Pam Is Trying

In the Garden...

2011-11-01T21:12:00.004-05:00

I had laid there, unable to respond to anything around me. My family was there. I fought to breathe, but found I was unable to do it.

I gasped for air. It seemed to be the signal they all needed to know my time was here.

One daughter called for another, and she called for another.

They were scared.

I wasn't.

I could see what was beyond anything they could ever imagine.

My breathing became very labored. I fought for each breath with all my might, although I couldn't understand why.

Beauty like none could imagine laid before me.

Maybe I breathed for them - those that surrounded me. I just don't know.

One daughter grabbed my hand, but I couldn't help her hold it. Her hand slid down my wrist, resting at my pulse point. She seemed happy enough with that, and honestly, I was, too.

I gasped for a breath, and they began to sing...

"I come to the garden alone;"

(The song that had somehow kept me going since I had gotten so sick.)

"While the dew is still on the roses;"

(I see tears of understanding. I'm leaving. I hope they won't hurt too much.)

"And the voice I hear, falling on my ear;"

(That voice says, "Joe. Well done. Come home."

"The Son of God discloses;"

(He was calling for me. I hope they understood that.)

"And, He walks with me, and He talks with me;"

(I cannot wait to walk and talk with Him)

"And, He tells me I am His own."

(I know now, if I ever had doubt, I am, indeed, His own. The angels are singing. I am going home.)

"And, the joy we share as we tarry there;"

(My mother! I see my mother! She's calling to me! Oh, Mama, you are so beautiful! I love you!)

"None other has ever known."

(I fly away from the room, all the while, watching them. I wave to my great grandbaby, Tyler, on my way. He sees me. He smiles. I hurt for them, but not enough that I will stay. My God has called me. I am ready to go Home.)

And, just like before I had found them all those years ago, there was my family. Alone but together, trying to live life without me.

I don't know about those days, but I do remember about the day I arrived.

If you have a minute, sit right down. I want to tell you a story...

Lift Me Up...

2011-05-05T08:49:00.003-05:00

This year, of all years, Mothers Day has a completely different meaning in my life. In September, my child's blood put life into a tiny, little being in this world.

I'd like to tell you that on the day my grandchild was born the earth moved, the sun came out and everything was suddenly perfect.

Ashamed, I tell you it didn't happen like that. As a matter of a fact, it couldn't have been farther from that.

I spent most of the year 2010 coming up with every reason in the world that my child was NOT going to be a father: could NOT be a father...

And, God forgive me, blaming the one who carried that beautiful little creature in her womb.

I didn't want any part of it, and I made every effort to let her know just that.

My friends, I shed tears as I admit that.

There are no words or anything I can ever do to change that. I can never undo it. I can never take it back. I missed the first six months of that completely innocent baby's life because of foolish pride and fear.

It will forever haunt me that I spent nine months purposefully making a scared, pregnant teenage girl miserable.

And, then, as God usually does, a miracle happened...

In April, a path opened up, and on an incredibly hot Louisiana spring afternoon, I waited on a bench at the zoo to meet my granddaughter for the first time.

It was to also be the first time I had seen her mother since before the signs of her pregnancy even began to show on her tiny frame.

Scared, pensive and hopeful, I turned to see them waiting at the entrance, and I began to move as quickly as I could toward them.

And, there, in the middle of the Alexandria Zoo, people, I learned about grace...

And being gracious...

And about forgiveness.

I didn't see the girl my son once dated...

The girl I blamed for each of his shortcomings since the day he met her...

I saw a terrified, overly-exhausted, but ready to start over fresh little girl who was now a mother.

And, I might add, doing a great job at it.

Oh, my friends, I cannot even express to you how proud I am of her, how unbelievable grateful I am to her, how amazed I am by her!

Without even a question, she forgave me...

For everything I had put her through.

I truly do not believe I have ever experienced human forgiveness on that level.

I don't believe I can even articulate how she has moved me.

I think of her being alone, knowing I was not championing her, and I am so ashamed. I cannot imagine how that made her feel. I can never make up for it.

I did that. Me. The one who demands all human beings be treated with dignity and respect refused that right to a young girl who had to feel as though it was she versus the world. The one person I probably owed it to most. And I made the choice to refuse her.

She deserves far better than I have ever given her, and yet, she's taught me about forgiveness without stipulations.

She and I are working toward building a solid foundation that will last a lifetime.

And, this time, I will get it right.

I will be her cheering squad.

I will respect her.

I will be on her side.

I will protect her.

I will encourage her.

I will tell her she's doing right.

Because she deserves that...

And so much more.

Great Mothers are those who work tirelessly to make a better way for their children. She is one of those mothers. It is truly my honor to share this journey with her.

So, sweet girl, Happy First Mothers Day. I am so very proud of you. Thank you for teaching me about life. Thank you for extending your hand in friendship to me.

Chances are we will probably disagree again, but just know I will always respect your right to be the mother of your child and I will always respect your choices. This time, if we disagree, we will do it in love, never to repeat our past. I look forward to our future.

I hope you know I am here for you and will always lift you up.

True Colors...

2011-03-29T10:24:00.006-05:00

I can still smell the summer air and feel the sun on my shoulders as we all enjoyed being young, trying hard to impress one another with our cartwheels, back walk-overs and how well we could get our legs down into the grass into a perfect split.

I wasn't as good as the rest of them.

People, I was not blessed with athleticism...

I could do it...

I just didn't look good doing it.

And, then there was Melissa.

She was about as big as a minute and could leap through the air with the most amazing grace that any of us had ever seen. Even at our tender ages, we all knew Melissa had something special.

She could start a sprint at one side of the yard and never stop flipping until she reached the other side, and she executed it perfectly.

Being competitive as we all were and as talented as she was, you'd think she'd have bragged on how much better she was than we, but not Melissa...

That tiny bit of a girl would get in that yard and lift us and instruct us, telling us exactly what to do next so that we could be as graceful as she.

But, you see, those were her true colors...

Ever-encouraging;

Ever-teaching;

Ever-inspiring.

As we grew into teenagers, we did what most of us all do and after high school, we really lost track of one another.

Naturally, I'd hear a bit here and a bit there about her, her life and her children, but I honestly couldn't tell you the last time I saw her.

Although I don't know her story, I know her life held some challenges for her, and as Melissa always seemed to do, she overcame...

And, she didn't do it the normal way...

She did it her way...

Over the top...

Bigger and better...

Encouraging everyone she met, lifting them and instructing them, telling them exactly what to do next so that they could be as graceful as she.

She made peace with her God and it was obvious in everything she did and every person she touched.

Melissa knew God, and she knew God in a mighty way.

This world lost Melissa on Sunday.

Since then, I've thought and thought and thought of her and one word alone resonates with me...

Inspiring.

I remember her, tiny as she was, lifting my legs into the air (and struggling to get her arms high enough to get to my feet) and saying, "Now, point your toes, bend your legs just a little and go on over."

I think of her, and the vision of her so effortlessly flipping herself into the air is what I see.

Beautiful...

Graceful...

Carefree.

She didn't want to keep what she had just for herself. She wanted to share it.

I know that today she sits in the lap of God.

I know that, in spite of everything, my friend has heard the words, "Well done."

And, it was well done, Melissa.

It was done Melissa-style...

Ever-encouraging;

Ever-teaching;

Ever-inspiring.

Over the top.

Bigger and better.

And, with absolute humility.

Because those were your true colors.

They are beautiful.

Like the rainbow.

And I Won't Let Go...

2011-03-01T12:15:00.002-06:00

I held my breath and dialed the number, counting the rings...

One...

I dreaded this call.

Two...

I hated what I was about to be forced to say.

Three...

I hated to be the messenger that morning.

The raspy "hello" coming through the receiver told me that my beloved childhood friend already knew what I was calling to say.

He and I sat there talking, processing what he was feeling, grieving the loss of his dad.

Familial relationships are, quite honestly, the most cruel and complex relationships we will ever have. The people who are supposed to never turn their back on us sometimes do, and the realization that this time the clock can't be turned back is absolute torture, even if you are blameless, and it is cruel.

If I could carry him in my pocket where the world couldn't touch him, I promise you, I'd do it.

But I can't do that.

So, instead, I just listened to him and let him feel what he was feeling.

I will stand in the gap for him. He would do it for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's just stuff, honey. It's going to be alright," I whispered in his ear as I hugged him.

"It's just stuff," he repeated back, as he stared at nothing in particular somewhere in the distance. He didn't believe me, but somehow, I think he thought if he said it, it would make him believe.

His eyes were as tired as I had ever seen them, and they held a secret pain that I hadn't seen there in quite a long time.

I understood that look.

I understand that feeling.

I've been there, standing in what was once my home that somehow, in a matter of just a few hours, suddenly feels oddly foreign. It's still your house, but you realize the dynamic of how home is now defined has changed, and as much as we believe we're ready for it, we are not.

God didn't ordain marriage that way, and you are never more accutely aware of that fact than you are in that particular second.

If I could carry him in my pocket where the world couldn't touch him, I promise you, I'd do it.

But I can't do that.

So, instead, I just held him and let him feel what he was feeling.

I will stand in the gap for him. He would do it for me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I walked in the house and went to look for her. I found her in the living room, working diligently.

"It's really not that bad," I said to her.

She looked up at me, "No, it's not, but it's got Dad in knots, and I've got to fix it. I can't let my dad feel this way."

As we went about the business of organizing what needed to be done, I looked at her...

Such a beautiful young woman, who for that instant, wasn't worried about anything except her dad and righting his world.

At that second, a respect for her grew within me that I don't think could ever be challenged. She has character. And it runs deep. And it's very rare to find in one so young.

I was honored. It was as if I was granted priviledge to witness her grow right before my eyes.

I knew what she was feeling. I, too, would move heaven and earth to protect my dad.

If she could carry him in her pocket where the world couldn't touch him, I promise you, she'd do it.

But she can't do that.

So, instead, she just did what she could do and let him feel what he was feeling.

She will stand in the gap for him. He has done it for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Painfully aware of the human condition this week and how fragile we truly are, I saw love in action, and even though the pain was as real as anything could possibly be, love was even moreso.

We all need to know someone is on our side...

That someone cares...

That we are not alone.

That someone stands by us...

And they won't let go.

My hope for us all, my friends, is that none of us are ever alone, and that as long as we live, someone is there to stand in the gap for us.

Hold the ones you love tightly.

And, don't let go.

Hello World...

2011-02-15T08:37:00.006-06:00

Ah! Blessed, beautiful springtime is in the air and teasing me with those tiny glimpses into what it's going to be like after winter finally admits defeat and succumbs to spring's promise of something new to come, traveling back to its cave, falling in to a deep slumber until December.

I love spring.

I love the smell of fresh air and flowers and freshly mowed grass.

God Himself wraps his arms around me through the warm sunshine on my body and whispers, "Everything is going to be alright, kid. Just sit back and trust Me. Watch what I'm about to do. You'll see. Something good is coming and it is just for you."

The world is new again...

Inviting us all, if only for a bit, to just relish in the glory of living...

And to understand what an honor it is to be here...

To be given another chance...

Another tomorrow...

Another promise.

When you least expect it.

In the least likely of places.

In the least likely way.

Through a most unexpected source.

Hello world.

How ya' been?

Good to see you, my old friend.

Realizing that every zig and zag and fork in life's road; every tear, every tragedy, every triumph...

Brought me here.

And, here is a very, very good place to be.

On the surface, "here" should be in shambles...

But inside, "here" is about as close to perfect as I have ever known.

Sunday afternoon I was thinking these exact thoughts when he said, "I like this song," and reached out to turn the radio up a little bit.

No words were spoken between us as we both listened...

Hello world.

How ya' been.

Good to see you, my old friend.

A tear formed in my eye, as I realized I was experiencing my very own moment expressed in the song, as I took in the lyrics.

When it finished, I looked over and told him, "I like it, too," hoping he wouldn't see the shimmer of the tear in my eye.

He smiled at me.

I smiled back.

Hello world.

How ya been?

Good to see you, my old friend.

Sometimes, maybe spring's a time to erase past hurts and forgive.

Just maybe some are worth a second chance.

And, maybe - just maybe - this time when we forgive, we have to remember to forget...

Because others' slates deserve to be wiped as clean as ours.

And, as you're drinking in that moment, thinking that God is a Masterful and Wondrous Creator, orchestrating everything to show you what He's been saying all along...

You'll get to giggle a little along the way as the person with whom you are sharing this incredible moment that you know, without doubt, you are going to wrap up and place in your heart from this day forward and cherish it forever...

This moment...

This day...

This look between you...

When you think life just couldn't get any better than it is right now.

He'll look over at you and ask you this question - the one you never expected him to ask:

"What's this song about, anyway?"

Hello world.

How ya' been?

Good to see you, my old friend.

Sometimes I feel, cold as steel.

And broken like I'm never gonna heal.

I see a light.

A little grace.

And a little faith unfurl.

Hello world.

I Forgot...

2011-01-29T12:44:00.007-06:00

We stood there in my mother's driveway for what seemed forever. I hadn't seen him in weeks, and honestly, the days between our separation seemed to be just what I needed to remind me that I wasn't built for this...

That I didn't care...

That nothing could touch me.

In a moment of non-thinking, I told him, "You smell so good," as my face cradled into his neck and I breathed his very essence.

"I've been at work all day," he mumbled into my ear.

Without thinking, I spoke aloud my thought, "I know. It smells like you, and I love that."

Dammit.

I had revealed my cards before I even realized it.

He had me, and he knew it. From there, I'd just have to trust him with my emotions.

I hated that part. I always have. I have never wanted anyone to know they had any emotional power over me whatsoever, and there I was, as if wrapping it in pretty paper and putting a ginormous ribbon around it.

What he would do from it from there was up to him, and I was forced to just stand there, my face buried in his chest until he spoke...

Because as we all know, the first to speak is the first loser.

And, he said...

Nothing.

For minutes, he said nothing.

Unable to take it any longer, I spoke up, "So, do you want to stand here forever like this, or are you going to let me go?"

I heard the words, "I don't know, but for right now, this is perfect."

I said nothing, but only stood there in his arms until his grip loosened.

I had been here before...

The absolute reality of life's reality hitting me slam in the face to the point that I was speechless.

I was so very aware...

I had given my power away...

And, I was his.

He could do with me what he wanted, and I would stand there and take it.

He had me.

He knew it, and I knew it.

I am so very, very grateful he treated my words with the respect they deserved.

It was him...

Nothing else. Just...him...

That had me wrangling for words.

For all words that were spoken, so many more had been unspoken, and the heaviness of the air admitted that truth.

So, where from here?

I don't know...

No clue.

But, I'll ride, because he drives...

And, at long last, I trust him.

And for as much as I've worked to prove him not worth my trust, he has proved that he actually is.

So, for now until forever, no matter what, I'll remember the exact moment that, for the third time in my lifetime, I realized I was in love...

And, I will hold it close to my heart, and even though it may fall apart tomorrow, I will hold that moment close, and I will never, ever forget...

That I forgot to tell you I loved you.

The Need to Be...

2010-11-21T20:39:00.003-06:00

Oh, the words have been within me, begging to get out, but I've had to hush them. So garbled and beyond recognition to even me, to spill them out would have been foreign...

No one would have understood. Least of all, me.

So, as I sit here, I realize our lives are no more than chapters...

Composing one big book at the end.

I've been with those as their books came to completion...

Sometimes, even, in the middle of the story...

Leaving us begging for more.

My story, as of today, is yet unfinished.

I await the ending of this chapter so that I can move on to the good part of the book, but like a dutiful reader...

I will read this part, as difficult and laborious as it is, knowing that when it's over, I'll have forgotten most of it, so that I can get to the part where the story starts to turn.

All the while knowing that the parts that irritate me today are the parts that I will miss tomorrow.

I am still working at making my life to be an old friend I find in a book...

That I could sit on the back porch swing and read over and over and over again.

It still hasn't happened, but I know that one day it will.

My chapters unfold...

I find myself looking back to those chapters when my children were young and I chased them and bathed them and laughed with them and loved them and their chubby little faces, dirty from whatever adventure had captivated them on that day...

And, I'm longing to get to the part in the story where I find resolution and my children are grown and happy and settled and their lives are nothing short of greatness and happiness.

My mother knows how I feel.

She's still reading that same part of her life's book.

I await the part of my story where I have it all resolved.

That I am settled.

And, at long last...

Happy.

In every sense of the word.

Secure.

Nothing in the world can touch me.

It hasn't happened yet.

And, people, I'm not ready to stop reading.

I'll continue this story on and on and on.

Because, as sure as there will be a tomorrow...

There is an ending.

It was written for me before I was even born upon this earth.

And, honestly, knowing that Someone...

The One who created me...

Knows how this story ends...

Is enough for me.

For right now, I am all that I need to be.

Our Home, Louisiana...

2010-08-29T20:00:00.002-05:00

Special thanks to the talented Jep Epstein for articulating what all of us felt, but none of us could articulate, five years ago.

Anais Nin once said, "The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say." Mr. Epstein did that, seemingly effortlessly, for the citizens of Louisiana with this most beautiful song...

Five years ago, the much anticipated Hurricane Katrina came ashore, and at the time, none of us could have predicted the destruction that little bitch would leave behind.

And, I remember...

I was at Outback with a group of friends, about to go meet my children for a Bowling for Soup concert at the Riverfront Center here at home.

I was newly separated; quite intrigued with a man I should have never even tangled with, and more worried about what was going on in my little corner of paradise than what was going on in the gulf.

Hurricanes...

Yeah, we'd had 'em.

But usually when they got this far inland, they were little more than bad thunderstorms with a chance of tornadoes...

We'd lived with it all our lives...

No big deal.

New Orleans would live...

It always did.

The world worried and waited, and we just lived on, waiting for tomorrow.

Although I wasn't worried, I wasn't stupid, either...

I made arrangements for my children to stay with their father, and then I did what any woman separated from her husband would do at the hint of danger...

I went home.

To my husband.

His job as a catastrophe adjuster dictated we would stay glued to The Weather Channel from Sunday afternoon until the storm had passed to see where he would be working next...

None of us could have guessed that aftermath.

None. of. us.

I awoke on Monday morning to the sight of Matt Lauer standing in the middle of New Orleans, ankle deep in water, and thought, "What? The storm's been gone nearly 24 hours, and New Orleans made it. I don't get it."

I woke my husband up with a, "Get up. You're not gonna believe this."

For three days we watched as waters rose...

And people tried to flee...

Sending messages on rooftops, overpasses and by boat...

That people needed help.

Our people were dying...

Had died...

Our home was slipping away.

For that brief moment in time, two people who were worlds apart in their idiology and beliefs had to cling to one another, for at that time...

Nothing else made sense.

I remember dreaming of people walking in water at night as I tried to sleep...

I remember dreaming of people screaming at the sight of their loved ones slipping away...

I remember waking up to realize I was only dreaming what was going on in real life...

And, I remember the pain.

Oh, how I remember that pain.

Should you ever doubt what is important, just imagine it being ripped away.

Five years ago, my friends, I realized I was home.

The very place I had fought against was home...

And, there was no other place on earth I'd rather be.

Louisiana...

This is our home.

I Believe...

2010-08-22T19:38:00.003-05:00

I'm a small town girl. You all know this, and I've never kept it a secret.

As much as I have fought this place, it is my home. I love it, and anyone that knows me, knows that I wouldn't have it any other way.

The fact that everyone here knows me and can talk against me are the exact comforts I find when I realize that I am here...

There is security in knowing everyone around you...

Enemy, friend...Whichever...

If you live in my town, I know you...

And I know who you are.

And I know in which category you belong.

In all actuality, and even though I try to present myself as if I'm above it, I feel sorry for those who aren't fortunate enough to have my life.

To me, life is beautiful...

My mistakes are mine...

My good choices are mine...

And, no one else can take credit for it.

The fact is this: I am happy here.

I never wanted it, and really thought my branches were stretching farther that my roots...

But at the end of the day...

My roots are embedded far more further than my branches will ever spread...

I love life simple.

I believe in hard work and friendship and family...

I believe that home is where your heart is.

And...

My heart is here.

You can find my heart in a little man in a wheelchair living in a nursing home less than a mile from where I grew up...

You can find my heart in a little old woman that complains too much, whines too much and fusses too much, but all the while, worrying about that little man in the wheelchair.

You can find my heart in a young adult girl who has decided, after all these years, to return to college...

You can find my heart in a young man that doesn't even know where he's going, but knows his future starts at the beginning of September.

You can find my heart in a man that lives, quite simply, just a few miles from here that believes in his daughters...his grandson...his job...and that something better's coming.

Yes, my friends, after all this time...

I believe.

Living Inside...

2010-08-16T17:09:00.002-05:00

"Our fingerprints never fade from the lives we touch."

- From the movie "Remember Me"

This quote jumped off the television screen, planting itself in my brain, moving me to a higher level of self-examination. I searched in ernest for proper credit, and after finding none, realized this golden nugget must be the gift of a screen writer somewhere in this world that didn't, nor will they ever, get the recognition warranted for revealing, what I believed to be, the most important lesson any of us could learn in life.

The last couple weeks have found me taking a closer look inward, maybe even on a more intense level than ever before. Those of you who've been on this journey of self-discovery with me over the last five years will understand the magnitude of that statement.

This time...

It's different.

No more am I beating myself up for the choices I either made or failed to make...

I don't regret my life well-lived...

Nor the people I have loved...

Nor the ones I have let go.

No, friends, today, I am pleased with me.

I am where I need to be and doing the things I need to do.

There's a satisfaction in living life simple and being happy with where you are...

Struggling to understand, and one day, as if by magic, realizing that you've had the answers all along.

In one defining moment...

One look...

One tiny little look at someone across a room...

Looking at them looking at someone you love...

With whom they have no connection except that they are part of you...

When you realize that you are alright.

That the journey may have been long...

There may have been tears...

There may have been troubles...

But it all led you today.

And, today is perfect.

One look, and that fingerprint is there.

It could be taken away tomorrow...

But that print is there now, and will never fade.

It's living inside.

Heavenly Day...

2010-07-25T07:15:00.004-05:00

As I lie in the bed and watch the shadows on my bedroom wall announce the sun's sleepy ascent into the sky, I can feel the softness of my favorite sheets scented with their fresh from the dryer perfection, and my senses are at a heightened plane of awareness.

I think for a second about my strong believe that my bed is the most comfortable, cozy place on the planet, and as I yawn and glance over, my lips curl into a grin when I see the eyes of the two beautiful creatures sprawled out beside me look over to wish me good morning.

