Here Comes the Sun

Picked for me by my precious niece Sami

I've learned that no matter what happens or how hard it seems today,

life goes on

and it will be better tomorrow.

---Maya Angelou

Happy Monday Everyone!!!

Heartbroken

Photo taken October 1974

My grandfather and I

I was 3 years old

My grandfather passed away October 21st 2009 due to complications from Alzheimer's Disease. The last four years have been a long and terrible journey and I am happy for him that it is over. He died peacefully surrounded by his beautiful children, staring into the face of my grandmother who has stood by his side for 65 years.

I wanted him to be released from his suffering so badly but I just can't believe that he is gone from my life and I am heartbroken. I didn't know it was going to hurt this much. I'm not quite sure how to get through it. But I am blessed to have my superman by my side and a HUGE support system in my family, co workers and friends. They have been so wonderful.
I am also thankful for the bonding my mom and I have done over the past few weeks. I feel closer to her now than I have in my life.

I really don't know what to say, my grief is too new and the pain is too much to come up with anything meaningful right now. I just know that I miss him and I love him. He was a wonderful father to me and to IZ. I was priviledged to have the relationship with him that I did. No granddaughter could have asked for better.

I love you, Grandpa. I miss you. I love you....I love you.

Perception

I grew up in a trailer park. There were two entrances to the park and one round oval of a road that went through it. Because each trailer space only had one narrow driveway at the back, most everyone had to park on the road in front of their trailer. So the oval was VERY narrow. It was difficult for two cars to pass each other going in the opposite direction.

I didn't know that we lived in the trailer park because we were poor. I didn't know that people looked down on me or considered me trash. I was never ashamed of where I lived. My friends who lived in regular homes never treated me any different but now that I look back I realize that their parents very obviously did.

Because we lived in a trailer park I was treated to neighbors from ALL walks of life. There was the old couple who lived in the REALLY NICE double wide right at the entrance. They had the nicest yard with actual TREES! My brother and I called them Grandpa and Grandma but in my mind they were the king and queen of the park. Their job was to watch over the children and make sure the parents did their job.

Then there was Mrs. Davidson. She lived in a dark corner lot. She was plump and dark haired and always laughing. Every once in awhile I would be invited into her home to take a piece of candy from the carnival glass candy dish on top of her console TV. Mrs. Davidson kept her blinds closed all the time so it was always dark. But she surrounded herself with fiber optic bric a brac. I don't even know if anyone will remember but an example would be two glass swans sitting on a mirror that represented a pond and out of the center of the pond would shoot a spray of small plastic fibers, like really long toothbrush bristles. They spilled over into the shape of a fountain and light would travel down the fibers and light up at the bottom. So the end of each fiber would have these little tiny balls of light at the end. Like fairy lights. If you touched them they would sway and bounce and the lights would dance. Then all around the fairy lights she would tuck little ceramic elves and flowers and boys and girls and the effect on my seven year old eyes was truly magical.

I would pretend her first name was Althea (at that age, I thought that a very magical name) and her job was to protect the fairies and elves of the kingdom (trailer park). I would imagine that she kept them safe in her darkened living room during the day and at night she would open all her windows and doors and all those dancing lights would zip away and sing and play until morning.

At the opposite entrance to the park was another old woman. I don't know if she was married. I never saw a man coming or going but I seem to have a hazy memory of someone telling me she cared for someone who lived there. This woman had bright red hair, long down her back with one white streak that trailed all the way down her right side. She kept it in a loose braid most of the time but sometimes she let it go. When it was like that she looked fierce and wild! I LOVED it that way. I thought she might be a witch! Good or bad I didn't know. You could tell that she was beautiful once but the thing that really fascinated me about her was her BLACK eyes. All black. Like they were one big pupil.

Whenever I got the rare treat of seeing her in her front yard I would stop my bike and almost WILL her to look at me. Sometimes she would acknowledge me but it was only with a wave of her hand, never a smile. She would turn those black eyes in my direction and I would be frozen in place by her stare. Chills would run up and down my spine and my tummy would get all tickly and then she would lift her hand in my direction and I would return her wave.

What I would have given to have a conversation with her! I just knew she had LIVED amazing adventures and knew all sorts of dark and wonderful secrets. But I never got the nerve. I still dream about her. I dream of knocking on her door and when it opens, she's standing there with her hair all wild and instead of a wave she beckons me to come inside. I still get a little thrill thinking about her thirty years later.

It's funny how I tended to gravitate toward the older people in the park as their were plenty of people the same age as my parents around raising kids, getting in fights, getting arrested. As you can imagine in a trailer park there was a lot of poverty, a lot of kids with dirty skinned knees, uncombed hair and runny noses. There was a lot of loud parties, a few police raids, though not as much as there probably are now. But none of that seemed to touch me. I wasn't AWARE that not everyone got to live in a park. It was the only life I knew and it didn't seem at all bizarre to me. It seems bizarre to me now.

Most of my childhood memories are contained in the space of that tiny little park. Racing around and around that oval at what I thought were breakneck speeds on my banana seat bike, running through our tiny sprinkler that you could place in the center of our yard and the spray would almost be able to cover the entire patch of grass without having to be moved. Setting up our sleeping bags and feeling very brave and grown up sleeping under the stars, not realizing that my parents weren't worried about us because we were surrounded on all sides by either chain link or trailer houses. Our own unique playpen.

I remember playing hide and seek with a group made up of all the kids in our park, every size, every shape, every age and we could use the ENTIRE park to hide in. We would run like wild Indians, whooping and hollering, cutting through people's yards, hiding in vegetable patches and not be expected home until it got too dark to see.

Every kid's swing set was open to every kid in the neighborhood. Every mother could be run to for band aids, wiping away of tears and a swat on the butt if it was required. It was a child's idea of heaven. A place where I knew I was safe, where I knew that every person knew my name. That if my mom was at work and something happened to me or my brother, there was always somewhere to go.

I look at my kids now and how we have raised them and it makes me a little bit sad. My kids don't hop on their bikes and ride to their friends house. Because of how the world has changed it is too dangerous to let them go anywhere alone. I always drive them where they need to go. Our little tomato slept in a tent in our backyard for the first time this summer. I would never have allowed it at our old house because our yard wasn't fully fenced. And I made her older sister sleep out there with LT and her cousins just in case.

When I think about it, we live in a quiet, sleepy little town full of good people but I think because of the media and the Internet we have become more AWARE of what is out there. The fears of the world have crept into our consciousness and made us hyper vigilant and over protective.

I wish things could be the way they were then. I hope that my children will be able to tell stories about magical fairy lights and wild women with dark eyes and dark secrets but I'm afraid that maybe a lot of the magic has been taken out of childhood.

Maybe part of my responsibility to my children is to teach them magic. To point out the shady part of the forest and ask them if they see the elves peeking out from under the ferns. To ask the horses over the fence how their day was, within earshot of my children, and then laugh heartily at whatever I pretend the horses answers to be. I will stop them from stepping on the box elder bugs because one of them could be the most beloved child of the fairy king. "If you spare his life today, maybe someday the king will return the favor when you need it most."

