It was 6 years ago today that my mother died. Being motherless is a feeling that is so difficult to even describe. There is an emptiness and hollowness inside that will never be fill by another living soul. Ever. She was my first love, my first kiss, my first breath, my first everything..... for 43 years. Then she was gone. Just....gone. She will always be gone.
Though I no longer wallow in the grief and loss on a regular basis, I miss her more every single day.
Forever.
Peace
In just a few days 2015 will be a speck in the review mirror of my life. Gone will be the long days and even longer nights alone because of deployment. A new year will begin with more days and nights to go, but they are fewer than the ones I will leave behind.
As I look forward to a new year, a new beginning to get it right, and a new start - a chance to begin again - I hope that I will take the clean slate and fill it with so much love, joy, friendship, adventure, and tradition. I want to finally learn to sew, design "my room", finish that book I started 29 years ago long before technology, on an old typewriter. I want to spend long nights and weekends with my family, fish the lake with my husband, I want to learn something new and perfect something old. I want to capture more of the cherishable moments with my eyes and heart instead of behing the camera of my phone.
I want to travel with my love and hold hands endlessly. I want to take up a craft and throw intimate parties. I want to live more than I have in recent years. To laugh more and cry less. To blog, to vlog...to whatever. I long to remember the past but let go of the pain...to tell that story. To be there, here, more....and less....depending.
Soon the chapter of this year will end and I will flip the page to write the next one. I want to. I need to. My story is just beginning to get good again.
Peace
The past week or two have been trying, professionally and personally. I have faced head on, with the true feelings of some I loved and some I respected. In both unrelated situations I have given beyond the ability I wasn't sure I possessed. In both situations I was taken back by the results.
I'm a giver, rarely a takers. Sometimes, just sometimes, I want to receive.
Peace
There once was a kidney that lived inside of my Sister's body. Along with it's mate, the little left kidney worked day and night, around the clock, to filter blood needed to produce urine. For 49 + plus years this amazing internal organ (s) has carried the responsibility of filling up the bladder so she could pee and filtering out toxins. Seems like such a simple thing, right?
For her....it was.
For others....not so much.
As an RN who has worked in dialysis for many years, she saw the impact that not having fully functioning kidneys can have on a person, a body, the family, and the spirit. She has watched in vain how the procedure lengthen the inevitable, knowing that the inevitable would eventually happen.
Rhonda has the fighting spirit of our father....so she took it to the streets. She stood up for someone who could no longer fight their own kidney battle alone any longer. She wanted to be the difference that she wanted to see. My sister went through long months and months of testing to be approved as a living kidney donor.
As part of a paired-donation, this past Friday I cried as they wheeled her to the operating room, where her left kidney was removed and transplanted into the body of someone she didn't even know. A selfless act of humanity that gave life back to the recipient who had been on dialysis for 5 years.
Like me, many people have a little red heart on their driver's license, or the actual words "donor" to signify their intent to donate their organs upon death. But did you know that kidneys donated by a living donor last 5-10 years longer than the organ from a deceased person (averaged about 10-15 years)? I may live to be an old, old woman....I know some of my organs are needed long before my last breath. Yours are too.
Will I become a living donor? As much as I would love to be strong and brave like Rhonda....in truth, I'm not. Living donation is not for everyone....but it is for someone.
My sister is my hero. She is home now and has a beautifully working right kidney. Her donor may go home today to start her new life with an equally beautiful left kidney, that has the Blocker fighting spirit coursing through its tissue.
Peace
I woke this morning next to my husband. The warmth of his body, the touch of his foot entwined with mine, and his eyes looking at my face as I slowly peeped them open to catch a glimpse of him. In my dreams we traveled together. First to Germany where we stayed at a romantically quaint Inn and made love amid the moonlight through the windows. In the blink of a second we were in Italy, touring the ancient cities and feasting on the best food Italy offered....made by hands of love and years of history. We drank wine, we laughed, we formed new family. Our journey took us through cobble stone streets and lines of laundry hanging to dry. Blink....back to Germany amid the sights and sounds. The food, the beer, the endless wandering. We laughed and talked ourselves to sleep. Holding each other like tomorrow would never come.
It did.
We woke and the dream was over.
Though it lasted 7 days it seemed like 30 seconds.
30 seconds in time that 6 months have forged. I tried to grasp each second and hold on to them for dear life, to carry us for 6 months more. I wanted to capture each moment in my blinks....never to be forgotten. I wanted to be able to close my eyes and replay the kisses, the touches, the love.
But the morning came too soon and the dream faded away.
Peace
I am tired.
