I'm tired. Tired of being sick. I've had this cold for two weeks now, and it's a miserable one. Has turned into a sinus/ear infection now, my eyes and nose won't stop running (check Kuwait...they might have run to there by now), and I've a nasty cough. I've also been dealing with inept doctors, and some new symptoms to this damnable auto-immune thing, and have yet another 'new' diagnosis to add to all the others. I'm just damn tired.
How can a body produce so much snot? Seriously? My goddess!!! It's just obscene. I know I've produced my body weight, and then some...in snot. Blech!!!
So...I have to take cholesterol medicine...Lipitor. Whines some more. For the rest of my life. And...I have to change my eating habits...again. I've gotten lax this last year or two. Back to lower fat/cholesterol intakes...again.
And...I have to use an inhaler...Advere? Whines some more. For the rest of my life. And...I've a quit smoking date...January 15th...again.
I've gained back about 10-15 lbs of all that weight I lost. Whines some more. I need to start exercising...again. When I can breathe...again.
It's difficult to maintain those kinds of lifestyle changes, though I was faithful for a good number of years. This has been scary enough...these breathing issues...that I believe I'll stick to it all...for the rest of my life. Blech!!!
I suppose this is where my program comes in handy...*winks @ Suni*...one day at a time.
Whine over.
There's a man...let's call him "Ill"...chuckles. He reads these blogs so as to know you all...to see our interactions with one another, too. He's a nice man. You kids would like him.
Love you all...yer Mutha...
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
OK...just a mishmash update...
Chrissie had to give away one of her cats because the cat started peeing on everything. Soaked the carpet in her room...through to the wood floor below. It was nasty when we pulled up the carpet. Got rid of the smell though...this GREAT product that Aunt Niecey told us about worked REALLY well. No smell at all.
Her Mandark has been sick since August/September...fatty liver disease. Allegedly, this is completely reversible, but requires a diligent approach to feeding/watering in order for DarkDude to get his strength back. Chrissie increased his food recently, which has given him some much needed (and good to see) energy. He's moving around...leaving her room/bed for parts of the house he'd not explored in months. Grounds for celebration, as I really wasn't sure he was going to be alright.
However, a new development has him with no control over his bowels...or something like that. Where ever he sits, he leaves poo...lots of it...too much of it. Bathroom, Dining Room, Chrissie's bed. I'm grossed out. Because I'm home all day, I get to deal with this...well...not cleaning it up really, but whoomp...there it is. So, I put up the gate to keep him in her room. I don't mean to make her feel badly, and am totally stoked that he's moving around again, but kitty poo all over the house is just gross. I just can't deal with that.
On another note...I'm quilting again. I made some Xmas presents...can't say what because I mailed some to Suni, and Bumbies, but making them got me back into that again. Chuckles...dining room table is covered in material, sewing machine, and paraphernalia. I make good messes. Though I really enjoy having Chrissie here, I'll be glad to confine such messes to that extra room when she leaves this summer. Easier to spread out more, too.
Girls are good. Lu is having some difficulty getting up and down the steps to go outside now. Winter is hard for her. I give her a baby aspirin every day, which seems to help some. Missy is her same self...ornery, mischevious lil monkey. I'll be the crazy dog lady...plans to get another next summer.
I start a round of tests today. These breathing issues are worrisome, and docs are trying to figure out why...what...and course of treatment. Scary stuff when breathing is impaired in any way. Allergies...yup...part of it...nasal passages nearly completely closed, but allergy meds keep that in check well enough to ease that aspect. CT scan of lungs is clear in terms of nasty, really scary stuff. Breathing test with respiratory therapist (today), and cardiologist appointment next week. I get to do my yearly booby smash next week, too. I think I'm allergic to Illinois...mhmm...I do.
Sooo...I've been cutting down on my caffeine intake. I'm down to 1/3 regular coffee, and 2/3 decaf. Couple more weeks, and I'll be totally decaf. I've a stop date for smoking, too. Yup...amazing what fear can motivate one to do. I knew I had to stop drinking coffee...that small coffee pot I've been using?...the little 4 cupper?...I was filling the basket...a little over 2 cups of freshly ground coffee beans. Waaaaaaay too much caffeine. Coffee's a smoking trigger for me, so I had to cut that out before I could stop smoking. Have a treadmill...exactly like the one I had in AZ...GrandPa John gave it to me...so, I'll walk on that, too. Well...I will when I can breathe again.
And, last, but certainly not least. I've been telling everyone about your NCO of the Year, T. They're ALL so proud of you, as I am. What an incredible thing you've accomplished! GrandPa John said, "Damn! That's GREAT!" Chuckles...a man of few words. He was thrilled. Uncles Mick, and Dennis, and Aunt Niecey were beside themselves...all puffed up...chuckles...you military types. My Canadian friends were so thrilled...Michael, and Angela...Michael's the retired Army fella...was filled with pride for you. Don't be surprised to hear from any of the above.
I'm curious about this NCO of the Year. Is this for your base? Then...will there be another one where you 'compete' against those from all the bases? How does that work? Michael indicated that there were levels of this, and that you would progress through them with all the others?
Well...I'm off to do some sewing this morning. Love you all. Leaving hugs, and cow kisses.
Yer Motha...
Her Mandark has been sick since August/September...fatty liver disease. Allegedly, this is completely reversible, but requires a diligent approach to feeding/watering in order for DarkDude to get his strength back. Chrissie increased his food recently, which has given him some much needed (and good to see) energy. He's moving around...leaving her room/bed for parts of the house he'd not explored in months. Grounds for celebration, as I really wasn't sure he was going to be alright.
However, a new development has him with no control over his bowels...or something like that. Where ever he sits, he leaves poo...lots of it...too much of it. Bathroom, Dining Room, Chrissie's bed. I'm grossed out. Because I'm home all day, I get to deal with this...well...not cleaning it up really, but whoomp...there it is. So, I put up the gate to keep him in her room. I don't mean to make her feel badly, and am totally stoked that he's moving around again, but kitty poo all over the house is just gross. I just can't deal with that.
On another note...I'm quilting again. I made some Xmas presents...can't say what because I mailed some to Suni, and Bumbies, but making them got me back into that again. Chuckles...dining room table is covered in material, sewing machine, and paraphernalia. I make good messes. Though I really enjoy having Chrissie here, I'll be glad to confine such messes to that extra room when she leaves this summer. Easier to spread out more, too.
Girls are good. Lu is having some difficulty getting up and down the steps to go outside now. Winter is hard for her. I give her a baby aspirin every day, which seems to help some. Missy is her same self...ornery, mischevious lil monkey. I'll be the crazy dog lady...plans to get another next summer.
I start a round of tests today. These breathing issues are worrisome, and docs are trying to figure out why...what...and course of treatment. Scary stuff when breathing is impaired in any way. Allergies...yup...part of it...nasal passages nearly completely closed, but allergy meds keep that in check well enough to ease that aspect. CT scan of lungs is clear in terms of nasty, really scary stuff. Breathing test with respiratory therapist (today), and cardiologist appointment next week. I get to do my yearly booby smash next week, too. I think I'm allergic to Illinois...mhmm...I do.
Sooo...I've been cutting down on my caffeine intake. I'm down to 1/3 regular coffee, and 2/3 decaf. Couple more weeks, and I'll be totally decaf. I've a stop date for smoking, too. Yup...amazing what fear can motivate one to do. I knew I had to stop drinking coffee...that small coffee pot I've been using?...the little 4 cupper?...I was filling the basket...a little over 2 cups of freshly ground coffee beans. Waaaaaaay too much caffeine. Coffee's a smoking trigger for me, so I had to cut that out before I could stop smoking. Have a treadmill...exactly like the one I had in AZ...GrandPa John gave it to me...so, I'll walk on that, too. Well...I will when I can breathe again.
And, last, but certainly not least. I've been telling everyone about your NCO of the Year, T. They're ALL so proud of you, as I am. What an incredible thing you've accomplished! GrandPa John said, "Damn! That's GREAT!" Chuckles...a man of few words. He was thrilled. Uncles Mick, and Dennis, and Aunt Niecey were beside themselves...all puffed up...chuckles...you military types. My Canadian friends were so thrilled...Michael, and Angela...Michael's the retired Army fella...was filled with pride for you. Don't be surprised to hear from any of the above.
I'm curious about this NCO of the Year. Is this for your base? Then...will there be another one where you 'compete' against those from all the bases? How does that work? Michael indicated that there were levels of this, and that you would progress through them with all the others?