They will roll their eyes at me and think I've gone a bit daffy but every once in awhile I will be rewarded with a giggle and a smile. That's what magic is good for. That's what I need to impress upon my children instead of the creeping fear that I'm not watching them close enough. Our children are a reflection of ourselves. Do I want their perception of the world to be frightening and paranoid or do I want them to see beauty and magic?

So I am going home now to my children. The sun is starting to set. It's twilight. I think it might be the perfect time to leash the dogs and take the dirt road at the end of our street and just see where it might lead.

Prayers Needed

Asking for your thoughts and prayers for friends and family in Samoa. So far there have been two deaths associated with family that we know of and we are hoping there will be no more bad news. My heart and deepest sympathy goes out to Rick, Lavon and Alana.

We have yet to hear anything concrete as the news has been very slow to report for obvious reasons. The latest I heard was 111 dead with the toll expected to rise. There were 4 tsunami waves that hit one after the other that were 15 to 20 feet high and reached over a mile inland. Whole villages and cars were swept out to sea. This was caused by an 8.3 magnitude earthquake in the ocean south of the Samoan islands that witnesses claim shook the islands for up to 5 minutes.

All the land lines are down. There have been a few people who have been able to get out with cellular phones and Internet but for the most part it has been impossible to reach family and loved ones. We are not even sure exactly what areas were hit. We know Pago Pago was hit hard as well as Apia but that is all the news is reporting.

Please pray they are able to get aid organized quickly and rescue efforts are well underway. Please pray that the death toll stays relatively small although 111 is already too high. Please send out a special prayer that Superman's family and loved ones were able to reach safety and that the damage in their area was minimal.

UPDATE***

If you live in Utah, you can go into any Zions Bank and tell them you wish to donate to the Samoan Relief Fund and 100% of the proceeds will go to help the families in Samoa.
If you do not live in Utah, go to www.fox13now.com and they will have the donation information. Any donation, no matter how small would be appreciated.

Balancing Act

Superman is 47 years old today! This past year has been a real test for us. Between the kids and the economy and moving AGAIN, things have been crazy! I've been up and down and all around and I don't know how he's held on for the ride.

I have never been in a true partnership with someone I love and it's been an eye opening experience for me. In the past, whether it was my parents, or my friends or myself, there is always one thing that seems to tip the scales towards unhappiness, divorce, affairs, whatever. Most of the time it's money, sometimes it's other things but Superman and I seem to be able to BALANCE. Just when I feel like I'm sliding toward the abyss he takes on a little bit more of me and puts things right again. He truly is my hero.

The truth is, I used to dream there was someone out there who could just LOVE me. Someone who could make light of my moods and set me straight without making me feel crazy or stupid. Someone who can make me smile through my tears. Someone who makes me feel beautiful even when I have morning breath and my mascara is smeared. I used to WISH with my whole heart that whatever guy I was with could live up to this ideal I had conjured in my head and they never could.

So I gave up. I was over thirty, my daughter was about to become a teenager and showing her independence and I decided that if that perfect man wasn't out there then I would just be alone. I would never settle. And then there he was.

And no, he's not perfect. But he's perfect for me. He BALANCES me. He lifts me when I'm dipping too low and brings me back to earth when I'm flying out of control. He really listens to what I'm saying and he tries to understand me. Just the fact that he TRIES is enough for me.

I don't know why he fell in love with me. I truly don't. I can be demanding and moody. My thoughts are always rushing ahead and usually my mouth is going right along with it but he slows me down. He calms my soul and helps me to see that there is more to life than just the World According to Me. I can't believe he's still by my side after all this time and he shows no signs that I'm wearing him down.

Baby, for your birthday I wanted to take you to Paris and show you paintings by Gauguin. I wanted to fly you to Rome and show you sculpture by Michelangelo. I wanted to hike to the top of Peruvian mountains and show you lost worlds and I wanted to watch the sun set from the beaches of Tahiti while we hold hands and sip our Pama on the rocks. I would if I could, my love. I hope that someday I can. Because the world is what you have given to me. You have opened my eyes to joy and life and love. What could I possibly give you in return?

All I have is me, my love. And you have me, all of me, heart and soul. Happy Birthday.

OOPS!

I was going for strawberry blonde...

I'm thinking that maybe the blonde part didn't work cuz it sat in my bathroom cupboard for...oh, I'd say maybe...two years?

So...this is what I got. The picture doesn't do it justice. It's kinda neon. My kids and their friends think it's pretty cool. Superman loves it. I think it's that whole "other woman" fantasy that men have. Or... maybe it's the "prostitute" fantasy. Whatever, he's diggin' it.

But I'm just not sure. It's been a week and I keep thinking I'll recolor but I'm afraid I'm going to get something worse. Or I'll go bald. (sigh)

So here it is... let me know what you think. Do I deal with it or do I attempt to fix it?

In other news...

Some of you were wondering whatever happened to my baby girl's daddy trying to contact her on her myspace account. You remember, the post where I was completely FREAKING OUT! Well, I took your advice. IZ and I had a good talk about things and she also read my post and your comments, which helped out a ton and she sent her sperm donor (harsh) back a message and we waited. And waited. And waited.

Every once in awhile I would ask IZ if she heard anything and then one day she checked and his myspace account had been removed. Just like that. When I asked her how she felt about it her answer was that she didn't really care. But I think she did care. And I think it hurt her.

Me? I was relieved. But a part of me was angry. You just don't DO THAT! You don't suddenly poke your head out and say "Here I am! Look at me!" And then just as suddenly disappear. Not when it's the feelings of a young teenager at stake. I guess I didn't expect anything different. And neither did she but I think she was HOPING.

I don't know what he was thinking but what I want to believe is maybe he got scared. Maybe, just maybe, the part of him that is capable of being honorable knew that deep down he would screw it up and he didn't want to do that to her. Maybe. Or maybe he was just being a total &*%#head. Unfortunately, that's probably closer to the truth.

What I KNOW is that IZ is LOVED. DEEPLY LOVED. Not just by me but by Superman and her grandparents and her many aunts, uncles, cousins and friends. I need her to know that she is surrounded 24/7 by LOVE. And that she is beautiful and magical and talented and kind. She doesn't need her father around to know WHO SHE IS! It's reflected back at her by the people she has in her life.

As for the rest of my girls, things are great. School started a couple weeks ago and so far, so good. LT is in middle school, which means her first locker and switching classes and feeling oh-so-grownup. She is loving it. Stella got her driver's license over the summer and I am so loving being able to send her to the store or to pick up IZ and LT when they need a ride. And she started playing tennis for her school and has been on way too many road trips to count. She's having a ball.

Superman has been working out of town quite a bit lately. I really hate having him gone but he IS Working, which is more than I can say for a lot of people out here. We count our blessings no matter how they are packaged.

It is getting colder on Planet Vernal. We get thunderstorms almost everyday. Last night was a real light show and me and the girls turned out all the lights, snuggled on the couch with the dogs and just watched the storm. It was AWESOME! One of those moments that I wish I could record so I could take it out every once in a while and replay.

