So long, Burt
It was backed up to his apartment when I got home from work Friday afternoon – a U-Haul truck of about mid-sized length. Burt was moving out.
Burt is a nice gentleman that I met shortly after I moved here back in Spring of 2008. I have to admit I was a bit intimidated upon first impression. His clean-shaven head and tattoos up around his neck definitely had me on my guard. I’ve always tried to be non-judgmental, but admittedly there are times when I allow first impressions to put that gate up, albeit temporarily. This seemed especially so upon starting over – I had trouble trusting anyone.
Burt would always be the one in the parking lot helping another resident do something – moving, working on a car, etc. Everyone knew him by first name, and he knew everyone else’s name as well. We used to have a handicapped neighbor who resided here for years that Burt was always helping out in some way. I’d just gotten home from work one day last summer when he walked over and told me our neighbor had passed away that morning. It was obviously emotional for him.
The office staff where I live took in three full grown cats abandoned by former tenants, and paid for their care, spay/neutering and shots. They then had the task of finding them homes. They decided to keep the last one (Mr. Whiskers) as their very own in the office – and trust me, this cat has it very good. One of the other adoptive parents? Burt.
As I walked over Friday to tell him goodbye, it appeared that the move itself was emotional for him. “I’m moving back to the beach where my girlfriend lives. I don’t know… guess this whole thing makes me vulnerable again”. It kind of hit home when he said that. Committing your self wholly to your relationship – giving up your own place to live, many of your belongings, furniture – your own home that you worked so hard to build – feeling as though you’re losing, in a sense, your very own identity. I quickly shook off the Ally McBeal psycho-flash I’d just had, and told him the first thing that came to my mind. “Nothing worth having is without risk. Go for it.”
You truly were a staple of the community, Burt. Good luck – and God speed.
Disruption
My normal little life at home was disturbed last night. It has been discovered that we have a peeping Tom (umm, make that a Tombrero). The piece of crap was discovered last night peeping in on my first-floor neighbors. Of course I called the authorities, but he disappeared before the officer got there.
My normal little life at home consists of a peaceful third floor condo in a nice complex situated within a small little lake town. Realizing that no place is totally safe, there are places that are more desirable than others to live. A lot of things were considered when choosing a place to live – but safety came first for me. To me, peeping in on someone is one of the ultimate revocations of your privacy. This is just one of the reasons I chose the third floor – but not everyone gets a choice on this, and also some people actually prefer the ground floor.
It obviously wasn’t a first for this peeping Tombrero. My boyfriend’s eagle eyes noticed the guy had his sweatshirt turned inside out in an attempt to throw off the color of his clothing. To ice the cake, the scumbag was even performing a vile act in public while he was looking in. Just great. Of course he disappeared before the police arrived, but not before hopping over the balcony for a better view. I just got off the phone with the office at my complex and our conversation was not taken lightly. I told them until he’s caught, I will have the cops out there every single time I see him. Keith made an excellent suggestion last night… when I’m out on my dark balcony and see him down there again – snap a picture! The flash alone will freak him out. I am adding on to this suggestion. In my other hand, I will have a can of wasp spray that shoots down thirty feet.
And I’m a damn good shot.
Choices
In this game of life, there are some things which we have control over, and some we don’t. We can choose to be kind and compassionate to people, or we can be nasty and vile. We can choose to help our neighbors, or we can hinder or block the good deeds of others. We can choose to ‘do the right thing’ – or we can attempt to break those around us.
So how do you handle a miserable existence of an individual who is so delusionally obsessed over your life and that of your loved one, that it’s become their sole objective to infiltrate it in any way possible? An individual who recruits their own family members and friends to aid in their own juvenile schemes? An individual who is greatly influencing their child with their deception and lack of moral character? I believe that this lone corrupt individual must be left to bask in their own self-destruction. I choose to neither feed nor lend energy to this hateful, dark, putrid excuse for a human being.
Because some things never change.
So I’ll tell you how I handle it. I choose happiness. My drama cup shall remain empty. I’ve made it this far, and believe me when I say I ain’t going back. I choose that bright light that our Lord promises and provides, free of charge – for any of us who are willing to receive it.