Somehow, those two seem to know when I'm just stirring...

And, when it's official, we are starting our day.

This morning; however, with all my intent on greeting the world, I lie there...

Just thinking about how life is a most painfully beautiful ride and that, no matter what may have ever happened, or what may ever happen, that for this particular moment in time...

Life is perfect.

My parents are with me...

My children are safe...

My home is my haven.

Today, I will see the one who makes me smile...

And, everyone I love is accounted for.

Yes, if only for this moment, today seems to be a heavenly day.

I Wish I Could be There...

2010-06-25T18:51:00.002-05:00

I awoke from a most deep and peaceful sleep, only to argue with the sun beginning to pry its way into my bedroom. As I realized my surroundings, I knew it was Sunday and Father's Day.

I didn't even think.

I rolled from the bed, went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth.

I hurriedly dressed and jumped into my car.

I had a destination in mind...

I whipped into that drive-thru at 6:30 in the morning and ordered donuts and milk.

As I continued on my journey, it occurred to me that they may not even let me in...

Surely, there must be rules about visiting times, but I had never seen it, so...

I continued on.

I had my donuts and my milk and I just kept driving.

I arrived just before full daylight and found the place asleep.

As I walked back into the "C Wing", I wondered if I had made a huge mistake.

He may be sleeping...

He may be in the tub...

He may have been 10,000 things, and none of them included me.

Instead, what I found was his devoted aide sitting beside him, just chatting with him.

I insisted that she not leave, but with my being there, she wanted me to visit and she left.

There he was...

The most beautiful man on earth...

Lying there, half asleep.

"Whatcha' doin', PawPaw?" I quizzed him.

I knew the answer. I was just waiting on him to say it.

"Not much. Just sittin' on my can-can. It's a good job, but it doesn't pay too much."

"Yeah, but there's job security in that, right?" I asked him.

"There sh-ore is that, baby."

And, so, he and I sat and talked as the rest of the world slept.

We talked about the peach cobbler I was making that day, and he told me to put an egg in the batter if I wanted it fluffy...

But to leave it out if I didn't.

Somewhere in the conversation, he asked me, "How is your sunburn, baby?"

"Ah, it's getting better. I'm pretty good now, PawPaw."

"Your mama didn't even tell me you had that until yesterday," he said, frustrated.

"Well, I wasn't sick. I was just miserable for a day. I'm fine now."

"I know!, he exclaimed, "But if she'd told me sooner, I could have told you how to get rid of it."

He went on to tell me that mouthwash will cure a sunburn in a second. Next time, I should remember to put mouthwash on my burn.

"I'll do that, Pop." I assured him, and he was ok with that.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a second, when he told me, "I want to get me about a pound of lead and a line of fishing wire."

"You do? Why?" I asked.

"I'm thinking that if I could make a thousand pieces of pounded lead and attach them to string I could sell them over the internet..." He trailed for a second.

"The internet? How much does that cost?" He quizzed.

"Well, it's really free." I told him.

Then I continued on, "Unless you're selling something. Then, I think EBay will let you sell things for a cut. Why?"

"Because if I can pound out 1,000 pieces of lead and attach them to strings to cure poison ivy, and if we sold them at $100 each, that's $100,000."

"Your math is good, PawPaw. That is right." I told him.

"That's what I thought." He was satisfied with my answer.

His breakfast came in, and he and I discussed everything he could imagine as I fed him eggs and bacon.

I left, promising I'd get him a piece of peach cobbler up there the next day...

And, I did just that.

I sent it with my mother on Tuesday...

I miss him.

His mind, at one time so quick and sure, is today...

Still quick and sure...

Just not always right.

It's ok.

I always let him be right.

It's just easier, and in his mind, when I ask him advice...

He is still being my dad.

Yesterday, I ran by to see him in all the confusion with my mother.

I realized he'd been by himself for two days, and my heart was breaking at the thought.

I ran down the hall of the nursing home to find him...

And, there he was...

At the patient telephone...

Leaving a message for my mother.

Telling her, "I guess you must be somewhere, so call me later."

I sneaked up behind him, "Hey, sweetheart!"

"Come around here and let me look at you," he commanded.

I complied.

Before I could say anything, he went on, "I was about to call you and tell you that on that cobbler, if you're using fresh peaches, you need to add a cup of sugar to them and boil them for a minute."

I giggled.

"It was a little tart, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but you'll do better next time."

He wishes he could be there...

But he can't.

Yeah, PawPaw, about yay big, and around and around and around...

I Miss My Mama...

2010-06-24T20:40:00.003-05:00

My phone rang this morning before 7. Not strange at all, until a check of the caller id told me it was my Mother.

She never calls that early. As ever, when a call comes in from her number at an odd hour, I held my breath, and said a faint, "Hello," into the receiver, awaiting news on my dad.

She sounded horrible. She was so terribly congested. She was coughing and sounded miserable.

When I realized she was calling me to tell me she needed ice water, a task that could have easily been completed by one of my sisters living far closer to her than me, if she really was feeling too badly to even get up to go to the kitchen, I drove right over.

When I walked in, she looked ok. I knew she was feeling really badly, but she looked all-in-all, alright.

I got her ice water and began cooking her some breakfast.

She sat back with her feast, little more than picking at it...

She just didn't feel good.

I got busy doing a few things around the house waiting on her to finish breakfast, and when I had done all the dishes I could do, washed all the clothes I could wash and taken the trash to the street, I went in to find her still working on her eggs and grits.

Her face had started to look a little grey, but she was still working on her breakfast.

I really started to worry about my mother. I've worried over her in the past, but this morning, I was seriously worried about the mortality of my mother for the first time in my life.

I knew I was over-reacting, but I was scared.

In fact, I was more than scared...

I was terrified I was losing my mother.

In those seconds, even though she was right there with me, I began to miss my mother.

I thought about all she had sacrificed for my brother and my sisters and me...

I thought about her love for me...

That little woman loves me more than anyone in this world, and for no reason other than I am her daughter.

She thinks I'm a computer expert...

Because she came to my house one night and saw my MySpace page...

She began to tell everyone that would listen that, "Pam can build websites. On the internet!"

She has always thought I was far more beautiful, more kind, more intelligent and more talented than I have ever been.

She has always been my number one fan.

She's aging now, and there are times I want the advice of mother before I want the advice of anyone else on this earth...

And, yet, I cannot go to her.

If I am sick, I don't let her know...

For she can do nothing about it.

If I'm hurting, I can't share it with her...

Because it would hurt her more.

Sometimes, I am so lonesome for my Mama, my heart hurts.

Out of nowhere, she asked me, "Pam, do you know who I was missing so bad last night?"

"Sure don't, Mama. Who were you missing?"

"My mama. I could feel my mama around me. I wanted my mama. I missed my mama."

Hot tears came from the back of my eyes, as I replied, "I bet you were."

"I was. It was like she was right here. I could feel her. She was trying to make me better. Mama can always fix everything."

A grin of understanding stretched across my face...

There were to two of us...

For completely separate reasons...

Experiencing the exact same emotion.

Yeah, Mama, I understand.

I sometimes miss my mama, too.

Our Home, Louisiana...

2010-06-22T18:53:00.004-05:00

I have been thinking for the past couple of weeks...

Sad, but not really knowing why...

Homesick, and yet, I am home.

Ever so proud, and yet, unable to articulate why.

The truth, people, is I am frightened out of my mind.

Everything I call home is threatened...

Oil is spilling out into our waters at a speed that no one can even calculate...

Our fishermen cannot fish...

Our oilfield workers cannot work...

So many families watching...

Praying...

Waiting...

Hoping for the best.

And, yet, my heart hurts for those 11 families that have given up the watching...

Praying...

Waiting...

Hoping for the best.

May God be with them.

May God grant them peace.

May God grant them speed.

The sad reality is those men are not coming back.

Life, as those families know it, is no more.

And, I am sad.

I have been that wife waiting on news after the flash on the television that something terrible has happened.

I have been that mother anxiously waiting and all the while, not allowing the children to know you are waiting on the news that Daddy won't be making it home...

I have been that family that all the world proclaims as awful because we are dependent upon fossil fuel to...

Clothe our children...

Feed our children...

Shelter our children.

Shame on the public for condemning a man for making a living for his family...

Shame on them.

As ever, Louisiana, the government and the fat oil cats make light of our plight.

I was in the grocery store this week, and I cannot even begin to explain to you what it felt like as I passed the seafood aisle and saw...

No shrimp...

No oysters...

No fresh Gulf seafood at all.

Everything in that store that identified "home" as "home" was not there.

I thought about those families, too.

I thought about the hopelessness that must be in those homes today...

I thought about how it was to be young and raising children, and knowing no other way of doing it...

And, I thought about not knowing when it may end.

Shame on those who attend sporting events, instead of trying to clean up their own mess they've made of our land...

Shame on them.

Once again, Louisiana, we are being called upon to pick ourselves up; dust ourselves off and start all over again.

And, I think of a tiny little boutique sitting on Jackson Street in my little town of Alexandria, Louisiana...

And, two children visiting their aunt that formulated a plan...

Lemonaid for the Gulf...

All proceeds going to clean the brown pelican...

Our state bird...

And, how their aunt, realizing their quest, put her own business on hold and took on a project that, even she, could not have imagined the magnitude...

And, I am refreshed and renewed.

This is our love...

This is our life...

This is our home...

Louisiana.

This is our day...

Come what may...

This is our home.

Louisiana...

2010-06-14T18:17:00.002-05:00

It wasn't until about 5 years ago I realized the weight of my heritage...

Nothing like a disaster to make you realize what's important in life...

In love...

In your soul, right?

I spent my first 40 or so years denying what was within me, acting as though none of it mattered.

The country said we were next to dead last, so we must be, right?

Oh, but how this country was wrong.

So much is right with where I live...

Far more is right than could ever be wrong.

We've seen our share of disaster...

And we've always persevered.

1927 couldn't drown us...

A bitch named Katrina tried, too...

And she failed.

So, now you tell me there's an oil spill that threatens us.

Yeah, it can threaten...

However, it won't win.

No one ever does.

Our people are stronger than anything that gets in our way.

We'll make a new plan.

We always do.

Yeah, people, this state runs so deeply in my veins that even should I try to cut it out...

I'll still bleed its soul.

It's been there all along.

I only wish I had realized the depth of that meaning...

As I was fighting against it.

You can not win against Louisiana.

You may get us down, but you can never get us out.

We'll rise up stronger than we were before...

Because we know no other way to be.

It is in us all...

The spirit...

The soul...

The food...

The music...

Everything that makes us just a cut above the rest.

Ah, Louisiana...

They're trying to wash us away.

But we hold strong.

"Daddy, Play Number 4!"

2010-06-09T17:54:00.003-05:00

"Daddy, play number 4!"

Each time his dad was anywhere near the cd player, we heard that command.

Don't know why, but he loved it...

His 4 year-old frame, stout and chubby and beautiful, for whatever reason, felt the words to this song.

The boy was born with the heart of his mother.

Some would call it his biggest asset...

Some would call it his downfall.

I, personally, would call it one of the biggest gifts of my lifetime.

To literally be able to see yourself growing inside of another human being has to be the most amazing experience anyone could ever hope to see.

I know that boy's heart.

He knows mine.

He's Mama's boy.

I can only hope I've done him justice.

Tomorrow, he turns eighteen.

Yes, we've climbed the mountains...

We've fought...

We've laughed...

We've cried...

We've failed...

We've persevered.

Almost 18 years ago to this very second, I began to feel the first pains of labor...

Half believing it...

Half believing I had simply talked myself into feeling it...

The anticipation of making his acquaintance grew.

I'll never forget climbing into bed that night and holding my hand on my belly as I felt that last pain as I drifted off.

Nor will I forget opening my eyes at 3 the next morning and waiting on the next pain just to be sure it was real and not imagined.

They had told us he was a girl.

For all those months, I had been awaiting the arrival of a boy only to have all my hopes dashed by the image coming through the sonogram.

He came into the world at 1:03 p.m. on Wednesday, June 10, 1992.

The sonogram was ever so wrong.

The boy I had dreamt of was here.

Covered in jet black hair from his head to his toes, he was exactly what I had been waiting on.

Oh my God, people, the absolute honor of watching that child grow has been one I did not deserve...

I did not earn it.

It was granted to me.

I am ever so humbled...

I am ever so grateful...

I am ever so proud to be his mother.

Tomorrow, he becomes what society considers a man.

To me, he is, and always will be, my baby boy.

The one I will forever hear saying, "Daddy, play number 4!"

If You're Reading This...

2010-05-30T20:51:00.007-05:00

"True heroism is remarkably sober, very undramatic. It is not the urge to surpass all others at whatever cost, but the urge to serve others at whatever cost."

- Arthur Ashe

Louisiana Army National Guard

Major Ronald "Wayne" Culver, Jr.

Husband, Father, Son, Brother, Nephew, Cousin, Neighbor, Friend...

HERO.

Lay down his life May 24, 2010 in Iraq in the name of freedom.

United States Army

Spc. Joshua Tomlinson

(Promoted to Sargeant Posthumously)

Husband, Son, Grandson, Brother, Cousin, Nephew, Friend...
HERO.

Lay down his life May 18, 2010 in Afghanistan in the name of freedom.

I know neither of these two men...

I never had the honor of meeting them...

Shaking their hand...

Or wishing them Godspeed as they left behind all they loved and cherised to go fight a war which was much bigger than either of them.

Major Culver is just about my age with children younger than mine.

Sgt. Tomlinson could be my son.

I would imagine on the days of their separate departures their hearts were full of worry over the families they were leaving behind, counting the seconds until they would see them again.

I can imagine they both saw horror over there that you and I cannot even fathom.

I can imagine there were nights with no sleep when the sand threatened to consume them, the immeasurable heat of the desert ready to overtake them at any second.

And, each second of each day, I am sure they thought of home.

They both returned home this week.

I cannot imagine believing in freedom for others as much as believing in freedom for myself...

I cannot imagine fighting for the rights of children on foreign soil as hard as I fight for my the rights of my own...

I cannot imagine the heart of a soldier.

Willing to live and willing to die for those who, sometimes, are the very people fighting against you.

But you continue to fight, believing the heart of the human condition is bigger than the human condition.

How beautiful are the hearts and souls of our men and women fighting so that we can have the right to speak out against their very mission...

Giving us the right to dishonor everything that they honor...

Devaluing their values.

Willing to pay the ultimate price for freedom for all men.

Freedom isn't free, my friends.

Just this week it cost us two of the finest.

Major Culver and Sgt. Tomlinson, I take this opportunity to say thank you.

May your lights continue to shine...

May your mission be accomplished...

May one day all this world live in freedom.

And, when that day comes, the two of you, as well as all those who have gone before you and those who go after you in the name of liberty, will be the victors.

You two have touched me this week.

I just wanted you to know that...

If you're reading this.

To Jesse on His Graduation Day

2010-05-10T21:49:00.007-05:00

My friend, Gracie, is borrowing my blog space today so that she can send her son a special message. It's from her heart.

Love to Jesse, Gracie and Micki today and everyday!

Dear Jesse,

For all your years of life, I have been preparing you for this day. Tonight, we will all watch with hearts full as you accept your high school diploma.

I'm not sure, son, you realize how proud of you I am. I don't know that I can find the words to even tell you.

I suppose one day you will understand as you get to experience graduation from the stands as the parent, instead of the football field as a student. When that day comes, still, I will be there with you. Whether it be in body, or in spirit, on that day, I want you to remember I am just as close then as I am right now.

Jesse, through all my struggles as a single mother, you and your sister have been the reason I refused to give up. When I was so tired I thought I couldn't carry on, I'd catch a glimpse of your grin and your sisters and I would remember what I was working for. When I was overcome, I'd walk into your rooms and see your sweet, sleeping faces and would find the resolve to get up the next day and start all over again.

Many times during your school days, I know you, too, felt like giving up. Teachers would discourage you; principals would discourage you. At times, I know I felt the world was placing too much responsibility on you. I can only imagine how it made you feel.

Somewhere between the madness and the sadness, my boy, you found a way to persevere.

When the world told you you couldn't, you told them to watch you do it.

When the world told you it would never happen, you made it happen.

When the world told you not to try, you became more determined.

That fighting spirit that lives in you is as strong as your loving spirit, Jesse.

Today, you prove them all wrong. Again.

You are such a good man, son. You have grown into more of a man than I hoped you would be all those years ago when you and I sat together as I rocked you to sleep.

Thank you for being my special gift to the world.

Today, as I release you to take your first steps as a man, I have no doubt you will make your mark. You will leave this world in better shape than you found it. It will be a better world because you are here.

I love you, son.

Moreturntee,
Mom

Grandpa Told Me So...

2010-05-09T17:29:00.007-05:00

"Try not to become a man of success, but rather try to become a man of value." ~Albert Einstein

I can still see him...

Black haired and bright eyed and beautiful sitting on his lap...

Kicked back in the recliner, he and his PawPaw spent most every Sunday afternoon from the day the boy was born until that dreaded day he became too much for Paw Paw to handle.

From that point on, he had to take a seat at the end of the sofa.

Mind you, that seat was, and still is, closest to Paw Paw's recliner.

Today, that recliner sits alone, the days of Paw Paw filing it, becoming a memory.

When I tell you I was literally forced to fight the child when it was time to leave is putting it mildly...

The boy didn't want to come home.

Somewhere, in his little three year old mind, Paw Paw WAS home...

His dad and I were just a little irritation he had to endure until it was time to go back to my parents.

It was in that recliner they solved the worlds problems...

Talked about which teams were going to the Superbowl...

What they wanted to eat for supper...

About the love of Jesus...

And, how to repair a lawnmower.

His eyes were always captivated by the Mason ring on his Paw Paw's right hand.

"Paw Paw, can I wear your ring?," he'd ask each time.

"No, baby, this ring is too big for you. I can't let you lose it. I've got plans for this ring one day," was always the usual reply.

"It sure is pretty, Paw Paw," he'd say in amazement.

"You like that ring, baby?"

"I sure do."

"One day, I'll let you wear it. But, not today, ok?"

Of course, he NEVER argued with his Paw Paw and just,somehow, seemed to understand, and would let it go.

Until the next time.

The love between that boy and that little old man amazes me.

The two of them, honestly, can be the two most stubborn people in the world.

Somehow, they just bring out the best in each other.

I watched the boy tear up in frustration five years ago when I had to sit him down and teach him two new words...

Parkinson's Disease.

Over the months it took us to accept, I watch Paw Paw's "baby" become his Paw Paw's "buddy".

They faced the illness together, the two of them...

The boy turning into Paw Paw's legs...

And eyes...

And hands.

Yes, that recliner full of all the memories sits empty today.

Its former occupant now resides down the street with 109 of the most beautiful people on earth.

It was there we found my mother today to celebrate Mothers Day.

As we walked with them back to Paw Paw's room after lunch, a moment of realization hit him...

The boy and his sister stayed behind, as Grandma and I were sent to the house on a mission and dared not return until it was complete.

When we got back, precious cargo in hand, I called the two of them from the room, as Grandma entered to deliver the package.

As we walked back in, the boy heard these words, "So, big week this week, huh?"

"Yes, sir." The boy answered.

As he handed the boy a little red velvet bag, his Paw Paw said to him, "Well, let's see if this is big enough to make it too big, how 'bout it?"

I saw that boys eyes squint, half-confused, half-knowing in disbelief, as he reached for the bag and answered him, "Ok."

As he opened the bag, frantic to get the tissue paper out of his way, he could only stare at it as he pulled up a golden ring with a red stone with the letter "G" inscribed in gold.

"Oh, Paw Paw, thank you. It's perfect."

"I told you I had plans for that ring, didn't I, son?"

"Yes, sir, you sure did," He responded through teary eyes.

We all knew he had big plans...

Grandpa told us so.

Find Your Wings...

2010-05-04T17:56:00.003-05:00

Tomorrow morning at approximately 5:59 a.m., I will walk up the stairs, turn on the upstairs hall light, open his door, peek into his room, and for the last time, I will say, "6 o'clock, baby. Time to wake up. You have to go to school."

That thought has been swirling through my mind all day today, and I'm not sure which is more bittersweet to me...

The first time I ever uttered those words, as I planned to release my baby on a world far bigger than he...

Or the last time I'll ever utter those words, as I release my baby on a world far bigger than he.

The baby boy who was placed into my arms all those years ago; a head full of jet black hair, filled with the promises of all life's possibilities stands before me today...

A man with a head full of jet black hair, filled the promises of all life's possibilities.

The world sees a dapper, handsome, strapping being standing over six feet tall, and...

I see my sweet chubby ball of wonder, full of laughter and sweetness and an innocense beyond measure...

I see the one I had to sit in the kitchen floor with his breakfast and wait on him to crawl over to take a bite before moving on to his next momentary adventure...

The one I watched capture the hearts of everyone around him because to be near him, was to be entranced...

He was a man's man, even at the age of 3...

Sitting at his place at the breakfast bar, trying to drink coffee with his Uncle Paul, because "working men" drink coffee...

And making the most awful of all faces when it touched his lips, because, try as he might...

He just didn't have a taste for it.

I see the little boy asking his uncle in amazement, "Uncle Smitty, you're a real cowboy, aren't you?"

And, grinning from ear-to-ear when his uncle let him know that he lived in Texas, and all real cowboys come from Texas.

At one time, he was gonna "put on his light-up shoes and run all the way to Texas".

I see that little boy that worked so hard to keep up with his PawPaw, step for step...

Who, just today, slowed his steps down a bit so his PawPaw could keep up with him...

As he turned to his PawPaw and asked him if he'd be his special guest on Tuesday to watch him walk across the field and claim his diploma.

I see so much when I look at that child, but mostly what I see when I look at that boy is simple...

I see one of the two greatest gifts I have ever been given.

So, tomorrow, my boy ends but one phase of his journey...

And quickly begins another.

It is my hope that I have given him the tools he needs;

The faith that will be required to travel it;

And, the insight to know that life is 50% choices...

And, 50% chance...

And, the ability to know when to make the choice...

And, when to chance it.

Oh, baby boy, we've had a long walk through life...

We've run...

We've stumbled...

We've fallen...

And, each time, we've gotten back up and started all over again.

May your finishes always be as strong as your starts;

May you find success in your failures;

May you always know the grace of God;

May God always grant you His mercy;

May you always know the difference in the two.

Before you can fly, baby boy, you have to jump...

But, it is in the free fall where you will...

Find your wings.

And...I Missed You...