Of deployment
Of loneliness
Of myself
Of talking
Of silence
Of crying
Of trying
Of failing
Of life
Of living
I am tired
Note: No. I dont want to talk about this post. Don't ask me.
This morning I did something I have wanting to do for a while....I pulled the plug on my Facebook account. For the longest time I have been over Facebook....bored with it and tired of the constant political, religious, homophobic whinning, and memes.
Today a personal situation occured that prompted me to remove a post. As I started to do that I found myself going to my account and hitting deactivate instead. Such a moment of pure liberation.
Like any habit..if I can make it the first 30 days, I think I will be homefree...errrr, facebook free. I will have to be diligent to maintain the real friendships the old school way. If anything, it will validate who my friends actually are.
Peace
This morning I woke up feeling like a complete failure. Maybe it was the fact it was another day of deployment or the self-hate I have for myself for breaking my goal not to drink, and having two beers last night at dinner with friends.
Either way I woke up feeling "off" and defeated. I spent the day in self-loathing and wanting to break something....any thing.
Now I am sitting in my car, at the airport. following a work function, and my car battery is flipping dead.
Really???
Damn
I went to the lake yesterday after work.... I had to meet a guy from the security system company early this morning to do the install. As I putted around the lake house last night I found that the Internet wasn't working as well as I needed it to , in order for me to be entertained. So I read a magazine from cover to cover, fought to watch a few youtube videos on my tablet, then read a book through my Kindle app. After a while I gave up and took a sleeping pill and headed to be at 9 pm. So lame.....I know. Bright and early I forced myself out of bed to the shower and around for the day. The security system install too about 3 1/2 hours...but it's done and I feel safer already. During the install I needed to download an app that took forever...and ever....and a day. WTH???
Afterwards I went out and about into town...found the furniture I wanted ( babe, I need some $$$, greenbacks, cashola, money, cha-ching........really, I do!). I considered my options for an easy evening....lake....primary home. I won't say that having Internet was a deciding factor, but I did end up going to the lake, gathering my things, locking up...and heading back to town. Then again, it really was the opportunity to have a yummy dinner and evening with my neighbors, followed but a promise to go to my daughter in laws house with breakfast, that swayed my decision.
I am so spoiled to Internet and a cheap bottle of wine!
Peace
I have a love/hate relationship with makeup. I simply LOVE makeup, the shimmer ~ the colors, the looks....but I absolutely HATE the moment of the evening that I spend taking it all off. I use Almay eye makeup remover pads to take off my war paint, followed by Neutrogena face wipes to clean off left overs. The oil from both get into my eyes and gives me a hazy view afterwards.
I love all makeup....especially a bright red lipstick that barely comes off with moderate scrubbing.
What's a girl to do?
Recently I saw a makeup remover towel that Sephora and Ulta sell for a hefty price. It doesn't have any cleansing compound whatsoever, but it removes makeup. I tend to be a bit heavy-handed in applying my makeup but I truly could not see myself spending the high dollar for a piece of cloth.
Until.....Walmart. For a few little dollars I picked up a 3-pack of makeup removing cloths. At least if it didn't work and it was all just hype, I haven't invested much. Sooooooo. ...last night I tried it out. I simply wet the dry cloth and began to take my eye makeup off (waterproof mascara included). No lying, folks......in 30 seconds I was staring at my clean face in the mirror and wondering what kind of voodoo magic just happened. I wiped and the makeup just disappeared. No pulling, tugging or aggressively wiping. Gone baby, gone!
So, you have been informed...you are welcome.
Peace
I realized today that I haven't turned on my car radio once since Rich has been gone. I tried today, but I just couldn't find the right groove or words that fit into my life right now, so I turned it off. If I'm not mistaken, I went through the whole year of the last deployment without music. It's not that I don't enjoy the music , it's just that it doesn't work for me right now. The silence....i don't even notice it.
Odd?
Maybe.
Peace
After months of being strong and courageous in the early midst of deployment, I found myself smack dab in the middle of my first (and hopefully, last), breakdown. While I don't recall a great deal about that afternoon and evening, I do know that drinking a full bottle of white wine, through a straw, on a flat empty stomach, already fresh from hours upon hours of crying in my closet as I tried desparately to figure out how best to pack my shoes in a large bag, coupled with swimming in the neighbor's pool in the Alabama heat, was not a good idea my friends.
I understand from those who cared for me, helped me dress, left water, crackers and asprin on my night stand, and left me to sleep in a fetal position in my closet, clothed in my underwear and my husband's flannel shirt, that there was considerable crying involved in my mental checkout. They also assured me that "shit happens" and sometimes we can only go so far until we break.