Daisy Chain
The following is actually from a little over a year ago, before my blogging days. I did not write the words, but over a fair amount of time did do the compilation – written from a variety of beloved sources and wise souls. I remember at the time, I was in a sense lost – feeling alone and blissfully unaware of my own purpose in life. My arrival at this point came from a failed 21-year marriage and the quest to ‘find myself’. I was comforted by the wise words, and found myself ever-searching of them.
Running across it brought back memories of being truly alone. Of the endless search for wisdom – of knowledge of who was fake and who was authentic; and the hopeful ability to discern the difference. I’m not changing any of the content, nor the order… and I do realize it’s scattered. But at the time, so was I.
______________________________________________________________________________
My best dreams and worst nightmares have the same people in them.
What is more the benefit? To love a person that is already loved by everyone, or to love a person that is rejected by everyone?
Hugging is healthy. It helps the immune system, cures depression, reduces stress, and induces sleep. It’s invigorating, rejuvenating & has no unpleasant side effects. It’s nothing less than a miracle drug. Hugging is all natural. It’s organic, naturally sweet, has no artificial ingredients, environmentally friendly & is 100% wholesome. Hugging is the ideal gift. Great for any occasion, fun to give & receive, shows you care, comes with its own wrapping paper and, of course, is fully returnable.
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
We wait all these years to find someone who understands us… someone who accepts us as we are… someone with a wizard’s power to melt stone to sunlight… that can bring us happiness in spite of trials… that can face our dragons in the night… who can transform us into the soul we choose to be. Just yesterday I found that magical someone is the face we see in the mirror: It’s us and our homemade masks.
Happiness needs sadness. Success needs failure. Benevolence needs evil. Love needs hatred. Victory needs defeat. Pleasure needs pain.
You must experience and accept the extremes. Because if the contrast is lost, you lose appreciation; and when you lose appreciation, you lose the value of everything.
Of the Seven Deadly Sins, anger is possibly the most fun. To lick your wounds, to smack your lips over grievances long past, to roll over your tongue the prospect of bitter confrontations still to come, to savor to the last toothsome morsel of both the pain you are given and the pain you are giving back – in many ways it is a feast fit for a king. The chief drawback is that what you are wolfing down is yourself. The skeleton at the feast is you.
Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret.
Forgiveness does not overlook the deed. It rises above it.
It always amazes me to see people making a decision to never forgive. It’s like trying to punish their tormentors by harming themselves. In the long run, it’s not a question of whether they deserve to be forgiven. You’re not forgiving them for their sake. You’re doing it for yourself. For your own health and well being, forgiveness is simply the most energy-efficient option. It frees you from the incredibly toxic, debilitating drain of holding a grudge. Don’t let these people live rent free in your head. If they hurt you before, why let them keep doing it year after year in your mind? It’s not worth it but it takes heart effort to stop it. You can muster that heart power to forgive them as a way of looking out for yourself. It’s one thing you can be totally selfish about.
I’ve always heard to live everyday as if it was your last. I disagree. I think you should live everyday as if it was your first, where everything is new and exciting. You try new things, and you’re not waiting for your life to end – you’re waiting for it to begin.
Your friends are your release. They’re who you have the most fun with, and yet when the going gets tough, those people turn around and suddenly they’re not just making you laugh, they’re being this rock and giving you all their advice. Even though you’re so much your own person, if you dissect yourself, I guarantee you, your friends are in there. Their influence is incredible. However rare true love may be, it is less so than true friendship.
You’ll never know how much you needed your friends until you look back along the rope and realize how many knots they tied to keep you from Falling. I don’t want someone to catch me when I fall; I want someone to stop me before I do.
Someday someone might come into your life and love you the way you’ve always wanted. If your someday was yesterday, learn. If your someday is tomorrow, hope. If your someday is today, cherish.
Walking away isn’t the hard part – it’s not looking back.
Tears are words the heart can’t say.
I tried to conquer the Universe, but it defeated me.