Well...I'm off to do some sewing this morning. Love you all. Leaving hugs, and cow kisses.
Yer Motha...
Friday, December 12, 2008
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Chucklin'...
I finally put up my Christmas tree. It’s beautiful this year, though some would cringe in horror…well, some DO cringe in horror. I, on the other hand, absolutely love it. Tacky elegance at its finest.
Most of you know this, but...for those of you who don't...I collect pink flamingoes. Mhmm…pink flamingoes. They are in my yard (yup, the tacky plastic yard birds, among others), in my house, and on the dashboard of my car. Some of the pieces I have are very elegant, beautifully crafted pieces of…dare I say it?…art. Some of them are tacky and cheesy. Fun stuff. One of my favorite pieces is a brightly colored print of a leather clad biker flamingo astride a Harley Davidson motorcycle. She was a gift…most of them have been gifts. Another one is a beautiful, hand-blown Murano glass piece from Italy. She’s very delicate, and quite lovely.
I do a couple of things with my flamingoes, one of which is to decorate a white Christmas tree with them, pink feather boas, pink glass ball ornaments, and a multi-colored flamingo tree skirt. It’s awesome this year…just grins. I usually leave it up until the day before Easter.
My Mother is mortified. This is the first time she’s actually seen my flamingo tree. Secretly? I think she loves it…my flamingo fascination. She gives me flamingo ‘stuff’ all the time…like the wonderfully tacky side table with a flamingo/pussy willow/bamboo foundation, and a glass table top that she gave me for my BirthDay this year. She finds the most unusual pieces.
Anyway…I still have to dress up the yard flamingoes. I do that to them. Dress them up. For Halloween they were dressed in a purple and black witches outfit, a red, and silver fairy costume…complete with wings, an orange Cat in the Hat hat with matching tie, and neon orange wig, and…hmm…what else? Eh…can’t remember at the moment. They have been dressed in grass skirts, and Hawaiian leis for a luau, and at Christmas…yup…Santa Mingo, and the reinmingoes. This year will be the first year for that. I’m stoked!!! I found a smallish…just the right size…white wicker sleigh at a yardsale over the summer, and will finally…YAYYYY!!!…add that final piece to my Christmas scene. I’m thinking the flamingo perched in the tree (he lost his wire legs due to an unfortunate accident, so he’s wired into the crook of the crabapple tree in my front yard) will be dressed as an elf this year…or…something.
The first time I did this…hmmm…about 8 years ago…T (about 15 at the time) was…well…stunned. He came inside shaking his head, and simply said, “Now I know you’re on crack.” I wasn’t…am not. I think he wonders sometimes why I’m not like other mothers.
Really? I started this collection when I was in college…about 20 years ago, and it’s grown…boy has it grown. They make me smile. Dressing them up makes me laugh, and smile some more. The expressions on people’s faces when they see them? Priceless. My neighbors? Well…let’s just say that they adjust to my eccentricities. Like the ceramic white porcelain naked woman on my front steps…who…for some reason…had a rope noose around her neck for awhile. I think Meggie did that…not sure really.
I’m considering a toilet planter for the front yard this Spring. I’ve the perfect spot for it. Of course, I’ll have to find just the right flamingo to perch on the tank.
I live in a very old neighborhood. Kind of stuffy…upper-middle class. It’s the neighborhood/area where I grew up. Safe. Comfortable. Near the park…so the girls (aka my two dogs) and I take regular walks down by the duck pond…drives Missy NUTS because she wants to chase them. Anyway…it’s kind of fun tweaking the conservatives in the neighborhood, along with the fun of decorating my yard. The chuckles and grins elicited are the icing.
I think I’ll finish putting out my Xmas decorations today.
That’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it.
Most of you know this, but...for those of you who don't...I collect pink flamingoes. Mhmm…pink flamingoes. They are in my yard (yup, the tacky plastic yard birds, among others), in my house, and on the dashboard of my car. Some of the pieces I have are very elegant, beautifully crafted pieces of…dare I say it?…art. Some of them are tacky and cheesy. Fun stuff. One of my favorite pieces is a brightly colored print of a leather clad biker flamingo astride a Harley Davidson motorcycle. She was a gift…most of them have been gifts. Another one is a beautiful, hand-blown Murano glass piece from Italy. She’s very delicate, and quite lovely.
I do a couple of things with my flamingoes, one of which is to decorate a white Christmas tree with them, pink feather boas, pink glass ball ornaments, and a multi-colored flamingo tree skirt. It’s awesome this year…just grins. I usually leave it up until the day before Easter.
My Mother is mortified. This is the first time she’s actually seen my flamingo tree. Secretly? I think she loves it…my flamingo fascination. She gives me flamingo ‘stuff’ all the time…like the wonderfully tacky side table with a flamingo/pussy willow/bamboo foundation, and a glass table top that she gave me for my BirthDay this year. She finds the most unusual pieces.
Anyway…I still have to dress up the yard flamingoes. I do that to them. Dress them up. For Halloween they were dressed in a purple and black witches outfit, a red, and silver fairy costume…complete with wings, an orange Cat in the Hat hat with matching tie, and neon orange wig, and…hmm…what else? Eh…can’t remember at the moment. They have been dressed in grass skirts, and Hawaiian leis for a luau, and at Christmas…yup…Santa Mingo, and the reinmingoes. This year will be the first year for that. I’m stoked!!! I found a smallish…just the right size…white wicker sleigh at a yardsale over the summer, and will finally…YAYYYY!!!…add that final piece to my Christmas scene. I’m thinking the flamingo perched in the tree (he lost his wire legs due to an unfortunate accident, so he’s wired into the crook of the crabapple tree in my front yard) will be dressed as an elf this year…or…something.
The first time I did this…hmmm…about 8 years ago…T (about 15 at the time) was…well…stunned. He came inside shaking his head, and simply said, “Now I know you’re on crack.” I wasn’t…am not. I think he wonders sometimes why I’m not like other mothers.
Really? I started this collection when I was in college…about 20 years ago, and it’s grown…boy has it grown. They make me smile. Dressing them up makes me laugh, and smile some more. The expressions on people’s faces when they see them? Priceless. My neighbors? Well…let’s just say that they adjust to my eccentricities. Like the ceramic white porcelain naked woman on my front steps…who…for some reason…had a rope noose around her neck for awhile. I think Meggie did that…not sure really.
I’m considering a toilet planter for the front yard this Spring. I’ve the perfect spot for it. Of course, I’ll have to find just the right flamingo to perch on the tank.
I live in a very old neighborhood. Kind of stuffy…upper-middle class. It’s the neighborhood/area where I grew up. Safe. Comfortable. Near the park…so the girls (aka my two dogs) and I take regular walks down by the duck pond…drives Missy NUTS because she wants to chase them. Anyway…it’s kind of fun tweaking the conservatives in the neighborhood, along with the fun of decorating my yard. The chuckles and grins elicited are the icing.
I think I’ll finish putting out my Xmas decorations today.
That’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Well...
I've been thinking a lot about this...hmm...exchange we've been having...yet not having. I knew something that was going to hurt you. I didn't see it as detrimental in any other way except that it would hurt you. Why would I inflict such pain upon a loved one in the telling...particularly when you're so far away, and in the place in which you live right now? Parents protect their children...right or wrong in the child's eyes...parents protect their children in the best way they can...in whatever situation presents. I made the best decision as your mother at that time.
I knew your marriage was over. Yes, I asked Simone if she was involved with the man she spent a great deal of time chatting to on her computer...with his cam on her computer screen...her cam on, as well...chatting...interacting...all while I was there...visiting. Why else would I have any reason in the world to ask such a question? She's part of my life, too. You invited her into my life, T. That doesn't just end because you're divorced from her.
I also didn't think about how it would feel to know the answer, and feel as if I couldn't tell you. By the time I processed all of that, and decided I would tell you...that "I" would tell you before someone else did...a couple of months had passed...lots of reasons for that time lapse...not important now. Regardless, I knew that "I" would be the one to do that...not to have someone else say, "Well...your mom knew."
Then, you began to open up with me on a more emotional, open, honest level. I knew that I would have to reveal this even sooner because it felt too dishonest not to, particularly given this recent change in our relationship. It was a wall, and one I wouldn't have present...given all of this. I was elated that we were sharing in the way that we were. And I knew I would lose it when I told you, but I knew I had to reveal what I knew. Lose - lose. Once again.