I really can't ask for more right now. My cup is overflowing. Well, maybe one thing. Can we rewind to last Saturday when I dyed my hair? Then things would be just about perfect.

Summer Daze

Summer is almost over on Planet Vernal. It gets dark right around 7:30 and the temps at night are in the 40's and 50's. If you ask me, summer went by way too fast. These pics were taken about 10 minutes from my house at a place called Red Fleet.

Aqua girl here is actually my 10-year-old niece, Shane. We brought her and her twin sister, Reed, home with us after a trip to Las Vegas. They stayed with us for two weeks and even though one of them suffered some pretty serious bouts of homesickness the first couple of nights, I think they had a really good time.

Since it was fairly late in the day when we finished our swim, we decided it would be easiest to just BBQ some burgers at home. Reed overheard this and said to me "Are we going to cook burgers on the grill and listen to music and eat outside and sit in lawn chairs and talk about the good old days?!" When I told her that was EXACTLY what we were gonna do she said "Oh my gosh! I've wanted to do that my WHOLE LIFE!"

So just to up the ante, Superman and I pulled out the tent, let the girls outfit it with air mattresses, blankets, flashlights, stuffed animals and board games and they spent the majority of their nights giggling in the backyard under the stars. It made me want to be a kid again. (sigh).

The girls LOVED the dogs and were completely fascinated by IZ's pet rats. Yes, I said rats. Two of them. One of whom is HUGE! We're talking large kitten huge. And the other one had an ear problem and always has her head sideways. She's our sideways rat. She's much smaller and actually kinda cute...kinda. The last night the girls were here, Reed brought the small rat into the backyard and our Great Dane, Cleo came over for a sniff. Reed, not knowing any better held the rat out to Cleo thinking, I don't know, that Cleo might lick it or something. But no...faster than any of us could react Cleo had the rat in her jaws. You could have heard my shriek for miles, which caused Cleo to just as quickly release her hold on the poor little thing. I was seriously expecting a headless rat but THANK GOODNESS!!! the rat was in one piece and just fine. I almost had a heart attack.

We did lots of fun things this summer, in between Superman's grueling work schedule. Lots of BBQ's. Lots of time hanging out with our friends. A couple of road trips. One to Las Vegas where we didn't win ANY money. Oh wait, that was just like the last trip to Vegas. We DONATED! To the cause....of....hmmmm....

Anywho, I'll just share some more pics of Red Fleet since it pretty much sums up the summer for us and the kids. Enjoy!

LT, Reed and Shane on the rocks at the lake shore.

The whole family, except photographer me, Stella, Superman, LT, Shane, Bre (IZ's BFF), Reed and IZ.

Stella's graceful dive.

Beautiful Stella.

Reed's Cannonball!

Bre and IZ

Reed, Shane & LT

My Superman

Shane, Reed, LT

Superman's SPLASH!!

Hope everyone had a WONDERFUL SUMMER!

It All Started with Ricky Turpin

This is Superman's third oldest daughter, who I am going to call Stella from here on out. She will hate that but I love it so she'll have to get over it! She is the oldest of our children living at home. The two girls on each side are her very best friends. As I was taking these pictures I couldn't help thinking about my own BFF's from back in the day. I have known and loved some of those girls since I was in kindergarten, 30 plus years ago. And I love them just as much today as I did back then.

I still remember Julie walking into my classroom. Ricky Turpin had punched me in the stomach over swing rights on the playground so I was the only one in from recess and in walks this girl in pink overalls, sucking on her fingers, crying. The teacher had her sit next to me on the rug while she and Julie's mom chatted. I, being shy myself, somehow got up the courage to say hello.

Julie was married at 15, a mom at 16 and divorced before she turned 18 years old. She has suffered at the hands of abusive husbands, given up twin babies for adoption and all told, given birth to SIX children. She is now a grandmother of a gorgeous bouncing baby boy and still has a 6 year old girl tugging on her apron strings at home. Who would have thought that her life would take such twisted turns and bounce over such rugged roads but through it all she has never allowed our friendship to fade away. No matter where we are living, our situations in life, good or bad, she has always managed to find me. She is brave, she is strong, she has been to hell and come out the other side and she is my friend. And I love her more than she will ever know.

Then there is Robin. Robin Hood, to be exact. Her father had a sense of humor and Robin had to learn to cope. I personally LOVED that her name was Robin Hood but then I'm not the one who had to carry it. The way she coped was by being the most sarcastic, the most FUNNY person I have ever met in my life. NOBODY else in this world has ever been able to take the absurdities that life has thrown our way and turned them into something bearable with as much ease and quick wit as she did. I learned to appreciate the fine art of dry humor and sarcasm from Robin and I will NEVER be as good at it as she is. Robin was a hard rockin', big haired, smart-ass exterior that covered a shy and sensitive heart. She graduated from high school a year early and we lost touch for almost twenty years. But when we finally spoke on the phone again this summer, it was like that twenty years never happened. She is my sister of the heart, my kindred spirit. I will NOT lose you again, Robin, EVER! You're stuck with me till the end of time.

Then Shari. The most shy girl I had ever met. Sweet, lovely but had no idea how wonderful she really was. Shari introduced me to Elvis Presley and Fabian. We had sleepovers ALL THE TIME stayed up late to watch Headbanger's Ball. She got me interested in horror movies and greek mythology. Her daddy played guitar and sang us old fifties tunes and I'm sure she thought it was "SO EMBARASSING!" but I thought it was totally cool.
Because of her own father's addictions, Shari too struggled with her own. But she is clean now, living with a great guy and sounds happier than I've ever heard her. She told me that I was her friend when no one else would be but I wouldn't know anything about that. I truly loved Shari then and I still do now. Anybody who thought themselves too good to be her friend really robbed themselves of something special. She is just as wonderful today as she was then and I hope she knows how much her friendship means to me.

Kim, shy, sweet, came from a broken home, just like me. We camped together, went boating together, built a club in a dirty old cellar in her mom's backyard. She was the girl who understood where I was coming from when I had to tell people that I had two mom's and two dad's and half sisters and that even though we didn't CRY over it, there was still this unspoken stigma attached and she GOT THAT!

Kim married her high school sweetheart and against all odds, they are still married, have a BEAUTIFUL house full of kids and one son serving a church mission. She rocks! She really does. Way to go, Kim.

Monique, pretty, stylish, had HUGE HAIR!...HUGE! What was UP with that?! Always dressed immaculate, always had every hair Aqua Net-ed into place. She taught me how to do my make-up, take pride in my appearance. Was constantly dressing me up, like her own personal makeover barbie doll. Monique decided she wanted to be my friend and basically adopted me. Her family became my family and I was treated by her and her parents like one of their own. Monique wrapped her arms around me when I felt all alone in the world. She heard my confessions and refused to judge. We dried each others tears and lifted each other up when it seemed like the people around us only wanted to push us down. And I still can't eat a smothered burrito with cheese and not think about her.

Monique met her husband fifteen years ago after I introduced them. He was the complete opposite of what I considered her type and never imagined in a million years that he would be the ONE. But she wanted him from the moment she laid eyes on him and that was the end of it. They are still married, he adopted her son from a previous relationship and raised him as his own. Together, they had two more children. She is now the proud grandmother (AMAZING!) of a baby girl and sure enough, Monique is already dressing her up in the latest fashions. I love you Neeky! Thank you for your friendship! You know I am always here if you need me.