I tried to capture the Universe, but it eluded me.
I tried to understand the Universe, but it outwitted me.
So, clumsily, hesitantly, I tried to love the Universe,
And it embraced me.
Does anyone else find it amazing that during the mad cow epidemic our government could track a single cow, born in Canada almost three years ago, right to the stall where she slept in the state of Washington? And, they tracked her calves to their stalls. But they are unable to locate 11 million illegal aliens wandering around our country. Maybe we should give each of them a cow.
Sooner or later you have to make a choice…leave behind your passion, your dreams – or have the strength to look past all discouraging faces and look at yourself and know that you have what it takes… and you will prove them wrong.
To love requires courage, the ability to take a risk, the readiness even to accept pain and disappointment. Whoever insists on safety and security as primary conditions of life cannot love; whoever shuts himself off in a system of defense and possession as his means of security, makes himself a prisoner.
Never assume greatness is for someone else. Imagine every day that you too can do great things. Have the courage to take the challenge, make the mistakes, and move forward. Who knows, maybe one day someone will be sharing your moment with you.
One less
I did it, I did it… and it’s finally over. The nervousness, anxiousness everything’s over. Mine offending tooth beith gone. History. Outta here. See ya.
It took the dentist between 20-25 minutes to get that bad-boy outta there… the words stressful and traumatic just don’t quite do the job of describing it. But this dentist is nothing short of awesome, and he made that time span as easy as possible on me. He did a great job, the tooth just obviously wasn’t ready to go anywhere. Eight or so stitches later, I’m good to go. What commercial had that it in initially… Taco Bell?
Good to go.
Mmmmm, I want some Taco Bell. Maybe this weekend.
The Truth
I just noticed my daughter’s latest facebook status update. It reads, “When at night you cannot sleep, talk to the Shepherd and stop counting sheep.” Truth.
My boyfriend made me a bracelet this weekend. I watched closely as he carefully color-coordinated bead by bead on a strong leather strand. As he tied it on my arm I told him, “This is my love bracelet.” Truth.
Now I’m gonna dive deep. What is a simple definition of Truth, really… a verified fact? Conformity to reality or actuality? Sincerity… integrity? A fact, a proof?
Most of us have known one or more persons in our life that have issues with honesty, or have problems telling the truth. The ones that really get me, though, are those who are blatantly caught at something and can still look you right in the eye and lie about it – even when facts are presented.
For some reason, it always brings to mind one of my all-time favorite comedic skits. A woman confronts her man over questions of infidelity, and the man vehemently denies any wrong-doing even though he’s caught red-handed. Click here for a look… this is hilarious in a raw kinda way.
Hey…. wadn’t me….
If only everyone just knew how much the truth really means, of all it’s able to accomplish for us. That when used, it can overcome so many negative feelings or emotions. Being honest makes people trust you, respect you. It brings about a heightened sense of security in a relationship, and strengthens each of you in many different ways. When you tell a loved one the truth, it’s actually saying ‘you are precious to me and worthy of complete knowledge’.
The way I see it, the general consensus wins. Once a liar, always a liar. In my forty-two years, I’ve personally never witnessed a huge changeover in a person who has issues with being honest. That’s unfortunate, not only for them but for the persons involved with them.
The Truth. Will. Set. You. Free. Seriously? Well, yeah – I believe it will. Put it this way… I’d rather hear the truth any old day than some sugar-coat of a fakeness. It may not always be something I want to hear…. but I want to hear it nonetheless. Now I know I can’t change the world, I quit trying a long time ago. It does make for a nice dream though…
My Bright Spot
In the stress of everyday life, one always welcomes a bright spot. The past week I’ve had an aunt in the hospital and an offending tooth – both of which are nowhere close to being out of the woods yet. But once again… along comes Bright Spot.