I'm going on hiatus from this blog, T. I'll miss the interaction we were developing, but want you to feel free to do what you're doing here with others without feeling mistrustful of me, and my presence. I'll leave this up for a few days, but then I'm deleting my blog.
Enjoy the process, T...grow...find your strengths...learn to love without the angst...find your joy...live your life without allowing fear to guide your footsteps. Give a call when you have some free time, and do let me know as you receive your Xmas packages, please.
Love, Mom
I knew your marriage was over. Yes, I asked Simone if she was involved with the man she spent a great deal of time chatting to on her computer...with his cam on her computer screen...her cam on, as well...chatting...interacting...all while I was there...visiting. Why else would I have any reason in the world to ask such a question? She's part of my life, too. You invited her into my life, T. That doesn't just end because you're divorced from her.
I also didn't think about how it would feel to know the answer, and feel as if I couldn't tell you. By the time I processed all of that, and decided I would tell you...that "I" would tell you before someone else did...a couple of months had passed...lots of reasons for that time lapse...not important now. Regardless, I knew that "I" would be the one to do that...not to have someone else say, "Well...your mom knew."
Then, you began to open up with me on a more emotional, open, honest level. I knew that I would have to reveal this even sooner because it felt too dishonest not to, particularly given this recent change in our relationship. It was a wall, and one I wouldn't have present...given all of this. I was elated that we were sharing in the way that we were. And I knew I would lose it when I told you, but I knew I had to reveal what I knew. Lose - lose. Once again.
I'm going on hiatus from this blog, T. I'll miss the interaction we were developing, but want you to feel free to do what you're doing here with others without feeling mistrustful of me, and my presence. I'll leave this up for a few days, but then I'm deleting my blog.
Enjoy the process, T...grow...find your strengths...learn to love without the angst...find your joy...live your life without allowing fear to guide your footsteps. Give a call when you have some free time, and do let me know as you receive your Xmas packages, please.
Love, Mom
Monday, December 1, 2008
I'm remembering...
...snow walks this morning.
It's been snowing off and on since late Saturday night/early Sunday morning. It's a wet snow. There was an inch or two on the ground yesterday morning, but it melted to make mud puddles in the backyard by afternoon. It kept spitting that wet snow, and rain all day yesterday.
I woke up this morning to an inch or so on the ground again. It continues to snow...little wispy flurries that blow gently in the wind. Smaller flakes that the wind catches easily.
Do you remember our late night snow walks? Getting bundled up warmly to go for those late walks in the snow when it would give us a deep one?
You and Sunshine felt like you were doing something special...we were...you know...getting to stay up late for one...being outside at 10-11 at night for a walk...the quiet would always silence your exuberance for a moment as you both appreciated it for a magical moment...your playful abandon was filled with joy, and laughter. Laughs...snowballs flew...little rolls in the snow, but the laughter, and joy from the two of you always makes me smile when I remember such times. Oh...your antics were fun...funny...fond memories, but the laughter...the joy...the abandon to just being a child...were the things that warmed my heart.
We didn't have much money when you kids were younger, so I always sought those moments for you. But it was more than that really. I wanted to create cherished memories for you, and Suni...for me, and your Dad. Memories that we would all look back upon, and enjoy a laugh, or the warmth of those moments shared between us.
I have so few memories myself...from my childhood...fond, fun memories. It was one of the things, as a mother, that I wanted to create differently for you, and Sunshine. I enjoyed them, as much, or more than the two of you, but for far different reasons. I recognized the importance of having those memories...the warmth they would give in a richly lived life.
I also enjoyed...just watching the joyfulness of you, and Suni enjoying the moment. It was one of those rare opportunities for me to simply be...then, and there...to smile...laugh...and feel that my life was complete...in that one moment. To put the ugliness aside. No fear. No pain. No sadness, or grief. Just love, peace, joy, and contentment. I have few enough of those moments, as well. I found many...most of them with you kids...with the GrandBabies.
But...happy memories are important because we have a tendency to block, forget those moments when there are difficulties present in life. I'm grateful this morning that I have that memory to fill my heart.
It's been snowing off and on since late Saturday night/early Sunday morning. It's a wet snow. There was an inch or two on the ground yesterday morning, but it melted to make mud puddles in the backyard by afternoon. It kept spitting that wet snow, and rain all day yesterday.
I woke up this morning to an inch or so on the ground again. It continues to snow...little wispy flurries that blow gently in the wind. Smaller flakes that the wind catches easily.
Do you remember our late night snow walks? Getting bundled up warmly to go for those late walks in the snow when it would give us a deep one?
You and Sunshine felt like you were doing something special...we were...you know...getting to stay up late for one...being outside at 10-11 at night for a walk...the quiet would always silence your exuberance for a moment as you both appreciated it for a magical moment...your playful abandon was filled with joy, and laughter. Laughs...snowballs flew...little rolls in the snow, but the laughter, and joy from the two of you always makes me smile when I remember such times. Oh...your antics were fun...funny...fond memories, but the laughter...the joy...the abandon to just being a child...were the things that warmed my heart.
We didn't have much money when you kids were younger, so I always sought those moments for you. But it was more than that really. I wanted to create cherished memories for you, and Suni...for me, and your Dad. Memories that we would all look back upon, and enjoy a laugh, or the warmth of those moments shared between us.
I have so few memories myself...from my childhood...fond, fun memories. It was one of the things, as a mother, that I wanted to create differently for you, and Sunshine. I enjoyed them, as much, or more than the two of you, but for far different reasons. I recognized the importance of having those memories...the warmth they would give in a richly lived life.
I also enjoyed...just watching the joyfulness of you, and Suni enjoying the moment. It was one of those rare opportunities for me to simply be...then, and there...to smile...laugh...and feel that my life was complete...in that one moment. To put the ugliness aside. No fear. No pain. No sadness, or grief. Just love, peace, joy, and contentment. I have few enough of those moments, as well. I found many...most of them with you kids...with the GrandBabies.
But...happy memories are important because we have a tendency to block, forget those moments when there are difficulties present in life. I'm grateful this morning that I have that memory to fill my heart.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Searching...
Openness about Mark? I told you and Sunshine about him because I never wanted him to be a secret within our family. I had read stories about reunions taking place where siblings, spouses, etc...never knew about the existance of the child. I didn't want you kids 'surprised' by that (a reunion) should it ever happen. I didn't want you, or Sunshine to feel that I'd lied to you about something so important in my life.
When I was young, I never thought I would look for him...didn't feel I had the right to do that. After all, I'd given those rights away. About a year, year and a half before I actually found him...just before his 21st BirthDay...something about that changed for me. I'm uncertain why...what that was, but I thought "fuck it"...he's my son...I want to know him if he's open to that possibility. Right or wrong...I wanted to find him.
I looked for a year+ on my own, but could never find him. I kept coming up against that "closed adoption" heading, and it wasn't gonna be broken by me. So, I hired a man...John Apel. I think that's how it was spelled. Fella from Chicago...retired cop...adoptee himself who had searched for, and found his birth family. Of all places...I found his name, and contact information in the back of a book about searching for adoptees/birth families. He had the resources at his disposal to find Mark.
I don't know if I ever told you this or not, but John found two boys with the same BirthDay, born at the same hospital, and with amended Birth Certificates...apparently that last is a 'clue' to adoption processes...name changes. I wrote letters to them both, and talked with the other boy after I'd already talked with Mark...after I already knew Mark was my son. That was an interesting phone conversation that I'll have to tell you about sometime.
I'd not told my family I was looking for him...just you, Suni, and your dad. I didn't tell Grandma, Grandpa John, or the sibs until after I'd found him, talked to him, and he wanted to meet everyone. I didn't feel a need for secrecy in what I was doing...the search...I simply didn't want to hear their condemnation for doing so. They would have discouraged me, and I didn't want to deal with that.
It's funny...that veil of secrecy I carried for so long was gone. Just gone. I could openly talk about my other son, acknowledge him, our experience, talk about our family integration, and the impact on us all. I can't tell you how freeing that was...the relief...how very much changed for me then...my entire internal emotional landscape did a 180. And...seeing him for the first time...the joy...the heartache...the overwhelming desire to enfold him in my heart, and life, and never let him go. I couldn't look at him enough...I was hungry...emotionally...to know everything about him...just to look at him.