Raeshell, I have already written about you on my blog. There is just too much to say in just one paragraph. Thank you for the wild times, thank you for the life lessons, thank you for being there when I needed you and thank you for being there now cuz I never really stopped needing you.

Jenny, we have been living with each other for 20 years. We have helped raise each other's children, stood by each other through our successes and our failures, fought and made up, knocked each other down a notch or two when it was needed and given each other the strength to keep going when we didn't think we could take anymore. I think my stepmom summed it up best when I told her that I was moving to Planet Vernal and she said "I'm so happy for you!" and I said "Happy for me and Superman?" and she said "No! I'm happy for you and Jenny!" I couldn't live without you in my life. I wouldn't know how. You are more my sister than my friend and you know we'll still be confessing and fighting and nagging our husbands and driving our children bonkers together when we're eighty years old.

As for my Stella, my IZ, my Little Tomato and all of your beautiful friends, all I can say is, HANG ON! It's gonna be a bumpy ride! But as long as you've got each other, you can weather any storm. The friendships you forge at this time in your life will transcend time, men, children, loss, marriage, divorce, miles. It's a beautiful thing. A miracle really. There will never be a person in your entire life who will accept you, THE ENTIRE YOU, as much as your best women friends. Don't ever take it for granted. It's strong and it's mystical, held together by tears and laughter, shared experience and lots and lots of estrogen.

Legacy

"IN or OUT! IN or OUT!" That's what I remember hearing from my grandfather the most when I was little. Me, my brother and my cousins running in and out of the back door as we played games like hide and seek or cops and robbers. I found him to be imposing to say the least. Instead of being delighted by his giggling, squealing, precocious grandchildren, he was irritated by the sound of the screen door slamming and the feel of the hot air whooshing into his air conditioned comfort. He would sit right by the back door so there was no getting past him quietly if we needed a drink or had to go to the bathroom. We would open that screen door as gently as we could, thinking to slink past quiet as little mice but inevitably we would hear the crinkle of the newspaper he was reading and his hard and menacing voice say the words "IN or OUT!"

In his world, children were rarely seen and NEVER heard. My mother said that when she was growing up, if you answered with "what?" when he called your name, you were guaranteed a swat. You didn't say "what?", you just came and waited to hear whatever it was he needed from you.

Of course, he wasn't as bad as I imagined him to be. He was a born storyteller and I learned very early that the best way to get attention from him was to ask him about his grandma's life in the "olden days" or his time spent in the South Pacific during the war. I must have heard his stories a hundred times but I never grew tired of them. It was thrilling to have him pull me into his lap and begin to tell me about growing up in the Uintah Basin. About my tough as nails great great grandmother who raised him. Of the farm and his love of cars. Of meeting his father's family for the first time and how he was born in the bedroom of his family home in Duchesne, Utah. I never wanted those moments to end.

The truth is, I was in awe of my grandfather. To me, he was larger than life. There was nobody smarter, nobody tougher. Nobody had more life experience than he did. He was John Wayne in suitcoat and tie.

Years later, it was close to time for me to deliver my baby girl. I was living in an unfinished apartment, basically homeless, that had no running water of any kind. No carpet, just a wooden sub floor and it was built above a towing company and repo yard. I didn't know how I was going to take care of a baby in that place but I was determined to do it somehow.

My grandmother showed up one day and insisted that I come and stay with her. She would fix up the spare room for me and the baby and everything would be alright. Although I was grateful, I dreaded the thoughts of having a baby in the same house as my grandfather. What would he think of midnight crying and poopie diapers? If the screen door slamming bothered him, how in the world would he react to a screaming, caulicky infant?

But being a great grandfather suited him to a tee. I was constantly amazed by the gentleness in his tone and in his touch. If it concerned his granddaughter in any way, he wanted in on it. He would come home from work and make a beeline to whatever room she was in and coo and smile and laugh and hold and cuddle and love. He would dance with her in the living room and sing songs to her as they rocked in his big reclining chair. He would set her in her bouncy chair next to him on the grass and he would read her storybooks while they soaked in the sun. They even took their afternoon naps together. Where I tip-toed and spoke in whispers around my grandfather, IZ ran and screamed, twirled and sang, climbed all over him like a monkey and he couldn't get enough of it. He clapped and cheered at her smallest accomplishments and stuck up for her when I scolded her over some small transgression.

Eventually, IZ and I moved out of the house but my grandparents found an apartment that was two houses away from them. IZ was expected every morning for breakfast. She would slide the barstool over to the kitchen table next to her grandpa and they would eat cereal together and watch Looney Tunes on tv. He would listen while she babbled nonsense and act like everything she had to say was the most interesting thing he had ever heard. "Oh yeah?...You don't say..." They were each other's very best friend.

Grandpa brought IZ home a teddy bear after a business trip. It was a brown, homely little thing with a big red bow. At the time, she had a rather large duck named Sunny and the two were inseparable. They ate together, slept together, played dress up together...but when gramps gave IZ that bear, she had eyes for no other. That bear has been puked on, ripped, run over, sewed back together and gone through the washing machine too many times to count. It has only gotten uglier over the years but my 16 year old daughter still sleeps with him every night...because her grandpa, the most important man in her life, gave it to her.

My grandfather was diagnosed with Alzheimers a few months ago. It has been agony to watch him struggle to place faces to names, to try to recall how he knows you or even if he knows you. To hear him repeat the same question over and over again and eventually not even be able to form a question. To see the frustration and fear on his face when you can't understand what it is he's trying to say. His struggles and those of my beautiful grandma are breaking my heart.
I am grateful that when he sees me he puts me together with living in the Uintah Basin. All of the stories he told me growing up originated in this place and for a long time after he didn't recognize most people, all I would have to do was tell him where I lived and his face would light up and understanding would dawn and for a little while he would know me again.

And then there is my IZ. My grandmother keeps pictures of all the kids and grandkids on the refrigerator. Several times a day, my grandfather stops and studies them, pointing..."I know them. That's so and so." Over time, he has come to forget most of the faces in those pictures but even now, when things have gotten so bad that some days he doesn't even know his own wife, he still points to my IZ and says "I know her."

And GOD, I miss him. I miss him so much. What I wouldn't give to hear the words "IN or OUT." What I wouldn't pay to hear him laugh again. To hear him say my name. To get just one more hug. And how do I help IZ through this terrible thing that is causing our family so much pain? I mean, cancer, diabetes, heart disease, all of these horrible things that bring such fear but Alzheimers? I wouldn't wish such a death on my worst enemy. It's like he is dead but his body still walks around. His spirit is stuck in a prison and his heartbeat is counting down his sentence.

