Life changes at any age can be devastatingly difficult. I recommend you do not attempt such a feat on your own; you need a friend. I have the best.
I needed the best too because not only was I making a move, I was making the catastrophic move of ending my thirty-four year marriage. It was more of escaping rather than ending, but let's not nit-pick.
Before me lay a mountain of details, decisions and tasks that had to be performed in order for me to survive. First, there was a place to live; my friend offered a place in her home. Next, I had to actually declare my intentions and my friend was there to hold my hand, providing me the strength to accept the truth of my situation.
I admit I have trouble when a mountain looms in front of me. I struggle not to give up. There just appeared to be too many changes at one time to scale that big a hill. With my friend's help I have made the leap of faith that life is going to be better and left the city for the country.
I'm talking farm life; chickens in the backyard country. Driving to my new destination was a field trip in itself due to the beauty of the land.
I was treated to soft green hills rolling along the highway; cows grazing, slowly working their way to a small pond or stream. Fields, some plowed exposing rich black soil, others barring crops, butting up against a grove of trees where in hides a farm house, porch, clothes’ line and children running free. Every house that peaked out from its protective shade tree covering bore an American flag. I felt like I was driving into the 'American Spirit' for the first time in my life. I felt freedom, not only from the wind blown fabric of stars and stripes but free to live in peace.
I found that peace in the quiet of a country evening. It is such a joy to see the stars again! For so long the city lights have denied me the glorious view of a night sky; a simple treasure hidden and hoarded in the country.
Without the support and love from my friend, Cheryl, I would still be facing a mountain and suffering the fear of taking that first step.
Thank you my friend, forever.
It has been a hard winter, not so much due to snow and cold as to this depression. My mother passed away a year ago March 10th,
2012 and still I am bogged down with this sadness.
Spring is close now, so close I can smell its promise and just as it renews life in our gardens it seems to be lifting my spirits as
My friend, Cheryl has started her ghost hunting again. You can see her exciting ghost hunts at www.ceesghosthunting.blogspot.com. She has been instrumental in keeping me alive this winter. Friends have the power to do that - keep you going when all you want to do is stop feeling pain.
I am looking forward to getting into my garden! I’m trying not to do too much because spring can surprise you with a quick moving storm. I know from experience that a surprise storm can ruin your garden hopes. About four years ago an ice storm came through at the end of March and killed my Japanese Lilly bulbs. That was a beautiful flower and each year it came up it bore an addition to the original flower. I was so excited to see how many blooms would appear that year, but I was caught off-guard and uncovered.
This time of the year, I do some cleanup of leaves, and limbs but not too much. I call it piddling around the garden. I like to pull some of the leaves away to see if the Tulips are starting to come up, but then I cover them back so the weather won’t get them.
It’s just great to be outside in the sunlight and warm air, but it won’t be long, not now.
Here’s to spring, warmth, sunshine and flowers.
The world hasn’t been very good this year. There have been bombings, and terror, and death, and destruction all around us. Many fear the end is near and that Christmas might not make it this year, or the next, or ever again for that matter.
I’ve been frightened for a long time now, and pretty much gave up the fight. Why buy insurance, the world is going to end. Why vote, the world is going to end. Why save, the world is going to end and no one will be using money then.
I’ve spent days, weeks, and months watching the documentaries on the pending doom. I’ve heard what the Bible says, what the Mayans believed, what Leonardo da’Vinci spent his life studying The scientists point to the alignment of the galaxy as a possible downfall to our world creating polar opposites, sun flares that can burn us up, increases of warmth to the surface of the earth creating melting, blah, blah, blah.
I scared myself into hiding and preparing for the end so much that I stopped living for today.
This morning I watched one of those old sappy Christmas movies and found myself hoping, praying that we will all wake up on December 22nd and have a good laugh. The world will still be here just as we left it.
Santa, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want anything for Christmas this year, but I must warn you that I want more than I deserve.
I want the miracle of miracles; peace on earth, goodwill to mankind.
I want to feel joy again. It’s been a long time but I still remember the excitement and the depth of enjoyment involved with that emotion. I want to feel joy again. The world needs to feel joy.
So dear Santa, pack your sleigh with miracles of joy, peace, love and goodwill to all.
I’ll pray for your safe flight.