See...that doesn't lessen what I feel for you, and Sunshine, T. I have experienced the immense joy of holding you in my arms, rocking you to sleep, of loving you, and watching you grow into a man. I had a lifetime to know about Mark. Pieces of memories I have of you, and Sunshine...cherished moments. I can never have those of Mark. I don't want to diminish in any way what he and I have now...it's good...it's solid...but it's very different than what I have with you and your sister. You're all mine, but he'll never be 'mine' like you and Suni. There will always be a wall between us.
How does a child...grown to a man...even knowing, intellectually, the story of his birth/relinquishment...his abandonment by his mother...how does he justify that in his emotional self? I believe...know...there is a core self that defines us as emotional beings...that defines our character...guides our actions...reactions...that all of who we are stems from that core self. When there is a sense of abandonment, or some type of emotional trauma, how is that rectified? How is it healed when there is such a raw wound?
Undoubtedly...there is a connection between a mother and child that is developed as we...women...carry our babies within our own selves...our bodies nurturing them to life. You each lay next to my heart for 9 months of your lives...our hearts beating together...our blood co-mingling...my breaths sustaining your life...my life...yours. Two beings in one body, T. Never are two people that close in life as a mother carrying a child. To grow up knowing...as Mark did...that his mother gave him to someone else? Those scars will always be between us. That's just reality...not 'oh woe is me' crap. I've studied the psychological perspectives dealing with adoption, and all involved in that process. It fucks people up...big time...in lots of ways...unimaginable ways. So, there are parts of Mark I'll never access. Not like I can with you. Those walls we develop. He and I will always have a big one that won't be assailable.
I'm happy with him in my life. Content? I accept that it is what it is. The past can't be changed. There is a little bit of light in that dark void that was created from his loss, but my life was irrevocably changed...as was his...as was yours and Sunshine's...the day he was born...the day I signed the adoption papers.
I've never told you about that experience. I sat across the desk from the social worker at Catholic Social Services...remember her telling me I was doing the best thing for my son...that his new family would love him...give him all the things I never could. I stood in the corner, and watched myself sign those papers.
Many years ago, I believed that dissociative experience to be an 'out of body' experience. I know it for what it is now...an emotional trauma so severe that my emotional self literally separated...dissociated from the experience so as not to further damage myself. Am I dissociative now? No. It was situational...a means of self protecting self from the severity of the trauma. Through the work I've done with Nanette, I have a better understanding of that from a psychological perspective now. I also understand that the damage from that can't be fixed...changed. I know that the grief involved in his loss will always be part of who I am...that I'll only just touch that...never embrace it for resolution...it can't be resolved.
I am, at the heart of my life, and inner 'me'...a mother. Your mother...Suni's...and Mark's. What that means to each of you is different. What it means to me about each of you...is the same, yet has elements of otherness that changes the dynamic of individual relationships with each of you. And that...is the only way I know to explain it to you.
This time of year approaches Mark's BirthDay. There used to be great sadness, and pain for me around this time of year. Now? There's a bittersweetness to it.
Odd...this feels like a risk to me...posting this to you. I'll do it...chuckles...I suppose I'm letting some walls down. I feel exposed in some ways, and wonder...how much is too much for you to know about me, T? Will you tell me...if it is? Some fear involved in this...yes.
Sleep sweet, love...yer Motha
When I was young, I never thought I would look for him...didn't feel I had the right to do that. After all, I'd given those rights away. About a year, year and a half before I actually found him...just before his 21st BirthDay...something about that changed for me. I'm uncertain why...what that was, but I thought "fuck it"...he's my son...I want to know him if he's open to that possibility. Right or wrong...I wanted to find him.
I looked for a year+ on my own, but could never find him. I kept coming up against that "closed adoption" heading, and it wasn't gonna be broken by me. So, I hired a man...John Apel. I think that's how it was spelled. Fella from Chicago...retired cop...adoptee himself who had searched for, and found his birth family. Of all places...I found his name, and contact information in the back of a book about searching for adoptees/birth families. He had the resources at his disposal to find Mark.
I don't know if I ever told you this or not, but John found two boys with the same BirthDay, born at the same hospital, and with amended Birth Certificates...apparently that last is a 'clue' to adoption processes...name changes. I wrote letters to them both, and talked with the other boy after I'd already talked with Mark...after I already knew Mark was my son. That was an interesting phone conversation that I'll have to tell you about sometime.
I'd not told my family I was looking for him...just you, Suni, and your dad. I didn't tell Grandma, Grandpa John, or the sibs until after I'd found him, talked to him, and he wanted to meet everyone. I didn't feel a need for secrecy in what I was doing...the search...I simply didn't want to hear their condemnation for doing so. They would have discouraged me, and I didn't want to deal with that.
It's funny...that veil of secrecy I carried for so long was gone. Just gone. I could openly talk about my other son, acknowledge him, our experience, talk about our family integration, and the impact on us all. I can't tell you how freeing that was...the relief...how very much changed for me then...my entire internal emotional landscape did a 180. And...seeing him for the first time...the joy...the heartache...the overwhelming desire to enfold him in my heart, and life, and never let him go. I couldn't look at him enough...I was hungry...emotionally...to know everything about him...just to look at him.
See...that doesn't lessen what I feel for you, and Sunshine, T. I have experienced the immense joy of holding you in my arms, rocking you to sleep, of loving you, and watching you grow into a man. I had a lifetime to know about Mark. Pieces of memories I have of you, and Sunshine...cherished moments. I can never have those of Mark. I don't want to diminish in any way what he and I have now...it's good...it's solid...but it's very different than what I have with you and your sister. You're all mine, but he'll never be 'mine' like you and Suni. There will always be a wall between us.
How does a child...grown to a man...even knowing, intellectually, the story of his birth/relinquishment...his abandonment by his mother...how does he justify that in his emotional self? I believe...know...there is a core self that defines us as emotional beings...that defines our character...guides our actions...reactions...that all of who we are stems from that core self. When there is a sense of abandonment, or some type of emotional trauma, how is that rectified? How is it healed when there is such a raw wound?
Undoubtedly...there is a connection between a mother and child that is developed as we...women...carry our babies within our own selves...our bodies nurturing them to life. You each lay next to my heart for 9 months of your lives...our hearts beating together...our blood co-mingling...my breaths sustaining your life...my life...yours. Two beings in one body, T. Never are two people that close in life as a mother carrying a child. To grow up knowing...as Mark did...that his mother gave him to someone else? Those scars will always be between us. That's just reality...not 'oh woe is me' crap. I've studied the psychological perspectives dealing with adoption, and all involved in that process. It fucks people up...big time...in lots of ways...unimaginable ways. So, there are parts of Mark I'll never access. Not like I can with you. Those walls we develop. He and I will always have a big one that won't be assailable.
I'm happy with him in my life. Content? I accept that it is what it is. The past can't be changed. There is a little bit of light in that dark void that was created from his loss, but my life was irrevocably changed...as was his...as was yours and Sunshine's...the day he was born...the day I signed the adoption papers.
I've never told you about that experience. I sat across the desk from the social worker at Catholic Social Services...remember her telling me I was doing the best thing for my son...that his new family would love him...give him all the things I never could. I stood in the corner, and watched myself sign those papers.
Many years ago, I believed that dissociative experience to be an 'out of body' experience. I know it for what it is now...an emotional trauma so severe that my emotional self literally separated...dissociated from the experience so as not to further damage myself. Am I dissociative now? No. It was situational...a means of self protecting self from the severity of the trauma. Through the work I've done with Nanette, I have a better understanding of that from a psychological perspective now. I also understand that the damage from that can't be fixed...changed. I know that the grief involved in his loss will always be part of who I am...that I'll only just touch that...never embrace it for resolution...it can't be resolved.
I am, at the heart of my life, and inner 'me'...a mother. Your mother...Suni's...and Mark's. What that means to each of you is different. What it means to me about each of you...is the same, yet has elements of otherness that changes the dynamic of individual relationships with each of you. And that...is the only way I know to explain it to you.
This time of year approaches Mark's BirthDay. There used to be great sadness, and pain for me around this time of year. Now? There's a bittersweetness to it.
Odd...this feels like a risk to me...posting this to you. I'll do it...chuckles...I suppose I'm letting some walls down. I feel exposed in some ways, and wonder...how much is too much for you to know about me, T? Will you tell me...if it is? Some fear involved in this...yes.
Sleep sweet, love...yer Motha
Silences...
This reply to your post became rather long, so I decided to just do this. Laughs...I imagine that might happen often with us?
Yes, it's (the poem entitled Silent Demands) about Mark. It was written around the time I found him, met him, talked to him for the first time.