2010-03-21T17:43:00.002-05:00

Dude...

Maggie and I had some fun this morning.

Without giving it away, just let me tell you this much...

She gave a poor girl hell...

Because THAT girl was in the WRONG place...

At the RIGHT time.

Somewhere between the outrageous laughter and thinking I was sure to wet my pants, somewhere I had the thought...

"When was the last time you felt this free and had so much fun?"

And, without hesitation, I answered myself...

"July 19, 2009."

And, I missed you.

My beautiful friend, life has changed so much for me since then.

So many times I've needed YOUR voice...

And, found silence.

And, I missed you.

I think you've moved forward in your journey.

I know I don't feel you around me anymore...

Which leaves so very lonely.

And, I miss you.

You're not in my air anymore.

You are; however, in my heart.

Just sometimes, I want you in my air.

And, I miss you.

You wouldn't even recognize the life I'm living right now.

And, dude, honestly, it's almost better for you this way.

You'd be an absolute wreck right now worrying.

But, the fact that I can't call you up and TELL you not to worry...

That I am fine...

Breaks my heart.

And, I miss you.

Sometimes, I wonder why it was that you decided that I would stay...

And, you would go.

Even though I know that answer.

Knowing what I know, it still doesn't help.

And, I miss you.

This hole in my heart, without doubt, I now realize will never fill.

It gets easier, but it's still there, and sometimes...

I'm back to where I was at 3 a.m. that morning.

And, I miss you.

You are never to be forgotten...

You are to always be loved...

You are to always be remembered...

Even though...

I miss you.

And, I always will.

I love you, my friend...

Today...

Yesterday...

Tomorrow...

Forever...

I will miss you.

Snow......(Hey, Oh!)

2010-03-08T20:09:00.002-06:00

It all started innocently enough.

My friend and I were joking about her trip to the movies, and I mentioned she needed to get a box of Snowcaps...

Because I like them.

In a rush, it all came back to me like it happened yesterday...

So, a few years ago...

Pre-husband number two...

When I dated this guy that WAS the total package...

He was tall (And, I mean TALL, people!)...

He was handsome...

He was kind...

He was totally in tune to me.

Or what he thought was me, but I digress...

One weekend, I was at his house and we went to rent movies...

I saw Snowcaps.

And, people, I saw that dark chocolate candy with its little white candy sprinkles, and I, literally, turned into a kid in a candy shop...

"C! We have to buy Snowcaps!" I shouted without shame.

"Ok," he responded, without batting an eye...

And, there is where his demise began.

Seriously.

He shouldn't have paid so close attention...

Which, in hind site, makes no sense, when I think about how my heart swelled the night Husband Number 2 walked up to me at the ballpark and retold the story of how he had walked to every concession stand asking for a Three Musketeers Bar, just for me, and how none of them had it...

Which led me to my thought process I'm typing out right now...

Sometimes, it just doesn't matter, men.

No matter how many boxes of Snowcaps you have...

It just doesn't matter.

Sometimes, we like the guy that has no Snowcaps at all...

And, it doesn't even matter.

We may love him, absent the dark chocolate treat.

Don't try too hard, guys...

A man trying too hard is a complete turn off..

When you're trying to "earn" us.

Now, once you "have" us...

Each and EVERY attempt will be noted into the memory bank. (See Three Musketeers memory noted above!)

A man trying too hard, to me, indicates weakness.

I don't like weakness.

I don't allow it in myself.

I certainly wouldn't allow it in you...

Even though, as a human being, I KNOW we all have weakness.

Don't expose yours so soon...

It's a deal breaker.

Which leads me to this afternoon...

I passed my "friend's" house and noticed a for sale sign.

Now, people, we've maintained a "no explanation needed" relationship for five years now...

But, the thought of his moving without my knowledge...

Offended me.

To the point that, out of character, I dialed his number...

"So, I took a wrong turn and circled by your house today and saw a realtor sign. You're moving?"

And, he explained to me that it's not him. It's his neighbor. And, we joked about the notes he should post to his front door about perspective buyers...

And, the call ended with empty promises of follow up calls...

Which each of us know will never happen.

This guy has no Snowcaps.

Not one.

For whatever reason, it works for me.

Maybe because I don't invest in his Snowcaps.

I don't know.

So, there's this guy...

And, I think he just may have a few boxes of Snowcaps...

Not sure how to figure it out, but I'm pretty sure...

I can find out.

I think I may like his Snowcaps.

Only time will tell...

Take Off!!!

2010-02-27T20:58:00.002-06:00

I remember in the 80's hearing this song on my radio over and over...

I slightly remember giggling.

It must have impressed me, because as I heard it play, I realized I knew every word.

Doesn't matter.

In 1980's Alexandria, Louisiana, we did not have computers in our house...

Let alone the three I have in mine now.

In 1980's Alexandria, Louisiana, we did not have the internet...

Like I have now.

In 1980's Alexandria, Louisiana, I could never have guessed my kinship with this song was foreshadowing what was coming in my life...

An eclectic, amazing group of people that haled from the "Great White North"...

And, tomorrow, I hear my country and their country are dueling...

A battle of wills, on ice, that will determine the victor...

The world's best, if you will.

And, people, you just gotta forgive me if I am cheering for the maple leaf.

I can't help it.

And, if you don't understand where I'm coming from...

You may as well just...

Take off!

Tomorrow, I am honorary Canadian...

Bwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!

Oh, Canada!!!

Take off!!!

Over the Rainbow...

2010-02-17T17:29:00.007-06:00

People, I just don't check my personal email anymore these days. It's not that I don't want to. Fact is, by the end of the day, when I've answered a thousand work-related emails...

I just don't care anymore.

This weekend; however, between the snow and Mardi Gras, I gave a few minutes of my time to my Hotmail account...

Snuggled somewhere in there, I found an email from my aunt...

Which included a link...

Um, apparently, my family has a website of their very own...

Who knew, right?

So, as any good computer nerd will do, I followed the link and got LOST in the website for a while...

While there, I wasn't just wasting time, because, well, you know me.

No, I wasn't wasting time, I was...

Stealing old photos and saving them to my computer.

This was one of them I found there. I love this picture, because in it, I see all that was mostly important to me growing up...

I see my cousin, Sherry, who is five days older than me, and even though we really didn't love one another that much when we were young...

Is my greatest champion in adulthood.

I see my sister, Beverly, two years my senior, who, all holes barred, is probably closer to me than anyone on the planet, and I don't even tell her that REMOTELY enough.

Behind us all, I see my grandparents' Winnebago...

And, people, let me tell you something...

That Winnebago was EVERY grandchild's closest friend in the 1970's.

It was in that motor home we plotted, and planned and acted...

Just that little bit of that Winnebago I can see brings back so much.

I remember Christmases and extension cords...

Easters and Easter baskets...

Taffy and Kelly...

Sherry and Gary...

Beverly and me...

And, I remember Robbie.

I remember us all scripting our annual "Wizard of Oz" play...

We did it every year.

I don't remember much about it, except that somewhere in my Grandmother's kid-unfriendly (and, not unfriendly in that bad way)house, we found a ginormous rubber ball that would signal the entrance of Glenda, the Good Witch.

I remember Beverly was always Toto. (Don't worry. We had but 4 cast members. She got to be someone else, too!)

I believe I was always the Scarecrow...

And, Robbie was The Wizard.

I remember Robbie holding up a blanket and demanding, "Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain!"

I can't remember our play ever ending...

I can't remember our play ever beginning...

It just was.

Four cousins, one heart.

Oh, I remember that Winnebago...

I remember MeeMee...

I remember DeeDee...

I remember Jackie...

I remember Greenwood.

I remember fire escapes and garden hoes...

Gardens and gas tanks...

Garages that went unused...

Cash registers and "homemade" meat...

Pastures and farms...

I remember Mr. and Mrs. Bice...

I remember the First Church of Greenwood...

I remember Kelly's Truck Stop and peach cobbler...

I remember Milton.

I remember walking to the store...

I remember going to the park and the three little "rocking" gadgets they had...

I remember Waskom and grocery shopping...

I remember going to Aunt Ruby's to swim...

I remember the Mimosa tree...

Mostly, people...

I remember love.

Love surrounded us and encompassed us in that little wood frame house in Greenwood, Louisiana.

All of us, cousins...

Concerned not about the THEN...

But, about what awaited us...

Over the rainbow.

These Are the Days...

2010-02-14T16:41:00.002-06:00

I was just beginning to get steaks ready to marinate for my Valentine Dinner with the two most important people in the world, my daughter and my son, when the back door opened far earlier than I anticipated.

I looked back, and as the boy walked through the door, I asked, "The parade over already? You're kidding me."

He looked up a little sheepishly. "Nope. It's done." He went on, "Someone's here that wants to see you."

Now, people, let me tell you that I had a hard time coming up with the thought of anyone I could POSSIBLY want to see this afternoon, but, like a mother does, I said hesitantly, "Ok. Tell 'em to come in."

And, he walked through the door...

A little taller than the last time I saw him, but that infectious grin on his face lit my world!

"Jack! What are you doing?"

His grin grew even bigger, "I came to see my Miss Pam."

I hugged that boy tight. He was truly a beautiful sight.

In that time that I hugged him, I remembered him...

And all the nights he, and 10 more of their closest friends, spent on my living room floor, in my den floor, in the boy's bedroom floor...where ever they could find a place to land for the night...

All those years ago.

I remembered golf carts and golf lessons and fireworks and Sheriff's departments...

And, laughter...

More than anything...

I remembered their laughter.

I couldn't keep food in the house.

There were never less than five 13 and 14 year-old boys in my house at any given time.

They thought my fried chicken was the best they had ever had, and begged me to open a restaurant, because we could "be rich" if we did.

They would show up at the door at seven in the morning or ten at night, knowing it would always be open to them.

And, it always was.

All those boys, each of them, lived together; went to church together; went to school together; laughed together...

They were the biggest motley crew you'd ever seen...

Sweet Jack the youngest of the bunch...

Braces on his teeth, and a smile that could light the world.

Ask any of those boy the laws about shooting fireworks in THIS parish, and they can quote it to you...

Because, you see, it was MY house the deputy brought them all to when they found them lighting firecrackers and tossing them off their golf carts...

"Fireworks can be shot no less than 250 feet of a business or residence in Rapides Parish."

(I made them recite that to me over and over and over again that day before I'd let them go home, and I do believe THAT was one time they all wanted to go home!)

Oh, all those boys...

They made me crazy when they all stormed me.

Cooking, cleaning and keeping up with them was a JOB...

But, I loved every second of it.

Not so much then as I do today...

I'd LOVE to have those boys back in my floors today...

I'd LOVE to hear their laughter...

Just one more time.

Those are the days I remember.

Glitter in the Air...

2010-02-13T18:12:00.002-06:00

I dialed his phone just now.

It's always a coin toss...

He may answer...

He may not.

It's a ritual we're both accustomed to.

Somehow, we're both tuned in to when the other REQUIRES an answer.

As the phone continued, unanswered, I thought this time may be a time he wouldn't answer...

And, no big, really.

I knew he'd call me back when he realized I'd called.

Amazingly, his "What're ya' doin'?" resounded in my ear, rather than his voice mail.

"That's not the question," I responded. "I called to see what you're doin'. Ya' workin' later?"

"You know it."

"What time are you done tonight?"

"11."

"You patrolin' later?"

"Nope. I'm done at 11."

"Good. I'm takin' you to brunch tomorrow, since you're the closest thing I have to a valentine, ok?"

"Yep. I'm in."

"Nice. Call me when you wake up."

"I will."

"Ok. Be careful. See you in the mornin'."

"See you tomorrow."

And, just like that, the conversation was over...

Sometimes, I'm so grateful he and I were brought together.

It is so beautiful to have a person of the opposite sex to just call on...

Who, without question, will always be there...

No matter what.

Then, there are times, like tonight...

I wonder if we aren't the other's biggest disservice of a lifetime.

Each being the emotional foot-hold of the other...

Until none other is needed.

I admit it: I don't move forward too much, because I don't have to.

I've got a rock-solid man in my life who will step in and right all my wrongs...

Move my furniture...

Hook up my appliances...

Listen to me cry.

Just last week I called him...

Sobbing through the phone, I told him what was going on, and I will never forget the way he answered me.

Ever.

Two marriages; countless "boyfriends"; friends; whatever...

And, he made a statement to me that NONE of them has ever said...

"We knew this was going to happen."

And, in that conversation, I realized what friendship is.

He never said, "you"...

He said "we"...

And, for the first time in my lifetime, I realized I wasn't alone.

He's with me.

Always.

Sometimes, I'm tempted at the thought of just "resting" there...

Sometimes, I think he's tempted at the thought of just "resting" with me.

It would be a peaceful rest, too, I do believe.

Sometimes, I allow myself to wonder what would happen if we moved forward...

He knows me.

He knows the good...

He knows the bad...

He knows the ugly...

And, he's still here.

No, I love him.

But, I'm not in love with him...

He loves me.

But, he's not in love with me...

There's a difference.

A few months ago, he and I went on a "real" date...

Complete with he and I both knowing we'd be together for the night...

And, when it came down to it...

Neither of us could do it.

We came straight home, neither of us acknowledging what had just NOT happened.

Oh, friends, yes, I LOVE him.

I'm just not in love with him.

And, I wish I could be...

Almost as much as I wish I could find his perfect match...

He is so beautiful.

He needs someone equally special.

I can't seem to find someone that I think is "deserving" of him.

But, I never quit looking.

She's out there, and I'll find her...

One day.

Just not today...

Or yesterday.

Or tomorrow.

Today, I'll just throw a fistful of glitter in the air...

For tonight.

Unloved...

2010-02-12T12:25:00.005-06:00

To Write Love on Her Arms Day begins today.

As I awoke this morning, I realized today was the day, and before I even checked the amount of snow that had mysteriously fallen last night, I hunted down my Sharpie and went to work inking out that beautiful, four-letter word on my arm.

True to form, I screwed it up. The tiny, little heart I tried to draw just under the word "love" turned into some sort of a circle with a tiny tail.

Truer to form, needing perfection (or something close to it), I searched my cabinets for something that could take it off before I snapped my picture and posted it to my Facebook wall. I ended up with the Resolve, and, voila! The genetically deformed heart disappeared...

As I began to edit the image on my computer, I noticed the scar there, just to the left of the letter "L"...

And, I remembered.

A little more than embarassed to post the picture, as I realized some may recognize that as the type scar it actually is, I started to cut it out of the picture. Then, I thought, "How hypocritcal can you be? THIS is exactly what it's all about."

And, again, I remembered.

I went back to that horrifically unrecognizable dark place I was living inside a little more than a year ago.

This time, it was different. This time, I saw that place from afar...

And, this time, that horrifically dark place was unrecognizable to me from the outside, looking in.

So many have and do find themselves where I found myself back those months ago.

Disillusioned...

Dissatisfied...

Disengaged...

Disenfranchised from life.

From all aspects of life...

Family...

Friends...

Co-workers.

Feeling isolated and alone in a world that seems so very big and so very cold...

That would keep on spinning, whether they were here or not.

And, think it would be a better place if they were not.

Not taking the time to realize those they love so fiercely love them, too.

Ashamed of what they're feeling, and too afraid to admit things are really just that bad.

Never knowing that a few months can make all the difference.

I am living proof to all of them that they are wrong.

If a split second can make a difference, a year can make a world of difference.

If a smile can change a split second...

Love can save a life.

No one is unloved.

No one should feel unloved.

Hope springs enternal...

Where there is love.

Falling Free...

2010-02-10T05:29:00.000-06:00

I am quite honored to be participating in my BFF, Maven's, "Lady Marmelade" this week. Stop by and take a look. Since Monday, Maven has highlited some truly amazing, talented women and their writing. I've learned something new each day since the project began, and I can't wait to see what's coming up the rest of the week. Stop by and see it for yourself.

Oh, and, don't know if you've heard this or not, but The New Orleans Saints ARE the Super Bowl champs!!!!!

WHO DAT?

WE DAT!

BELIEVE DAT!

YES, BABY!

BLESS YOU, BOYS...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I remember the scent of him as he kissed me. It was a fragrance I had never smelled before...

And, probably, will never smell again.

Fitting.

Where we were...

What I was doing...

What we were doing...

Had an aroma of something I had never done before.

I was before him, newly divorced, wanting my freedom but simultaneously wanting the familiarity of my life back...

In a hotel, just off the interstate in Monroe, for the first time, in 14 years, I knew what it was to know someone other than the one I had spent the last 11 years of my life building a life with, only to watch it fall.

His kiss was deep and his touch was gentle. Near mechanically, I followed his lead...

Not particularly enjoying myself, but knowing this was a necessary step in moving on, and painfully aware of my vulnerability and inexperience.

The town, the room, the man, all so alien to me, and yet, I was able to maintain as though it were familiar.

And, there in that room, somewhere between darkness and daylight, for the second time in my lifetime, I became a woman.

Sleeping only for a few minutes at a time that night, stirring in the darkness with the thought resounding through my head that life had changed and that the one sleeping beside me was foreign.

I didn't know the feel of his skin...

The perfections and imperfections of his body...

The sound of his slumbered breathing in the darkness.

Life, as I knew it, was never coming back.

By morning...

I wanted to take it all back.

I knew I couldn't.

Life had changed for me.

My entire definition had changed.

I was no longer a wife and mother.

As of today, I was a mother...

And, a "friend", which each time since then, has been the term I've chosen to introduce anyone in which I've had romantic interest.

I was no longer the woman who kept the house up and did the laundry and cooked the meals...

A stirring had been awakened in me.

I was, in the truest sense of the word, a woman.

I was desired in a way I had never known.

I desired in a way I had never known.

I was different.

I had found freedom.

The road I was traveling was different.

For months and months he and I wandered that path together.

The awkwardness traded itself for sweet surrender.

His touch became one in which I longed for when it wasn't there.

And, I was falling free.

And, loving every minute of it.

He taught me to live again...

To love again...

To take the time to know myself.

Like all good things, it came to an end.

And, once again, I was in an unknown land.

Learning that the only thing I could count on was that I could count on nothing...

But me.

I was independent.

My house was mine; my job was mine; my friends were mine; my car was mine; my money was mine; my debts were mine...

In this big world, I had me.

In this big world, I was so very alone...

And, I was so very, very fragile.

Fragile, yet, falling free.

I stumbled...

I faltered...

I found my footing, and eventually, I stood tall again.

And, then one night, as if by magic, there he was.

In that instant, all the confidence I had spent the last three years building was as though it had never happened...

Weak in the knees and stammering for something intriguing to say, I turned to meet him.

I knew at the second our eyes locked that he was "the one".

I knew I was going to marry him.

Our courtship was short and intense and passionate and the most beautiful thing I have ever known.

We moved in synergy.

Each knowing the other's next move before they made it...

Knowing the other's thought before they spoke it.

Knowing the other's feelings hidden behind their eyes.

Within just months, he became my husband.

Our life together was an experiment in sweet agony.

A most beautiful disaster.

It was insanely beautiful.

But, it was a disaster, indeed.

Finding a soulmate in someone with whom you don't share values is a tragedy.

Without doubt, it's a cruel and harsh reality in this rollercoaster ride we call life.

You are sentenced to a life in prison chains, your heart comparing every flutter that may pass through it to that which was once so pure...

Comparing it to exactly what it was you felt when life was beautiful.

And, you were falling free.

My friends, nothing will ever compare.

Ever.

As the months turned into years, I bathed in the pain because that was the only thing left for me to hold onto, and my need to hold on was greater than my need to move on.

I've spent my time since then rebuilding.

Never, ever do I look back on that time and not grieve...

I grieve for him because I know the tortured soul he's become.

I grieve for me because I am the tortured soul I've become.

I grieve for what might have been..

What could have been...

What should have been.

And, I grieve because I know, without doubt, that even if the planets perfectly aligned and the opportunity arose, I could never go back.

It is in the past.

And, it's never coming back.

I could wait from now until forever, and it will never be back.

So, I continue on...

Probably taking more time to decide to move than I really should.

The realization that I can't trust my judgment precedes the desires of my heart.

Knowing that each time my signals have said, "Go."...

They should have been screaming, "Stop!"

Freedom isn't free, friends.

It comes with a price.

You can spend your life alone.

Or you can try again.

And, there's no guarantee that to try won't cost more of you than you are willing to give.

You just may pay with your heart.

Although it sounds so tempting and ever-so beautiful...

Mercy me.

To be falling free.

You Don't Know What Love Is...

2010-02-09T19:04:00.002-06:00

"You don't know what love is."

I've made this statement over and over and over again the past few months to my son.

And, I'm right.

He doesn't know what love is.

He doesn't even have a clue.

At the tender age of 17, I thought I owned the world.

He doesn't realize it, but I've BEEN his female version.

His dad has BEEN him.

The boy says, "You don't know."

Oh, honey, I know.

How very well I know.

Your dad knows.

All too well, he knows.

Too young to know different, and too stubborn to listen to the voice of opposition, his dad and I began our journey.

I can't say it's one I'd take back, because if I did, I'd lose so much of what makes me "me".

I can tell you; however, that now that I'm older...

Had I have STAYED the course...

The life I love now...

Is one I'd never missed...

If I never knew different.

Oh, you don't know what love is.

You don't know.

I know you want to THINK you know...

And, I try to tip-toe around your heart, which lies on your sleeve, but son...

I get really tired of it.

I KNOW the road ahead of you.

You'll just have to forgive me if I don't like it...

I was too stupid to realize I didn't like it when I was on it.

It took me years upon years to realize I didn't like that road...

And, I destroyed your sister's life...

I destroyed YOUR life...

I destroyed your dad's life...

I destroyed my life...

At that realization.

Oh, son, you don't know.

You think you know.

And, in all honesty, with the amount of love you are capable of feeling, sweet boy, maybe you DO know.

Trust Mama.

What you are capable of is not enough.

Life takes more than that.

My baby boy, you don't know.

Unwritten....

2010-01-29T20:13:00.003-06:00

In 2005, I embarked upon a journey.

Newly separated from my husband, getting a divorce for the SECOND time, which in my family...

In my town...

Is a big No-No.

Big time.

Feeling as though I must be the world's biggest failure.

Defeated.

Alone.

Scared.

One day, I turned on the car and a song began to play.

The artist was new, but the beat was fresh, and as heavy as my heart was at the time, I couldn't help but get caught up in the music.

Somewhere between the beat and the choir singing in the background, I began to really HEAR the lyrics...

"Today is where your book begins. The rest is still unwritten."

