Echoes of the Right Thing...

I had to do the right thing...I can't stand the nagging little voice in my head that sometimes keeps on telling me to act upon my better nature and do what I know is right. So, I emailed KR. It had been since July and I didn't get the reply I wanted then so what would make this any different?!? No, I'll just wait...But, oh no. There's that voice thing again, conscience, I think it's called. Or in cartoon parlance, it's the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other.

So, I just dropped a "Hi, hello, how are ya doing," kind of a note. He did let me know that he's sorry about our house still sitting on the market. He informed me that his father-in-law is down to just a matter of days left on this earth. I'm grieving for my SIL. It's so hard to lose a parent.

In reading my bro's blog, he mentioned that he's writing a third book. I feel so sad that I have to find out about his life that way. He had gone to S.C. for a TV interview for his second book - I got that from the blog also. Of course, I used that as a gateway for my email...it was a way to congratulate him on all the things that are going well for him. And, truthfully??? I mean it. I really do.

I watched a TV program today (Naomi Judd on Hallmark). One of the questions was, if you were estranged from a sibling and he/she needed a kidney, would you step forward and offer yours. I immediately knew that I would. I realize that I sound like a martyr and I don't want to appear that way. It's just in my spirit.

Funny thing about me: I was standing at the kitchen sink one day and watched a mouse scurry out from under our pond and dart out and grab some stray bird seed that the doves had scattered. My husband happened to see it, too, and the next thing I knew, he was making big plans for the immediate death of the poor mouse. Now, I know that having vermin in your backyard is not a real good thing. But, my imagination took over and I saw a whole family of little mice awaiting more life sustaining seed coming their way to fill their little bellies. Wally looked at me and knew it was a lost cause.

A few days later, I was standing in the same spot and here comes my cute little mouse again. Before I could blink, a hawk swooped down and grabbed Mr./Mrs. Mouse in his talons and flew away to the top of my fence and proceeded to rip him into a mouse taco. Arghhh! I went out the door and swooshed him away and he obliged with the departed mouse in tow.

The lesson I took from this is that nature and nuture cannot always be symbiotic, as dearly as I would love this to be so. This is true with my relationship with my bro. I love him dearly but his nature and mine are no longer symbiotic unless I participate in a little back patting. This is necessary for any kind of relationship with him. I understand this is due to the nuturing he had as a child. I think that's why my absence at the important party was such an issue. Anyway, although my self-image is important also, it must be fed by a different stream and I must continue to be a nuturer. Would I give my kidney? You bet I would. Can I give my pride? When I can....

Echoes of "Reason to Not Fall..."

Here's a photo of the biggest reason to pull myself together and try a little harder.
This is us at Christmas, 2005 at Corinne's. He's getting ready to take off in a WWII fighter plane, a dream come true. This is Wally and Zoe, his Mini-Schnauzer, and canine love-of-life.

He has stood by me and all my craziness, migraines, IBS, Chronic Fatigue (or whatever the heck it is); BiPolar/Mania/Depression. Then there were out-of-control teenagers, drinking, drugs, pregnancies. Through the grace of God, He got us through the worst life has to offer and spun us through on to the next stage of life.
Our children are wonderful examples of God's promises. They were taught the truth as children and as adults, they came back to the church and are faithful to their Lord and Saviour. Now, what do I have to be depressed about? That is why I am convinced it is a physical manifestation. But so many Christian err in their belief that depression is a spiritual disease. Now that physicians are finding more and more about how the brain functions, it appears that those pills I have to take serve a purpose. Although I do believe prayer can heal any part of our bodies, if it is to be it will happen.

Wally is my mainstain. I just worry that I'm going to wear him out. I love him so much...

Echoes of "My Fall"

In my last post, I referenced the "Season of my fall." This photo was taken three years ago and I had recently lost 130 lbs. I was horrified at how my neck looked, all "crepey," and I jokingly referred to my collar bones as new perches for my parrot, Spanky, to ride around on. Since I've been home and not working, my eating habits have gone down the rabbit hole, and I'm like Alice.