I am better now. I feel stronger now without the weight on the sorrow and tears I had been hoarding for so long. Without the distraction of loss as an obstacle, I can now kick the ass of this deployment in a major way.
Peace
There are times when I feel Damned if I don't and Damned if I do. This, my friends...is one of those times.
Peace
Noooooo...not that closet.
I have always had a love/hate relationship with my closet. It's nice...roomy...I have never had such a big walk-in closet in my life. And folks, this one ain't that big. I grew up without a closet until my dad built a little makeshift deal when I was in junior high school for my sister and I to share. This closet, well, I can walk in, twirl around without hitting too much as long as I don't stretch my arms out, and it was even roomy once for a quickie with my husband the day he came home from deployment and the house was full of people. Hey, it happens...don't judge.
So...back to my closet. It is the place I go and sit when I feel overwhelmed, cry, when I want to be alone and when I want to pray. Then again, it has also been a place that has just pissed me off and hurt my feelings when I walk in and can't find anything to wear, nothing fits and its full of frumpy things that make me feel bad about myself. It's the place that reminds me that I've gained weight or have no style. I would spend soooo much time just standing staring through hot tears and lots of curses, at the same clothes and not a thing to wear.
Until......
Pinterest.
I took the challenge of purging my closet of anything that didn't fit, I didnt like, wouldn't wear and didn't match at least three other pieces of clothing. I decided on the number of clothing I would keep and purged the rest...like 6 dresses, 5 skirts....etc.
I downloaded a cool wardrobe app to my tablet and took pictures of everything I kept...including shoes and accessories. From there I started building outfits....it's amazing that I had so much that 'went together' that I never knew I had. I researched key clothing staples and purchased a few things to complete my own wardrobe closet....and BOOM!!
It is a hit, yall! When I'm not sure what I want to wear, I consult my app closet....or just pick something out of my real closet because I know that it all coordinates. The best part is that I feel amazing now when I walk in my closet and see that more than one half of my closet space is empty. I feel good when I get dressed and I no longer feel the anxiety I used to feel.
What a complete sense of freedom!
Peace
Dear Mr. Murphy,
As you and I have been well acquainted now for quite some time, most of my life, I feel that it is time to have serious dialogue about our unrequited relationship. I realize that you have your own fame and misfortune, and I am just a small population of those you visit often, but simply...enough is enough. We must stop meeting under the most rediculous circurcumstance.
Just recently, for example, as I had just begun my slow wallow into the deployment pool blues, you popped up to remind me that 'if anything can go wrong, it will'. Seriously, I am my Mother' child....I clearly knew that without a trip to the emergency room to remind me. Picture it...for a moment.... teary but being brave, I'm going out to hang an American flag by the mailbox (cause I'm patriotic like that). One step too many and I find myself on the ground looking up at the evening sky, with an angry swelling ankle. Alone. In the dark. Oh, that was a good one Mr. Murphy!
Cough, cough, hack, cough. Flight out in the afternoon. Doctor, doctor....give me some news....Bronchitis. What? Flight was cancelled do to an airline glitch. All within a couple of hours. Got me again Mr. Murphy!
While I do appreciate a good dose of humility and ironisism...with a tad bit of karma thrown in for good measure, I must insist that you do not come back and visit. We are over, Mr. Murphy. Good bye.
Peace
In 4 days we will arrive at the station. My husband will jump on and ride the deployment train to the other end of the World, where he will disembark for a year. As much as I have put on the face of the dutiful, strong, proud, and self-sustaining military spouse, the tears are finding their way through. My heart aches and my mind is having difficulty processing that I will wake up this weekend without my best friend laying next to me. The safety and security we have shared for the last 4 years has been so deceiving...as we knew....at some point....it would end.... and we would face this dragon yet again.
I admit that I am scared. My heart feels broken. My spirit is grieving. The voices in my soul is screaming....please, don't go. Don't leave me.
Peace.
This is my fifth Mother's Day without my Mother. My heart still hurts.... it still cries for her. She was my very first love....My first kiss... you first hug. I miss her so much....Webster hasn't even invented the words to describe the heartache that exists without her. She was my everything. She taught me unconditional love...to love without boundaries. I use this lesson to love my children every single day. They are everything I am....the same as I was to my Mother.
I love her endlessly.....until my last earthy breath.
Peace
In 50 minutes (CST) I will turn 49!
4-9
No longer 48 but not yet 50.
Where in hell did the years go?
I don't feel 49....I don't think I look 49.
Yet, my memories tell remind me of the lifetime I have lived in these 49 years. A lifetime of happy times,sad times, times I have long forgotten and some that I will remember forever and a day. I have loved much and been loved the same. I have seen family and friends come for moment and go in the same way....yet, I have learned the intended lesson from each experience.