And, from there, this song became my anthem.

"I break traditions. Sometimes my tries are outside the lines."

Hope sprung eternal from somewhere within me that I couldn't describe.

This girl that was singing GOT it.

She KNEW me.

"Staring at the blank page before you. Open up the dirty window. Let the sun illuminate the words that you cannot find."

Her words would pull me through the next year like I can't even begin to describe without sounding like a raving lunatic.

I guess sometimes, to really GET it, we have to be so down, only someone who's been there can understand. And, we are truly touched when we feel like there is someone out there who DOES get it.

Over and over and over again during that time, when that voice inside tried to tell me I was a failure, I'd plug in this cd, and I'd realize I was just fine.

Absolutely. fine.

"No one else can feel it for you. Only you can let it in. No one else...No one else can speak the words on your lips."

The rest is still unwritten.

Jump forward to two nights ago...

Now, people, each year my company holds its annual event in Las Vegas, and although we really look forward to going, it's an anticipation mixed with a little dread.

At least on my part.

By the week before time to go, I am a flutter of excitement, my phone ringing non-stop, and me dialing others, just to say, "I get to SEE YOU next week!"

BUT, I am an insomniac, as you may or may not realize.

Las Vegas is two full hours behind my local time.

Knowing that my eyes automatically open at 3 a.m. at home, my eyes are opening at 1 a.m. in Las Vegas...

Add to that the stress of knowing that we start at 7 a.m., which in my company's time, means 6:45, and knowing that we go until 11 p.m. or 12 a.m. each night...

Means, yeah. Pam will get one hour of sleep each night while she's there.

My obsessive disorder that dictates I must NEVER be late for ANYTHING, when coupled with the stress of knowing my company demands I be 15 minutes early for EVERYTHING...

Well, THAT part's a neurotic nightmare, at best.

This year, as the date approached, two additional strikes were against me...

My son was hospitalized the day before I was scheduled to leave.

And...

I had the worst cold known to man.

It's was a recipe for disaster.

But, as all of us who are fortunate enough to work for the company I call my employer, I arose in time to make my Tuesday morning flight, and as ever, by the time the plane touched down, I was ready and on go!

I was there, and I'd make the best of it.

My company was there to help me make the best of it.

When I tell you people that I truly love my job and what I do, I am not stretching the truth even a little.

In a world where most people hate to get up and go to work and hate the people they are working with...

Me?

Nah.

I wake up each morning ready to do my job and loving the beautiful people that surround me that are there to help me do it.

For someone who works from either a computer at home, or behind the wheel of a car, I have more camaraderie that most who go to a building full of people every morning.

Each day, I talk to my co-workers within my state and across the country, and because we all understand the work each of us must put into our jobs, we support one another...

We get one another by.

We are all very fortunate that the ones who are charged with managing us understood, even years ago as the company was forming, that we would NEED that companionship with one another and did all they could do to ensure we had it.

And, have it, we do.

The culmination of the week's events happens the night before we leave Vegas.

This is the night the awards are given to the top performers, and we, as employees, are treated like royalty...

Even little, tiny me, who did vow to do better next year.

This year, after the dinner, the stage went dark and an undefined voice announced, "Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, Natasha Bedingfield."

OMG.

OMG.

OMG.

I. lost. my. mind.

What?

My idol?

The one who got me through was here?

Are you KIDDING me?

But they weren't. She appeared on the stage, and I was in awe.

And, once again, her words, mixed with the classes I had taken over the last two days and the messages of encouragement and belief from upper management began to, once again, speak to me.

And, they speak to me even now.

Yes. I am back from Vegas.

Still sick, but strategizing...

Ready to get back to work.

Because once again, those words spoke to me.

Today is where my book begins.

The rest is still unwritten.

Get Back, Honky Cat...

2010-01-22T20:29:00.002-06:00

"I found a penny today

laying on the ground.

But it's not just a penny,

this little coin I've found.

Found pennies come from heaven,

that's what my Grandpa told me.

He said Angels toss them down.

Oh, how I loved that story.

He said when an Angel misses you,

they toss a penny down;

Sometimes just to cheer you up,

to make a smile out of your frown.

So, don't pass by that penny

when you're feeling blue.

It may be a penny from heaven

that an Angel's tossed to you."

That email came to me from my best friend today with some message saying something to the effect of,

"Thought I should send this to you. How many hundreds of dollars in change have you found lately?"

Funny.

This song has run through my head over and over and over and OVER again since all the madness started in July...

The resouding phrase?

"Oh! A change is gonna do me good!"

Coins...

Change...

Yep. Things have changed.

Those coins on the driveway are just proof to me.

He's here, friends.

Maybe even moreso than before.

He IS here.

He cheers.

He laughs.

He chastises.

He IS here.

Never, EVER should you doubt it.

He's calling for CHANGE!

I'm trying, ever so diligently to listen...

Seriously.

I am.

Then, he does something silly like locks a door on me, and I FORGET I'm supposed to be serious, and I start to laugh.

OH! A change is gonna do me good!

I got your change, brother.

Just you wait and see...

Although, I suspect you already knew that.

I've listened.

I'm ready.

We're on the move, buddy!

You ready to drink whiskey from a bottle of wine?

OH! A change is gonna do me good!

How Can You Mend a Broken Heart...

2010-01-19T17:29:00.002-06:00

Ah, people, we're all tired, right?

I can see it...

I can hear it.

It's not in what you say or do...

It's in what you don't say...

Or don't do.

Friends, we're all dealing.

All our lives are on one level or another.

Your life is either at "low"...

Or your life is at "level"...

Or your life is at "high"...

Which, in my opinion, is far more dangerous than "low" or "level" any day.

"High" is at the level in which we lose...

"Level" is a mediocre center of the universe in which we all descend into "low".

At least when we're at low, there's no where else to go but up, right?

I've become well-accustomed to "low".

In fact, sometimes, I think I like it here.

Far better than at "up" or "level"...

Nah.

"Up" and "level" are places from which to fall.

I don't particularly like falling.

I'd rather sanctimoniously plan my downward spiral.

At least that way I don't lose my footing, right?

If no one sees me fall, there's no one there to laugh, right?

I like it that way.

A few, I let in.

A very, very few.

Heartbreak is tough.

The lessons that come with it are even moreso.

Sometimes, we're able to spread our wings and try again...

It is in those times that we are able to define just who we are.

It's not how many times you fall, friends...

It's how many times you pick yourself up...

Dust yourself off..

And, start all over again.

I've tried...

I've succeeded...

And, in my success, realized I've failed.

I've failed...

Tucked my tail under...

Accepting life "is what it is"...

And, somewhere...

Somehow...

The lesson was realized in the darkness...

Through a broken heart, a battle was won.

How many times do we try?

Over and over and over again...

I guess.

Until we, at long last, feel we're "on top".

Tell me, just how do you mend a broken heart?

I don't have the answer.

I just know that my spirit keeps believing...

Keeps longing...

Keeps trying...

To save me from my own...

Broken heart.

I'm Movin' On...

2010-01-16T12:31:00.002-06:00

Since Monday, I've been keeping a secret.

Not so much because it's a secret, but more because...

Well, I'm a little embarrassed to say it.

Tomorrow, all I own will be packed in boxes or on trailers, and...

I'm moving.

Now, I aint' goin' far.

In fact, it's less than a half mile down the street.

Me, the Queen of Unpacking is...

Packing.

Seriously.

I hate this house I'm in.

I've hated it since the first box was laid on the floor.

I've HATED it.

Since July, I've been plagued by bad times.

Poor house is not to blame, but, well, it takes the blame...

For every dark day;

Dark cloud;

Dark month...

I blame this house.

On Monday, I just decided to see what was out there...

By end of business on Monday, I was the newest townhouse dweller on the bayou...

I've downsized...

I've traded the big back yard for a house with light and a feeling that I can move about.

As of Sunday night, I will call a new place "home".

I look around the present walls that confine me, and I see...

Darkness.

I remember back in July, still surrounded by boxes and the smell of cardboard that at 10 a.m...

I turned off all electronics, lit candles and sat in silence for one hour.

My body was here, but my heart was in Merrickville.

Over the next few weeks, I giggled as doors closed when they shouldn't have...

And a collection of spare change began to evolve on my driveway, carpets and patio without explanation.

And, with every giggle, I hurt.

I blame this house for that darkness.

It's not its fault, but I have to leave it for that reason.

I have to move on.

Surely, he goes with me when I leave for the last time.

He doesn't like this house...

He likes me, right?

Nearly six months ago, I sat right where I am at this second, and he and I had our last conversation.

"Why are you still awake when it's almost time for you to get up?"

As of tomorrow, I'm movin' on...

All the darkness.

All the sorrow.

All the doubt.

It leaves me tomorrow.

In its place, I will be surrounded by...

Light....

Comfort...

Understanding.

Him.

As of tomorrow, I am new again.

Thankfully, he needs no packing.

He just fits right there in my heart.

Wherever my heart is, there he is also.

Swiller, I love you.

Think you could help me lift this box?

Cause, buddy, you and me are moving on...

Who Are You?

2010-01-12T17:31:00.005-06:00

Who are you?

The question seems innocent enough...

Although it's difficult to pack 25 years of life into one explanation.

Wanna know who I am?

I am a 43 year-old woman who, in her head, is still 18...

It is only when I look in the mirror that I realize I no longer am.

I am...

A mother.

A sister.

A daughter.

A friend.

An employee.

I am as confused today as I was in 1984, and yet, I realize 1984 no longer matters.

I have loved.

I have lost.

I have been up.

I have been down.

I have cried.

I have laughed.

I've been the victor.

I've been the loser.

I am...

Happy with who I am today.

In fact, most days, I believe if I were a total stranger to me that...

I'd LIKE me.

I'd RESPECT me.

I'd want to BE like me.

Who am I?

I am the mother of Kelsie, a 22 year-old young lady that has the power to amaze me with her strength.

I am the mother of Camron, a 17 year-old boy that has the power to overtake my heart with his smile.

I am the ex wife of C...

The father of my children...

Whom, I just "outgrew".

I am also the ex wife of D...

Who made me the bitter little bitch everyone knows.

I am the daughter of Mary.

I am the daughter of Joe...

Who continue to mold me into the adult I want to be, although statistics say I should be "raised" by now.

I am the sister of Paul, Susie, Judy, Jan and Beverly.

And, we may not like each other most days, but you had probably ought to.

I am an employee of a website...

Most of my work is done behind either a computer, or a steering wheel...

And, I love it.

I am a writer.

I have found that through words, I am able to articulate many thoughts far too deep for my superficial facade to convey.

I am the most loyal person you will ever know.

I am the most blatantly honest person you will ever know.

Even if it means your feelings get hurt.

Which amazes even me, because, let me assure you, if I know I've hurt someone, it drives me BANANAS!!!

Although, anyone who knows me will tell you that I am the QUEEN of justification.

Sometimes I drink too much, but then again...

Sometimes I think to much.

My best friends are named Cherie, Merideth, Nadja and Leslie...

I call them "My Girls".

There is an "internet" side to me that I never expected, in all my lifetime, I'd develop...

My best friends in THAT world are Diana, Lyndsey, Kim and Cami...

Although because of Facebook, that number continues to grow...

And, actually, there is NO differential between the two...

Both groups know of the others' existence and are honorary members.

I lost one of my closest friends to suicide over the summer, and I continue to struggle with that loss.

I want to define a relationship with a certain "someone"...

Thank GOD he knows I'm struggling, so we put the "definition" on the back burner.

So, my friend, at the end of the day, I am just...

One. hot. mess.

Not really much different that the girl you knew way back when.

Now, tell me...

Who are you?

Mad World....

2010-01-10T15:24:00.007-06:00

To Write Love on Her Arms...February 12 - 13, 2010.

http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#/event.php?eid=210328952677&ref=mf

In November, we all wrote "love" on our arms.

I felt bad inasmuch as I didn't fully comprehend what the day stood for until the day was there...

And, I was left rushing to write the word "love" on my arm...

Getting people to join in my cause.

I wrote the word, but...

At first I tried it in pen, and it didn't work...

So, I traced over it in eyeliner.

That worked.

To Write Love on Her Arms Day is, without doubt, the most beautiful, simple way I have ever heard of in which to memorialize and to support those suffering depression.

Depression.

Seems a taboo subject to us.

Sad fact is?

It shouldn't be.

I could tell you a story about, just over a year ago, when my own depression had sunk me farther than I ever wanted to go.

In a split second, I made a decision that could have ended my children's lives; my friend's lives'; my family's lives...

And, friends, at the split second I was making that decision, I was so full of pain, I didn't care...

I just wanted the pain to stop...

Even if it meant my own life would...

Stop.

I had a friend who fretted...

Called me, without ceasing...

Until he was sure the danger had passed.

I'm happy to say, I made it.

My past mistakes never to be repeated.

My friend?

Not so much.

I had coined him from the second I met him...

Because "crazy" knows "crazy", right?

Our love for one another grew.

He identified weakness in me that I identified in him...

The difference?

He was able to call me out, whereas, try as I may, I could never call him out.

And, call for him, I did...

Until his last breath.

I called for him.

It was to no avail.

His pain was more than I could atone for, and more than he could bear.

Since, July, I have grieved...

I have cried...

I have hurt...

I have cried for him...

I have cried for me...

I have cried for this world...

A world that was cheated of his goodness; his intelligence; his wit.

It's a very, very mad world.

I KNEW that boy...

Inside out, backward and forward...

And, like all who really knew him, I KNEW it was coming...

I was powerless to stop it.

No one could have stopped it.

His pain was just that intense.

He needed it to stop.

He stopped it.

I wish I had known then what I know now...

But I didn't.

I can't change July, but hopefully...

I CAN change the future.

As ever, he continues teaching...

Continues loving...

Continues his march.

It's in me...

It's in you...

It's in all of us that loved him and could not change things for him.

It's in all of us that face the day with renewed spirit and decide to listen...

They are speaking to us, friends...

Their words are unspoken, but their silence says it all.

I WILL stand up and speak for those who can't find their voice...

They have no reason to be ashamed...

Illness is illness, and, honestly, I don't believe anyone blames a cancer patient...

Depression.

It's not a death sentence.

It's simply a diagnosis.

In this mad world.

Friends Forever...

2010-01-10T12:19:00.004-06:00

For me, life withing the walls of Tioga High School was, in a word...confusing.

I always struggled with how I looked;

How I dressed;

If people liked me...

If HE liked me...

How I was perceived.

To the point that I kept within my group of friends and did NOT venture out of the circle.

Those people knew me, loved me, accepted me...

And, I had nothing to explain.

Funny thing about being 16...

You feel as though the world is plotting against you.

Funnier thing about being 43...

You realize the world could have cared less.

Seriously...

There are bigger problems to solve.

And, people, I had resolved myself long ago that high school was a self-induced nightmare that was better left behind by me.

Never, did I EVER attend a reunion.

Ever.

Although, I'd get reports back and WISH I had been there.

And, in this electronic age in which we live...

And, I MAY add, this electonic age that allows me to make a living...

Things began to change.

A year or more ago, I joined Facebook.

I didn't want to, but everyone else seemed to be there, and, well, not to be left out, I followed suit.

IMMEDIATELY, that damned search engine found me...

Suggesting, "You both went to Tioga High School and graduated in 1984. Add as friend."

And, I ignored them.

The Class of 1984 owed me nothing but a diploma, and I had that.

One day; however, the name of a girl that I really, really liked back in the day showed up...

She had gone on to marry another of my classmates that I really liked, so I clicked "Add as Friend"...

The dreaded button...

I had done it...

There was no turning back.

And, wonder of all wonders, the next day, my wall read:

Pam and TFC are now friends.

Shit.

What to do now? Do I acknowledge? Do I let it pass? Do I act like I care?

So, I choose to write, "'Sup, Tracy? Long time, no see," on her wall.

And, from there, I continued to reunite with the Tioga High School graduating class of 1984.

Funny.

I was talking to a friend of mine today about the amount of friends I have on my Facebook, and I told him, "Some are there by simple osmosis. Many of them are there because we went to school together."

I went on to tell him how it is that I look forward to reading status messages...

Wall posts...

Even stupid quizzes...

Posted by my beloved class of 1984.

I told him of my old high school friend, M, who, ironically enough, ended up living behind my parents...

Many, many, MANY times...

It was her family that helped my dad off the ground after a fall.

Typing that out just now made me tear up.

Thanks, M. Thanks for caring for my dad. You will NEVER know what that means to me.

EVER...

But, I promise you this...

If I can ever return that favor, sister, I will...

You let me know...

I'm there.

So, to the Class of 1984, I salute you...

Matt evolved into race car driver.

What?

Tracy evolved into nurse...

Todd evolved into, apparently, party animal....(NEVER saw THAT coming!)

Micki evolved into The Deer Hunter...

Mark's in Arkansas now...

Sherry is Supermom...

Roland LOVES the Facebook apps...

Dewitt didn't graduate with us, but he LIVES in Mardi Gras get-up!

And, guys, just in case you ever wonder, Pam turned out just fine...

She's alive and well...

And, within her heart, she carries you all.

I LOVE being 43.

Because, at 43, you realize what is really important...

It is with those that you can claim to be...

Friends forever.

LOVE MORE IN 84, PEOPLE!!!

And, I do love you...

We are friends forever.

Hallelujah....

2010-01-06T16:43:00.004-06:00

Can I tell you people I've heard this song a million times before and it always spoke to me, but it wasn't until about ten minutes ago, I actually heard the lyrics?

Once you hear the lyrics, to the wandering heart like me, the words REALLY begin talking.

How awesome the words would come together with the thought...

Today, of all days.

Last night was a strange night, indeed, in my house.

The boy was up with his head, which awoke me around one, and before things settled back down and I was, once again, in the sanctity of the warmth of my bed, it was near three.

Funny thing about being up and down and up and down again...

It gives your mind time to wander.

And, wander, my mind did.

It wandered over years and years and miles and miles.

In that time, I saw and spoke with husbands past...

Friends past...

Boyfriends past...

And, friends present.

As my eyes closed, blessedly in slumber, my heart realized something...

It wants what it wants.

What I turned away a few months ago, maybe it wants back...

Maybe it's not there any longer...

I don't know.

Only time will tell.

Maybe what was once there years ago is gone and it's never coming back...

And, it's time I accept it.

Maybe things change only because they cannot remain the same.

Maybe the secret to life is to be ever-evolving...

Maybe the key to happiness is in my hands.

Maybe it's time I let go and run free.

Maybe.

Love, my friends, is ever-escaping and long-suffering.

What is true love?

Can anyone tell me really?

My definition of love is my mother...

Devoting her life to my dad...

Even though, most days, lately, he lives in a world that no longer exists.

It's no matter to her.

To her, he's her husband, and she will be there.

It brings a tear to my eye to realize that I may well have discarded any chance on earth anyone would ever exhibit that undying devotion to me.

In her heart, Mother remembers...

When he was strong and tall and protective.

Today, she is called upon to be strong and tall and protective.

And, my friends, that is love.

Love lives within a girl in Michigan.

She pines for what might have been.

Life no longer holds the shine for her it did six months ago.

She cries...

She grieves...

And, no matter how much we love her or hold her close...

We cannot compare.

Seems silly to some, but to her - to him, really...

It was as real as what most of you have within your own home.

Love is an enigma.

My 17 year-old thinks he's found love...

And, maybe he has.

I don't think so, but who is to judge...

If she can love him...

Through his insecurities...

Through his failures...

Through his successes...

Through life, who am I to say no?

Although all that is in me screams, "NO!"

Perhaps, my friends, I am learning...

Today, what I know is that I know nothing.

Nothing.

I am re-committed, as of today.

I WILL discover me.

I WILL allow myself to feel..

I WILL allow myself to open...

I WILL allow the world around me to discover...ME.

I've been hiding...

I've been lurking...

For far too long.

Come get me, world...

I'm a-waitin'!

Hallelujah!

You'll Be in My Heart...

2009-12-30T19:14:00.002-06:00

2009 has NOT been my year.

Anyone that knows me can attest to that.

It started ok...

It did...

Everyone was in place, just as they should have been...

The promise of relationships deepening was in the air...

Love abounded around me, and, as ever, I was in awe.

I coasted on that feeling, but as someone very wise told me, just today even, "When the seas are calm are when you need to be worrying. Complacency is your enemy."

May brought new worries, but nothing life-threatening.

My dad's health had taken a turn that needed addressing, and although that was hard, my family overcame.

The one thing I thought I couldn't make it through, life proved to me I could.

I could adjust what I could control, but it was those that I couldn't control that, by mid-year, had me concerned...

As, you all know, what I couldn't control is what got me.

July brought changes to me like I never knew could change me...

As I faced uncharted water, I began to realize what I was really made of...

Steel.

Many, many times, I thought I was broken...

But my spirit sucker-punched me and made me realize I was NOT broken, and quite likely, I was UNBREAKABLE...

And, people, about July, as hard as it was to face, was when life opened itself up to me and I was finally able to burst out of the cocoon I had built around the walls of my heart and actually LIVE...

And, don't get me wrong...

Part of me died in July, and that part is never coming back...

It lives only in my heart, and to be honest, in my heart is where it needs to live...

That part of my heart is the one part that cannot EVER be tarnished...

It will forever be living...

It will forever be innocent...

It will forever be young.

Forever.

That part of my heart is my bright spot...

Where I go when I need to KNOW I'm ok...

Believe it or not, that one memory keeps me on track.

Forever.

I love you, buddy. Now and then and always...

I love you.

You'll be in my heart.

And, as we know it, with each loss comes new life...

When it seemed my heart was dead, a bud began to grow...

That bud grew into a tree...

Through death, life began to transform...

Old heartbreaks were healed...

New friendships were formed...

And, bonds that should have never been formed were broken...

All leading me to my today.

I don't know what it is about the promise of a new year that excites me...

ANYTHING is possible.

Anything.

For me AND for you...

Today, I talked to an old friend...

I really adore him...

I've never told him that, but I think he knows it.

He told me, "You changed me."

A bigger honor I cannot imagine ever receiving.

Hey, you, you're in my heart, too.

We had a rough road, but you never left my heart.

And, you live there still.

I face 2010 with the knowledge that this will be a year of loss for me...

My dad is fading fast...

And, as much as it hurts me, I'm ready.

Not for me, but for him.

He's ready.

To keep him here, to me, seems cruel.

I love you, PawPaw...

"About yay-big and around and around and around..."

You've always loved me and for no reason...

I've loved you because you've been my dad.