My sweet guy is cooking dinner tonight in celebration of the premier of Survivor Nicaragua (haters be gone… I don’t do just any reality show). I absolutely adore Survivor and have been a loyal fan for the past 20+ seasons. This season promises a higher ratio of ‘mature’ persons, which I’m really looking forward to. Don’t get me wrong, the 20-something hot bods are nice to look at – but I do like a little reality in my reality show. Mix it up a bit and show us what’s really out there. I wanna see a few huffers trekking up that hill in the challenges, know what I mean? They’re even labeling this season “The Battle of the Ages”. In any case – the show’s gonna look a helluva lot better on his 52″ high-def than it would on my 25″ box. Trust me on that.
Click here for a 2-minute sneak peak.
So um, which one’s my bright spot… my man or my show? (Insert chuckle here) Wellll, on this particular night, I’d have to pick both. 🙂
The Intimidator
It’s been forever and a day since I’ve been to the amusement park Carowinds. I’ve always lived within a 5-mile radius of it, so we always had a season pass up until several years ago. My good-as-gold boyfriend suggested going yesterday, so we gathered each of our daughters up and made a wonderful day out of it.
I’ve gotta say I am now ruined on any other roller coaster at the park since I’ve ridden their newest addition, The Intimidator. I mean WOW, this ride is intense – we were all nervous at first. The sheer height of the thing takes your breath looking at it, and it spans a great deal of the park itself – but once we rode it we were all hooked. It’s so awesome that I could ride that thing over and over with no breaks between.
Appropriately named after the late great Dale Earnhardt Sr., The Intimidator is the tallest, fastest, and longest roller coaster in the southeast. With a height of 232 feet, track length of 5,316 feet and speeds upwards of 75-80mph, it’s a must-ride. My favorite part has to be the eight ‘drops’ it offers.
I found a video of Kerry Earnhardt (Dale Earnhardt’s son) riding it for the first time. I loved it… it’s almost like watching a young Dale since he has always favored his dad so much.
Remember when…
It is a day of somber remembrance for every American. A day which we should take every opportunity to be thankful for our lives, our freedom and our God-given rights as an American citizen.
Oh, how I do love a good writer. Since the day I found this, I’ve waited almost a whole year to repost it. I wanted to repost it on the very day that would collide with it’s memory… that most fateful day in American History.
September 11, 2001.
Leonard Pitts, a 2004 Pulitzer Prizewinning columnist of the Miami Herald, gained national recognition for this widely circulated column that ran on that most bleak and numb day of September 12, 2001. Please, if you’ve never read this, take a minute. Listen, learn and remember.
We’ll Go Forward From This Moment
It’s my job to have something to say. They pay me to provide words that help make sense of that which troubles the American soul. But in this moment of airless shock when hot tears sting disbelieving eyes, the only thing I can find to say, the only words that seem to fit, must be addressed to the unknown author of this suffering.
You monster. You beast. You unspeakable bastard.
What lesson did you hope to teach us by your coward’s attack on our World Trade Center, our Pentagon, us? What was it you hoped we would learn? Whatever it was, please know that you failed.
Did you want us to respect your cause? You just damned your cause.
Did you want to make us fear? You just steeled our resolve.
Did you want to tear us apart? You just brought us together.
Let me tell you about my people. We are a vast and quarrelsome family, a family rent by racial, social, political and class division, but a family nonetheless. We’re frivolous, yes, capable of expending tremendous emotional energy on pop cultural minutiae – a singer’s revealing dress, a ball team’s misfortune, a cartoon mouse. We’re wealthy, too, spoiled by the ready availability of trinkets and material goods, and maybe because of that, we walk through life with a certain sense of blithe entitlement. We are fundamentally decent, though – peaceful, loving, and compassionate. We struggle to know the right thing and to do it. And we are, the overwhelming majority of us, people of faith, believers in a just and loving God.
Some people — you, perhaps — think that any or all of this makes us weak. You’re mistaken. We are not weak. Indeed, we are strong in ways that cannot be measured by arsenals.
IN PAIN
Yes, we’re in pain now. We are in mourning and we are in shock. We’re still grappling with the unreality of the awful thing you did, still working to make ourselves understand that this isn’t a special effect from some Hollywood blockbuster, isn’t the plot development from a Tom Clancy novel. Both in terms of the awful scope of their ambition and the probable final death toll, your attacks are likely to go down as the worst acts of terrorism in the history of the United States and, probably, the history of the world. You’ve bloodied us as we have never been bloodied before.
