2018

  Monday mornings were when I would check in. When Mom and I would sync our calendars.  Or I could run up after dropping  off the girls to school and visit with her. She and I would sit in the kitchen at the table and talk. Mondays worked out really well because everyone was busy and we could just be. 
  Now, there are no calls. Now I just pick up my phone and cry. Since The Great Campaign of 2018, I don't trust anyone enough. And Granny is gone too. It's an odd feeling. Standing.
Motherless.
 Fatherless. 
Without war. 
Just gone. 
  At least its dark out today. 

Long Black Road

"It's been a long day without you my Friend." 

 Who knew. 

Who knew that when I started out in this journey I would cross paths with such extraordinary people. People who make the days brighter. People whose smiles heal wounds. People whose genius trickles down and seeps into the cracks of my psyche. I didn't. 

 I keep my universe a very small place. The fewer people in it, the better. Trust is over rated and not easily earned, and privacy is paramount. Over the small space of my life I have had the privilege invite some incredible people into my sanctuary. Not just the kitchen, where great coffee, divine treats, and copius amounts of love lives. But into the sanctuary of my mind, or deeper and less likely, my heart. These people are the ones that make my world a better place. The ones that teach me how to brighten and better as I go. Every moment with someone I love and trust is sacred. Every moment emblazoned in my memory. Kept to rejuvenate me when I can't speak to that person, or can't see them. 

 Now if I didn't know that I would meet and accept such amazing people, then for sure I didn't know how painful it would be when the path we on are splits and we have to go separate ways. 

What the? 

Where did you go? 

Why? 

 I get it. 

 We all have a path. And if we are lucky enough to have a fellow traveler as we traverse life, then we can count it as a blessing, a miracle. But eventually, one way or another we always end up walking alone for a while. 

 Thank you to those who walk with me. And thank you to those whose path is no longer intersecting with mine. You have given me so much, and remember that just as I walk with a piece of you in my heart, you also have taken a piece of me. 

I hope with all my heart that our paths cross again. 

"It's been a long day without you my Friend, and I'll tell you all about it when I see you again." 

Charlie Puth, Wiz Khalifa

http://youtu.be/RgKAFK5djSk

Back To Me

"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed." 

~Hemingway

 Like bleeding a wound, writing soothes my tumultuous soul. 

Is that why I feel over inflated? Have I let this soul fester? Restraining my tounge, keeping the peace.  Working in vain to quiet the swell in the depths of my mind. Showing forth greater love, sitting as a safe haven for toxicity. Once I had a solid spine, once my wit was a sharpened sword, laying in wait for whatever beast strode my way. Now the bloat, and slowness of my pace have overtaken the wolf I once was. 

 Paint under my nails, hands riddled with cuts and flowing with blood, words spewing like green vomit from the possessed, I will claw my way Back To Me.

  It costs to much to be anyone else. 

Grave Robbers Point~ The Last Thing

  " Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him Horatio." 

                                                              ~Hamlet 

       
 The first time I ever ran away from home I chose to go a scant three blocks to the house of an elderly couple. They went to my church, and were long time friends of my family. She a dark haired, kindly lady, He a handsome and hulking man. I showed up on their door step, bags and teddy in tow and They let me in. She made me warm peaches and cream and left me alone to tell Him why I would like to reside at their house from now on. He listened to many small reasons patiently. Nodding and humphing at the appropriate intervals until my tale was told. Then He sat back in His chair, took a long deep breath, and meditated. I felt confident that They would keep me. After all I already sat with them during church, and I visited them many times a week. So my surprise was genuine when He said that I should go home. He said that despite my feelings to the contrary, my parents did love me, and would miss me. He mentioned how lonely my sisters would be and reminded me about my dog. Explaining that as much as They loved me I did not belong with Them. Eventually, after many treats, They persuaded me to return to my dog, sisters and parents. (In that order).

  Today, on an unseasonably warm and beautiful January afternoon I stood back as He was laid to rest next to the wife who left his side only weeks before. It was a small, military graveside service, I having never met any of his children, spoke only to an ancient woman who knew me as a child. Once the scene was void of the living, alongside grave diggers I set to work on the last thing I could do for this Man. I removed my scarf paired gloves with a shovel and began to bury His body.

  During my many wanderings up and down the roads of the cemetery I have become familiar with a name or two. An old school friend and his brother, the old neighbor, a teacher, my family, the family of friends. I take more notice and pay more care to the ones I knew, in turn they provide me with the reminder of the fragility of existence. To bury the remains of an unknown person is something done with reverence and respect. Burying whats left of a friend is something sacred.


 Today, what was once a man I knew was what I now covered with earth. Beneath the lid was a face I had kissed. Arms that had hugged me and carried me, hands that could be counted upon to produce candy at any time. My shovel moved on its own as I, disconnected from my body, watched mournfully. Somewhere I registered that His soul hovered not far off. Part of my brain filled with the moments that compiled memories, another small section recalling how it always seems that people I love get the most agreeable weather for burial, and the other portions divided between my children, my aging grandparents, and to how peaceful I felt at that moment.