You've been my constant champion and righter of all my wrongs...

For no other reason but that you loved me, too.

I will let you go in love and peace.

I will let you go with honor.

You will, without doubt, forever be in my heart.

Then, now and always...

You will live in my heart.

When you are tired, it's ok...

I want you to rest.

We'll be fine.

I promise you, I won't let us fall apart...

It's ok.

Just rest.

I love you.

It will be hard to let you go, but it's harder for me to watch you suffer.

When that challenge arises, I will be ready to face it.

You see, I can DO this thing called life...

Try as it may, it cannot break me.

I will always overcome.

Not because I am special, but because of my friends.

Each of you...

I carry you...

Right here...

In my heart.

You will always be in my heart.

We will do this thing together.

Forever.

Just look over your shoulder...

I'll be there.

You'll be in my heart.

Silent Night...

2009-12-25T20:02:00.003-06:00

By this time on Christmas Day, most of us are home, our obligations met and the stress of the last few weeks are gone.

My own children left around 9 this morning to spend the rest of the holiday with their dad.

I've been to see my parents and my family, and now, I sit in the darkened living room, illuminated by the 50 lights adhered to my 4-foot tree that mysteriously decided to work today.

Peace is with me.

Peach and stillness, and yet, I still dream of Christmases years ago...

My heart, today of all days, longs for them.

My body is here at home, but my heart is within a white, wood-frame house in the town of Greenwood, Louisiana...

Where my cousin, my sister and I will sleep in my grandparent's office.

My cousin, Gary, will, no doubt, sleep on the gold sleeper sofa in the dining room, right there beside the warmest of all heaters ever known.

In the morning, I will, without fail, be the first of the children to awake, and I'll stumble down the hall to find my dad, my MeeMee and my Aunt JoAnn sipping coffee.

I'll stand in front of that space heater, and as I listen to them visit, I will sincerely believe I've never been so warm or safe in all of my life.

And, I'll look over at Gary sleeping and WANT to pull some mischief on him...

I could do all I wanted.

He'd never wake up.

It will never occur to me that Santa always comes to my house a day earlier that he does with all my friends.

It will never occur to me that Santa, with all his Christmas "know how" could find me at my MeeMee's just as easily as he could find me at my own house.

It will never occur to me that one day, 30 some-odd years later, I'll look back on these Christmases and tears will come to my eyes.

It will never occur to me that my life will change more quickly than I am willing and that, one day, I'll be a mother with two children of my own and that this most spectacular time of year will lose its magic...

Until, 30 some-odd years later, and I look back.

Somehow, Christmases spent there meant it was actually CHRISTMAS.

Perhaps it was because I was a child...

Perhaps it was because my grandparents were there...

Perhaps, because, back then, people slowed down a little more...

I don't know the answer to that question.

I just know that as each year passes, I seem to be missing one person that was with me last year.

Just as I know that each year, I've gained at least one more than I had the previous year.

And, friends, such is the beauty and the mystery that is life...

We never know what we really have until it's gone...

And, we never fully appreciate what's coming until we've experienced loss.

But, today, this one day of the year, NOTHING can touch us.

But for today, we are held only by ourselves and what is within.

Just for this one day, we are only reflecting on what lies just beneath our surface.

The outside world is still.

The outside world is calm.

The outside world will give us a Silent Night.

Wild Horses....

2009-12-23T15:01:00.002-06:00

God, how I miss you today.

Your birthday was last week...

I guess.

If you told me right.

Today, I'm remembering talking to you as I prepared my Christmas Eve dinner.

Remember that?

I put you on speaker and the kids talked with you, too.

The phone sat on the bar and we all visited, as if you were there in the flesh.

Those two loved you, friend...

You were their cool uncle...

Who told them dirty jokes and IMMEDIATELY took them back...

Because "Mama" was watching...

And wasn't too happy about it.

Kelsie will always remember her name as "Smuckers?"...

Geez, man.

It's hard.

I loved you.

I love you still.

I haven't cried in a long time, but today, I find myself in tears.

Oh my God, how I loved you.

It will never stop.

I will love you always.

My friend;

My confidant;

My brother.

I cry for your family...

I cry for your friends...

I cry for the world...

All cheated out of: you.

Selfishly, most times, I cry for: me.

I miss you, buddy.

Everyday, I miss you.

Not a second goes by that I don't think of you...

Hurt for you...

Long to hear your voice.

Are you happy?

Did you find what you were looking for?

Are you at rest?

Do you awake in the morning to find...peace?

If it is all that you needed, then I abstain...

From all grief...

From all tears...

From all sadness.

You, my friend, YOU...

Are all that matters.

I love you.

You know that, right?

Today, more than ever, I miss you.

It will take wild horses...

To drag me away.

You always knew you didn't have much time.

You always knew you had to unite while you could.

Make hay while the sun's shining, right?

You made hay, buddy...

Never you worry.

All these beautiful people you brought to me...

To D...

I don't know how the two of us would have made it without them.

You just know that we, your two unofficial "sisters"...

Would need wild horses...

To drag us away.

We love you.

We always have.

We always will.

Wild horses, dude.

Wild freakin' horses.

Sweet Music Man...

2009-12-22T21:05:00.002-06:00

I watched on the sidelines as he and his friend began their "show".

One "fighting" the other for his "spot" on the street.

The one pictured, at long last, "won" the argument, and the other went on his way.

My friend looked at him as the "fight" began and commented, "There's no way that guy is about to play an instrument."

We wandered on into the store we were walking to, the men outside a distant memory.

Somewhere between the handmade masks, I realized the most beautiful guitar music I'd ever heard had begun just outside the door.

I walked to it and peered outside to see the most humbling sight I had seen since entering the French Quarter...

No doubt, he was homeless...

No doubt, he was poor...

But, he had friends...

Friends that were willing to cause a ruckus to help him get started.

And, get started, he did.

My friend was entranced with peacock feathers and Mardi Gras masks and wanting my help in choosing just the right mask.

As much as I wanted to help him, to me, the REAL show was going on just outside the door.

Although the sun was shining, it was cold.

I couldn't help but wonder where he would sleep tonight.

Did he have food?

Did he have shelter?

And, lastly, did he have family?

I took a dollar from my purse and walked down the street to where he was.

I bent beside him and dropped the dollar in.

He looked at me and I looked at him.

In the most sincere tone I'd heard in weeks, he told me, "God bless you."

I smiled at him.

"God bless you, too, friend. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, friend," he replied back.

I wondered how long it had been since he realized he TRULY had a friend?

I could only hope he realized it that very second.

I could see his friends, on the street...

Watching him.

His friends BELIEVED in him.

The rest of the world may not, but those few that stood around BELIEVED.

I did, too.

Even now, I still believe.

To the world, he may be a homeless guy on the street pan-handling for a dollar with his guitar...

But, to his friends...

And, to me...

He was a PERFORMER.

Earning an HONEST living.

Making people, like me, if only for that second, smile.

Yes.

Sing your song, sweet music man...

Sing on and on and on.

An Old Violin...

2009-12-14T17:42:00.003-06:00

“It is a time when one's spirit is subdued and sad, one knows not why; when the past seems a storm-swept desolation, life a vanity and a burden, and the future but a way to death.” ~ Mark Twain

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I believe I sincerely am more tired than I have ever been in my life.

The exhaustion is complete: mental; physical; and emotional.

I have been on auto-pilot for the last week, completing the bare minimum of all tasks to sustain the existence of those in my household.

I'm not complaining.

I'm simply stating fact.

I remember awaking on Saturday and the overwhelming sense of loneliness that enveloped me...

For the first time in years, I actually missed being married.

I remember the thought, "If I was married, I could roll over in this bed to my husband who would understand."

I could have found comfort there.

Saturday morning, there was no sanctuary.

There was a simple clock that ticked and tocked, reminding me that I had somewhere to be.

There was no understanding...

There was no comforting...

There was no affirmation.

Only the sound of the clock.

No one cared that I was tired...

No one was there to hold me and tell me everything would be ok...

No one to offer to take my place.

Suddenly, I felt so very, very vulnerable.

So very, very alone.

So very, very isolated from the rest of the world.

Slipping in past bedtime each night to fall into the sheets, only to awaken to a frantic rush has weakened me.

In the rare moments of silence, I wrestle with myself.

It's a battle I'll never really win, because you see, my two dominate personality traits are in direct conflict with one another...

One part of me is kind, understanding, sympathetic and unstoppable in a time of crisis.

The other part of me is bitter, resentful, quick-tempered and willing to throw her hands up in the air and quit.

The mild-mannered part of me always wins in the end.

Leaving the other part of me frustrated with myself.

I remember one time a few years back when I awoke with fever and felt the same lonesome feeling deep within I feel right now...

It lasted until the fever broke.

This will, too.

And, when this "fever" breaks, I'll come back stronger and more prepared than ever.

I'll have more experience than I did the day before, and I'll know.

I'll tell myself, "You made it through this. You can certainly make it through that."

But, sometimes, in the darkness, where I find my honest self, I just can't help but feel like...

And old violin.

My Sister...My Friend...

2009-12-09T20:44:00.002-06:00

Oh, lawdy, folks...

With every trial, comes...

Family.

Good, bad or ugly...

You get what you get, right?

To say that the last few days have been an adventure is an UNDERSTATEMENT...

Not sure how it happened, really, but the four other girls besides myself, and the one boy that God chose (because He has a sense of humor!) to "bless" my mother with have become...

The poster children for dysfunction.

And, people, let me assure you, my siblings do NOT put the "fun" in "dysfunction".

In all fairness, they probably all say that about me, too.

Whatever.

It's my family, so I can say what I want.

You; however, had BETTER NOT say one negative word about ANY of them...

The wrath of God Himself will befall you.

I. am. not. kidding.

WE can kill each other, but YOU, if you know what's good for you, had better NOT even look at one of us with a crossed eye.

I'm so sorry. Have I ever REALLY introduced you to my family?

We'll start with my brother...

Who has the talent to OFFEND anyone. Not so much by what he says (because his words hold ALOT of truth to them), but more by the WAY he says it...

He means no harm, and yet...he DOES harm...

To over-inflated egos.

Yep, my brother has the distinct talent of cutting you to the quick...

And, really doesn't care.

Next, there's my oldest sister...

Who owns my heart.

Don't know if I've ever shared this with anyone, but when I was a baby, my mother was fighting cancer...

Leaving my 14 year-old sister...

Basically, a single mother...

With a baby...

That held on to her hip and called her "Mama".

Today, I call her by her name, but in today's world, when I can't go to my real mother, I turn to my sister...

She has never once let me down.

She carries too many burdens, but to lay them down would mean laying down all she cares about in this world...

I worry because she worries too much.

Third, there's my second-oldest sister, who, to this day, remains an absolute enigma to me...

Seriously.

I can't figure her out.

At times, she the first in line to defend, and at others...

She's the first in line to strike you down with a single blow.

Not sure what's up with that, but I do know she has the ability to make me feel like the least-worthy person on earth...

And, sometimes, she's my biggest champion.

I've just learned to balance on those eggshells that lead to the center of her heart...

And, to not get my feelings hurt if I "fall short".

Now, my middle sister...

People, I don't even know where to go with this one.

She has the inordinate ability to make you absolutely LOATHE her, and yet, when it seems the world turns against her...

You have to rush to defend.

Not because you want to, mind you...

But because you know she doesn't have the sense to do it for herself.

Actually, I can't even come up with more words about this one.

Seriously.

Lastly, we get to my sister I grew up with...

The "Practical One".

I have lived in the shadow of this girl's halo my ENTIRE life...

Two years older than me...

And exempliary student...

Never did wrong...

Yeah, you see where we're going, right?

And, at the end of the day, it doesn't matter...

Sometimes, I just HAVE to talk to her first...

Before I tell anyone else, I HAVE to tell her...

It's the bond we share from growing up together, I think.

She can be perfect, and yet, I KNOW she'll still accept me with all my imperfections, without judging...

Yeah, I LOVE that one.

Put us all in one room and walk into it, and I can promise you one thing...

You are walking into a room filled with more personality that the "normal" human could ever be ready to accept.

Which makes me feel so sorry for those that are charged with the care of our loved ones...

WE are the most easily pacified people you will ever meet...

UNTIL we think you're not treating someone we love like they are someone we love...

That poor hospital never knew what hit them until Hurricane Crane came to town.

Oops. Hate that for them.

Um, just a heads up...

You MIGHT want to pay a little bit closer attention to that little sweet old man in the back corner...

He will agree with anything you say...

His children, on the other hand, will chew you up and spit you out.

I SAID my mother raised children that didn't know how to deal with one another as adults...

I NEVER said my mother raised children that didn't know the value of family.

At the end of the day, even my brother would have to call each of us...my sister...my friend.

Shower the People....

2009-12-08T21:54:00.007-06:00

The waiting area in the Cardiac Care unit was full...

Mainly with my family...

My brother and my sisters and me.

For the first time I could ever remember, the six of us were there without a parent.

One had been taken to the back of the unit about thirty minutes before, and the other awaited in another part of the hospital on our return with a full report of her progress.

I was able to go back to see her for a second, and I could tell when my sister looked up, she thought I was there to "run her out", as we had done all morning, since she was only allowed one of us at time until they took her for surgery.

I just winked at her and approached the bed where my mother lay.

I reached out and touched her hand.

"Hey. How are you?"

In true mother-fashion, she reassured me, "I'm fine. I'm just fine," in the best slurred voice she could manage.

"Hmmm. Did they give you some valium?"

(Now, people, comments like THIS one are why my mother cracks me up!)

"Yeah, they did. I guess they have to get you drunk when you're in here. I mean, really, what would you do just laying around her for hours if they didn't make it fun?"

My sister and I just glanced at one another and giggled at her.

"I guess you're right! It'd be a pretty long morning otherwise, wouldn't it?"

"Yep." Her hands motioned toward the beside table, "Look. Take my glasses and put them in my blue bag."

"OK. I will."

"OK. In my blue bag."

"I know, Mother. I'll take care of it."

"OK. Just don't forget. I'll need them later. Well, if I don't die, I guess."

So, I teased her...

"Well, I'll just lay them somewhere and if you make it out of surgery, I'll put them in your bag."

She scolded me. "Put those glasses in my bag."

"I will, Mother."

I continued on, "I'm gonna go on over to the other tower and check on Pop. It's getting lunchtime and someone needs to be there to feed him. They'll call me when your surgery starts and I'll come back, ok?"

"Yeah. Check on your daddy. He's probably pretty worried."

"Ok. I'll see you when you get out, ok?"

"Ok. Now, Pam, put those glasses in my blue bag."

"Good bye, Mother. I'm giving your glasses to a blind homeless person....."

I started the trek to his room, which by the end of the day, I determined was 212 miles, with anticipation.

It's a strange sensation having both your parents in the same building for different ailments...

You're torn.

When you're there with one, you're feeling guilty because you're not with the other one, so you move on to the next room, only to find out that within 15 minutes, the same "antsy" feeling is in your legs, making you want to get up and walk to the next room...

So, you make that hike 10 times in the day...

Each of them waiting on a report of what you found in the room you just left...

Over and over and over again.

When I walked in my dad's room and saw him for the first time, without the "full effect" of all the family since it all happened, my heart fell in my chest.

So very frail...

So very vulnerable...

So very beautiful.

I sat down beside him and just took him in. In those few minutes, the last 25 years with him as my dad ran through my mind.

I was overcome with the amount of love he had jammed into those 25 years.

Raising adult children of another man could never have been easy for him, but he never complained.

NEVER.

For 25 years I have been the most loved "little girl" in the world.

With my natural father, I was never "Daddy's Girl"...

But, for the beautiful person I saw in front of me, I had been "Daddy's Girl" from day one.

The gravity of the situation set in, and for the first time, hot tears began to come to the surface.

I tried to fight them, but found those tears were stronger than me...

So, I sat in silence, wiping my cheeks and watching him when it happened...

My dad, who had been in and out of a drug-induced sleep for three days looked at me with eyes clearer than I had seen on him in over a year.

"Don't you cry." He said. "Don't you do that."

I stood up and took his hand.

"I just love you. I love you so much, and I hate to see you hurting like this."

"You stop that crying. You didn't have anything to do with me being hurt."

His eyes lost focus, but he continued talking...

"You didn't do anything wrong, baby."

"You know that you and Kelsie and Camron are the most special things ever given to me, right?"

"And, you and...Paul.....Jan......Beverly.......Susie.....Judy....and Mama are the most special things I ever got, too."

The tears wouldn't hold back anymore. I was bawling.

"I love you more than I could ever say."

"That's how much I love you, too."

(And, THIS is why I LOVE MY DAD like you can't imagine!)

With all the innocense of the child, he asked me, "Do you know how much that is?"

Without stopping, he raised his frail arms into the air and streched them out by his side...

"That's about yay big and around and around and around."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah, PawPaw. That's how much I love you, too...

About yay big and around and around and around...

To the Top of the World...

2009-12-01T18:00:00.004-06:00

For the past few days, I've reviewed the last 12 years of my life in vivid detail...

Recalling each and every step and mis-step that have brought me to myself today.

My beloved friend, Jackie Summers, wrote quite an article over the weekend about emotional scars, which you can find here: http://jackfrombkln.blogspot.com/

In his piece, beautiful soul that Jax is, he delves into the mysteries of physical scars and why it is that as human beings, we are so willing to divulge every detail of how our outward scars came to be, and yet, when it comes to emotional scars, our tendencies are to hide them far and away from anyone except those we know most intimately.

I commented to Jax that, since he absolved those who suffered from outward disfigurement from pride in their physical scars, that sometimes, we are so emotionally scarred that we are disfigured on the inside and are, therefore, worthy of a hall pass.

He'd have no part of that.

Sometimes, I really dislike Jax and his built-in bullshitometer. ;)

So I have been intently talking with myself since Sunday...

Asking myself how it is that I became this mass of scar tissue on the inside...

That has turned into a cancer.

And, how it is that I break free.

I know where it started; about the year 2000...

I loved him with my entire heart...

He was intelligent, funny, caring, good to my children, good to my parents, an exceptional lover...

And, after I was too far into it to just walk away, I found he was tormented with mental illness...

An emotional scar he was able to hide from me with unbelievable talent...

A victim of emotional and physical abuse at the hands of his mother all those years ago, he was unable to love in a way I could accept, and I had no choice but to move on, even though my heart wanted to stay...

Months and months of pain, followed by months of self-doubt followed me, and then one night, I was on a date with a guy...

Who introduced me to a friend of his...

And, as I turned to shake the guy's hand, our eyes locked...

And, I KNEW.

Don't ask me how, but I knew.

It was literally like one of those scenes in a movie when the cameras are angled just right...

The lighting is perfect...

And, as the viewer, you KNOW this is the pivotal moment in the movie in which the story line you have come to see starts.

Yes. It was one of those moments...

And, even all these years later, it's one I will treasure until the day I die.

It ranks right there with the births of my children.

He was beautiful;

He was tall;

He was delightful to be around.

And, I loved him instantly.

And, he, me.

We had a beautiful life while it lasted.

I can never remember a time that, when either of us walked in the door, no matter how bad things were, that I wasn't truly glad to see him...

He lit my world.

But, people, I was scarred, and because I am human...

I didn't let him see.

The sad part is that, I believe he loved me enough that there was NOTHING that I could have ever confided in him that he couldn't have loved me through...

But, I didn't tell him...

And, eventually, I had woven a web of deceit to hide my disfigured inside from him.

I wasn't trying to be dishonest. I was simply trying to protect him from - me.

I loved him.

Oh, how I loved him.

How he loved me.

The end was horrific and public and...

Worse than anything I could ever describe to you.

Everything that was once so beautiful was suddenly disfigured beyond recognition...

And, I was left feeling a shell...

Abandoned by myself...

Abandoned by my love...

Abandoned by life...

Years have passed since then, and, yet...

Nothing has seemed worth the risk since then.

I remember years ago...

I'd have risked anything for him...

Anything.

Just to have remained...

On top of the world.

A Long December...

2009-11-29T16:40:00.002-06:00

Oh, man, it's getting that time of year...

I've seen in on my street; in my neighborhood; in my town...

I've even seen it on Facebook.

People are decorating trees and houses and wrapping gifts...

All in anticipation of the 25th of December.

And, for me, it's a long December.

I fain excitement for those around me all wrapped up in the spirit of the season, but inside, where that spirit is supposed to dwell...

I dread.

I dread every second of it.

You show me pictures of your tree with gifts overflowing, and I think of mine...

All those years ago...

Five years ago, you'd have found my house aglow in the haze of clear lights and a tree that could rival ANYTHING you could find in ANY store...

And, I ain't kidding...

This girl can decorate like you've never seen.

Although, if you come to my house this year, I'd be hard pressed to prove it with the one poinsettia on the porch.

The pictures of gifts to overflowing make me sad, because a few years ago, I had a HUGE extended family to exchange with on Christmas Eve, and it is now limited to...

My two children.

They don't know it.

I never let it show...

But I LONG for Christmas Past...

When I had a houseful of kids and hope and excitement.

Where, on that ONE magical day, ANYTHING seemed possible..

And, even as an adult, I BELIEVED.

So, I've made an effort...

All traditions for Christmas have changed...

All my "single" friends come over on Christmas Eve and we have a gumbo and some laughs...

Christmas morning is STILL for my kids.

Kelsie still spends the night, although she and Camron have gotten too big to share a bed...

I still go jump on them about 4 a.m. on Christmas morning with the exclamation, "Get up! I don't know how you did it, but SANTA CAME TO SEE YOU! HURRY!"

And, they fake their disbelief that he still comes to see them...

They rise...

Wipe the sleep from their eyes...

And walk into the living room in "amazement" that, even though they didn't write to him this year, he knew EXACTLY what they wanted.

And, it is in those few hours with them, the two people on earth that have the power to pull me from my own darkness, I realize...

The true meaning of the season.

It's about family...

It's about food...

It's about laughter...

It's about faith.

Faith that the THIS year...

Might be better than the last.

Ah, yes, it is, indeed, a long December...

But once you get there, you wonder why you dreaded its arrival.

Life is beautiful.

Life is what you make it...

Even if it is a long December.

Stop this Train...

2009-11-22T19:23:00.002-06:00

"Stop this train! I wanna get off!"

Those words have moved through my mind for months now...

Life is moving at the speed of life, and me, the girl who can take care of it all, has been reduced to...

A passive observer.

I've almost gotten accustomed to that role...

Seriously.

In the last few months, I have become the guru of "Life is What Happens When You're Busy Living It"...