It was a strange time for us all, wasn't it? I'd like to know what you remember...how you felt...what that experience was like for you. Will you tell me now?
I remember you saying to me, "You know, Mom...he's not legally your son." You emphasized the "legal" part...somehow that was important in your mind. You were so young...13 years ago now...so not quite 10 yet. I remember thinking...ahhh...he's frightened that Mark will usurp his place in my life. I spent a lot of time reassuring you...in any way that I could...that that wouldn't happen. I even talked to Mark about it then. He wanted very much to just be part of...not take the place of anyone.
He feels such a kinship with you...different than with Suni. I think...because you're both male? There's a different connection there for the two of you...plus the time you spent hunting with him...staying with him without the rest of us around. You got to develop a different relationship with him than what Suni has. Siblings, but not siblings.
How odd is that for you? I never hid the fact that I had a child before you, and Suni were born. Chucklin'...as a matter of fact, you used to put me in rather awkward positions telling other people that you had a brother, but he didn't live with us. I was then left to explain...something...about that. There weren't many people I talked about Mark to. Such a wall of silence around being a BirthMom...yanno? It involves so many levels of who we are...as women, as mothers, as daughters, as friends, lovers...the sifnificance of that loss is a profound one, T.
Well-meaning people will say, "Yeah, but you found him...he's in your life now." The 'now'...can never...will never...fill the void of the loss of 'then'...of holding him in my arms, rocking him to sleep, watching him grow, and become a man. Lost forever to me...and to him. That kind of statement is really a very thoughtless comment. How can they know?
I've even had people say to me, "Well...what kind of life could you have given him at such a young age?"...and references to my younger years when I was using drugs, and drinking. I drank/drugged to drown...to dull...the pain of losses...of that loss (among others)...of the grief in which I was left to flounder. I didn't know how to express it...wasn't 'allowed' to talk about him...of that loss...so I didn't. Instead? I drugged/drank myself into oblivion...so could forget for a moment.
I held my grief very close. I held the sadness deep within. I held the overwhelming pain I felt at his loss...deeply...buried...though it would seep out from time to time. I held him only in my dreams, and in the one memory I have of holding him while I was still in the hospital.
I lost a very large piece of me when I lost him.
Do you know...I think I've told you this...but I believe you'll understand it better now, T. I know your experience with S, and Ro was different than mine...that you weren't/aren't me...and Mark. But my experience in this is largely why I fought as hard as I did for you...for your rights as Ro's father...to establish those rights in such a way that they could never be taken away from you. My rights were taken away from me...I wasn't given choices...or allowed a say in something so significantly life-altering. I wouldn't have that for you...ever. I don't think you understood that...not then, but maybe now?
Anyway...off for the day. Love you Babes. Yer Motha
Yes, it's (the poem entitled Silent Demands) about Mark. It was written around the time I found him, met him, talked to him for the first time.
It was a strange time for us all, wasn't it? I'd like to know what you remember...how you felt...what that experience was like for you. Will you tell me now?
I remember you saying to me, "You know, Mom...he's not legally your son." You emphasized the "legal" part...somehow that was important in your mind. You were so young...13 years ago now...so not quite 10 yet. I remember thinking...ahhh...he's frightened that Mark will usurp his place in my life. I spent a lot of time reassuring you...in any way that I could...that that wouldn't happen. I even talked to Mark about it then. He wanted very much to just be part of...not take the place of anyone.
He feels such a kinship with you...different than with Suni. I think...because you're both male? There's a different connection there for the two of you...plus the time you spent hunting with him...staying with him without the rest of us around. You got to develop a different relationship with him than what Suni has. Siblings, but not siblings.
How odd is that for you? I never hid the fact that I had a child before you, and Suni were born. Chucklin'...as a matter of fact, you used to put me in rather awkward positions telling other people that you had a brother, but he didn't live with us. I was then left to explain...something...about that. There weren't many people I talked about Mark to. Such a wall of silence around being a BirthMom...yanno? It involves so many levels of who we are...as women, as mothers, as daughters, as friends, lovers...the sifnificance of that loss is a profound one, T.
Well-meaning people will say, "Yeah, but you found him...he's in your life now." The 'now'...can never...will never...fill the void of the loss of 'then'...of holding him in my arms, rocking him to sleep, watching him grow, and become a man. Lost forever to me...and to him. That kind of statement is really a very thoughtless comment. How can they know?
I've even had people say to me, "Well...what kind of life could you have given him at such a young age?"...and references to my younger years when I was using drugs, and drinking. I drank/drugged to drown...to dull...the pain of losses...of that loss (among others)...of the grief in which I was left to flounder. I didn't know how to express it...wasn't 'allowed' to talk about him...of that loss...so I didn't. Instead? I drugged/drank myself into oblivion...so could forget for a moment.
I held my grief very close. I held the sadness deep within. I held the overwhelming pain I felt at his loss...deeply...buried...though it would seep out from time to time. I held him only in my dreams, and in the one memory I have of holding him while I was still in the hospital.
I lost a very large piece of me when I lost him.
Do you know...I think I've told you this...but I believe you'll understand it better now, T. I know your experience with S, and Ro was different than mine...that you weren't/aren't me...and Mark. But my experience in this is largely why I fought as hard as I did for you...for your rights as Ro's father...to establish those rights in such a way that they could never be taken away from you. My rights were taken away from me...I wasn't given choices...or allowed a say in something so significantly life-altering. I wouldn't have that for you...ever. I don't think you understood that...not then, but maybe now?
Anyway...off for the day. Love you Babes. Yer Motha
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Belly button gazing...
I believe we have a purpose. That purpose is to be aware, to develop a relationship with a higher power, and...that, through that relationship, we find the strength to be the best people we can become...to understand...to love...to find balance, and peace in life. A spiritual center is where my strength comes from, T. Not religious...I don't do religion. My spiritual grounding comes from outdoors...from you...Sunshine...Mark...the GrandBabies...life. It doesn't come from a dogma that says I have to believe 'this', or 'that', but from a peacefulness found in a walk in the woods...touching the leaves, and trees, smelling pines, and maples...digging in the soil, arms buried elbow deep, and the joy of smelling rich soil that will let me grow things...your eyes...Sunshine's rich laughter...Mark's soft rumble...the joy of the Grands as extensions of love...life. And music...the joy I find in listening to music...well crafted lyrics (or poems)...dancing is an expression of that joy, as well as a more basic sensual pursuit. And more...so much more. There are no limitations to my spiritual self. No limits of gender, differences, beliefs, or values. It's simply the peace I find within that sustains my life in such a way that I can live, and not merely survive a day.
I don't have very traditional beliefs about too many things...as you well know. So, I even work my program a bit differently than most. I've created a life for myself that allows me to live...rather than simply survive any given day. Some of that ties into the traumas I've experienced, and finding ways to live with them. They never go away...the ones I've experienced aren't blocked from my memory as a means of protection...so learning to live with them so I don't drown in them has become an important part of my life. I started that process in 'working' the 12 Steps. Acknowledging, being aware of my own behaviors...where they come from...who they affect...and changing where I can.
Nanette was a huge help in that for me...the therapist I saw in Sedona. She specialized in working with people who have PTSD. I have...severe-complex PTSD because of the number of traumas experienced, the severity of them, and the fact that some have been lifelong...will continue to be lifelong.
There are two traumas in my life that will never 'heal'...how can they? One involves Mark, and the other...my brother Tommy. Yet, they have had a profound affect in my life...in your life...in Sunshine's life...your Dad's...and others I've been involved with over the years. All I can do with that understanding now is to stay aware of my own dynamics, and work with the behaviors that have become so much a part of who I am. The people in my life have to be open to that process with me...to understanding...and forgiveness. Temper them...soften them. Ultimately? I am perfect in my imperfections...and there are many (imperfections), but there are also many, many more 'perfections' within that feed good stuff, as opposed to the bad stuff.
I don't believe we can change all 'negative' behaviors. Some, we can only temper...soften the edges...as they're too ingrained...too much a part of our personalities...the 'us' that makes us 'us'. However, being aware of what they are, how they manifest in life...makes them a tad more manageable. I don't justify bad behavior by any of this...ever. That's not what I mean by any of that.
This is the kind of thing that began for me in 12 Step programs, T. However, I needed more to go deeper than that...and needed help to go there. Nanette. You know...she saved my life. I believe that...know that. There were a lot of things that happened in our lives all at once...yes, in your life, too. That time period was a huge turning point for me...very significant. There have been a couple such times in my life...finding Mark was one of those. Profound. Significant. Life-altering. Gut level. Core things that define.