But there’s a gulf of difference between making us bloody and making us fall. This is the lesson Japan was taught to its bitter sorrow the last time anyone hit us this hard, the last time anyone brought us such abrupt and monumental pain. When roused, we are righteous in our outrage, terrible in our force. When provoked by this level of barbarism, we will bear any suffering, pay any cost, go to any length, in the pursuit of justice.
I tell you this without fear of contradiction. I know my people, as you, I think, do not. What I know reassures me. It also causes me to tremble with dread of the future.
In the days to come, there will be recrimination and accusation, fingers pointing to determine whose failure allowed this to happen and what can be done to prevent it from happening again. There will be heightened security, misguided talk of revoking basic freedoms. We’ll go forward from this moment sobered, chastened, sad. But determined, too. Unimaginably determined.
THE STEEL IN US
You see, the steel in us is not always readily apparent. That aspect of our character is seldom understood by people who don’t know us well. On this day, the family’s bickering is put on hold. As Americans we will weep, as Americans we will mourn, and as Americans, we will rise in defense of all that we cherish.
So I ask again: What was it you hoped to teach us? It occurs to me that maybe you just wanted us to know the depths of your hatred. If that’s the case, consider the message received.
And take this message in exchange:
-You don’t know my people.
-You don’t know what we’re capable of.
-You don’t know what you just started.
But you’re about to learn.
©Leonard Pitts, September 12, 2001
Time in a bottle
As I glanced at the calendar this morning, a wave of nostalgia hit me. Twenty-three years ago today, I got married. My first and only time.
Everything in life happens for a reason. It is true that time tends to change things. People change, and grow, in different ways – sometimes in two completely opposite directions. The product of that union is a wonderful young woman. A woman who has set out to enrich the world with her beauty, charisma, honesty, knowledge, love of God, and heart of gold.
Her name is Julia Christine, and I thank God every day for her. She is by far the biggest blessing ever bestowed upon me – and I’m sure her father feels the same way.
Instead of dwelling on how long the storm lasted… remember how good the breeze from it felt. ~BM
Thoughts on a letter to one’s self
I was perusing around in freshly pressed and found a post that was mega-intriguing. This blogger submitted an excellent post (and a few of her other friends have followed suit) titled ‘A Letter to my 16-year-old Self’. She calls the idea simul-blogging, in which the topic is laid on the table, and those interested will semi-simultaneously post on that same topic. Now, as nostalgic as the old Bonster is, you can rest assured that I’m not gonna be able to leave this little diddy just sitting there. With that said, my next dilemma lies in whether or not I can bridge such a large age gap from the present all the way back to sixteen. After all, these ladies only have to go back 10 years or so with their letter – whereas if I go back in time to age sixteen it’ll be more like (oh crap where’s my calculator) I’d likely need a time-machine. In all seriousness though, I’d be going back twenty-six years.
Actually… I think that’s doable. In fact, maybe it’ll put a little different spin on things since there’s so much post-sixteen to write about. Hmmm. The more I think about it – I like it, and the fact that I have a few years under my belt that I may now use as ‘material’. Yeah.
Buckle your seatbelts, boys and girls – this could be a bumpy ride.
Check out Katie’s post above – it’s a fabulous one and very deserving of freshly pressed status. Any of you out there interested in giving this a whirl?
My favorite full moon
The full moon arrives tonight at 5:06pm EST. I was reminiscing last night about my very favorite ‘whole moon’ ever, which is what I used to call them as a child.
I was an eleven year-old girl, and we were vacationing at the beach for a week. My uncle had rented a oceanfront house for us located at the very end of the beach – a very private and exquisite place. I remember my mother, grandmother and I being taken aback and feeling like royalty.
One night, Mom let me walk out on the beach alone, barefoot in my little silk nightgown. There happened to be a full moon on that night, and the incandescent light flooded the ocean and the sand in a most beautiful way. It was the brightest night I ever do remember, and the sand appeared white as snow.