Doesn't matter.

I still hate it.

Stop this train.

I want to get off.

I want to enjoy every second of it...

Each look...

Each sound...

Each touch...

Today, I want time to stand still.

I want all movement to stop.

I want all past arguments...

All past transgressions...

To be gone.

Today, I realize what is important.

Won't someone stop this train?

I am only good at being young...

Nothing else...

This world is demanding more of me that I can give...

I am tired.

Won't someone stop this train?

I want to get off.

And, go home again...

Home...

Where my mother is well and good...

Where my dad is full of enlightenment and can handle anything that comes my way...

Home.

It makes me sad to realize "home" is no longer there.

"Home" is, now days, found in this rented house that I HATE...

"Home" is forever transformed and will NEVER be the same again...

Stop this train.

I want to get off.

And, go home again.

Won't someone stop this train?

A new chapter begins, and yet...

I'm not fully finished with the last chapter...

I've had no time to digest...

To discipher...

To accept...

The next curve ball.

Please.

Won't someone stop this train?

I want to get off.

And, go home again.

I'm only good at being young.

Seriously.

That's my only talent...

And, it's getting farther in the distance...

With every day.

Won't someone stop this train?

I wait on the day that it feels like it should.

Until then, I am begging you, anyone, to, please...

Stop this train.

Angels on the Moon...

2009-11-18T21:29:00.002-06:00

This song has haunted me for the last two weeks.

Each time I hear it, my mind goes back, and in true writer fashion, I can imagine what words I want to weave to its lyrics to express what I'm feeling inside when I hear it.

Today, I write it, but damned if I know what I'm going to say.

Four months tomorrow...

Four months.

I've had no contact with him for four months.

There was a time when four days seemed an eternity.

By the end of the second day, I would have been a wreck, doing everything I could to bait him into saying something...anything...

And, tomorrow, I could try every trick in the book, and I'd get...nothing.

Four months.

I never once, since the day I met him, thought I'd ever live a day without him.

Last week, we all wrote "Love" on our arms.

I wore that word with pride.

I wore it for him.

I'd write it on my arm every day of the week if it would mean I could talk to him...

Just one more time.

Four months.

What did HE believe?

He believed in his niece.

He believed in his sister.

He believed in his mother.

He believed in love.

He believed in friendship.

He believed in family.

He believed in God.

He believed in Heaven.

He believed in Hell.

He believed in two girls from opposite ends of the country...

One, he loved, without shame, and with his entire heart...

The other, he loved and vowed to protect forever and ever, just as a brother protects his sister.

Neither any less, but in different ways...

And, he made sure they knew one another...

Would care for one another...

Because, my friends, he also believed his life would be brief.

So much I owe to him...

So much I can never repay...

With him, I had the relationship I've never had with my own brother.

Somewhere to go and just scream, "THE WORLD SUCKS, AND I AM TIRED, AND I AM SCARED!"

Four months.

I don't know that my calendar will ever creep toward that number "19" that it doesn't hit me...

There will never be another him.

Never.

He was the one and only...

The original...

The beginning...

The end.

He was my friend...

My angel on the moon.

I love you.

I miss you.

Forever and always...

I love you.

I carry your torch.

I believe in you still...

As long as I live, and as long as there is breath in me...

You live on.

My Angel on the Moon.

In My Daughter's Eyes...

2009-11-14T17:42:00.003-06:00

You all know I'm her number one fan.

I always have been, and I always will be.

This "child", as I loosely must refer to her as these days...

Has taught me so much about love;

About life;

About forgiveness.

My only hope is that every parent can gaze upon their child and feel the sense of pride I feel when I look at her.

She is truly amazing.

There are no words fitting to express how I feel for her...

When I think of her, I am absolutely overcome.

How she turned out to be the unbelievable young adult she has grown to be leaves me awe-struck...

Designed by His hand...

Molded by mine...

And, people, mine was shaking with lack of confidence the entire time...

I am amazed.

In spite of me, she grew into the most beautiful of all souls I have ever encountered.

Times are tough right now...

For her.

For me.

But, my heart beats on...

It beats for her.

It beats for me.

She is simply the most pure soul I have ever had fortune to meet.

How in this world God granted me with such a special gift, I really don't know.

I hope she has recognized that I've taught her that when times are tough...

You NEVER give up...

When the world talks against you...

You NEVER back down...

And, when they least deserve it...

You FORGIVE.

I can only hope my child keeps that pureness of heart...

That the heart of forgiveness continues to beat within her.

That she is able to discern who is deserving of her forgiveness...

And, that with some, she must turn away.

My prayer is that God will protect my beautiful girl...

Giving her the tools that she needs to protect herself.

And, that one day, wisdom will be hers.

Because, to know her is, without doubt, a privilege...

It is NOT a right.

I can only hope that the way I see my daughter...

Is the way I'm seen...

In my daughter's eyes.

Shine On, You Crazy Diamond...

2009-11-07T18:26:00.002-06:00

As I begin to type this post, I have to laugh.

My laughter is mainly because I know which of you are wondering if it is you I refer to as a "crazy diamond".

Let me assure you, if you THINK this is for you...

It probably is.

I have loved you...

I do love you...

And, your light continues to shine.

You may no longer be here...

Either by choice, or by circumstance, but YOU, and you ALONE...

Are my crazy diamond.

Those of you that are still here...

Those that have never left...

Let's get real...

You are here ONLY because, indeed, you are...

A crazy diamond.

Crazy attracts crazy, right?

And, to me, it does not matter.

I love you...

I have loved you...

For the individual that you are.

For the individual that you were...

And, in your absence have proven to me...

That you still are...

A crazy diamond.

It's a crazy world we live in, people.

A world none of us, back in our youth ever expected to know...

A world where we know one another better than those in our "real life" will EVER know.

And, yet, we have never met.

Face to face.

The fact is, we probably never will.

And, yet, the loss of one of our own can unite us;

Bond us together in grief no on else can understand;

THIS is our community.

I remember my most favorite of all crazy diamonds...

And, as for as long as I live...

And walk this earth...

His diamond shines.

That light will NEVER dim...

As long as there is breath in me.

Today, I am thinking of the other "third" and "fourth" of "us"...

Two other beautiful, crazy diamonds.

I am in awe when I look back and think, "They are all I have left."

All I have left in this world that, four years ago was foreign to me.

But, somehow, the four of us connected...

In a way I think no one else can understand.

My crazy diamonds.

That still "get" me...

That understand...

That defend...

When even I don't want to anymore.

It surprised me today when I felt so all alone and realized it was in my virtual world that I felt alone...

Abandoned...

Totally alone.

Today, for the first time, I realized I no longer have his protection with me...

Today, for the first time, I was really scared.

Today, for the first time, I realized...

Once I stopped feeling sorry for myself...

That...

He left me with an arsenal.

There are three of us "originals" left...

HOWEVER...

He left us with a HUGE SUPPLY...

Of those he knew would love us...

Accept us...

Protect us...

When no one else would.

He gave us an entire, immeasurable count of...

Crazy diamonds.

I promise I will continue to shine.

As long as all of you promise to continue to shine...

You crazy diamonds.

I Wanna Know What Love Is...

2009-10-30T19:13:00.005-05:00

We were barely 18 and we first danced to this song...

In 1985 Louisiana, we were legal to drink...

Legal to marry...

Ridiculously legal to think we had all the answers.

At the tender age of 20, we married.

In 1987 Louisiana, it was legal for two children to have a child.

And, that, we did.

She came into the world on November 23, 1987 a frail little girl...

Weak from the nine months of improper prenatal care...

The product of an extremely immature and scared mother...

And, a father that had no idea what to do except what she told him to do.

And, she flourished.

The road was a little rocky and questionable at first, but she grew...

She grew in my heart...

She grew in his heart.

Two kids raising a kid...

And, but by the grace of God...

All three of us made it.

She and I would pack up sack lunches and head out to the park every single day.

She and I grew up together.

A little unfair to her, I know, because she helped raise her mother...

Her mother learning her mistakes along the way...

The one thing she did know was that this child...

This precious human being...

Was the reason for her existence.

We were a family.

The three of us were all we knew.

Loving one another...

Holding onto one another...

When there was nothing else to cling to.

The years passed.

We grew up.

We grew apart, her dad and me.

Not his fault, and not mine.

Both of us victims of the clock that seemed to tick against us.

In late 1991, we realized I was having another baby.

I remember my baby girl anxiously awaiting the arrival of her baby sister.

The joke was on her.

Her baby brother came into the world on June 10, 1992.

And, the three of us became four.

We lived...

We loved...

We tried...

We faked it...

We did all we could to hold that world together.

Our efforts were all for nothing...

In the end, there was no amount of responsibility, nor longing that could allow us to go on any further.

It was a bittersweet end...

And, I was left to explain to those two little faces what had happened...

Why life as they knew it was no more.

From that day forward, I have felt guilty...

Guilty for shattering their world...

Guilty for shattering his world...

And, today, I realized something...

I have carried 11 years of guilt that I should not have carried.

I gave it my best.

I have no reason to feel what I feel.

It is not right.

I did nothing wrong except to try to hold it together...

When circumstances dictated it would never work.

I held on...

I held strong...

And, in the end, it wasn't enough.

I have the best that world had to offer me...

It's in the bedroom that I walk partially into each morning at 6:10 a.m. and say, "It's ten after six, baby. Time to get up."

It's in that voice on the phone that can't help but call me and without taking a breath say, "Mom, you will NOT believe what just happened..."

The best of that world...

Where I know what love is...

Lives in her.

It lives in him.

Wanna know what love is?

Love belongs to me.

In my world, love begins with a "K" and a "C".

Yes, I know what love is.

And, you can't stop my love...

That Lucky Old Sun...

2009-10-19T18:11:00.003-05:00

Today was a day I greeted with semi-dread. I had to get Mother to the doctor first thing, make time for a 9:00 a.m. conference call and then, oh, yeah, make time to actually work.

More and more these days getting my mother to an appointment on time is like revisiting early mornings during my children's elementary school days.

"Hurry now and eat your breakfast. You're still not dressed and we have to leave in 15 minutes."

She completely ignored me.

"Mother, come on now, please. I've got to get you into the doctor's office so I can be on my call before nine."

She glanced my way begrudingly and finally acknowledged me, "I'm trying, but if I eat too fast I'll get sick."

"O.K. I've got an idea. How about if we get you dressed and you can take your toast and your juice in the car with us. Deal?"

She let out a frustrated sigh. "Alright."

As she got up to get dressed, she, of all things, began to sing with all the joy of a school girl getting ready for her first date...

"Up in the morning...out on the job...Work like the devil for my pay...But that lucky old sun...Has nothing to do...But roll around Heaven all day..."

As she sang the words, a pang of longing mixed with amusement overcame me and I remembered the date.

I giggled to myself as the thought of my boy rolling around Heaven went through my mind.

I like that thought.

In fact, I like it so much that even though I look at the date, I have managed to carry a little joy in my step all day.

He is rolling around in Heaven.

Probably rolling around in laughter at the pranks he pulled on me the last week.

Just a week ago I told a friend of mine, "I think he's moved on. I haven't felt him in a few weeks. I just don't think he's here anymore."

The very next day my phone, out of nowhere, lit up with all the power of a million Christmas trees and beeped. When I picked it up to see what happened, somehow all the text messages I had received from him those last couple weeks...

All those text messages I had painstakingly moved into a folder so they wouldn't accidentally be deleted...

Were all showing on my phone, as if they had been recalled, and yet, the phone was nowhere near me. It was nowhere near anyone.

Somewhere in the universe, I could imagine him laughing at me, reminding me that, although he may have chosen not to be as visible these past couple weeks, he is, indeed, here, and for me never to forget it...

When he's not busy rolling around Heaven all day, that is.

Like so many things since he left, I believe he gave my mother these words this morning because he knew they would give me peace.

I heard him speaking on one of his old radio shows yesterday morning, and it both surprised and actually delighted me when I was able to listen to his voice and remember his sense of humor, instead of concentrating on how much I hurt.

The last show was actually one where I had called in, and I must admit, it wasn't one of my finer moments.

The last thing I said to him before I hung up?

"I love you, punkin."

He used sweet Caroline to deliver that reminder. He knew I loved him. That thought yesterday gave me so much peace.

And, three months to the day that I last talked to him, at long last, I believe I am ready to heal.

He'll be here with me, every step of the way, I'm sure.

When he's not busy rolling around Heaven all day...

I love you, my friend.

Thank you for making my world a better place and allowing me the honor of calling you friend...

Knowing you has, without doubt, been one of the most wonderful things I have ever known.

There is a special place reserved inside my heart for only you, and each time I examine it, I am filled with the most pure feeling of love I have ever experienced.

You for me;

Me for you;

Without question.

Forever protecting.

Forever accepting.

Forever friends.

I adore you...

You Lucky Old Sun...

Tiny Dancer...

2009-10-16T20:36:00.003-05:00

Nice.

At one time I thought I might be the "Seamtress for the Band"...

Until my sister, quite ironically, living next door...

Caught them drying marijuana leaves on their clothesline.

Yes, people.

True story.

She lurks.

She never comments.

Perhaps this ONE TIME, she'll confirm.

At the time, I didn't realize people GREW the stuff!

I didn't realize people BOUGHT the stuff!

I just thought we SMOKED the stuff.

Never thought of it being illegal...

Because, I would NEVER intentionally break the law.

I was 17.

What I would trade for that innocense again.

But I digress.

In fact, I DID sew on a button on someone's shirt.

And, at this point, my sister should be laughing.

I sew NOTHING, (but bad seed) and ONLY my sister would actually know this.

Just as only my sister would know what REALLY hurts me...

And, what I LET people think hurts me.

Seventeen.

I was seventeen.

The world was stupid, and I was smart, and I knew everything.

The world, quite simply, knew nothing.

Thank God I had my sister (who just happened to live next door), watching out for me.

She had lived a couple years longer than me...

Had walked a couple of roads before I got there...

She had seen the danger.

She refused to let it get me.

At the age of 17, my sister protected me.

I hated her for it...

Because, let's be honest.

I did NOT KNOW what a marijuana leaf looked like.

My sister, miraculously, did...

And, she SAVED ME FROM IT.

She saved me from so much back then.

What we didn't know is that the one that she "saved me" from...

Has ended up being a MIGHTY instrument for God...

And orphans...

All across the south.

Yes.

The boy that once dried pot leaves on his clothesline is now a DEVOTED minister to the Word of God.

He was 17.

I was 17.

Who knows what we may turn out to be at 17?

"Judge not, lest Ye be judged.", right?

We think we know, and to be honest, short of a miracle, we're right.

Right?

I can assure you that, at 17, it never occurred to that I would be twice divorced.

It never occurred to me that I would be entrusted with two precious lives and love them so much it would threaten to take the very breath from me.

At 17, I knew nothing.

Except that he was tall...

That he had his "own place"...

He was "in a band"...

And, that he wrote me a song...

Of my very own...

"Pam, Pam, you ain't worth a damn...

I call you on the phone, you say you're taking to your friend...

Where did your lies start...

And where will they end?"

The thought of lying to him, at the age of 17, had never occurred to me.

The song, I thought, was funny...

And, yet, it MUST have impressed me.

Because I have NEVER forgotten what he sang to me...

As he strummed his guitar...

In the back of his 72' Ford Pickup...

That was navy blue...

Except for the driver's door...

It was Army Green.

I was 17.

He was 17.

I was but a tiny dancer.

He was but a tiny dancer.

With our ENTIRE lives before us, and, yet...

We didn't see that part.

We were too busy dancing in the sand...

Two tiny dancers, in His hands...

Good-Night, My Angel

2009-10-13T15:53:00.003-05:00

A life-saver of an unexpected call came through today from one of my closest friends.

We made some small talk, and then she asked the question which was actually the purpose of her call.

"How are you?"

"I'm no so good, Kim," I choked out as the hot tears built up behind my eyes.

From there, I caught her up on the events of the last few days since we had talked, and in the true spirit of friendship, as the unbelievable twists and turns of my past couple weeks came from me, we laughed; we cried; we evaluated the situation; we discussed it; and, for the time being, we resolved it.

I remember at one time wondering how it was possible she could hear me. My voice was literally choked with emotion to the point everything I said was just above a whisper.

It didn't matter.

She is my friend.

She knew exactly what I was saying without even hearing it.

She knows the burden on my heart and how it is pressing me to my absolute limit.

She knows all the loss and pain I've been through in the past few months.

She knows I am upside down in a tail-spin and I don't know how to find my way out.

She knows I am helpless.

And, she knows that for me to know I am helpless in a battle leaves me even more crippled.

She is my friend for no other reason than that she loves me. I don't know that I've ever done anything to deserve that kind of love.

I continued on, "Kim, I've always been so foolish. I watched everyone else I know fight their battles and I truly thought that, for whatever reason, I have always been one of the 'lucky' ones. I'm not. I never have been. My battles were just saved for later in life."

And, we both agreed that at some point in all our lives, we are all called upon to dance with the devil.

I want off this dancefloor.

He continues moving to the beat.

He is truly disfigured beyond recognition and I am not enjoying his company.

Is life truly unfair?

I can't say.

In my time on this earth, I've been blessed; I've been hurt; I've been up; I've been down.

It just may simply be "my turn".

Maybe this time, the girl that always lands on her feet will crash land.

I'm just not sure.

This battle that has been waged against me has threatened to take everything that means something to me.

So many questions.

So many fears.

So many doubts.

And, quite possibly for the first time in my entire life, I am truly scared.

But, as ever, I will go on, knowing that this, too, shall pass.

I will go on because of the love of the people that surround me.

And, to those that elude me, good-night, my angels.

Where ever you may go; No matter where you are, I never will be far away.

Baby of Mine...

2009-10-09T18:24:00.004-05:00

It's no secret.

I've never been a perfect mother to the two beautiful souls that were entrusted to me.

I've been far from it.

In fact, I've always thought they deserved better.

So much of the story they don't know...

How their dad and I met...

How we married...

How we were best friends that simply...

Outgrew one another.

How we tried to hold it together because of the two beautiful lives we had created...

And, yes, created out of our love for one another.

In the end, we just couldn't make it work.

Try as we might, we just couldn't do it...

Leaving me, at the age of 30, with two children, a job that paid "x" amount of dollars on the first...

And "x" amount of dollars on the 15th.

They don't know how hard it was.

Sometimes, in the beginning, I literally had to choose between food or electricity...

Just so we could make it two more weeks...

Until the next payday.

Maybe I fooled myself.

Maybe they did know and the joke was on me.

Just don't know.

I always thought I did a good job at hiding the harsh realities of life from them.

My theory was that, all too soon, life would come in and teach them its cruel truth...

While they were on my watch...

NOTHING could touch them.

I may not have always been the best...

BUT...

I always DID my best.

Maybe not as great as someone else may have done...

But, it was my best effort.

All the while, knowing, they deserved better.

Maybe, in the end, my best simply wasn't good enough.

The one thing I do know...

That NO ONE could ever dispute...

Is that my precious cargo was LOVED.

My precious cargo was PROTECTED...

My precious cargo was REVERED...

I did my best.

I have loved to my greatest ability.

I offer my children back to the world as my gift.

I've taught them to give...

To love...

To forgive...

And, today, I no longer control them.

Please, world, be kind to my two...

They are...

Babies of mine.

A Thousand Beautiful Things...

2009-09-27T16:48:00.002-05:00

It's morning, and I get up.

My body aches; my heart hurts; my mind is dull...

It's a hard stretch, but out of habit, I arise.

Nothing is different than when I fell asleep, except that everything I left yesterday...

Has followed me to today.

It's a struggle, but I remind myself that everyone else is just like me...

Discontent...

Unsettled...

Wondering if there really is, indeed, a reason to continue...

But, in front of me dangles a string.

I look at it, and, as ever, I contemplate it.

That string is called "hope".

As much as I'd like to not grasp onto it and let its wings carry me until tomorrow...

Long before daylight...

As the rest of the world sleeps, I grab hold.

And, that tiny string carries me through my day.

I'd like to think that I am different...

That not all of us are living just like me, but, in fact, we are.

I am full of "woulda", "coulda", "shoulda"...

Yes,

I can...

I could...

I would...

And, I did.

As much as life told me I couldn't...

I did.

Today will be no different.

The sunrise challenges me...

I stare it in the face and challenge it back.

Neither the sun;

Nor the moon;

Nor can life;

Beat me.

I will win.

I always do.

I will forever fight to see the beatiful things...

A thousand of them.

My children;

My mother;

My sisters;

My friends;

Not one thing on earth can overcome their beauty.

Not one thing can overcome those...

Thousand beautiful things.

The Dance...

2009-09-22T17:59:00.003-05:00

I remember the first time I ever heard this song.

Not much of a fan of country music, but this guy, Garth Brooks, had a concert playing on HBO, and well, I heard that Billy Joel made an appearance when they taped it, and, people, I just had to see my Billy...

So, with anticipation, I watched...

The only thing I remember about the two hours in front of the television?

This song.

Very rarely am I moved by something that literally carries me.

This song does that.

It is a gentle reminder that, no matter how much I'm hurting;

No matter how much I regret;

No matter where I am in life...

That my life is just as it should be.

It shakes me back into reality, making me understand that life is simply a dance...

Sometimes, we're on top of our game, on the dance floor and the world watches us in wonder...

Sometimes, we're the lonely girl in the corner without a partner...

Sometimes, we are face to face with the one we love and move together in perfect harmony and unison...

Sometimes, we're left on the dance floor alone and embarassed, exposed for all to see...

Sometimes, we dance with a stranger, and it is hard to find our footing and set the right pace...

And, sometimes, we're the girl that really just wanted to stay home and opted out of the dancing at all.

Our partners are our friends, our family, our lovers, our husbands and sometimes, complete strangers...

No one more important or less significant than the other, because they are the music to our life's dance...

And, that leaves me thinking...

What legacy do I leave behind to others in my life's dance?

I hope I dance a dance of inspiration;

Of friendship;

Of love;

Of understanding;

Of unencumbered acceptance.

I hope that my dance shows others not to be afraid;

Not to give up...

NEVER give up.

I hope that my dance shows others that you don't have to be a perfect dance partner...

You just need to laugh and enjoy it while it lasts.

I hope that my dance, although most awkward, teaches others that they can learn to enjoy it, too.

I hope that my dance shows others that, even though you may not know all the steps, get out on that dance floor and fake it 'til you make it...

Most of the dances are reptition, anyway.

I hope that my dance is remembered as one of laughter;

Of compassion;

Of heart.