So...to know that you're exploring internal reflections? Particularly now...given where you are, and some of what you may be seeing...doing? I know how 'trauma' has affected me...my life...the lives of those I love. I despair that you will walk away from 'this' experience so affected...because I know what it has done in 'my' life. But...that you are choosing to reflect...to see things differently? I find some hope that you will find better balance as a result.
What's the biggest issue I deal with in this regard? Walls. Letting people through...over...around those walls. It all comes back to fear. Stepping through those fears...and there are many. Fear of loss...that's a particularly big one, T. One that can paralyze me. And I don't want anyone to walk on eggshells, either. I'm not going to implode...or...whatever. I'm not going to break as a result of living life. I also won't hide who I am any longer, nor will I deny the existance of difficulties I experience, and why. Hiding behind those facades I created to protect myself was one way I kept distant from those I love. I'm not willing to do that any longer.
Anyway...so much for that this morning. It's Thanksgiving, and I have some stuff to make to take to GrandMa's today. I'm thinking about you...loving you...and the opportunity you gifted me in this sharing with you. I will carry you in my heart...always.
Yer Motha...
I don't have very traditional beliefs about too many things...as you well know. So, I even work my program a bit differently than most. I've created a life for myself that allows me to live...rather than simply survive any given day. Some of that ties into the traumas I've experienced, and finding ways to live with them. They never go away...the ones I've experienced aren't blocked from my memory as a means of protection...so learning to live with them so I don't drown in them has become an important part of my life. I started that process in 'working' the 12 Steps. Acknowledging, being aware of my own behaviors...where they come from...who they affect...and changing where I can.
Nanette was a huge help in that for me...the therapist I saw in Sedona. She specialized in working with people who have PTSD. I have...severe-complex PTSD because of the number of traumas experienced, the severity of them, and the fact that some have been lifelong...will continue to be lifelong.
There are two traumas in my life that will never 'heal'...how can they? One involves Mark, and the other...my brother Tommy. Yet, they have had a profound affect in my life...in your life...in Sunshine's life...your Dad's...and others I've been involved with over the years. All I can do with that understanding now is to stay aware of my own dynamics, and work with the behaviors that have become so much a part of who I am. The people in my life have to be open to that process with me...to understanding...and forgiveness. Temper them...soften them. Ultimately? I am perfect in my imperfections...and there are many (imperfections), but there are also many, many more 'perfections' within that feed good stuff, as opposed to the bad stuff.
I don't believe we can change all 'negative' behaviors. Some, we can only temper...soften the edges...as they're too ingrained...too much a part of our personalities...the 'us' that makes us 'us'. However, being aware of what they are, how they manifest in life...makes them a tad more manageable. I don't justify bad behavior by any of this...ever. That's not what I mean by any of that.
This is the kind of thing that began for me in 12 Step programs, T. However, I needed more to go deeper than that...and needed help to go there. Nanette. You know...she saved my life. I believe that...know that. There were a lot of things that happened in our lives all at once...yes, in your life, too. That time period was a huge turning point for me...very significant. There have been a couple such times in my life...finding Mark was one of those. Profound. Significant. Life-altering. Gut level. Core things that define.
So...to know that you're exploring internal reflections? Particularly now...given where you are, and some of what you may be seeing...doing? I know how 'trauma' has affected me...my life...the lives of those I love. I despair that you will walk away from 'this' experience so affected...because I know what it has done in 'my' life. But...that you are choosing to reflect...to see things differently? I find some hope that you will find better balance as a result.
What's the biggest issue I deal with in this regard? Walls. Letting people through...over...around those walls. It all comes back to fear. Stepping through those fears...and there are many. Fear of loss...that's a particularly big one, T. One that can paralyze me. And I don't want anyone to walk on eggshells, either. I'm not going to implode...or...whatever. I'm not going to break as a result of living life. I also won't hide who I am any longer, nor will I deny the existance of difficulties I experience, and why. Hiding behind those facades I created to protect myself was one way I kept distant from those I love. I'm not willing to do that any longer.
Anyway...so much for that this morning. It's Thanksgiving, and I have some stuff to make to take to GrandMa's today. I'm thinking about you...loving you...and the opportunity you gifted me in this sharing with you. I will carry you in my heart...always.
Yer Motha...
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
And yet, another...5/3/1996
OOh! A party!
with party hats
and streamers
gleaming
glittery
jitterbuggy
Stay away from the mirror
you might cry
at the sight you behold
and may wish to remain
naive
quiet
in denial of such truth
that reflections
may reveal
Don't take me there
'cause I don't wanna go
the clouds obscure
what I wish not
to see
And the mirror
it bleeds
when it cries
The underworld sneaks through
the window
left open to catch
night breezes
billowing curtains wide
The tide
washes in
leaving chaos
in its wake
And the party
rages on
with dancing
party hats
of tarnished gold
Another old one. This one? Don't know what I was thinking when I wrote it, but obviously something...hmmm...missing...unexpressed...left to lie fallow, and denied.
Again, I changed it...added to it as I typed. Chuckles...fickle Mama.
Love you GREATLY...yer Motha.
with party hats
and streamers
gleaming
glittery
jitterbuggy
Stay away from the mirror
you might cry
at the sight you behold
and may wish to remain
naive
quiet
in denial of such truth
that reflections
may reveal
Don't take me there
'cause I don't wanna go
the clouds obscure
what I wish not
to see
And the mirror
it bleeds
when it cries
The underworld sneaks through
the window
left open to catch
night breezes
billowing curtains wide
The tide
washes in
leaving chaos
in its wake
And the party
rages on
with dancing
party hats
of tarnished gold
Another old one. This one? Don't know what I was thinking when I wrote it, but obviously something...hmmm...missing...unexpressed...left to lie fallow, and denied.
Again, I changed it...added to it as I typed. Chuckles...fickle Mama.
Love you GREATLY...yer Motha.
11/26/1995 - 1:00 pm
Silent Demands
Silence of a moment
lasts a lifetime
of sorrows accumulated
love left unclaimed
longing felt wanting
This silence
rather intrusive at times
particularly during raving moments
of true madness
The years filed past
slowly filling each calendars' page
one moment
followed by yet another day
The silence of this moment
filed on while I lay sleeping
weeping
Then
once again
you eluded my dreams
escaping open
yearning arms
Moments of silence gave way
as thoughts of you would play
with wisps and trails
on hard-edged tails
of fleeting memories
Sweeping away
creeping along
robbed
of loving you
my arms
remain empty
This silence is rather intrusive
sometimes
I can't be heard
above the rising din
while in this raving moment of madness
raining upon my head
Silence drags on
filled with quiet pandemonium
while the remains
witness
ensuing stillness
shattered
scattered
as if this mattered
And
my arms remain
empty
useless
appendages
hanging
listlessly
by my side
Though you stand
Before me
Now
The preceding years
are lost still
and you remain
a stranger
lost to me yet
Damning the silence
mocking the madness
during raving moments
of pure sadness
Listening for a voice
as yet unheard
waiting release
of silent screams
not long denied
Promises
made in the dark
of lonely, tear-filled nights
as I cradled
and rocked you
lovingly
left me wanting
more
Still
It led
to this intrusive
silence
discovering sadness
while the insanity raged
and waged
war
plaguing sane moments
with elusive possibility
found only in fantasy
Lies
Led to more
lies
fed by a longing
intense
hungry
inspiring greater heights
and
pursuit of mad
agile
mind plays
I wrote this one sometime ago...obvsiously...and it's actually part of the introduction in my thesis. So, it's published. Just so you know...Audrey has the only printed copy I had of my thesis (i.e. published in hardback...though Prescott College has a printed copy, as well...was one of the requirements). She has tried to read it over the years, but...can't. Anyway...I changed it again. I find that I do that when I type out an old piece...I change words...line breaks...etc...always a work in progress. I didn't used to change them much when I was quite young...just left them as is. You know...I have poems I wrote when I was a young 'un...like...when I started writing...around 11-12 yrs old.
I did a class with Carol once...when they were studying poetry...this was one of the pieces I used...read. I was making a point about interpretation of an author's work. Some of the students gave interesting interpretations...many...most?...thought this was a poem of love lost...a lover lost. It is of a love lost, but not about a lover lost. The point was...we can't know what a piece is actually about unless we know the author, and can talk to them...asking. We can make guesses...even educated guesses...potentially accurate guesses...if we know something of their lives, but can't know for sure what a piece is about unless we know them to ask.