You know those blinding diamonds the sunshine makes on the water? The moon made them too; only they were of a different hue and vibrancy – matte white diamonds highlighted solely by the big white moon. As I walked along the shoreline with my nightgown flowing in the breeze, I imagined what it would be like to be a grown woman. I glanced down at my feet every so often to make sure they were still touching the wet sand, like it was a dream that I would wake up from at any time. That night, I was in front of the most beautiful ocean I’ve ever seen – to me, the beauty of that night hasn’t been matched since.
I remember thinking ‘if I could just stay here – in the moonlight on this seashore, for the rest of my life… I’d be happy’. Rather odd thinking for an eleven year-old child. As I look back though, I realize that was the place and time where my love for the ocean really started. I mean true love… and true appreciation. From then on, our seas and all of it’s inhabitants have remained just as mesmerizing to me. It’s the one thing in this world that still remains magical to me… no matter how old of a child I grow to be.
Welcome back, whole moon.
Home Sweet Home
Anyone else out there ready for fall? I mean, I would like another trip to the beach before it gets cold, but aside from that I’m ready for that orange and red hue. The feel of a cool mountain breeze. To have back the kind of weather that warrants pants (or capris) but you can still don the flip-flops in. The tank top under a sweatjacket weather – yeah. And, I wanna see pumpkins.
We all joined forces yesterday to get K’s Mom moved into her new house. The house suits her perfectly and she is so happy. K might not be aware of how very similar mine and his mother’s lives are, as far as many details of our past life and starting over from scratch. Whenever it’s just the two of us, such as yesterday when her and I drove out to the house together, the conversation always drifts over to our past life – and how very thankful we are to have a second chance at being happy.
Today I am so very sore in muscles I didn’t even know I had. That’s the way it always seems to go whenever you move! The thing that feels best right now is to fist-beat my calves at medium strength. I know – epsom salt. So I’ll definitely look forward to that later, combined of course with a tub of water, candles and a nice glass of wine. ‘Cause that’s how I roll. 🙂
The tickle factor
I do love to laugh – always have, and always will. At anything and everything… whenever appropriate, that is. I’ve never been the kind of person who will giggle at anothers expense, though; like when someone trips, falls out of a chair, etc. Guess I just never found humor in a situation that had the potential of embarrassing another individual.
Last night my guy and I found ourselves in a discussion on being ticklish. Not actually tickling, just discussing it. 🙂 So it seems that the older we’ve gotten, the less ticklish we’ve both become. Has anyone else run into this?
Even in my twenties, I was very ticklish in many many areas. But now… well you really have to catch me on a good day to implement the ole’ tickle factor. Unless, of course, it occurs during a romantic moment when I’m trying to remain serious. Yes, it does seem to only happen a ‘whim’ nowadays. This seriously saddens me!
There’s already a shortage of laughter in the world. But to see yourself losing that every-faithful ‘auto button’… well, let’s just say I’m taking that one pretty hard.
Recipe for Disaster
Another one has happened. A death, albeit a celebrity – at the hands of an automobile texting behind the wheel. Dr. Frank Ryan, a plastic surgeon to the stars, gained even further celebrity status when he controversially performed ten procedures in one single day on the reality series star Heidi Montag.
Dr. Ryan was driving along the Pacific Coast Highway immediately following a scenic hike with his beloved dog, Jill. He snapped the below picture of sweet Jill lying in the sand atop a cliff, as she gazed longingly towards the sea.
Twitter has become increasingly popular over the past few years, and Dr. Ryan seemed to have become as fond of it as I. Personally, I feel it’s the one social network in which you can share your thoughts with the rest of the world… without people yacking back at you. Rather, it doesn’t appear on your own page if they do – it dirties up their own.