I hope that my dance is, much like this song, a gentle reminder to never...

Miss the dance.

Fly Away from Here...

2009-09-19T13:09:00.003-05:00

It was still dark, about 5:00 a.m., Eastern time, when my phone went off.

Back home, it was 4:00 a.m., and I was confused.

I stirred in the darkness, and said aloud, "Who is texting me at 4 in the morning?"

The answer was easy.

I looked at my phone and giggled to my partner, "It's Swiller."

"Why am I surprised?", he asked in half-disbelief.

"Mornin fucker." The text read.

I giggled, as I read it aloud.

"Mornin back, bigger fucker." I responded.

I laid in the bed with my phone to my chest, awaiting what would come next, and...

Nothing.

Eventually, I placed the phone back at the bedside, and the darkness of morning continued until daylight.

He never responded back.

Not odd...

Just, Swiller.

I had felt so badly about that weekend.

I had never told Swiller the ENTIRE truth...

About where I was...

Whom I was with...

At the end of the day, honestly, I just didn't wanna hear it.

The boy thought no man was good enough for me...

The boy thought every man had an ulterior motive...

He trusted NO MAN, when it came to me.

And, well, I took the path of least resistence...

I took the path of ambiguity...

He knew I was in Florida, and yet..

He did not know with whom I was with.

And, yeah, people, I LIKED it that way.

You've never dealt with Swiller, until you've dealt with Swiller thinking you're dealing with someone he does not agree with you dealing with...

So, mid-weekend vacation, my partner and I agree with this statement:

"You will never understand our relationship, so, forget it. I love the boy with my whole heart, and that is just the way it is."

Which is probably why he accepted a before-daylight text without a problem.

I never heard from my boy again that day...

Until I arrived home, late that night.

I remember his last statment to me, "Why are you still awake when it's almost time for you to get up?"

And, we laughed.

I went to sleep that night, never knowing that my life was changing...

The next day, he was quite obviously...missing.

Not too odd.

Maybe he was sleeping away his medication...

Maybe he had been up too late the night before.

On Tuesday, I looked for him...

He was nowhere he should have been.

I called his house.

No answer.

No big surprise.

He kept that phone unplugged.

So, I called his cell phone...

I got his voicemail.

I cannot even tell you what it said...

All I know is that he had disguised his voice in his most AWFULLY disguised voice.

I left him a voicemail...

"Oh my GOD! Your message sounds like the devil. Call me. I'm scared."

He did not call me that day...

I knew something was wrong.

I held onto hope.

I awoke at 2 a.m. the next morning...

DETERMINED I would find him...

He had other plans.

What I found was a message from his sister...

I knew what she had to say, but...

I did not want to hear it.

So, I ignored her for a bit, but there she was...

Her message begging to be heard, and eventually...

I had to give in.

And, at that precise second, life as I knew it...

Changed.

I know I'm a bleeding heart to some...

Just waiting for me to quit crying.

Trust me.

I've BEEN you watching ME...

And, I know what it's like to wait on someone that it seems time forgot.

And, to those people, I sincerely apologize...

I now know what you were feeling, and I am sorry for my unsympathetic manor.

No man, nor can time, dictate to you when...

It is time to stop hurting.

All I can tell you is that, I look at the date...

And, to me...

The calendar states it has been two full months since I heard from him.

And, I HATE that freaking calendar...

Making it more real than it needs to be.

I FREAKING HATE...

All measurements of time.

Because it just separates me from him...

A little more each day.

Because, you see, my boy is in the arms of the angel...

Far away from here...

And, my friends, as sad as I am for me...

I am glad for him.

I Miss You...

2009-09-17T14:40:00.003-05:00

So, now I realize it's NOT just me...

YOU are sending those signs to everyone...

And old photo comment there...

A friend suggestion here...

It IS you...

You STILL can't put it behind you, can you?

It's ok, buddy.

We WANT you to remind us.

Two months later, and, my brother, people still love you...

They still look for you...

They still reach out for you.

They are no different than me, as much as I'd like to think I'm "special"...

I'm not.

You are with us all...

I love that.

You had your unique way of letting us know that you were giving away part of yourself that was "only for you"...

It was your gift.

It was your talent.

It was your heart.

It was your soul.

I don't believe I will ever see the day that I don't grieve you...

Miss you...

Wish you were here.

Life is just...less.

It's less happy...

It's less joyful...

It is just...less.

I really don't like the world without you in it.

Although, I know I must accept it.

So much has changed in the last two months...

I'm losing my dad.

I'm scared...

And, I know if you were here, you'd say something to soothe me in a way no one else could.

Seriously.

What am I going to do when he's gone?

You know why I'm so scared, right?

But, it's not all bad...

I've met some unbelievable people that I probably wouldn't have if you were here...

They would, more than likely, be familiar names I'd see from time to time.

My boy, you surrounded yourself with beautiful people!

So loving...

So kind...

So accepting...

That part of losing you has been beautiful.

I've seen the other side of you...

And, yanno?

It ain't so bad, buddy.

Have I made you proud?

I really hope I have.

I hope I have done everything as you would have wanted.

All I ever wanted was to do you proud.

Did you have any idea?

Did you know how important you were to me?

Honestly, buddy, don't worry if you didn't.

It wasn't until you were gone that I realized what a HUGE part of my life you were...

It wasn't until I had to start letting people know what was going on that I realized what an impression you had left in my world...

Starting with my children.

And, my mother.

And, my closest friends.

You were here, as if you lived and breathed right here in this tiny town...

You were here.

And, you left your mark.

My ENTIRE family discussed you at the dinner table the other night.

I didn't like it.

It made me uncomfortable...

But Mother remembered you...

And, she talked of your sweetness.

You touched her, buddy.

She LOVED you...

She thought you were "precious".

Hehehe...

Grandma thought you were precious.

I'd tease you about that if you were here...

And, you'd no doubt say, "That's because she doesn't know what I'm thinking about her daughter!"

What were you thinking when you thought of me?

I hope you remember you, me and Diana...

Laughing...

Crying...

Just, loving one another.

Because, brother, we LOVED you.

I wait on the day that it doesn't hurt.

That day won't come.

That day is merciless.

I wait on the day when I can speak of you and not feel the tears.

It hasn't gotten here yet.

It has no heart.

You, my friend, had a heart.

It beat within you strong as an ox.

For us all, buddy.

Your heart did beat for us all...

And, I miss you.

We all...

Miss you.

I Drink Alone...

2009-09-13T19:52:00.003-05:00

I drank a Bud Light this morning.

It wasn't out of longing...

It was because it was time to start the grill, and, well, honestly, I was out of anything else to drink until Louisiana law would allow me to purchase something better.

As the taste of the medium yellow liquid hit my lips, I immediately thought of you.

My mind went back to last year and that day we drank beer from morning til midnight.

I freaking hated beer, but with you, somehow, it just...fit.

And, I remembered.

I remembered all last summer...

Hurricanes...

Lazy Sundays....

Fishing...

Saturdays mowing my lawn...

I remembered it all.

And, I thought of you...

Of your smile;

Your laughter;

Your touch.

And, as much as I wanted to miss that, I couldn't.

Because, you see, with you, each joyful time was made up with something so dark, it was foreign to me.

And, one full year later, I am glad it is over.

You played me.

You played me well, even.

I trusted you.

You came to me disguised as my friend;

Someone I could depend upon...

Believe in...

Someone who would always be there.

But, you really weren't.

I rememeber when I first realized you weren't the person I thought you were..

I didn't want to believe, although, the evidence was right in front of me...

You LIED to me...

The one who thought she could not be lied to and not know it from the word go.

You made me believe in you...

In all you said you stood for...

And, I was but a puppet in your matinee...

Little more than a marionette, on a string, at your will.

Did you enjoy watching my arms and legs move at your discretion?

I hope so.

I hope it was worth something.

You ruined me.

I've spent so much time blaming others...

An ex husband...

An ex lover...

An ex friend...

And, in all honesty, the problem with me is: you.

For me to trust you so easily must mean there is issue with ME...

And, because I couldn't trust you...

I cannot trust me.

And, because of you...

I drink alone.

You Raise Me Up...

2009-09-05T17:52:00.003-05:00

He's on the decline...

The hospitalization Wednesday afternoon cemented it for me.

I await tomorrow...

When I will be able to see him for the first time since then...

Oh, how I love him...

He is, and since the day I first laid eyes on him, has been, my hero.

He is my dad...

The one who chose me.

He has loved me...

Comforted me...

Made things right for me...

And, today, it is out of my hands to decide what is right for him.

I remember the first time I saw him...

Looking just like "Papa Smurf" (no joke).

I was 18 when my mother first introduced us.

That was 24 years ago.

He's been my dad longer than my natural dad was given on this earth to know me...

And, he has loved me every moment, of every day, since that very second.

I have loved him, too.

I am faced with losing him...

Not tomorrow, or even the next day...

But the unmeasurable cruelty of disease is upon us all...

And, it may well be that the man I know is now gone...

Replaced by a look-a-like.

And, I am not prepared for what I will find tomorrow.

If he is "right", I don't think I can take the tears that are inevitable...

If he is not "right", I'm not sure I can face the shell of the man he was.

The only thing I do know for sure is that I love him...

He raises me up.

Forever Young...

2009-08-31T19:33:00.002-05:00

"This is not as strange as you think it is, sweetie. You lost your friend. Your life is different. Your problem is accepting that you have the right to grieve. It's ok to hurt; It's ok to accept; It's ok to heal. Time, and only time, will tell you when it's time to proceed. I really think you're expecting to much from yourself too soon. Right now, we just need to give you a little first aid, and the rest will fall in place. Are you ok with that?"

I held onto the tissue I had grabbed from the box and just looked at her...

Through my haze of tears, I was trying to guess her age and thinking, secretly, that she was crazier than I was...

But, I obliged her. "Ok."

And, for the first time in over a month, I listened to someone other than myself.

I was given suggestions on how to get through the next week until I would see her again on the following Friday.

I committed them to memory, promising myself I would put them into practice as soon as I left her office.

Our time together ended, and I walked through the waiting room, embarassed for the couple that had come in behind me.

Obviously, they were married and seeking counseling...

I purposefully did not glance their way, nor they, mine.

I walked out into the sprinkling rain that had begun, and for the first time...

In a long time...

I had a hopeful smile on my lips.

I realized I COULD do this...

I realized I WASN'T crazy...

I realized I WOULD be ok...

And, this time, it was with permission.

I could decide to be ok and not feel as though I were betraying him.

He would want me to heal...

According to her, if I only opened my heart and my mind, I was surrounded by him every second of every day...

I only just needed to allow myself to see him there.

According to her, he's that voice that guides me...

The one that I've heard loudest in the last month...

The one that tells me, "do this", and "don't do that"...

According to her, that is him talking to me.

According to her, our relationship is not over.

It is now, simply, on another plain...

And, I must tune myself in to that.

And, in reality, if I really think about it and get honest with myself...

A spiritual relationship is all he and I ever really had, anyway.

Except, according to her, our relationship has reached a whole new level...

And, I should embrace it now...

Because, before, we had never interacted physically...

According to her, now, he is all around me...

A luxury his physical life never gave me.

We talked about him...

I told her of how much I loved him...

I told her of his innocence...

I told her of his hopes...

His dreams...

And, in the end, how they were squelched by something stronger than him;

And, stronger than me, or anyone else that loved him.

According to her, although this is hard for anyone to accept, we should be joyful...

He is free.

According to her, none of us really know the confines of that magnitude of illness, and we are not fit to judge...

Only he knew what he was feeling...

Just as I only know what I am feeling.

According to her, I have a champion now...

Someone who will move heaven and earth to protect me;

And, I should be glad...

Many a person in this world has never been fortunate enough to have a guardian angel like me...

According to her, I should smile instead of cry...

According to me, I think I will trust her...

Because, only then, does he remain...

Forever young.

The Laws of Attraction and Passion...

2009-08-29T20:32:00.003-05:00

Mid-sentence, as I tried to bite into my shrimp po-boy, I stopped. I had to apologize.

"Nadja, I'm sorry, but someone has my attention, and I'm embarassed about it."

She grinned. "I know. They have your full attention."

"Ok, I'm gonna tell you who it is, but first, I gotta tell you this: He's balding; he's older; he's grubbing on his lunch like he hasn't eaten in days, and for some reason, I think he's hot."

"It's the guy in the blue shirt, at the front table," I told her, as she turned to see him.

She agreed. "Ok, I get it."

"Really?" I asked her.

"No, not really, but you get it, so I'm ok with it."

"Swear to God, I wish this was a bar..." I trail off, as we giggle.

"I would SO be over there and introduce myself," I continue on.

As we forge on, our laugh swelling at the ridiculous thought, I continue, "Right now, though, I'd be scared to approach him, since we already know my stuff has made plenty a good man go CRAZY! He just might choke, and we've already ascertained he's really, really hungry. I'm just not sure he can keep up."

She and I continue with our conversation about...well, really, nothing...and my friend notices my glance going back and forth between her and the mystery that lies four tables ahead of me.

I wish I could put my finger on it, but I can't.

Once again, if only I could identify it, I could push forward...

Starvation abated, he began to feed himself a little slower, and she said, "You are completely enthralled."

"Yeah, I am. Wish I knew why."

"It's chemistry," she says.

And, I'm left silently wondering if our pheremones are left there, mid-air, dancing with one another...

Each calling to the other in some form of spiritual, erotic dance...

Because, I can so see us enter-twining...

I feel it in my soul..

And, thank God, I am with Nadja, who knows me...

She knows this is real and happening before her eyes.

I have become a tigress, stalking my prey.

I will know him.

Before the clock strikes one, I will know him.

We finish our lunch, go to the counter and pay our check...

We walk outside and place ourselves on the "waiting" bench.

We chat; we smoke a cigarette; we chat a little more, both of us knowing what I am waiting on...

My prey is inside...

Enjoying his smothered pork chop...

And, because of simply chemistry, I am ok with that, when normally, I just might be...repulsed...

But, yet, I am waiting outside.

I'll catch his glance.

I know it.

And, as our conversation continues, he, FINALLY, walks outside...

I glance over as he walks to his truck...

He glances over at us...

And, I look at my friend...

"It's over. If only 49 years ago he'd have worked on that walk, he and I could've been. I'm over him now. He walks funny."

We giggle, and she goes to her car and I go to mine.

Such is the life of girlfriends...

Able to fall in and out of love in five minutes, and...

There is no need to explain.

We all need a little...

Passion.

I Don't Wanna Be Alone...

2009-08-23T18:48:00.002-05:00

Sometime today, or maybe last night in my sleep, the thought occurred to me, "I don't want to wake up on my birthday and it be just another day."

Most of you don't get that statement. That's ok. To those of us that do, it's a sobering thought.

This past week has been surrounded by my girls...

My single friends...

Maybe even a few that aren't, but feel as though they are...

As I talked with each of them, I realized we all have the same fear...

None of us want to be alone.

And, yet, we are...

Maybe tucked inside our homes with our children...

Maybe tucked inside our homes with our husbands and our children...

Either way, it's a lonely existence.

This life is not what we expected it would be, and I suspect, never will be what we expected.

No young girl ever aspires to be 42, twice divorced, the single mother of two children, working harder than anyone should be expected to work...

No young girl ever thinks she'll awaken to a 20 year nightmare of a marriage that has destroyed any self-confidence she may have ever had and leave her wondering where her value lies...

With nothing but another day of the same thing to look forward to.

Yet, many of us do.

And, you feel ungrateful when you do, because, hey, take a look around...

You're surrounded by great friends; great family; great neighbors...

Every comfort anyone could want to have, but...

Something is missing.

And, if you could put your finger on it, all your problems would be solved...

But you can't.

The missing piece cannot be identified.

No amount of soul-searching in this world will ever be able to put a name to it.

You're ok...

Life is good...

The bills are paid...

There's food in the fridge...

No one's going hungry tonight, and yet, you STILL are not. quite. happy.

I get it.

I really do.

Sometimes, ok just doesn't cut it.

We build fortresses around our hearts; our children; our lives and refuse to allow anyone to infiltrate our comfort zone.

As much as we may want to let down that gate and let someone in, the voices inside our heads warn us that it's not the right time...

It's not the right place...

Something just isn't right.

And, so, we continue on. One day fades into the next, and the the next day fades into the day after.

But, people, my biggest fear is that one day, we will awaken and it will be 20 years from now, and then...what?

Panic sets in when that thought hits me.

I think that, somewhere in my mind I've got it pegged that, when I'm ready, and only when I'm ready, I'll settle down with my best male friend for the last four years and we'll marry...

But, as I'm making this decision, he may well find someone else.

Then, more panic...

But, I'm a big girl, I try explaining to myself.

If it doesn't happen, it just wasn't meant to be.

I'm then reminded of my second marriage.

Which was the single most lonely place on this earth I have ever been.

And, even though I wasn't "alone"...

I was, indeed, alone.

And, if that's what this world has to offer me, then, well, yeah...

I just may want to be alone.

Time...

2009-08-20T20:28:00.002-05:00

One day, I'm sure I'll quit writing about this...

One day.

Just not today...

I worry that some will think I am sitting, just marinating in pain...

I worry that those that know me best will be concerned I am showing no progress...

I worry that those I grieve with most will worry I'm moving too quickly.

For all of you, I ask you to please do not worry about me.

I am fine.

I truly, truly am.

I just need...

Time.

I think back, and in my memory, I am 4 years old...

With the worst haircut any child could ever imagine having...

A gift from my drunken father with an electric razor, if memory serves me correctly...

Strange.

At 42, I only remember, "Do you want your hair to be cut," being asked by my father.

And, me, at the tender age of 4, not knowing I should mistrust an electric razor held by a shaking hand, saying, "OK!"

And, people, I had a buzz cut.

I remember mourning those golden locks that I had just been admiring in the mirror.

I'm pretty sure I was thinking I looked just like Mary on "Mary Tyler Moore"...

Not anymore...

Then, I am in the third grade, arguing with the girl that lives next door about who has the best Barbie Motor Home...

Mine is in color.

Hers is not.

She insists hers is best, because she had hers first.

I remember my sister telling me, "She's just jealous. Ignore her."

I choose to do just that, because, obviously mine was better...

My flowers were pink. Hers were brown.

Then, I am 12, playing softball...

And, people, I so seriously sucked at it...

No hand/eye coordination...

A non-talent, which follows me to this day.

Matter of a fact, my children are so athletic that, at times, I wonder how it is that they can be mine...

And, yet, they are.

But, yes, we were talking about softball...

And, I remember seeing my mother in those bleachers...

I was never going to touch that field...

But...

My mother was there.

Watching me...

In the dugout.

There was not a snowball's chance in hell I was hitting the field, but my mother was there...

Just in case three of my team mates all broke their arms and I just happened to be needed...

I jump forward...

I am 20 and just about to be married when I hear the nurses voice tell me, "Pam, it's positive, babe."

And, with those four words, my life changed...

I was no longer fighting for me...

I had a larger reason to fight.

Something that was bigger than me and that I could not understand.

I have never quit that fight.

And, I never will...

She needs me...

Even now, at the age of 21, she needs me.

He needs me.

He's so big and tall and strong and handsome...

But, he still needs me.

I will soldier on...

Because of him...

Because of her...

And, because of the love I have for the two of them, I have learned about unconditional love for others...

Perhaps, he was my first true experiment outside of the maternal bond...

He needed me.

I needed him.

Like a mother tiger protected her cubs, I protected him...

And, like a lion protecting his den, he protected me...

From that moment on, my life changed...

I realized what it was to truly open your heart and soul and innermost thoughts to someone, without regard for what the world thought...

Because, to him, it didn't matter.

All that mattered to him was that I was ok.

And, today, one month later, I promise him that I am ok.

There is no need to worry for me...

I am ok.

All I need is...

Time.

Tell Me Why...

2009-08-17T19:38:00.002-05:00

So many times I ask myself this question.

It's just one word...

"Why?"

Today, this very day, more than ever, I realize I do not know why...

I am just so grateful I got to be part of your beginning...

Your middle...

Your end...

Everyone tells me that in time, it will get better, but I respectfully disagree...

Time has passed...

And...

It does not get better.

I am only left with more questions...

Such as, "Why?"

And, you are quiet.

And, you will never answer.

And, that's ok with me.

You really don't have to.

As much as I hurt, I understand.

I understand...

Probably even more than I want to pretend...

I understand...

Just exactly...

Why.

What I don't understand is the reason why you didn't reach out.

Dial my number.

I'd have answered.

I always did.

Did you really think it was too big for me to understand?

Seriously.

From the moment I met you, I knew you...

I understood you...

I'd have gotten it.

I always did.

This would have been no different.

Oh, sweet angel, couldn't you see?

You really couldn't, could you?

My life is so empty without you.

I hate it...

I get up...

I go on...

And, yet...

You are not here with me.

Everything I know is so foreign...

I find comfort nowhere...

I have no home, because you are gone.

I busy myself doing what it is I think you'd want me to do...

Only to question myself...

My actions...

Our entire relationship.

Seriously.

Oh my God, didn't you know I loved you?

Didn't you know that losing you would kill me?

Didn't you know I'm not as strong as you as always thought?

I'm not.

You overestimated me...

I only wish I were half the person you thought I was.

Oh, sweet sunshine, didn't you get it?

I am nothing without you.

You were always my strength...

You were always my voice...

You were everything I am not and never will be...

And, I just want to know...

Why?

Dog and Butterfly...

2009-08-14T21:04:00.003-05:00

For those who know me, it's no mystery...

Most of my innocent pleasure is found with my two girls...

Dottie and Dani...

Littermates...

A mix of Border Collie and Sheltie...

Too big for their own good, and definitely, too big to be house dogs...

And, yet, they are my house dogs.

They think they are poodles, or perhaps...Chihuahua...

I don't know.

All I really know is that, at 60 pounds each, they think they are the perfect fit for my lap.

And, I watched my girls this morning...

Dottie...

Her regal, white with black "dots", jumping in the air, chasing butterflies...

No intention to hurt the beautiful butterfly...

Just...

Interest...

In the butterfly...

About how it is that he flies and she cannot...

About the butterfly's contribution to this world...

Yes, Dottie has a curiousity...

She just wants to know about the beautiful, elusive butterfly...

And that, in this world, she cannot be elusive, although, yet, beautiful, she most definitely is...

In Dottie, this morning, I realized something that is within us all...

We mean no ill-will, and yet...

Our curiousity can cause such harm to those around us...