I haven't had a haircut since August '05 and my hair is hanging down to my shoulders. I don't know what the heck to do with it since I've worn it so short for so long. I manage to whack off some bangs now and again but I'm sitting here now, with it stringy and oily. Eew. I haven't kept up with my facial routine and I rarely wear makeup. That in itself is unimaginable. I am so vain I'd never even go to the grocery store without my face painted. Now, I go to my MD app'ts with oily hair tucked up in a ball cap, no makeup and nasty feet. That is a major factor of depression. I just don't care.

My legs and feet look old and I've always had "pretty" feet and always kept up my nails. My inner arms are all "crepy" and my neck and chest are showing sun damage, along with my face. All those years laying out in the sun have come back to haunt me. And I've gotten the moustache thing going on in a major way. I used to pluck, pluck, pluck and now I pretend those pesky little hairs are a figment of my imagination. Same with other places pesky little hairs tend to grow.

Why have I given up so completely? I've always been such a girly-girl when it came to bottles and pots and brushes and potions and lotions. I loved the fuchias and roses and mauves and tawnies, the blushes and polishes. Where did that desire go to be the best I could be? Did that desire get bagged up along with all the autumn leaves and thrown in the garbage?

My mom, at 75, always looked beautiful. She never stopped caring. Even though she had no one to be beautiful for. Was it self-esteem? Must be and I'm fresh outta that...I'll have to start watching the sales fliers to see if I can find some.

Echoes of Fall

Fall...The Fall ushered sin into this world; the season, fall decrees the death of all my tender annuals. Two unpleasant concepts. Here's yet another: I'm in the fall of my life. That's a scary thought! What's around the next bend? Winter. Oh joy. And I've always liked winter.

Fall is my least favorite season. I know, I know, people always go on and on about the beautiful fall colors. All it means is that the leaves are dying and are about to drop from the trees that have nutured them since they were little buds. The circle of life thing...and on and on it goes. I see the beauty in it but I also find it morbid and depressing. Phooey on fall! It's phoney but it's just like life. We put bodies in caskets with makeup on them, for Pete's sake, who ever Pete is. I guess we buy fake orange leaves as centerpieces for our tables to disguise the fact that fall equals death of the beauty of nature. The only good thing about it is that it brings relief from the stifling heat here in the valley.

Can you tell that I'm a spring person? The excitement of planting things and watering them and watching them grow and killing snails...now, that's real and dirty. I love the smell of fresh dirt and the feel of my hands in soil. I'm a nuturer, not a bagger of dead leaves.

Fall...the season of my life.

Echoes of "I Want Off..."

I know exactly how this turtle feels about life. If I've learned anything, it's DO NOT MAKE PLANS. They are destined to fall apart. Nothing is for certain. As my favorite tee-shirt says, "Life Sucks, Then You Die."

It's mid-October and I figured that, when we listed the house in July, we'd be settled some place by now. Ha! The joke's on me. The clock is ticking...the second month we've had to borrow our house payment. I realize that, without assistance, we'd be facing bankruptcy and worse. I thank God for the help we're receiving, but at the same time, I'm just deflated. I'm in limbo, Wally is getting depressed and here we sit, waiting for our future. Don't read the real estate section for potential homes...they've all been sold. Now, I find out that the park we hoped to move into has extremely strict rules on pets (one) and now I'm worried about where we'll wind up and our safety. I don't want to live in some methamphetamene heaven where we're scared to sleep at night.

Plans - don't make any. Be prepared for the worst and then some. Be the perpetual pessimist. The glass is half empty. Be assured that your loved ones will be torn from you too soon and that this life basically stinks. You can plan all you want but what happens when the neurons in your brain short-circuit and you can't work any longer??? Just ask me...I'll tell you all about the plans that never came to fruition.

Echoes of Anger and Forgiving...