The date is significant.
Love you Babes...yer Motha.
Silence of a moment
lasts a lifetime
of sorrows accumulated
love left unclaimed
longing felt wanting
This silence
rather intrusive at times
particularly during raving moments
of true madness
The years filed past
slowly filling each calendars' page
one moment
followed by yet another day
The silence of this moment
filed on while I lay sleeping
weeping
Then
once again
you eluded my dreams
escaping open
yearning arms
Moments of silence gave way
as thoughts of you would play
with wisps and trails
on hard-edged tails
of fleeting memories
Sweeping away
creeping along
robbed
of loving you
my arms
remain empty
This silence is rather intrusive
sometimes
I can't be heard
above the rising din
while in this raving moment of madness
raining upon my head
Silence drags on
filled with quiet pandemonium
while the remains
witness
ensuing stillness
shattered
scattered
as if this mattered
And
my arms remain
empty
useless
appendages
hanging
listlessly
by my side
Though you stand
Before me
Now
The preceding years
are lost still
and you remain
a stranger
lost to me yet
Damning the silence
mocking the madness
during raving moments
of pure sadness
Listening for a voice
as yet unheard
waiting release
of silent screams
not long denied
Promises
made in the dark
of lonely, tear-filled nights
as I cradled
and rocked you
lovingly
left me wanting
more
Still
It led
to this intrusive
silence
discovering sadness
while the insanity raged
and waged
war
plaguing sane moments
with elusive possibility
found only in fantasy
Lies
Led to more
lies
fed by a longing
intense
hungry
inspiring greater heights
and
pursuit of mad
agile
mind plays
I wrote this one sometime ago...obvsiously...and it's actually part of the introduction in my thesis. So, it's published. Just so you know...Audrey has the only printed copy I had of my thesis (i.e. published in hardback...though Prescott College has a printed copy, as well...was one of the requirements). She has tried to read it over the years, but...can't. Anyway...I changed it again. I find that I do that when I type out an old piece...I change words...line breaks...etc...always a work in progress. I didn't used to change them much when I was quite young...just left them as is. You know...I have poems I wrote when I was a young 'un...like...when I started writing...around 11-12 yrs old.
I did a class with Carol once...when they were studying poetry...this was one of the pieces I used...read. I was making a point about interpretation of an author's work. Some of the students gave interesting interpretations...many...most?...thought this was a poem of love lost...a lover lost. It is of a love lost, but not about a lover lost. The point was...we can't know what a piece is actually about unless we know the author, and can talk to them...asking. We can make guesses...even educated guesses...potentially accurate guesses...if we know something of their lives, but can't know for sure what a piece is about unless we know them to ask.
The date is significant.
Love you Babes...yer Motha.
Morning Luv...
Grandma and I went to lunch yesterday for my BirthDay. She said to choose where I wanted to go, so I chose a new place we'd not eaten at previously...Katie's Place. It's a gourmet restaurant that takes common dishes, and spruces them up. It was yummy good. I had lemon chicken on a bed of bow tie pasta mixed with garlic bread, calamata and green olives, and garlic cloves. Grandma had a pulled pork horseshoe, but the cheese sauce was different...lighter...and white, rather than the yellow cheese. Grandma was nervous about going...'gourmet' made her think 'fancy'...it was a casual atmosphere...very nice...chucklin'...Grandma was very reluctant, but will go back...she liked it that well.
I'm headin' over to her house again today...prep for Turkey Day on Thursday. There will be 20 people there for dinner. I miss doin' my own thing. It's weird not planning the meal like I always did...shopping...getting things ready. Sara is making the pumpkin pies...Grandma bought the others from a place called the Apple Barn in Chatham. We'll pick them up this afternoon. I'm makin' the dressing...creamed white corn...a fruit salad. I think Grandma likes havin' my help. That's a lot of food for so many people. Sheesh...we never had that many people at home...did we?
Ro called me last night for a talk...to wish me Happy BirthDay. She sounds so good, honey. I can't get over how...well...grown up she sounds.
Sending hugs and much love...yer Motha...
I'm headin' over to her house again today...prep for Turkey Day on Thursday. There will be 20 people there for dinner. I miss doin' my own thing. It's weird not planning the meal like I always did...shopping...getting things ready. Sara is making the pumpkin pies...Grandma bought the others from a place called the Apple Barn in Chatham. We'll pick them up this afternoon. I'm makin' the dressing...creamed white corn...a fruit salad. I think Grandma likes havin' my help. That's a lot of food for so many people. Sheesh...we never had that many people at home...did we?
Ro called me last night for a talk...to wish me Happy BirthDay. She sounds so good, honey. I can't get over how...well...grown up she sounds.
Sending hugs and much love...yer Motha...
Monday, November 24, 2008
Grrrrrrrrrrrr....
Hard time sleeping tonight, Bums. Responded to your post on my age thingie, will re-read your blogs, and post to them, as well. Can't sleep...chuckles...may as well be productive in some fashion. Can't vacuum...Chrissy's sleeping.
Damn that girl gets up early...around 4 or 4:30 am for cryin' out loud. I never hear her. Not that she has to be quiet...I just sleep soundly, and the girls are used to her now, so they don't grumble at her (yeah...that does wake me up).
Grandma is taking me out to lunch for my BirthDay. Chuckles...she asked me where I wanted to go...I told her...she suggested another place we both like...after telling me to choose where I wanted to go. My girlfriends tell me mothers are just like that. Please? Please? Tell me I don't do that to you. (That's a Mom Order!!!)
I sent Ro her china, too. Talked to Simone, and Sunshine about that this summer. Remember the china set I had? It's the Princess' now. Sent along some wine glasses that were GrandMa Carole's, too. They actually matched the china. Simone will keep for Ro till she's old enough to have it herself. I'd had that stuff since I was 16. That's an antique now...chuckles...isn't it? Don't answer that...rhetorical question.
Well...I think I'm gonna go to bed, and try to sleep again. I'll respond to your blogs in the morning....well...in a few hours. I love you babes.
Yer Motha
Damn that girl gets up early...around 4 or 4:30 am for cryin' out loud. I never hear her. Not that she has to be quiet...I just sleep soundly, and the girls are used to her now, so they don't grumble at her (yeah...that does wake me up).
Grandma is taking me out to lunch for my BirthDay. Chuckles...she asked me where I wanted to go...I told her...she suggested another place we both like...after telling me to choose where I wanted to go. My girlfriends tell me mothers are just like that. Please? Please? Tell me I don't do that to you. (That's a Mom Order!!!)
I sent Ro her china, too. Talked to Simone, and Sunshine about that this summer. Remember the china set I had? It's the Princess' now. Sent along some wine glasses that were GrandMa Carole's, too. They actually matched the china. Simone will keep for Ro till she's old enough to have it herself. I'd had that stuff since I was 16. That's an antique now...chuckles...isn't it? Don't answer that...rhetorical question.
Well...I think I'm gonna go to bed, and try to sleep again. I'll respond to your blogs in the morning....well...in a few hours. I love you babes.
Yer Motha
Friday, November 21, 2008
BirthDays...
My BirthDay is in 4 days now. Yanno...I'm gonna be 50...and I'm not likin' this one little bit.
That just seems...old...or something. I don't 'feel' 50, or...almost 50. What's 50 supposed to feel like? Look like? Act like? Sheesh...I've been asked when I'm going to start acting my age. Dunno...isn't this how 'my age' acts? Or..."When are you going to start dressing your age?" What the hell's 'that' mean? How am I 'supposed' to dress?
Little old lady,
blue jean clad
Dontcha know
that's too bad
Chucklin'...I just think to myself, "Shut the fuck up, and leave me alone. I'm just bein' myself, and that's good enough."
Baaaaaaad Mama!
Love ya...yer Motha
That just seems...old...or something. I don't 'feel' 50, or...almost 50. What's 50 supposed to feel like? Look like? Act like? Sheesh...I've been asked when I'm going to start acting my age. Dunno...isn't this how 'my age' acts? Or..."When are you going to start dressing your age?" What the hell's 'that' mean? How am I 'supposed' to dress?
Little old lady,
blue jean clad
Dontcha know
that's too bad
Chucklin'...I just think to myself, "Shut the fuck up, and leave me alone. I'm just bein' myself, and that's good enough."
Baaaaaaad Mama!