So I try to think about the time I did get with my grandpa. Not as much as I wanted but probably more than most. How grateful I am that we got to share raising my beautiful girl. How blessed that we experienced her together. I learned so much about him and from him. Where before I was in awe of and a little bit afraid of him, now I idolize him. He is truly one of the greatest of men. He showed me love in the only way he knew how. By loving my IZ. And how lucky is she that my baby girl knew him so well and was loved by him so much. She got to see his tender side, his silly side, his mischevious and boyish side. I couldn't have picked a better father figure for a little girl whose real father had abandoned her. God knew that these two needed each other and God knew how much I needed him too.

He has almost disappeared from our life, this giant of a man I love so much. I am praying for him to be free of this dread disease. I want him to be in a place where he no longer struggles to communicate, where he is no longer afraid. I want him to be reunited with loved ones he has been separated from for so long. And I want the comfort of knowing that he no longer suffers and that he is watching over us, just waiting for the time when we will get to be with him again.

He will never really be gone. Not to me and certainly not to IZ. He has become so much a part of who she is and who she is going to be. I want her to recognize that part of herself. I want her to carry it with her always and treasure her memories of him as something precious. I want thoughts of him to bring her joy and not sadness.

As for me, he has given me unending joy, deep spiritual knowledge, laughter, a love of history and all things past and present. An appreciation for slowing down and enjoying the things that really matter before life passes you by and all is lost.

Because of him, I will appreciate my children more, yell at them less. I will take the time to pass on my stories and life lessons. I will cherish my future grandchildren and give them lots of hugs so they never forget what I smell like and the feel of my arms around them. I will laugh with them often so they will still hear me after I am gone. I will instill in them a need to experience the world, figure out life's mysteries and keep up a strong relationship with God. He has left me a truly wonderful legacy. I promise Grandpa, I will pass it on.

Mantra

Yes! I'm still here and going strong. Lots of things have been happening in my small world. BIG things! It's getting harder for me to contain and deal with everything life seems to be throwing my way. My depression comes and goes. High highs and low lows. I'm not sure if one can develop bipolar disorder at 37 years old but that's what I feel like sometimes, like I might be a little crazy.

On a high note, we got moved in to our new home and I am liking it more and more. My boss gave the entire shop crew a day off paid to bring their trucks, trailers and muscle to my house to help Superman and I move. It was great! I was humbled that he would do that for me and so grateful.

I have been getting things put away, walls painted, the yard cleaned up and ready for spring planting (I can't even tell you how nice it is to have a yard again) and am feeling quite peaceful about our decision to move. I was looking forward to Mother's Day in my new house. All I wanted was a trip to the nursery to buy flowers and to not have to do any dishes all day. I got both of these things and it was heavenly.

Just coming down from the Mother's Day high when I received the call that sent me spiraling back down to the bottom again. My Aunt Heidi, beautiful, sweet, always says "I Love You" with her trademark kiss on the cheek/hug. Always wanting to know that "everything is going good? everything is fine? Oh Lee, I'm just so happy for you, IZ is growing and is just so beautiful..." My aunt whom everyone loves is dead. Suicide. SUICIDE!!! How can that be? I don't understand it. I have been dealing with a roller coaster of emotion but overall I am just so so angry. How could she do it? I don't know. I don't understand. I never will understand.

I missed the funeral. It was many hours drive away. We were literally living out of boxes and had no money for gas, food, etc. So I missed it. I was told that the line at the viewing was out the door and around the block. Now guilt has been added to my anger at this whole bloody mess.

My father and brother called after the funeral to tell me that it was OK that I wasn't there. That they understood and they knew I was feeling bad and not to. Then they put my stepmother on the phone and for 30 minutes I listened to screaming, crying and lots of "Where were you? Out of all my kids I needed you there the most!" and I was HORRIFIED and wracked with guilt and could only repeat over and over again that I was sorry, SO SORRY!

Now I know that if I had been there, my presence would have hardly made a ripple but since I wasn't there, suddenly I was "the child needed there the most". I am a terrible person. A terrible daughter. I don't even know, at this point, what to do to make things better. I just don't even know. It's been over a month and I still don't know.

My kids are out of town right now. Two have gone to Las Vegas to stay with their aunties for 3 weeks and one has gone to my old home town to stay with friends and visit family. They are having a great time and I am really enjoying the break but miss them already. This has also given me time to get back into some healthy eating habits. It's a lot easier to eat healthy when I'm cooking for just me instead of 5 or 6. And my treadmill is actually getting a workout cuz I can come home from work and not have to pick up kids, go grocery shopping and make dinner every single day.

Superman and I have spent the down time working on the yard. It's looking nice and I like to just sit out there and look at the flowers. I know that sounds weird but I enjoy them a lot more knowing that I'm the one that put them in the ground and is helping them grow. I've never really been able to do that before and it makes me happy.

And I am so thankful...thankful for my wonderful children, my perfect (most of the time) Superman, my lovely little home with a beautiful yard. My flowers, my pets, the gorgeous weather and the fact that I have a good job and Superman is working right now when so many others are not.

I have also been speaking to a lot of old friends that I haven't talked to in a long time. Thanks to a certain social networking site, which is so not me and started out as a lark, I have found my old friends from grade school. They have reminded me of so many good things that I had forgotten about. How I could forget some of those wonderful memories is beyond me. But I have also found that I have meant more to these fabulous women than I ever knew. I didn't know that my friendship meant so much to them. I knew what they meant to me but I didn't know that I had impacted their lives like I did. It's been gratifying and I'm feeling so much more significant than I did before. I want to thank them for that. It just goes to show that we can influence, inspire, lift up, guide, give support and show love even when we don't know what we're doing. I just blundered through my childhood yet I made a difference in their lives. Thank you , my beautiful friends for helping me to see that. I love you all so much.

I know this is not a stellar post. I have so much to write about. It's all stored up in my head but it's been so long since I've posted I just wanted to let everyone know what's been going on in my world. I'm trying really hard to focus on the things that really matter.

My Superman and I were having a discussion about keeping things in perspective and counting our blessings and then he told me something I did not know. Every day when he's on his way to work he repeats to himself what he calls his Mantra. "I love my wife. I love my life. I love my health. I love my wealth. I love my children." No, it's not poetry but isn't that beautiful? That's his reminder of why he works so hard and what it's really all about.

I love my Superman.

I love my children.

I love my health.

I love my wealth.

I love my life.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Come on Va'lea! SMILE for Mommy...

AWWWW! That's a good boy!

Friday, May 22, 2009

Shredded

First of all....YES!!! We got the cute little split level. YES!!! I love it! YES!!! I am going to get some paint and a door and some wood and nails because we actually had to turn the downstairs living room into the master bedroom because our furniture wouldn't fit in the ACTUAL bedroom. But it's gonna be great cuz now I have a HUGE bedroom (with no door...yet). I now have my own master bath which was one of the things I was really gonna miss in my old house. Let's forget that the walls are currently Dark Emerald Green and that two people cannot fit in the bathroom at the same time. Let's not worry about the fact that EVERY AVAILABLE cupboard and drawer in my kitchen is stuffed to the brim and I still have 4 FULL boxes of kitchen stuff that has yet to be put away.

I am going to focus on the FABULOUS color of red I picked to paint the front door, my dogs running deliriously around the yard cuz it's the first time in MONTHS they've been able to run without being on a leash and my superman's over sized garage with shelves and a wood burning stove that he is going to turn into his "man room" so that I can have my very own scrap booking (yeah right) room in the basement.