Your friend and admirer,
P.S. - A little snow would be nice.
Why pretend to be something or someone that you are not? Children pretend all the time. It is a form of play, an expression of their imagination. They have learned pieces of stories, let’s say after watching a movie little Johnnie pretends to be a pirate, or Zorro, or even a zombie. We think little to nothing of this child play, at times we encourage the expansion of such pretend play as a way to assist in our child’s growth. Pretending to be Zorro is a way for little Johnnie to learn about himself. During that session of play he experiences the thrill of being brave, imagining himself as he fights against injustice and evil and more importantly; visualizing himself as the hero.
What about adult play? Recently I made a trip to the Renaissance Fair in Kansas City, where I encountered a number of adults dressed as various characters from the past and it made me wonder about their performances and why they wanted to give up their weekends to be what they were not. I couldn’t help but also think about those dressing up to reenact the civil war, old west town shoot-outs require cowboys and sheriffs. Surely, these pretenders are not seeking a development of their imaginations? Are they unhappy with being who they are and seek to become someone else? Are they crazy? I mean, really, are they? Not only do they dress the part, but they focus on details of the character they portray.
At the Renaissance Fair the actors were careful to use the language of the period, and many managed a good accent to match; they go to a lot of trouble to perfect their pretend image. It matters to them and it matters to me. I enjoyed walking into history. The lay-out of the fair ran through a forest, and structures were built to create an effect of what it must have been like to live during that time period. Using my imagination I was able to really enjoy stepping into that time frame.
I don’t think it’s crazy to pretend, to expand our imaginations, and thus expand our appreciation of a particular time period.
I mentioned the loss of my mother in the blog entry, The Gravel Road of Grieving, and now I have a puzzle that is disturbing to me. Perhaps you can help me find an answer. This morning as I woke I had a strong image, something I’ve never seen before and yet so powerful that it lingered with me all day until I finally sat down at the computer and tried to recreate the image.
It’s close to what I saw, enough so that we can discuss it. I can’t figure out what it means, if it means anything at all.
Part of my grieving process has been delayed to a nagging doubt that I did not act properly after my mother’s death. Everyone reacts differently to a traumatic occurrence, but my reaction is one that brings me great shame and guilt.
I was sitting by her side, watching her when I realized that she was no longer breathing. I stared at her beautiful face for a long time before I announced to others in the room that she was gone, and then I calmly rose, went to the window and opened it, breathed deeply and went home.
I didn’t realize that I was in shock, denial, refusing to recognize the truth of the matter. I’ve heard of denial, but I honestly didn’t believe that the mind was that powerful; strong enough to wipe away reality. It was several months later when the truth started filtering into my mind and the sobbing, crying and total desperation of truth came through. My precious, wonderful mother was gone but what was worse was the knowledge that I did not react properly. I didn’t say a prayer. I didn’t insure that she made her way to heaven. She was so confused and lost in life suffering from Alzheimer’s, and I wasn’t sure that she found her way. I had horrible thoughts that she was wandering the halls of that hospice house looking for me. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t stop crying and I didn’t feel good about myself at all.
I toyed with the idea of finding a psychic who could tell me for sure that she found her way home. I tried to convince myself that anyone as faithful and religious as she would have had a personal escort, surely God sent her an angel to guide her way. But, then I’d remember how confused she was finding her way from the bedroom to her chair in the living room.
In between sobs, cursing myself for being such a derelict daughter, and praying that God would find her and take her on—if she was indeed lost and wandering the halls, I had this dream. This is all I remember of it. As I woke I saw a spiral of circles all in pink, and in the center of the circle was a glittering sparkle, like what is given off children’s sparklers on the 4th of July.
What does it mean?
Plenty of people might say, it means nothing, you were simply waking up and light was filtering through sleepy eyes. Ghost Hunters might say, it was your mother’s spirit reaching out with a message that she went into the spiral circle of light. Dream analysts might say, it’s your subconscious mind’s way of describing the stress you are under.
I have prayed strongly for a confirmation thats she's okay, at the same time rebuffing myself for not having faith that she was indeed taken care of; was this the sign that I prayed to find?
I’m writing a book about my mother and the aftermath of losing such an important part of me, with a strong emphasis on what to do when you lose a loved one; especially a parent suffering from confusion. (Remember to say your prayers before walking out of that room.) That led to my wondering about the new generations of children who will face the alarming rise in Alzheimer’s. When their parents start passing away will they know how to pray?
