that might be chattering about the morning but could not find them. My guess is they had all gathered on nearby tree branches enjoying the bird version of coffee and chatting about how lovely it was to have another day of sunshine and warmth.

The day got better and better. The best part of that is it is only 8:15 in the morning. That means there is more joy coming. At least that is what my heart is telling me....so here I go, into the day with a song on my heart and a smile that today, really is a smile and not the fake one I so often wear.

Pieces

Pieces of my heart have disappeared.

At least that is how it feels to me.

Love and tender moments that lived there,

I have lost somewhere.

I wonder if they are lost forever.

I'm going to let my concern go

mostly because when I view my life

(an assortment of puzzle pieces)

and realize the joy and love that covers me,

I am ok with that.

Funny

I am changed. The past few months of happenings have really changed me. I seem like someone else...to me.

I don't know how to take this change that moves me to - well - living, as if for the first time.

And so I wonder...
should I scream and shout
should I allow my feelings out

I never thought I'd come to this point in my life where I am free to wonder what life is really all about. A point where my life is not dictated, leaving me to decide all on my own where to go, what to do, what I like, how to spend my days and nights and free to think...right or wrong, or filled with crazy self-talk, as I explore all the possibilities.

Don't you think that it is rather funny that I would be in this position at this late stage in my life? Now, for the first time in my life, I am in control Moi'.

Don't you think that it is rather funny that I am filled with delight at the occurrence and yet .... it scares me?

Hope

There it is - hope.

It might not look like much to you but it does to me. There is a story behind my 3 inch plant. Care to pour yourself a cup or coffee and sit with me while I explain?

Once upon a time, I was without hope. Oh, I had hope long ago but it went away as quickly as it came. Kinda sorta banished from the kingdom where I lived. Only thing was, I didn't live in the kingdom as a princess but as a captive, held prisoner in a dark castle.

I didn't have visitors. No prince climbed my long hair to rescue me. Prayers seemed to go unanswered and frankly I became afraid to pray, believing the thick walls of the dungeon would keep them from filtering up to heaven.

Silence is not always golden or cherished. Silence can keep a person thirsty as they feel their life going dry.

And so it was....as the years rolled by - one seeming very much like the last - I became more thirsty. Just as the last drop of hope was about to spill out, I found a well to quench my thirst for hope.

At first, I was skeptical. I kept my eyes closes, my hands clinched tight and made sure I kept my distance. Hope never gave up on me. It stayed beside me during the storms of fall season, it held me when lightening crashed across the sky and the thunder rolled., It kept close to me, as a warm blanket to snuggle in on the coldest winter night.

Then one day I found the companionship of hope was what kept me moving forward and I began to believe it was real and that if I unclenched my fists and opened my eyes, I would be able to embrace the life that I had, until then, only hoped for.

Just like the precious plant you see here. It is growing in a pot on my back porch. It was once upon a time a tiny seed. It tried to grow. I saw it sprout one spring morning. But, the world it saw must of frightened it for it gave up and fell back into the soil.

A few days ago, as I was resting on the porch, I saw it! I stood so tall and strong as if it were calling to me - giving me a message of some kind.

Perhaps - hope was the message, never give up hoping.

If that tiny seed that has weathered the Pacific Northwest storms and my ungreen thumb can survive, then surely, I can weather the storms in this life.

The End