And life is bright and sunny again. The move was fairly smooth and the bills are going to get paid and we are great...and then...WHAM! The hits just keep on coming...

I met IZ's father (let's call him Sperm Donor...no?...ok then S.D.) when I was 19. He was 29. I was living in Arizona and my friend that I had moved out there with had just left to go back to her husband. I was alone and didn't know anybody. I really just wanted to go home but didn't have a home to go home to as my mom and step dad had just separated and she was living in my grandmother's basement. I met this guy who was charming and funny and LOUD and liked to party. And he was older, which I thought meant he was wiser and he wanted to love me and take care of me or maybe he just wanted to have sex with me and I was too naive to GET THAT!

We moved in together really quick. I wanted to get married. I wanted to play house. I had extremely romantic notions of what marriage was about. And you know, the truth is, I figured I had nothing to loose. I thought that if things didn't work out with SD that there would be other guys just waiting. I hadn't been without a boyfriend EVER at that point. I didn't know what love was, what it really felt like and the passion and excitement, the flattery and kisses, the presents and promises of those first few months were what I really craved. When all that stuff was over with and reality sunk in, I was bored and done and moving on. But I was 19! And I really thought that's what love WAS! and that when REAL love came along that initial PASSION and FIRE would never go away.

Things were never really good between SD and I. He wanted control. He wanted me under his thumb and afraid all the time. He put me down, called me names, told me I was stupid and I believed him and allowed him that control for a little while but I have never been the kind of person who can handle being told what to do. ASK me to do something and I will bend over backwards but TELL me to do it and you can kiss my ass.

So it wasn't a good fit. We were never partners, never equal and I WAS afraid. Just about the time I decided to pack my bags and sneak away in the middle of the night he started to take my keys away so I couldn't leave the house, told the few friends I had to STAY AWAY from me behind my back and made me believe that nobody loved me but him.

By the time we returned to Utah I was pregnant. When I told him...he dumped me...but with conditions. See, he still wanted that control. What he told me was that I BELONGED to him. I would NEVER be ALLOWED to marry anyone else, I would NEVER be ALLOWED to have any other children. I was HIS. FOREVER.

Talk about shatter my world, SHRED my dreams and spit on what is left of me. I didn't have him, not his support, not his money, certainly not his love but I couldn't have anything else either. I felt like I had been stripped of everything that was me. The mind games and threats were almost more than I could bare. I was in TOTAL SHOCK that there were men in this world who could treat somebody SO BAD. I just didn't know. I mean, I knew relationships went south all the time but I had never had my heart SHREDDED like that.

Thankfully, he had to leave the state because he got into trouble with the law. IZ was four months old. He came to my grandparents house where I was staying and cried over his sorry life and said goodbye. He didn't hold our daughter, he didn't even seem to see her and then he was gone.

I wish I could say I never heard from him again but it wasn't that simple. He called me MANY times over the years, mostly just to threaten or yell or blame me for his problems. He only paid child support when ORS caught up to him and that was after phone calls and yelling. He stated often that he wanted to SEE his daughter! That I was keeping him from seeing her. That my family was CRAZY! That I was being controlled by them! But the facts are THIS, I lived in the same place for 13 years. My phone number was the same, my address was the same and my job was the same. He always knew where to find me, where to call me and at any time could have showed up on my doorstep to SEE his child. HE NEVER DID. EVER. Not in 16 years. It has been at least three years since his last phone call to me and that was when his mother passed away. It was 5 minutes of ranting, raving lunacy. Scared me to death and my only thought was, wow, he hasn't changed one bit. He's exactly the same as he was when we were together. Time has not made him wiser or gentler. He has not seen the light or the errors of his ways and I am so thankful that my IZ didn't have to be subjected to the dis function.

Then...last night...the phone call went something like this..."MOM, guess who found me on myspace...?" My heart dropped into my stomach. I became physically ill. I heard the motor of that shredder starting up and I became very afraid. Only this time I'm not afraid for me. I'm afraid for her. My baby girls heart is innocent and unscarred.

I know she is curious about him. I know she has built up in her mind a mythical figure, a fantasy of what she hopes her father will be. I know she wants to see for herself that she has his eyes, his forehead, his smile. She probably has dreams of flying across the country and the two of them walking the beach hand in hand, discussing all of life's adventures and mysteries but maybe I've done her a disservice. Maybe I've protected her too much. Like me, she doesn't know who cruel men can be.

I'm writing this in a haze. I've had no sleep and the sleep I did get last night was full of nightmares and anxiety. I don't know what to do. I feel helpless and adrift. I want my baby to be happy. That's all I want. I can't stand the thought of her disappointment if he doesn't come through with the promises that I KNOW he's going to make.

Is this my own broken heart talking? Am I really not over this after 16 years? Or are my fears real? Someone, anyone...if you have any advice for me...I need it. Please give me some guidance here. It took me YEARS to glue back together the pieces of my shredded heart, my shredded life. I need to protect my IZ but I also know she deserves to know who she is, where she comes from. Someone please tell me how to protect her and let her go at the same time.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Lullabies? We don't need no stinkin' lullabies!

This is my mom at 16 years old. Only a few weeks before she got pregnant with my twin brother and I. My dad was her childhood sweetheart. They grew up on opposite corners of the same block. My stepmom once told me that my father only loved two women in his whole life and my mom was his first true love. When they were kids, my dad accidentally hit her in the face with a basketball (I'm sure he was showing off) and her jaw still pops to this day. Not a good omen but they did eventually get married. It was a "shotgun" wedding in my grandparents living room. My mom wore a white mini dress and white platform sandals. I loved that dress and her in it.

My parents moved into a single wide trailer in a trailer park and my dad went to work in the local steel plant where he still works to this day. They were broke. They were scared. 17 and 18 year old parents of twin babies. It would have been a miracle if their marriage had lasted.

In those days there was no child welfare, no WIC for single mothers. My mom had to juggle twin toddlers, a full time job, a home and dating and she had to do it all by herself. Now I'm not going to pretend that it was easy. I remember getting into a freezing car with no heater before the sun came up so she could drop us at the babysitters before work. I remember not getting picked up sometimes until after dark. I remember my mom crying from exhaustion and being home alone with my brother sometimes cuz my mom had to do what she had to do. Yes, it was scary and it was difficult but I didn't really know any different. You know, I didn't even know what "Divorce" was until I was like 10 years old and then I didn't even associate it with myself. Cuz I didn't really know what it was like to live in a home with two parents. I just thought that's the way things were.

My mom was goofy and a free spirit. I remember she would sit cross-legged on the couch with a towel on her lap. She would brush her long dark hair down over her face and then she would part it and roll it up into hot rollers. When she took out those rollers her curls would fall down to her shoulders and BOUNCE! I always thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

She would play hide & seek with us in the dark. She was an excellent hider. She would wait in her hiding place until we were almost frantic and then she would reveal herself and we would squeal with a mixture of delight and relief as she pulled us into her arms for big big hugs.