Love ya...yer Motha
Thursday, November 20, 2008
4th Step...
A 4th Step is basically belly button gazing. 12 Step stuff...AA...Alanon...NA type stuff. It states, "Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves." I do one every year at my AA BirthDay (which I just celebrated)...reflecting on the year past...where was I, growth achieved, areas to continue working on, and new awarenesses.
Funny...you were raised in those rooms...with 12 Step folks, but I realize you and I haven't talked much about this aspect of my life. Odd that...considering we've talked about so many other things.
This last year has been an eye opener in a lot of ways. Huge leaps in awarenesses, and understanding on so many levels of my life, T. I'm still processing a lot of it really.
Curiously...one of the things I've addressed is that concept you wrote about..."Perceptionism". Perceptions...the only one I have is my own. Sometimes? It's a false perception based on what I 'want' rather than what's really in front of me...i.e. even given evidence to the contrary. I'm afraid that I do that far too often, actually. It ties in with expectations, and denial, too. Some good stuff...little bit different slant to your idea of perceptions. Yeah...an excellent conversation when I see you this next summer.
Colder than a witch's tit here today. Supposed to get down to 18 tonight. *Shivers in me boots*
Smooches ya...love ya...yer Motha
Funny...you were raised in those rooms...with 12 Step folks, but I realize you and I haven't talked much about this aspect of my life. Odd that...considering we've talked about so many other things.
This last year has been an eye opener in a lot of ways. Huge leaps in awarenesses, and understanding on so many levels of my life, T. I'm still processing a lot of it really.
Curiously...one of the things I've addressed is that concept you wrote about..."Perceptionism". Perceptions...the only one I have is my own. Sometimes? It's a false perception based on what I 'want' rather than what's really in front of me...i.e. even given evidence to the contrary. I'm afraid that I do that far too often, actually. It ties in with expectations, and denial, too. Some good stuff...little bit different slant to your idea of perceptions. Yeah...an excellent conversation when I see you this next summer.
Colder than a witch's tit here today. Supposed to get down to 18 tonight. *Shivers in me boots*
Smooches ya...love ya...yer Motha
Damn...
All that red hurt my eyes this morning. Had to change it.
Well...I've been dealing with insurance crap lately, and finding a GP doc to see here. Blech...icky stuff.
Ok...this is a new poem I've been working on. It's funny...I used to just rip 'em off, but I find I write fewer poems these days, and spend more time on the ones I'm writing...refining...selecting words...blah blah. This one is a work in progress...unfinished as of yet. I'm what's known as a "Confessional Poet"...i.e. one who writes from personal experience. Sometimes? I'm unsure where the words come from...a subconscious need to express what's inside? Sometimes, it's 'old stuff'...long ago things that have resurfaced. I've been working a new 4th step, and this is what came from that...looking at old stuff.
*****************************************************
Thursday, 10/30/2008, 1:59pm
Time drifts
Shifting sideways
Out of the glare
and dare
Of a light
that blinds
And binds
Unbound madness
Seeping
Weeping
Creeping
Upon fragile egos
left untended
to fry
and die
and cry
Not sleeping
Soundly
But dead
upon the pyre
turned ashen
grey
and drifting
sifting
lifting
through the particles
of energy
and mass
Alas
Pass
by the corpse
as it lay upon
the stone slab
One
Two
Three
Was that me?
************************************************************
As I said, a work in progress. Some I want to refine with further work, others...I don't. Not sure if I'll do more to this one, or not...it's just part of the writing process of things that come up as I do my yearly 4th.
There's a coffeehouse here that does poetry readings, and poetry 'slams'. I may go to some of them...maybe read some of my poetry. Dunno...never felt a need to share them much with others, as it's such a personal internal process for me. I do enjoy hearing others' writing though, so may go just for that.
Love ya Babes.
Yer Motha...
Well...I've been dealing with insurance crap lately, and finding a GP doc to see here. Blech...icky stuff.
Ok...this is a new poem I've been working on. It's funny...I used to just rip 'em off, but I find I write fewer poems these days, and spend more time on the ones I'm writing...refining...selecting words...blah blah. This one is a work in progress...unfinished as of yet. I'm what's known as a "Confessional Poet"...i.e. one who writes from personal experience. Sometimes? I'm unsure where the words come from...a subconscious need to express what's inside? Sometimes, it's 'old stuff'...long ago things that have resurfaced. I've been working a new 4th step, and this is what came from that...looking at old stuff.
*****************************************************
Thursday, 10/30/2008, 1:59pm
Time drifts
Shifting sideways
Out of the glare
and dare
Of a light
that blinds
And binds
Unbound madness
Seeping
Weeping
Creeping
Upon fragile egos
left untended
to fry
and die
and cry
Not sleeping
Soundly
But dead
upon the pyre
turned ashen
grey
and drifting
sifting
lifting
through the particles
of energy
and mass
Alas
Pass
by the corpse
as it lay upon
the stone slab
One
Two
Three
Was that me?
************************************************************
As I said, a work in progress. Some I want to refine with further work, others...I don't. Not sure if I'll do more to this one, or not...it's just part of the writing process of things that come up as I do my yearly 4th.
There's a coffeehouse here that does poetry readings, and poetry 'slams'. I may go to some of them...maybe read some of my poetry. Dunno...never felt a need to share them much with others, as it's such a personal internal process for me. I do enjoy hearing others' writing though, so may go just for that.
Love ya Babes.
Yer Motha...
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Introduction...
My son has begun a blog here as a means of sharing his writing with me, and others, as well as a way for him to clear his mind. Chuckles...so I say. He shares his writing with me regularly. We share this love of the written word, yet, I realize I've not shared much of my own with him. So...I've begun this blog at his suggestion...for him.
Blogging isn't new to me...sharing with "T" in such a way...is. *Waves to my Boo.* T and I have always shared a love of writing, but also of music. We've exchanged new sounds for many years...a way of knowing where one or the other is, as we spark to the lyrics we hear first. That whole word thing, again.
T is in the Army...deployed overseas right now. Needless to say, I miss him tremendously. I have two other children...T is the youngest of the three at 22, almost 23. The oldest lives near me in Illinois, and the mid-kid is in AZ where I lived for many, many years. They have gifted me with four beautiful GrandBabies...I'm "Granna" (sounds like Granaw).
Anyway...'he' knows all that...now you do, too. Am off to send him this link, and to get my ass in gear to start my day. Usually, Wednesdays are a hang day with my sister Denice, and Ma, but Denice is working today, and Ma has been down with a pulled muscle in her hip. So...am futzin' around the house today...organizing my beads so I can start a new jewelry project.
T...I'm making a rosary for Sara. Man that girl's a hardcore Catholic. She's looking to be the next Youth Minister at her church. Her oldest, KatieAnn...will make her First Communion this next year, and I'm going to make her rosary for that. Nawww...you know I don't believe that stuff, but they do...and making this special one for KatieAnn is a special thing for me because it's important to 'them'. Anyway...that's my plan for the day...to sort the beads. They're a mess since I unpacked from the move. Ack!! I even spilled some on the floor that I've not picked up yet.
Blogging isn't new to me...sharing with "T" in such a way...is. *Waves to my Boo.* T and I have always shared a love of writing, but also of music. We've exchanged new sounds for many years...a way of knowing where one or the other is, as we spark to the lyrics we hear first. That whole word thing, again.
T is in the Army...deployed overseas right now. Needless to say, I miss him tremendously. I have two other children...T is the youngest of the three at 22, almost 23. The oldest lives near me in Illinois, and the mid-kid is in AZ where I lived for many, many years. They have gifted me with four beautiful GrandBabies...I'm "Granna" (sounds like Granaw).
Anyway...'he' knows all that...now you do, too. Am off to send him this link, and to get my ass in gear to start my day. Usually, Wednesdays are a hang day with my sister Denice, and Ma, but Denice is working today, and Ma has been down with a pulled muscle in her hip. So...am futzin' around the house today...organizing my beads so I can start a new jewelry project.
T...I'm making a rosary for Sara. Man that girl's a hardcore Catholic. She's looking to be the next Youth Minister at her church. Her oldest, KatieAnn...will make her First Communion this next year, and I'm going to make her rosary for that. Nawww...you know I don't believe that stuff, but they do...and making this special one for KatieAnn is a special thing for me because it's important to 'them'. Anyway...that's my plan for the day...to sort the beads. They're a mess since I unpacked from the move. Ack!! I even spilled some on the floor that I've not picked up yet.
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