Forgiving...I've always considered myself to be a very forgiving spirit. But anger is eating away at my core and I don't know how to make it stop. I feel such sorrow for what is lost and overwhelming anger because there is no reasoning with the one I have lost. Anger is a cancer - I know that. I have been taught all of my life to supress anger. Right...look at what that has gotten me. A propensity to eat my anger and a gut that heats up at a moment's notice. I feel as if I'm "composting" inside, all of the garbage in my life is turning into a toxic stew and eating away at me.

I've asked for forgiveness and feel as though it was totally one-sided because the other party did nothing wrong, in his eyes, except point out my shortcomings. I can't grovel and feel any self respect at all. I would love to receive a phone call just once, asking me how am I feeling...just once. But no, that's asking too much. I feel as if I've been totally discounted yet once again. I've lived my life in the shadows. Nothing I've ever done has been validated. Not my singing, my writing, my art...nothing. It's a one-way street and I've decided, for my own sake, to drive the other way. That means I've cut myself off from someone whom I love dearly but cannot accept me as I am.

Why does this have to be such a big "f-ing" deal? Other siblings have words, shake off, hug and kiss and that's the end of it. Why does this have to be the end of the relationship? Is this just an excuse to cut me out of his life? And to be truthful, why am I mourning so deeply, if this is how it's to be? The mask dropped for a moment and I saw truth.
to be cont....

Echoes of Anger and Angst...

Why does this issue haunt me? It's 1:00 AM and my mind is racing, as well as my heart. The knot is in my stomach and in my throat. Why do I rehash the words that were said and cannot be taken back or forgotten? Why do I analyze and re-analyze each nuance and sentence of every e-mail for a deeper meaning? Why do I feel so terribly fragile and abandoned by my brother? Why do I care so much?

I have so few blood relatives and he is my only sibling. I had been taught by my mother 's example to put him on a pedastal. He is "man" and I am "woman." And, yes, there is a difference. His standard joke is that NASA put Sally Ride on the space ship so she could clean the windows. And yes, I'm ashamed that I laughed.

During our fiasco, I called him a mysoginist out of deep-seated anger. I also called him a number of other things...pompous, arrogant - and a few other gems. I was told that I play the role of "victim," and blame my parents for everything that's gone sour in my life.

WORDS - they can be forgiven but never forgotten. The book of James says that the tongue is a two-edged sword and is harmful. It has destroyed the bond between a brother and sister; a brother and sister who used to be so close, we'd have marathon phone calls, discussing politics and world issues, the state of the world. I always sought his advice and looked forward to talking with him or seeing him. Now, that is gone. With the stroke of the keyboard, it is all gone.

His image of me is destroyed as is mine of him. We all have clay feet but apparently, as in our case, that can't be forgiven. Two months after our diatribe, I sent another e-mail telling him that our parents would be very upset at the state we were in. This was at the anniversary of our mother's death and I felt so badly. I was informed that he had nothing to apologize about. His conscience was clear.

to be cont....

Echoes from the Garden...

My best thoughts often come to me when I'm in the garden, pulling weeds and smashing snails. Unfortunately, I didn't have pen and paper in hand so most of these thoughts went the way of the dandelion and scattered in the breeze, never to return to my consciousness.

I do remember thinking of the weird dreams I'd been having recently of Brian...in one of them I dreamed he was calling to me for help and in another, he was on my roof shooting a gun at nothing in particular. I had him on my mind a lot in the past few days, and lo and behold, he called me. It is so strange how many times this has happened to me over the years. I hadn't heard from him since he left the "message" on the answering machine on my birthday in June and hadn't seen him in almost a year. He and Cindy came by to pick up a resume I prepared for him. He, too, suffers from depression and Doug's death has affected him deeply. Unfortunately, he also suffers from a case of "bad attitude" and anti-social behaviors. It's such a shame because he has such a great heart and is capable of so much.

Separations - brother and sister. This is such a strange relationship. Kids fight like cats and dogs but when grown can transform into such a tight bond. Now there is separation in two generations. Two tightly woven bonds have snapped and the resulting backlash has deeply wounded four people, plus the people swept up into the tide, those that love them. I hope and pray for healing.