We didn't get lullabies, my mom pulled out her guitar and sang "Ghost Riders in the Sky." and "Rawhide". When the power would go out she would light an old candle in a tin and we would sit around the kitchen table and tell stories into the night.

I don't remember wanting for anything though I'm sure we did and knowing how much my brother and I liked to read she would spend money that I know she didn't have on STACKS of books so we never ran out of new reading material.

I have so many good memories of my mom but looking back I think the happiest time from my childhood was when it was just us. It must have been the hardest time for her but before my stepdad came, we were the focus of her ENTIRE WORLD, her whole motivation to succeed. She did WHATEVER it took to get us through.

My mom is tough, strong but beautiful and always smiling. She can sing like an angel and scream like the devil. She's goofy and has a wicked sense of humor and she loves to be different. She stands out from the crowd. She taught me my work ethic and how to keep going in the face of the worst life has to offer. And together, we have made it through.

I know she carries around her mommy guilt for having to work so much, for not knowing how bad things were with the "Stepdad from hell" or not knowing what to do about it if she did. And we had a lot of mommy-daughter knock downs but that was from pure fear and frustration cuz she just didn't know what to do with her out of control, rebellious daughter. But as far as mom's go? I think think she's perfect.

She reminds me through her example to always be myself. She makes me laugh hysterically and she gives me strength when I start to cave under my everyday pressures. She's a FANTASTIC grandma. But most important, through good times and bad, my mom has LOVED me and I have never doubted that love. NEVER.

Mommy, on this Mother's Day I just want to say THANK YOU! It's not enough, this little blog, but I can never repay you for the life you have given me and the things you have taught and instilled in me but I want you to know how proud I am that you are MINE and that I love you.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

"The sacrifice which causes sorrow is no sacrifice. Real sacrifice lightens the mind and gives him a sense of real peace and joy." - Mahatma Gandhi

Superman and I live in a beautiful home. Sometimes I walk in the front door and look around and can't believe how lucky I am. I know that sounds materialistic but I was a single mom for 12 years. I watched all of my friends get married, have babies and build their dream homes. And no, I wasn't jealous. I can honestly say that I am happy for them. I knew that one day the RIGHT guy would come into my life and all good things would happen for me.

But lately, with the bad economy and hearing on the news about lay offs to come and oil prices falling and recessions and depressions, I've been really worried. On Planet Vernal companies are folding, people are losing their jobs and in my neighborhood alone, I have watched four families move out of their dream homes because their income has dried up.

So far, SM and I have been lucky, we are making ends meet but we honestly don't know from one week to the next how long he will have a job. And it's not like we can just pull up stakes and move to a new job in a new city cuz things are rough ALL OVER.

Last fall, Superman's father underwent a major heart bypass surgery. We almost lost him. SM's brother also underwent the same procedure a couple years ago and he is still a young guy. Superman is almost 47 years old. He doesn't eat healthy and he works in a very physical, high stress job. Add to that the stress of providing for me and the kids and the man is a walking time bomb. I am not so naive as to think it can't happen to us.

This has been weighing heavily on my mind over the last few months. I worry for my love's health and his peace of mind. I'm coming to the realization that having the nice home and driving the nice car does not bring security. I don't feel any safer. I don't worry about money any less. In fact, I think this house is nothing but a constant reminder to my super hero that his job is never done.

I've decided that it all comes down to sacrifice. Sacrificing the material in exchange for the spiritual. Giving up my home that when we moved in I thought was perfect for our family. Even though it makes me sad, at the same time I can't help but think what a relief it will be to unload that sucker and have a rent payment that is half of what we are currently paying.

Having come to a decision, Superman and I have been scouring the newspapers, checking online and making phone calls. I can't believe the rent people are charging for sub par housing these days. It seems like everybody is trying to make a buck. But I am ready to do this. Honestly, I can't wait. We have put in some applications on some rentals and, fingers crossed, there is a certain one that, yes, it's older, a little smelly and has really bad carpets. But it has a beautiful fenced yard, a lovely field at the back, a perfect spot for a garden and it's in a quiet safe neighborhood. I am PRAYING we get it. It's small and humble and wonderful.

I see good things on our horizon. I see us able to shirk off our material possessions and enjoy life more. I see a smile on Superman's face when he comes home from work instead of worry and fatigue. I see him healthy and stress free. I see us paying off debt and putting money aside for our little slice of heaven in Brisbane. I think it's a worthy goal. I think its worth any sacrifice.

I would so much appreciate your prayers and good wishes that we get this little rental house. We'll have a BBQ to celebrate and you're all invited! We'll burn candles and maybe the carpets to get the smell out (ha ha) and hopefully you'll see a new me, a new us. Someone who is looking forward to all the good things the future has in store for us. And I know that when it's all said and done, it won't feel so much like a sacrifice but more like a blessing. A sense of real peace and joy. In this world, what more could I ask for?

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Update!!!

Hey everybody! Um...about my post yesterday...i was feeling a little bit...um...fragile. I didn't mean to alarm anyone (Mom, Stephanie). I had just found myself in a very bad place emotionally that I haven't been to in a long long time. I didn't handle it well. I'm a little embarrassed. My first thought was to delete the post but that's just not cool to throw a piece of myself out there to you all and then just snatch it back.

So it's Wednesday morning and I must say, I'm feeling a whole lot better. Ahem...anyone else wanna take a ride on this crazy train? Or maybe a roller coaster would be a better description for the last 24 hours of my life.

My superman showed up at home last night. He wasn't supposed to be home until the end of the week. I was in my closet hanging up some things and turned around to find a big dark man standing in my bathroom. I'm surprised the neighbors didn't call 911 cuz I screamed really loud. When it finally registered that it was Superman standing there, covered in dirt and smelling like diesel fuel, grinning like a mad man, I ran into his arms and then burst into tears.

It's the first time I've laughed out loud in days. It felt good and I saw this little ray of sunshine peek out from behind the clouds that have been circling in my atmosphere.

I never thought I was the type of person who's world could revolve around a man. I was single for a long long time and even though I WANTED a significant other, I didn't really NEED a significant other. So it's amazing to me how content I am when Superman is home. And I am disappointed in myself that I can fall apart so quickly when he is gone.

Anywho, I am still here. I know this is depression that I'm feeling and I know that this goes beyond the realm of what is normal sadness but today is better than yesterday. I am still extremely fragile. My cracks are showing and a part of me knows that it wouldn't take much to break me. But I have my Superman. I have my wonderful kids. I have my family and my friends (who by the way made it perfectly clear to me yesterday that I will never have to go through this life alone). And I've decided that I'm not quite ready to see a doctor yet but I'm gonna change my eating habits and start a good exercise regimen beginning today. I'm going to talk about my feelings more and not bottle them up inside. I'm going to make a list of the things in my life that I am thankful for and post it above my treadmill so I can look at it everyday and I'm going to get better.