We (society as a whole) have taken God out of every step of our lives that we can possible enforce. I grew up saying the Lord’s Prayer and the Pledge of Allegiance in school—that is no longer allowed. I grew up a very altruistic person with little focus on possessions (we were very poor, and we didn’t have the pressure of owning a particular pair of shoes, or a necessary outfit in order to feel positive about ourselves). I never stood in the middle of a mall crying because I couldn’t have something I thought I needed.
I grew up with strong values of home, family and the importance of God, yet at the crucial moment I flaked out—so what is this generation of children going to do? Without that foundation of beliefs how will they manage?
Then I thought about the pending end of the world scenario relating to our destruction due to the collapse of morals in our society. We are an evil society and must be cleansed as in the time of Noah and the flood, when mankind was wiped off the face of the earth for a new beginning. That brought me back to the circles in my head. I seem to be going in circles. Maybe that’s all the dream meant; circles upon circles in a never-ending spiral of pink. And why pink? The dream book says to dream in color means total happiness, but I’m not happy at all, so does it mean that Mom is happy? She’s okay, she’s made her way home and the pink represents her happiness now.
I won’t know the answer to any of these questions until I cross over myself, and I don’t expect you to have the answer. I just wondered what you thought.
The heat has been so bad lately I feel I’m trapped in the air conditioning. Finally, we had a little rain and a cold front come through
dropping the temperature to only 98, making the mornings bearable. That’s when I grabbed my camera and took a drive.
I was visiting a friend’s office one day last month when I saw one of their co-workers art project; a collection of staples formed into a crude dog shape. It was enough to spur my interest in finding other art oddities.
And I found some good ones: trees with delicate carvings, this one sits in front of a lawyer’s office.
At the entrance to a cemetery
In my town someone came up with a great idea to the abandoned houses problem. We have a lot of houses that are out-of-state owned. They are usually purchased as rentals and used until they become unlivable. Until the city can make contact with those out-of-state owners and secure rights to tear them down they board up the doors and windows to keep out those who would use it for criminal activities. Instead of using plywood, they turn unsightly abandoned houses into works of art.
Whenever that heat drops get out of the house! You might surprise yourself at what you find in your own backyard field trip.
My husband took the rest of the July 4th week off for vacation. We decided to go to the zoo to see the much advertised Penguin
exhibit. I was so disappointed. It was 91 degrees at 10 in the morning, but the Penguin exhibit would be cold, right? It wasn’t. Penguins live on snow and ice, right? Not necessarily. Admittedly I was expecting something a lot different than what I found.
The exhibit was a small glass window peering into a black box of rock, a small pool of water against the glass to see them swim, and five bored Penguins who appeared to be as confused as I was. I felt so sorry for them. Children were gathered around the window watching, waiting, hoping to see something they have never seen before, but the Penguins did not get the memo saying entertain above all costs. They looked scared. The hesitation to jump into the water was evident in their approach and retreat from the edge of the rocks. They could see those faces peering at them and they just weren’t sure it was safe. Finally one brave soul ventured out far enough that he either took the plunge or slipped in, but there he was swimming around to the children’s ahs. Then it was over. The magic was complete and the crowd moved on.
My husband complained about the cost of admission just to watch a swim routine, so we decided to give a once around the park walk. I became more and more depressed with each animal exhibit.
They looked miserable lying in their spaces. The attempt to create a natural environment is a nice thought but is it enough? They still looked like convicted prisoners to me. Eagles sitting on perches instead of flying to the top of trees and soaring across vast open fields in search of their prey. A beautifully manned lion lay alone in a corner instead of stalking in high grass on an African plane.
I guess I’m confused as to why we still have zoos? It’s not like we can’t look them up on the internet and watch video’s in their real natural habitats or tune into National Geographic or Animal Planet to watch. The world is too open and available to necessitate the need for a zoo. What benefit is there to capturing animals and condemning them to a life of confinement? We can’t touch them; we rarely catch them doing anything other than sleeping or walking to a new spot to sleep.
I think it’s time for zoos to go the route of the drive-in theater and the scarecrow. We could use the money for research in protecting and helping the endangered species of the world.