I was covered with mud and snail slime, and thought how it is that, when we need them the most, our parents are no longer available to us. How I would love to be able to sit down with my dad and ask him what to do with this craziness with KR. What would his advice be? How would he handle it? I know it would grieve him deeply if he knew that his two offspring were in such a state. He and his brother were estranged but I don't know what caused it. I remember seeing his brother coming out of the mortuary after viewing my dad's earthly remains, wiping his eyes, seeming truly broken. He didn't know I could see him, but it helped me to know that he was feeling the loss of his brother, that he loved him. It's a shame that I don't remember them ever interacting as brothers should...

I have missed my dad every moment since his death in March of 1969 - that's 37 years I've spent wondering what if he'd lived...how would KR have turned out? I wonder....He claims to be so much like our dad yet there are certain areas in which he could never measure up. My dad never mocked or ridiculed women and he relished being in the company of our mother and we all knew how much he loved her. I have wonderful memories of walking in on them in the kitchen, wrapped tightly in an embrace, and seeing me, they just smiled. What a way to grow up! Knowing your parents were in love...what a gift~They were like that. They weren't "huggy-kissy" with us kids but I always felt secure seeing how much they loved each other.

I wish I could bring back the philosophical words of wisdom I had while in the garden but this will have to suffice.

Echoes of the Full Moon...

Friday morning, 12:32...the moon is full tonight. I just finished reading "The Mermaid Chair," by Sue Monk Kidd. It's full of mystery, full moons, mermaids, mythologies, self-destruction and resolution. I wish I could get into my head and pull out my emotions as well as Ms. Kidd does and so eloquently knit them together into a beautiful story that people could relate to and admire. But my feelings are so fragmented, frayed and elusive...I don't understand them myself.

Why does the moon press upon me at times, oppressing me and depressing me, and at other times, smile down upon me as a benevolent friend? Tonight, it is a beautiful, clear, beatific moon but I take no pleasure in it.

On the beach in Honolulu, watching the moon laughing down at the water and rippling out on it's waves, crossing the shoreline to my heart as I leaned against a palm tree, listening to soft Hawaiian music, as tears softly slid down my cheeks, I knew that that time and space would be forever within me. It was a pleasure that was unexplainable but wrapped itself within my very being and would remain in my memory until it ceases to be.

When I go into the place I try so hard to avoid, I often go back in time to that space in time and again find myself there, with the moon reaching inside me and it makes the dark place lighter.

Echoes of Childhood

After wasting too many years, years spent thinking she didn't care about me, and she thinking the same of me, a very wise, kindly woman gave me the words and the need to reconnect with a very special woman, my soulmate. If she was an Indian, her name would be, "She Who Understands and Listens."

This photo reminds me of us as children before the storms descended upon us. We used to visit our grandmother and grandfather, who played such a vital role in both of our lives. Times were so carefree then. Dine would keep Ginger ale in the refrigerator and always had "grandma" goodies on hand for us in the kitchen and Lincoln logs and Tinker toys in our grandfather's den. It was a place that was safe and we were always nutured.

And then the storms began for my cousin when her mother died. It was the second time death had crossed my path, the first being our great-grandmother. The adults didn't tell me a lot, just that her mom had a bad illness called leukemia. I was scared that my mom would died, too.

Her storms began earlier and were more severe than mine but she has weathered them with her sense of humor intact and a deep sense of caring for others who hurt. She has so much empathy - as only those who have been hurt can possess.

We are alike in so many ways , and yet she's a clean-freak and I'm a total slob; she's like a terrier and will hang on to a problem until she gets to the bottom of it, whereas I'm a Basset Hound. I shrug and say, "No big deal..." and let it go. She's the Energizer Bunny, whereas I'm a couch potato. She gets up at 4:00 AM and I go to bed at 2:00 AM. She loves the mountains, and although I do too, I would rather live in Hawai'i.

But the things that count, the "heart" things, she's the first one at my side. She will offer me her last dime and not expect anything in return. She listens to my every silly or serious rant and never judges me. I love her so much...