I'll take my ray of sunshine today and maybe tomorrow it will be fair to partly cloudy. Hopefully soon, I'll be myself again. But I just wanted to take a moment to thank you, you know who you are, for being there for me when I need you. To point out to me the things that are important or just allow me to cry on your shoulder. I am truly thankful and I am truly blessed.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Black Tuesday

I don't know what happened...I've been doing fine. Keeping the house clean and the dogs fed. Picking up the kids from tennis and baseball. Getting my ass out of bed everyday and going to work. Climbing into bed at night, without my Superman's body tangled up with mine.

I am supposed to be the strong one. I'm supposed to be the one that keeps it all together until he comes home. But I am falling apart.

3 weeks is not that long, he's coming home on Friday? maybe? But I'm not sleeping. 2 am, 3 am, 4 am...until my alarm goes off at 6 and I toss and turn and worry. What am I so worried about? I don't know. He still calls me everyday. Sends me text messages. Tells me how much he loves me. But I can hear the tension in his voice, the stress of the last few weeks, building. He's testy and impatient. He's tired and he doesn't feel well. He hates that the only work they have for him right now is out of state and because we gotta pay the bills, and there are no other jobs out there right now, he doesn't have a choice.

And dang, I've got it made...I've got my own bed, my own shower, my kids around me. I get my clothes out of a closet, not a suitcase and I have a washer and a dryer right down the hall anytime I need it. What do I have to bitch about? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I feel like this is my fault. Maybe if we didn't live in this house or I didn't drive this car. Maybe I spend too much on groceries or I shouldn't have brought home another dog to feed. I feel like he's doing all of this for me, cuz he feels like he has to. But he doesn't. I would live in a camp trailer as long as I had him by my side. As long as he was happy and not stressed and didn't have to work so damn hard.

So here I am on this perfectly normal Tuesday, sitting at my desk, trying not to completely lose my mind. The worst part is, the cracks are starting to show. How can a normal, sane person go from well...normal and sane...to a basket case in 12 hours? I don't know what to do? I feel sick in my body and my soul. I hate the way I look and the weight I've gained. I can't even look at myself in the mirror without wanting to cry. I haven't felt such despair since...I can't even remember when and it feels like it's not going away anytime soon. How am I going to hide this from my superman? How the hell am I going to put on my smile and hug and kiss him when he gets home? How am I going to go home today and pretend in front of my kids that life is roses? This isn't as easy as saying "SNAP OUT OF IT!" Believe me, I've tried.

It's gotta be some kind of chemical imbalance right? I mean...mood=despair is not a normal emotion. Mood=sad? Yes. Mood=Tired? Yes. Normal. But mood=want to curl up in a ball and cry till it hurts...I don't think that's normal.

I'm asking for your help. Who am I asking? Whoever! Whoever knows? Understands? What do I do? See a doctor? Run a 5k? Go out and get sloppy drunk? How do I pull myself out of this? It hurts. I need to see the sun again. Cuz it's getting blacker and I'm afraid of the dark.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Golden

Once upon a time in a very small town where nothing exciting ever happens, there lived two golden-haired, laughing girls, RS and PG. RS lived with an alcoholic stepfather who had a violent temper and when he was drinking would take out his anger on his wife and children. PG lived with an absent mother and a stepfather who only acknowledged her existence when he wanted to make fun of her or tear her down. Despite their less than ideal upbringing, both girls were fun-loving, had many friends and a strong belief that they were destined for something better.

Then one day the two girls met and somehow they knew that they had found in each other kindred spirits who understood each others hopes, dreams, worries and fears. They lifted each other up and supported one another through all their trials and triumphs.

The girls had many grand adventures. Being from a small town they often had to make their own fun. Most people thought them quite wild and shook their heads in dismay at their antics. But the people who really knew and loved them knew that the girls only wanted to have a good time, that they never wanted to harm anybody and were only trying to make a little magic to lighten up their dreary worlds.

RS and PG were fearless. Standing at each others side they could face down any foe, talk themselves out of any sticky situation and bring most any handsome boy they set their sights on to his knees. Together, they were invincible...or so they thought.

Their world was turned upside down when RS found out she was going to have a baby. She seemed to understand the gravity of the situation but PG was thinking everything would work out. They would still see each other everyday, hang out all the time and once the baby arrived, things could go back to the way they were before. Of course things couldn't and didn't work out that way.

RS left school to face her realities and PG, left alone without her dearest friend began to founder. Unable to cope with her loneliness she turned to harder friends, harder drugs, left her boyfriend, who was a good boy and treated her well, moved out of state and got involved with an older man who promised to take care of her but wasn't very nice to her. When she too ended up pregnant, she left her abusive relationship and returned home without a clue what to do.

Running to RS for guidance, she was disillusioned and afraid to find her friend had no answers. She was struggling too, just trying to raise her baby girl and survive from day to day.

PG decided that she was being punished for her mistakes. That somehow, the way she had chosen to live her life was to blame for the reality she now had to face. She thought that in order to be a good mom she would have to give up her old life, clean up her act and thinking this was the only way to take control of the situation she started to act a bit "holier than thou". She began to alienate her friends and without even realizing what she'd done, she pushed RS out of her life.

But she never stopped thinking about her friend. She often wondered if RS was ok, if she was happy, if she'd found true love but after awhile, her memories became too painful so PG tucked her friend away in her heart with a hope and a quiet prayer that one day she would find RS again.

16 years later, PG finds herself on Planet Vernal with the love of her life by her side, a houseful of beautiful, energetic, vivacious and moody girls, working full time, mothering full time and in a place where she's finally found peace with herself and made her dreams a reality. Her co-worker and lovely friend Dee sends her an invitation to join Facebook and even though that is so not PG's style, she signs up and finds that many of her friends and family are already there. Before she knows it she's hooked up with all of her family in Australia, her children, nieces and nephews and it suddenly dawns on her that maybe, just maybe this is where she will find her long lost friend.

With beating heart and clammy hands, PG types in her friends name and hits enter. How was she to know that only a few days earlier, with the help of her children, RS had set up her own Facebook page. Still, after 16 years, this connection of the heart had led them back to each other again. PG clicked on every icon and tab from RS's page, hungry for any and all info on her beautiful friend. She was delighted to see a picture of RS's baby girl, 18 years old, grown and gorgeous standing next to yet another teenage daughter who is the spitting image of her mom. PG thrilled to see RS, looking not a day older, holding her youngest, darling boy who, though suffering from cerebral palsy, had his mom's contagious smile and her same blue eyes that shined with light and joy...

My friend RS and I were reunited that evening over the phone. A four hour conversation was not long enough to say all there was to say. We found ourselves still able to share our hopes, dreams, worries and fears. RS is still the same warm, fun, laughing and caring girl I remember from so long ago and I was not surprised to find my friend has become strong and courageous, spiritual and wise.

RS, I stand all amazed. You are truly brave and remarkable. Thank God that we have both made it to a place where we have learned to count our blessings, be thankful for our trials and have found happiness, true love and joy. I am so happy that we have found each other again. Thrilled to see that you still have things to teach me and that we still have plenty of room to grow together. I wish so much I had been there for you when your beautiful angel, Colton passed from this world. But I am here now.

I can't wait to see where our adventures will take us. I know in my soul that God has a plan for you and I. I love you so much my dear, sweet, golden-haired and laughing friend.