I have made poor choices that I do not regret.
I have raised amazing children, have taken the name and shared life with my God-given partner and true love. I have been, and continue to be, blessed beyond all measure. I am grateful.
I was brought into life with a soul that is identical. My twin. My sister. I am grateful for the journey we have been on together.
In 45 minutes we will be 49.
Peace.
As I look around the "big house" I see only the potential to downsize. ....everything! The lake home is somewhat smaller, more intimate, and has little space for clutter - I think that's why it appeals to me so much. When preparing mentally and physically to downsize from from roughly 2500 square feet to 1/2 the size, my mind gets all boggled. What's a girl to do?
Like any blogger. ..I go trolling. By way of a blogger I follow, I came across this blogger: http://dallas.citymomsblog.com/why-i-got-rid-of-my-wardrobe-capsule-wardrobe/
She has an amazing concept of downsizing clothes that I am anxious to do. Not only will it help me to breakup with clothes that make me sad and hurt my feelings, it will lead me gently down the path of simplification. The concept is to choose 37 articles of clothing to use for coordinating outfits. This does not include accessories, but I have already been thinking about downsizing those to a few key pieces.
Exciting? Yes, actually.
I came across another blogger who had an awesome post about preparing for a move. While I am no virgin (heehee ) when it comes to moving, I realize that I need to be selective and mindful as I prepare to transition from the big house to the lake home while my husband is deployed Lots to do!!
It's all scary but so super exciting! At the lake home tonight, as I was hanging curtains and pictures, I knew that I was slowly moving home.
Peace
Way back when, well in early March, I lovingly packed a box with American essentials: coconut oil, pancake syrup, peanut butter, pictures, toys, and girl scout cookie (yum yum), and sent it all across the pond to my niece in Italy. No only did it get lost in translation somewhere along the way, but it hasn't appeared back on doorstep either. I swear that somewhere out there is an Italian postal worker sitting on his couch, wearing only his underwear, lathered up with coconut oil (ewww), dipping thin mints in peanut butter!!!!
Peace
Recently I was given the amazing opportunity to edit a novel for a friend. I never thought of myself as someone who had the skills to write, let alone edit, a work of literature, but I was surprised at how much I absolutely loved it. I enjoyed reading this wonderful novel and working on any edits that I felt would help it become a smashing success. Most surprising is that the author liked my work and accepted most of my edits. The book should be moving to publish very soon, if not already.
It feels surreal to have had any part in a novel and I am looking forward to Blood Moon hitting the literary scene in the near future!
Peace
I am teary today.
Every emotion I have is fully engaged.
I keep moving....keep going. One foot in front of the other. Lest I stop, and drown in the pool of my tears and step on the shards of my broken heart.
Peace
This morning marked the beginning of his last pre-deployment training. A kiss...or four...a couple of long hugs later and off he went. The walls fell in for a few minutes and I let the tears come, and go. The closer we get, the harder it is to mask the grief inside of my heart...my soul.
Damn this stupid war. Damn this deployment. Damn the empty days and nights to come.
Damn it all!
Peace
There a girl. ..young woman... that I love very much. For years actually...like a daughter, as my daughter. I watched her grow up and have witnessed the many twists and turns of her journey. Though sometimes it appeared that her path would not straighten for long, I felt confident that she could overcome her self destructive circumstances and finally have a real life. Through the years I have helped, enabled, prayed and distanced myself many times to allow her to stand on her own. Recently she reached out and I stood in the gap once more. Until....
Today I found that most of her circumstance were fictitious and the other half self-induced.
My phone rang for help once again. I searched my heart and my life for the right answer. My anxiety level grew, my stomach knotted and my lunch sat unsteady on my tummy. I thought of my home, my children, my grandchildren. I looked at my daily life that is peaceful and loving- drama free and relatively stress free.
I said No.
It broke my heart...but I said No.
Peace.
This morning my husband and I shared our standard three consecutive kisses in the parking lot of the armory. These kisses represented our first last goodbye as pre-deployment training began. The period of time leading up to "popping smoke" or boots on the ground....is some of the most excrutiating of deployment. He leaves for weeks, comes home, leaves for weeks, comes home...until. With each hello a goodbye is coming. We grab hold of every single time together but we both are ready to kick this thing off. Recovery from the "leaving" is so much easier than the build up.
Pre-deployment is a time that brings random and silent tears as I look ahead at the days, weeks, months that lie ahead; how will I do THIS again with 2 homes, two dogs, a cat, a job and the bill management... and still remain strong for the rest of my family (some who are also going through deployment for the first time within their own little family unit).