  For the first time I was grateful for my crime and the opportunity it had afforded me. To be able to pay respect and homage in a way most are never allowed. My hours today did not go towards my sentence, they went towards a life lived well.

 

Exhale

 Why does that sound so simple?

  I often have to tell my daughters to take a deep breath in order to calm their world and stop it from spinning. They appear to manage it. Why am I finding it so very difficult? Where is my breath? Where is my brain?

  Is it because my wants are too many? Is it because my head is too full? Maybe my lungs are at capacity. Am I up? Or am I upside down? No latitude, no space, no room for a mistake.

 Is this what it feels like to drown? To be suffocated?

 In either case and without further a due, down The Rabbit Hole I go, feet first I pray.  

                 

Nefarious Thoughts

    What do I do with these homicidal thoughts swirling around inside my brain?

Why does slime posing as a human, have to eek it's way into happy lives?

It makes me ill.

It makes me angry.



 


 Then before I know what has happened thoughts of nefarious uses for a shiny shovel begin to fill my head, and I am smiling.

 My jaw tightens, my hands become fists, and as hot, furious tears form I fight the desire to break things.

Deep breath.

Sip of hot coffee.

Still trembling. Still angry.

Remember nothing last forever, and everything has a possitive aspect.

Find it.

Forget it.

 I want to inflict pain! I want to be the Karmic repercussion of someone else s poor choices. I want them to suffer! To feel the agony that I struggle with hourly.

I want justice.

I want equality.

I want Peace and Joy.

I want to purge the feelings of hate that poison me and my Loves.

Somebody Help me..

Magic Made

      It began with Sherlock.

  Of late my young pup has been growing into more of a Dog. In that transformation he has acquired a taste for the occasional constitutional. On a way out, or on a way in this morning a door must have been left ajar just enough for the slender, sneaky pooch to escape.

Lovely.

  After that it was all down hill. A coffee spilling, homework forgetting, financially fretting,  sexually impeding, run in with the law, dinner burning kind of a day. Somewhere between the sexual impeding, and the coffee spilling, I lost it. Overcome with despair, worry and frustration I went into zombie mode, on autopilot. Through two meetings, an impromptu visit to a sick nephew, and the four unexpected dropins, I was in another dimension. Removed enough to not to take notice of what was being said around me. So wrapped up in how sorry I was feeling for myself that I required another lesson in humanity, humility, gratitude and magic.

 Three quarters of the way into meeting number two I received a frantic phone call.
Was I home? Was I close?
What is wrong?...

"The dog catcher is outside and he is after Sherlock!! I will put some clothes on and see if I can get him before he does!CLICK"

 Of course. I mean obviously today is Dog Catcher Day for Sherlock, I just didn't check the calender.

  Making my apologies I dash home to rescue my rescuer. Upon my arrival Sherlock had already been snatched from the clutches of the eager hound impounder and was visiting his beloved Gretta who belongs to his rescuer. Following a somewhat lengthy and stern conversation with the officer I went to fetch my dog. Still wallowing in my own misery I walked to  the home of his girlfriend and collected the muddy mess. But before I departed the home of Gretta, his rescuer rescued me. As I sobbed into her arms with gratitude I unconsciously noticed how strong she was.

*Light Bulb*

 The woman who was hugging me so unconditionally was doing so two days after having one hundred twenty eight stitches removed from her chest. The woman who made my daughters Halloween costume had done so while undergoing treatments. The woman who took my children to ice cream once a week if they did one worksheet, was very ill and in pain often. The woman who frantically called me and saved my dog (again) has been going through things that I cant comprehend, and here she is giving of herself in ways I don't feel I deserve.

  Still in semi zombie mode, but walking in a straight line, my day progressed. The children came home filled with the excitement of December. Telling me what parties were when and how well they had done in school today. They hugged me, laughed at each other and did their homework. Then the oldest girl got home. She walked in the door, and as she does every day after admiring her tree and decorations said "Oh Mom, Merry Christmas. I love you.

 But it wasn't until we had curled up on the sofa to read 'A Christmas Carol' that the force of it hit me.

 How in the world could I be so narrow? I am an incredibly fortunate person. My problems and issues are so meager in the scheme of things. My dear neighbour is fighting breast cancer, the child of a family friend was  just diagnosed with brain cancer, my girlfriend is having difficulties with a pregnancy and may lose her baby. I know of families who may not have a Christmas. I know of families who do not have dinner tonight.

 Make magic this year. Be kind to your fellow humans. Take time for the ones you love and who love you. Do more than one good deed  for someone you don't know. Don't ever stop being grateful for who you have in your life. and remember ;

"Life will inevitably move you two steps back one way or another, that's just how it works. You are never on top for very long, and you are never at the bottom very long either. But if you can keep your head up, focus on what truly matters, and help where you can, then happiness will find you and you'll be alright."
K. Kirkham