In wondering how it is that the beautiful enigma before us soars...

When we are yet on foot...

We can jump into the air, if only for a second...

To feel what it is that the beautiful mystery feels at it soars above...

Only to accidentally snap the beauty of what we so intently are trying to understand...

Until there is no life left...

It is dead, and we will never have opportunity to delve into a world unknown...

Ever again.

As if we were, dog and butterfly...

In that Sleepy Little Town....

2009-08-12T17:34:00.003-05:00

Yanno, people, I like to think I am above my raising...

Sometimes; however, life slaps me in the face and I'm brought back to the reality of the fact that...

I

live

in

the

COUNTRY!!!

Let's go back to Sunday...

Now, follow me here, because I know some of you reading are new, and you have never heard of Cherie...

Cherie has been my best friend since I was 18 years old.

Every, single second of my adult life has been shared with her, either in person or by blow-by-blow description...

And, the last two years, there have been alot of blow-by-blow replays, because Cherie moved about an hour from here, exactly two years ago.

And, on Sunday, I got a call from her.

"I'm coming into town on Tuesday. Have clean sheets."

"Ok. What's up?"

"Joey's daddy died. The funeral is Wednesday."

Now, let's back up...

Cherie worked with Joey since we were 25. The thought of my sweet friend losing his dad broke my heart, so I go on...

"Ok, I'll check the paper for the right time, because yours will be wrong. I'll put it on my calendar. I'll have a clean bed, but I ain't cookin'."

"You have to. I'll be hungry."

"Yeah, and Sonic is around the corner."

Jump forward to this morning at 9:45 a.m.

Cherie and I met at Walgreen's, because, in reality, even when she called on Sunday, I knew she was not coming to town last night. I knew she was driving in this morning.

In fact, I didn't even wash the sheets.

So, I jump in her car and we are headed to the funeral home, chatting all the way about sweet Joey and how much we were hurting for him.

I look at her, "I don't guess we've seen each other in two months!"

"Nope. Four. I was just counting it up."

"You've lost weight!" I exclaimed.

"God, no. It's a mother fucking Spanks, and I am mother fucking dying."

"Dip shit! That stuff is no good during summer. What the hell is wrong with you? Driving all day in that? You're a retard."

"Yep, but for that one roll of back fat that won't go in, I'm a thin-looking retard."

"Ok. I'll give you that. You win."

So, we get into the parking lot of the funeral home, and I'll save you the story about the complete stranger that came to my door and scared the living hell out of me trying to open it to be, what I presume, gentlemanly...

And, we walk in...

And, people, let me tell you what, and God forgive me for the disrespect...

The. freaks. were. on. parade...

Freak Number 1 was, in fact, our dear friend's wife...

Cherie and I exchanged glances as we walked into the state room and she shook her head...

She could read my mind.

She was telling me with that shake of her head, "She is not pregnant."

I give her that look that says, "Yes. She is."

She looks back and her eyes tell me, "No. It's just a pudge."

My eyes ask her, "Why in the hell isn't she in the Spanks?"

Her eyes say, "Because she just....isn't."

Jump forward 10 minutes. We are sitting in rocking chairs on the outside walkway when Freak Number 1 comes outside with us and it is then that I notice Fashion Violation number two...

Once again, I glance over at Cherie...

She mouths, "I see it."

My eyes look at her and ask, "WTF?"

Her eyes say back, "I don't know."

My eyes say, "I know she's cheating now. She's in a thong."

Her eyes say, "Her biggest crime is wearing a thong in knit."

My eyes say, "No. Correction. Thongs that are two sizes too small while wearing knit."

Her head acknowledges I'm correct, and soon after we file inside to the chapel.

And, people, it is so cold inside there, it's scary.

We laugh about sitting on one another's lap for warmth, but it's an uncomfortable laugh, because I really do think I may need her body draped across my front to keep me warm.

Never to worry; however, because two couples sit in front of us to block the draft.

Only when we are no longer frightened of dying from exposure do we notice the music...

It's definitely gospel, because I recognize the melody...

But, yet...

It has a definite beat.

And, you can dance to it...

She looks at me, "What is up with that music?"

I whisper back, "I have the sudden urge to two-step, and I don't even know how."

And, suddenly, her eyes catch it...

She looks at me, and glances immediately in front of me...

I follow her eyes and I see it...

Our savior from the cold...

Our knight in shining armor...

In his three-piece suit...

With. the. label. still. on. his. left. arm...

Has now become Freak Number 2...

I look at her and ask, "Where is my ticket book, because I need to issue three citations immediately, and that doesn't even include the chicks in here with closed- toe shoes or panty hose!"

We giggle.

I look back at her...

"Seriously. I've never heard gospel music in such a way that I feel I need a drink and a cigarette and a dance floor. Swear to God, I am about to bust out in the Electric Slide."

Sad part is, I was serious.

Even worse. She knew it.

Worse than that?

The family filed in to a most uplifting version of "How Great Thou Art"...

Oddly enough, I thought about that wedding dance video passing around, and I had to stiffle a chuckle...

And.

It.

Got.

Worse.

From.

There.

At some point, I looked at her and told her, "I'm gonna go dick punch that dude if he doesn't shut up."

("That Dude" is Freak Number 3.)

He was giving the eulogy.

I wasn't kidding.

I had grandiose ideas of getting up and punching him straight in the baby maker.

I mean, seriously, it couldn't have made it any more tacky, right?

And, thankfully, EVERYONE was through talking and the preacher took the podium...

And.

He.

Had.

NOTHING.

To.

Say.

Because, you see, it had already been said by Speaker Number 1, Freak Number 3 and Speaker Number 3...

We said a prayer...

And, we were gone.

All in the utmost respect, of course...

Tears In Heaven...

2009-08-06T18:47:00.002-05:00

Aw, man, it's been a long couple of weeks, right?

Yeah. I know. I've been here.

I've felt it; I've refused to feel it; I've bathed in it; I've cried over it; I've rejected it...

Oh my God, people, how I have hurt...

But, then again, I didn't have to tell you that.

You all knew.

I loved him.

I adored him.

I would have given everything just to protect him.

And, all along, you all knew that.

Just as you knew he'd have done it all for me.

I really don't know that my heart will ever heal and I will be whole again...

Not melodramatic...

Just...simple truth.

Yanno, I've spent the last 16 days thinking about all of us...

About him...

About me...

And, the one thing I have realized is that losing him is the single hardest thing I've ever been asked to do...

Not because my physical life was affected...

Because, in reality, it wasn't...

But, because my heart was changed on the day he left me.

There is a hole there that no one can fill...

Ever.

Which got me to thinking about all of you...

About him...

About me...

And about how all this started nearly 4 years ago...

But for a writing experiment I had decided to become part of, I may have missed out...

I just may have exchanged my role in my comfortable, predictable physical world...

For the one that awaited me...

And, it awaited me with open arms.

Because, you see, it had help from my friend...

A little guy from Canada that just grabbed on to my words and held them to his heart...

And, his words grabbed mine...

And, from there, we became a duo...

With ferosity, protecting one another...

Not because the other deserved it, but because we wanted to.

Oh my God. I loved him.

And, how he loved me.

I feel him here with me.

He speaks to me.

He tells me I'm wrong...

He tells me I'm messing up...

Not much different than before, except that it's not a phone call this time...

It's a voice that sits beside me, everyday, and demands that I change.

Virtual grief is just as hard and just as real as physical grief.

I look, and my life is right...

I have my job...

I have my children...

Nothing "looks" wrong.

But, inside, where it counts, EVERYTHING is wrong.

My phone won't go off at 3:00 am. anymore...

My IM won't go off at 2:00 a.m. anymore...

And, even on the off chance that it does, I think it's him.

It's not...

And, it never will be again.

Ever.

That part is so hard.

It rips me apart.

But, I hold on to hope.

He is at peace...

We are at war: internally and with one another...

Please...

Let's rest.

Just for now...

Let's rest.

Most of you, I will never lay my eyes upon.

That does not mean you are less...

Because, my friends, I loved him...

And, yet, I was never able to see him...

To hug him...

To touch him...

But, he was real.

He was part of my life.

He was my bright spot.

He made my life better...

You all do, too.

My promise to you is that I love you.

If you are part of my world, I love you.

I carry parts of you with me, all day, every day...

Please know that.

Please know I love you.

And, one day, I will see you...

In Heaven.

Landslide...

2009-07-28T17:16:00.000-05:00

“What do you want from life, Pam?”

I just sat there and looked at him. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I had no answer.

The fact that I had no answer embarassed me even more.

What? Someone asks me what I want and I don’t have an answer….Everyone is supposed to know what they want.

I looked at him.

“I want my children to grow up to be happy, productive adults.”

He looked at me again, his eyes daring me to look away.

“I realize that. What does Pam want for no one other than Pam?”

I was busted. I couldn’t fool him.

I just held his gaze and as the tears began to flow, admitted, for the first time ever, through two husbands and countless, beautiful friends, he was the first person for me to answer honestly.

“I don’t know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had that conversation back in January after a very dark, very long December.

I’ve been doing fairly well since then. I’ve coped. I’ve managed. I’ve laughed.
I’ve lived.

And, yet, through it all…

I’ve been haunted by that question for six months now.

And, it’s time I quit hiding.

Honestly, know what I want?

I want to live on a lake.

I want to have horses.

I want to sip coffee on my pier each morning and watch the sun come up.

I want my two dogs there beside me, and I want them to follow me to the barn as I
groom the horses.

I want to have all day to commune with the peace and beauty that surrounds me.

I want to be surrounded by the amount of love that is inside of me…

I want that to be shown to me by someone else.

I want someone there with me, to share it with.

Trouble is, I just don’t know who.

The real kicker is, I may never know.

For, you see, I am bound by fear.

I am scared to let anyone in, because I’ve struggled so hard to have my life neat and tidy…

No one around me equals no one to disappoint me.

No one around me equals no hurt.

No one around me assures that I never suffer again.

No one around me means that no one else suffers for my weaknesses.

Because, at the end of all my soul-searching, I find that I am tired.

I am tired of correcting all the world’s problems.

I am tired of constantly making things right for everyone else.

I am tired of facing this world, isolated and alone, every day.

And, I realize I want to change.

But “change” and “Pam” do no belong in the same sentence.

I am near incapable of change.

I fight it.

I hate it.

I will put myself near under to try to prevent it.

Although I need someone to step in and tell me to rest and let them handle it, there is a part of me that identifies that as weakness…

I cannot allow anyone to see me as weak.

So, I trudge on…

A mass of confusion…

A mass of hurt…

A mass of regret…

A mass of uncertainty…

But, most importantly, within me, lives a mass of hope…

And, as long as hope is there, I can face it all.

Even a landslide.

And, Know They Love You...

2009-07-16T07:59:00.000-05:00

A broken heart, at the age of 17, seems like the end of the world. So many times over the last few weeks I’ve seen that heart break over and over, as the end of their 2 month relationship painfully grinded to its last halt.

As a mother, it’s very hard to watch and not say those words, “She’s really not the girl for you, anyway.”

I’ve been 17. Those words are the same as gasoline thrown on a flame, causing the spark to fully ignite, refreshing his determination to make it work.

I am his mother.

He simply would have had to prove me wrong.

As we talked this morning, his heartbreak turning to victory in his soul, all I could say was, “I love you and I’m very proud of you.”

At 42, there are lessons I’ve learned through this life that I hope my children don’t have to reach my age to learn, let alone suffer through my mistakes and own heartbreak to learn them.

Things like, let your friends see all your flaws. Each and every one of your flaws. If they can’t accept them, they really are not your friend. For it is only with those people that remain you can truly be yourself and find peace when times are darkest and you don’t want to face the world. At times, it will be those people that face the world in your stead.

Be the type of friend that you want to have yourself. (See above!)

Be honest. If the girl at the drive-thru gives you too much change, give it back. Chances are, she’s already made that mistake once today, and that two dollars she just accidentally gave you may be the difference in her having a job at the end of the night when she counts her drawer.

Be loyal. Never give up a friend’s secret. They have confided in you because they had no one else to share their burden. To place that much importance on you is a privilege. Don’t ever make anyone regret giving you that place of honor in their life.

Be kind. Cliché’ as it may be, you may be the only kindness someone sees in a day. Kindness is win/win.

The people you trust most in life don’t have to be family. Your family can fail you. True friends never will.

Never make one person the center of your universe. That person can betray you, either on purpose, or on accident. Always have a backup plan of your own, and know that love does not mean self-sacrifice.

Visit your grandparents. One day they’ll be gone, and you will long for one more chance to hear their voice. Losing them is painful enough. You don’t want to add regret to that pain.

End every conversation with, “I love you.” You never know when it might be the last time you get to say it.

Work hard and give your best effort at any job you do. Believe in what you are doing for a living, even if it’s rolling pizza dough. Be the best dough-roller they’ve ever seen. You never know when you may need that reference when you’re going to the bank to get a loan to open a pizzeria of your own.

Forgive. Always forgive. Too much room in your soul can be occupied by old wounds. Let it go. There is so much freedom in just letting go.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. Just because you forgive someone doesn’t mean you have to open yourself back up for hurt, and it doesn’t mean they must keep a place in your life. It just means you’ve cleansed your soul of the negativity.

Always have a dog. There’s something so comforting to be found in a ball of fur that licks your face in the morning. Even when you don’t feel like laughing, a dog will make you.

Jesus loves you, and there is nothing you could ever do to separate you from His love. Know that above anything else organized religion tries to teach you. Don’t get bogged down by the rules of religion, and don’t ever argue with anyone over their religious beliefs. Just know Jesus loves you and you are forgiven. None of the rest of it really matters, anyway, as long as your life resonates the love of Christ to those you come in contact with daily.

Call your mother. Call her often, even. Your mother is God’s gift to you to shelter you from the world. She understands every thought you have. She knew you before she ever saw you. Her love is everlasting.

And, lastly. No matter what….No matter how bad a fight was, or if you haven’t talked in a couple of days, or if you did something that seems so horrible……remember this….Your mother knows you love her, too.

Long As I Can See the Light...

2009-04-07T05:13:00.000-05:00

It was one of those crazy days last week. Cell phone ringing non-stop, countless pull-overs in various parking lots to take various notes from those calls, impossible deadlines and looming end of month loose ends to tie.....And, down to just a few hours to get it done.

I don't mind it. It is on those days I seem to thrive and I realize my full potential. I accepted long ago that I fly by the seat of my pants and I'm only fooling myself to think I operate any differently.

On this day; however, I was tired. I mean seriously tired. I reached into my purse to pull out my standard crutch - a cigarette - only to realize I was out.

Really not a problem, the drug store was right there, so I pulled in and went inside.

As I stood at the counter, simultaneously making pointless conversation with the cashier and talking business on my phone, I felt eyes on me and I glanced over...

And, there he was...

Big eyes glowing, and his mouth in a full grin.

In that split second, realization occurred within me like never before.

There's no mistaking that look.

It's so pure and so raw that you don't have time to hide it and keep it in check like you normally would.

I was genuinely happy to see him.

Months had passed since I had seen him. Our last conversation went through my head at the speed of light at the precise mili-second my lips began to turn upward in recognition.

As I turned from the counter to walk toward him, my words formed with each step as I whispered into the phone, "I'll have to call you back."

"How are you?"

Our arms took one another in and drew us close as he answered.

I remembered the feel of him. The safety I've found there countless times before came flooding back to my senses and I allowed myself to soak it in.

"I am good. How are you? Besides busy?"

I made some silly gesture with my phone. "Ah, this is continuous. I'm better now that I've seen you."

"What's been happening?" I questioned.

"Not alot, really."

Stupid, silly grins still shone on both our faces and we kept one another close.

I wondered if the time we spent together was running through his memory like it was running through mine, then I remembered the look on his face.

Of course it was.

It was undeniable.

The comfort and warmth between us, if only for that moment, was enough to get me through the remainder of my day.

"We should get together soon. I've missed you."

"We could, if you ever had time."

I just grinned at him again. "For you, baby, I've always got time."

My phone began to ring again.

I looked up at him and sighed, "I'm sorry."

"It's ok."

As I answered and took care of the business on the other end of the phone, I took him in...

Beautiful, beautiful man.

Sweet, sweet man.

Ever-accepting of me and each and every one of my flaws.

Why had I never recognized this before?

Or, had I and I just refused to admit it?

What is it that always stops me?

Easy answer.

Fear.

I allowed my mind and my heart to wander there with him for a few seconds.

For that moment, I liked what I saw there.

I believed in what I saw.

Ever so comfortable and secure in his presence.

As always.

The phone conversation ended and it was if we snapped back into reality.

"Um, well, duty calls. I've got to go."

"Yeah, me, too."

We pulled one another close one more time and just lingered there for a second.

"I'm so glad I got to see you. I've been thinking of you."

"Me, too, Pam."

"I'll call you." As the words formed in my mouth, I automatically wanted to take them back.

It was too late.

So many times before I've made that same promise and never come through.

"Ok." He didn't believe me. The light in his eyes was gone.

I wanted to follow it up with an, 'I really will this time', but I didn't.

I grinned at him. "I'll surprise you."

He grinned back. "I like surprises."

"I know. See ya!"

We walked through the doors together into the parking lot, him getting into his truck and me getting into my car.

He pulled from the lot in one direction, and I turned into the other.

And, so is the story of our lives...

Him in one direction.

Me in the other.

But, just for a moment there, I imagined the possibility.

It's not impossible...

Long as I can see the light.

To Dance With My Father Again

2009-04-05T04:42:00.000-05:00

An early morning phone call from my sister started my Saturday morning.

"I'm calling a family meeting today at 2," she let me know.

Knowing she was in from Texas and at my parents' had me quizzing her.

"Everything ok?"

"They're fine. Promise. Just be here at 2. Mother will be gone to her Ladies' Tea for and hour or so. We need to talk while she's not here."

"I'll be there."

The reason for the call was obvious. It's a call we've all made to one another over the last few months, with the previous meetings proving to be futile.

You know when that call comes what discussion will be coming next and no one has to even say anything. It's a daily battle we each fight inwardly in silence. To actually articulate the thought aloud means facing the pain of the decision that lays before us.

As I put down the phone, my mind raced back to the very first family meeting called with all of us as adults.

That particular day, it was Mother who had called the family meeting. Since I still lived at home, I was there at the appointment time by default, and I knew the purpose for her bringing us all together.

She loved him.

He loved her.

They wanted to be married.

They wanted the blessing of all the children.

One by one, my brother and each of my sisters exchanged hugs and happy words with them.

That day, I hung back and just went to my room.

As I sat on my bed, hot, stinging tears came from my eyes and spilled onto my cheeks. I could taste their salt as they made their way down to my lips.

I cried quietly so that no one would hear me. I didn't want to be sad. I wanted to be happy for her.

I had no problem with him, personally. I really didn't. I was just scared for my mother. She had already lost one husband and I had seen her hurt through that.

Certainly by his white hair I could tell he was even older than my real dad. He couldn't possibly live much longer.

It just seemed to me such a risk for her to take. Why do this now after she had finally gotten herself back on her feet?

Eventually, I did come to terms with their decision, and when I opened my mind, ever so slowly, my heart begain to open up to him, too.

He gave me away when I married.

He sat in the waiting room, anxiously anticipating the births of both my children.

He was the first person I sought out when I realized my marriage to my children's father was over. I needed his wisdom over that of even my mother.

And he shared it with me...

And, he held me up through it all.

He has been my protector.

He has been my friend.

He has been my mentor.

He is my dad.

In every sense of the word, he is my dad.

He owns my heart.

I own his.

A few years back, we began to notice that his normally sharp wit was dulling a little.

At first it really wasn't noticeable and we could explain it away as normal aging.

He would forget what he was saying mid-sentence, or go off on a completely different subject during a conversation.

When he began to have trouble walking and began to fall, we knew there was a problem, and had to admit that something really other than normal aging was happening.

A few trips to the doctor and a few procedures later, we all became well-acquainted with the cruel reality of Parkinson's Disease.

The diagnosis wasn't hopeful at all.

In fact, the Neurologist's honesty with me in the hallway let us know that this was a downward spiral and there was no recovery.

His motor skills would continue to slow and then, eventually, his organs would follow. He couldn't give me a time frame on it, but did let me know that my dad was progressing pretty quickly.

His advice to me was, "Get with your siblings and make a plan."

That was three years ago.

My siblings and I are still trying to make that plan.

My mother wants no part of our "plan".

She will always hear us as we talk, but she refuses to listen.

"You children are asking me to do something I can't do. You are asking me to abandon my husband. I cannot do that!"

That's usually where the conversation stops.

25 years after our first family meeting and the subject of yesterday's meeting was the same as the first.

She loves him.

She doesn't want to face life without him.

Where she finds home is where ever he is.

The pain in her eyes is more than any of us can bear, so we usually let the conversation drift, trying to steer it back when we think she's ready to deal with it a little more.

"I cannot put him away for someone else to care for him. He would never do that to me!"

This statement is usually followed by one of us reminding her that she is not putting him away. She would simply be putting him in the hands of a staff of people trained to care for him.

None of us want him deposited onto strangers, never to be seen again. We can put him close, where we can be there each and every day.

"I just can't. Right now, I can still manage. When I can't go anymore, someone prays for me and I wake up refreshed. I can still go on for a while longer."

And, we let it dwindle out in open air, as if we all can see it and touch it. The silence is deafening, and the weight of the burden, although suspended in the air, threatens to bowl us over.

Yet again, she is not ready.

This conversation is over.

We will not mention it again until another series of falls, or another series of "bad days".

The pain and mental stress of being a child caring for a parent is brutal.

You never stop worrying.

You call ten times a day just to make sure they answer.

You never go to bed without your phone beside your head, because you never know when it may ring. Your ear is trained to respond to late night phone calls, and when they come, you answer holding your breath until the first words are uttered through the receiver.

You check their medication to make certain their dosages are correct.

You look in refrigerators and cabinets to make sure they have what they need.

You check laundry hampers to make sure they don't need help with the countless towels, underwear and clothes needed to just maintain one day.

And, all these things, you do out of love and devotion, remembering all the years they did it for you...

You live with the guilt that you can't be there 24 hours a day to do it around the clock...

You live with fear that one parent will suffer because of the others weakness...

You live with the helplessness of knowing that the decision really isn't yours...

And, with all we deal with, I cannot imagine what it must be like to be my mother.

To face the reality that life is now different and that keeping up with the health of the person you love more than anything is actually endangering your own health must be heart-wrenching...

When in her mind, she is determined that one day, she will dance with my father again.