Four years ago deployment came within a week of losing my parents and I was a broken, broken woman. I didn't fully experience the deployment in the way other military spouses do. I was just a tragic shell of nothingness; while I missed my husband I can't honestly say that I acknowledge he was even gone. Had he been home, I wouldn't have even noticed....I was that far gone. NOW is a different time with nothing to buffer the grief that comes with deployment separation. With each tear I feel the loss that is coming, deployment brain is setting in and my brain is all scrambled with overwhelming anxiety.
I know I am not alone, I have friends, family and a network of people who love me and will be here each step of the way. The loneliness that comes at night is he time when no one can help. When I reach out my foot to touch his foot I won't find him there under the covers. The bed that causes my internal temperature to rise to 500 degrees at night when I lay next to my husband for 5 minutes max, will not get above 65 degrees when I am alone. I will wear pajama pants and socks under my gown to try and break the endless chill. My morning routine will become mundane...the silence will be deafening.
We will get through this...just one more time. One more last kiss.
One more last goodbye.
Peace
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| From the dock looking towards the house |
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| Looking at the lake from the back
Buying the lake house was a major decision for us because we are always try to be "careful" and make sound, safe decision. For once we threw our caution to the wind and just went with our hearts to grab something for ourselves!
Our major home is a 5 bedroom, 3 bath, 2 living rooms, 2 kitchens, 1 dining room, almost an acre of property, and full to the rim with stuff! The lake house has 3 bedrooms, 1 living room, kitchen combo, 1 bathroom and came furniture with so much simplicity! Rich and I spent our first weekend at the lake house recently and I have to admit.... we didn't want to leave. We could stand on the deck in the morning and watch the gees on the lake, hearing nothing but the occasional train in the distance. Going back to our main home was like going from Mayberry to New York City - full of hustle and bustle and walls and doors and stuff.
The questions comes up if we think we will sell our house and move to the lake house full time? The answer is - yes, I hope so. While Rich is deployed I will spend much time at the lake getting the feel of life there ~ when Rich gets home next year we will know what the right decision is. Honestly, we already know....we just want to dial back and fish. We don't want to wait until we retire and wonder what happened to our livelihood; that we didn't get a chance to live before it is too late. What about our jobs? Hopefully, I will be in my same job and take the commute into town. and Rich will find something he can enjoy and feel good about doing. What about a place for the family to gather? There is more than enough space for our children and grandchildren to come to. What about your main house? Downsize x 1 trillion!!
We get the feeling that not everyone is supportive of our decision, and that's okay. We have worked long and hard to care for and take care of every one's needs. We have built our lives around our family, children and grandchildren. We have given time, space, money and ourselves in order to provide - this time...this time in our lives ... it's finally our turn to give to ourselves. To start to walk a new path of simplicity and establish our financial security...while making some amazing new memories with our family.
Rich and I ARE excited about this new chapter. Please be excited for us!
Peace!
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Dear You,
I take it all back. I take back all of the words, non-verbal queues, indifference and allowances that I have given to you that gave you the power to be cuss me, yell at me (with words or actions), disrespect me, hurt me, and make me feel small and bad about myself. Whether it started from birth or our first meeting, I have unintentionally let you know that it's okay to bully me and cause me to feel less than what God made me to be.
I am a good person. I am kind, I am giving, I am generous, I am compassionate, I am loyal, I allow others to be who they are and try very hard not judge. When I give, it's never enough...when I can't... its never forgotten. You don't remember what I do, you only persecute me for the things I can't or don't do. When you are upset with others you take it out on me.
Right now, I take back the power I have allowed you to have over me. It is no longer okay for you to be unkind to me. You no longer have my permission to be disrespectful to me, to judge me, to take your fears and frustrations or anger out on me. You cannot hurt me any more with your coldness or your glares. I don't deserve it and I'm not putting up with it for one more day.
I choose to be happy. I choose to be grateful for you in my life. I choose to love you without any conditions whatsoever. I choose to respect you and do any thing I can to add to your life in a positive way . I choose today to let my wounded ego and hurt feeling go, and stand up against your unsolicited hatefulness.
You are a wonderful person, you have a been given a life that has been blessed in so many ways. So much so, that some people will never, ever have the life that God blessed you with. Yet, you are miserable in it and choose to persecute others in the effort to relieve your frustration. I will not be the point of your relief any more. As much as I love you with my heart and soul. ...I won't allow you to blame me for your misery.
Peace.
"People are often unreasonable and self-centered. Forgive them anyway..jpg)
together, I can't bring myself to change a thing.