Photo rights © http://twitter.com/drfrankryan
His tweet: “Border collie jill surveying the view from atop the sand dune”
The one thing I don’t understand is why he didn’t tweet the picture right upon taking it, instead of waiting until he was behind the wheel. His car veered off a PCH cliff, down a 20-foot embankment of rocks. Dr. Ryan was pronounced dead at the scene of the crash with the official cause of death being blunt head trauma. Amazingly enough, his dog Jill survived but she has serious injuries after being found in the ocean below. I can only imagine the heartbreak his poor Mother is feeling! Quoted as saying on his 50th birthday just last year, “Happy birthday dear.. birthday boy… our miracle baby. He’s been wonderful, and I hope he has a long life.”
Photo rights © http://www.tmz.com
I know this is a hard one to look at, but there could be worse. Some of us need to see the reality of our actions… because I know I did.
I’m ashamed to admit that texting while driving is something I myself used to do. Before all the hype and headlines about the dangers it brought, I did it. Trust me when I say I’m not proud of it, and have had a few very close calls resulting from this selfless and careless act. I can’t tell you exactly what it was that changed my whole outlook – maybe it was the close calls, maybe all the news headlines… or maybe it was that dreaded four-minute video that circulated around on facebook and elsewhere. Whatever the case is – I realize how very lucky I am.
Texting while driving can be life changing, and life taking. For yourself, and for others. We don’t need the celebrity status to deem ourselves invincible… we have the uncanny ability of feeling that all on our own!! Please don’t chance it.
Searching
I’m still at a loss for words – for this I am sorry.
My nieces take my breath away with their beauty… both of them.
I see my own daughter, her father and family completely torn to pieces.
As am I.
My thoughts go every which way but loose. What set of problems could penetrate the mind so,
that this would become the only answer.
It has all become a mind game to me – of whether this really happened… or not.
There are far too many people depending on your strength for their own selves.
You are way too young to exit.
All the people who turned out tonight love you so… and the tears of tough men abound.
I wish you and I had talked before you left. I so wish for that.
A little bird sits on the window sill, watching me type… and still I think of you. I do believe you must be happy beyond words right now.
And at peace. Finally, at peace.
If you really knew me…
Even recently, I’ve seen a few posts of this kind. I find them intriguing, and thought I’d take a stab at it myself. I’ll be the first to admit it really worked the ole’ brain a bit. If nothing else, it forced me to take a step back and take a good look at myself – which isn’t a bad idea to do from time to time…
If you really knew me, you would know: That every day I make a valiant effort to laugh heartily at least once. Laughing is my favorite thing in the world to do, and nothing else has ever matched the euphoric feeling it brings me.
And over here, in the darker corner… we have the times that I laugh in order to keep from crying.
If you really knew me, you would know: That I despise a blatant liar. Unless I believe the truth will really hurt your feelings, I’ll be completely honest with you. I know there are exceptions that run the gamut on this… with that said, I simply cannot justify not getting that same truth in return.
If you really knew me, you would know: That I’m really somewhat of a loner. I hate crowds and even large groups of people. I would be perfectly content to come home from work on a Friday afternoon and not leave my condo again until Monday morning.
If you really knew me, you would know: That as cliche as it may sound, all I’ve really ever wanted in life is to be loved. Totally, completely, wholly and without reserve. I believe this particular type of love to be easily recognizable by it’s recipient.
If you really knew me, you would know: That my tolerance for small children is marginal at best. Not just any small children… but the small children of today’s world. The children who are bribed, petted and spoiled by today’s parents in order to semi-behave.
If you really knew me, you would know: I love the ocean and it’s inhabitants so much so, that I can get really emotional just talking about it if I allow myself.
If you really knew me, you would know: That I abhor drama – in any way, shape or form. If you bring drama close to me and I see it for what it is, I will most certainly turn my back on you and walk away. Because I can.
If you really knew me, you would know: That the ability to write means everything to me. It doesn’t matter to me that I don’t write professionally. If I go one single day without writing something, anything – I feel like a huge part of me is missing.
If you really knew me, you would know: That I’m very opinionated on two subjects: politics and religion. It really doesn’t pay for me to argue the subject of either one, because I’ll stop at nothing to prove my point. By then, my blood pressure has usually skyrocketed past the safe zone.
If you really knew me, you would know: That I’m one of those dreaded perfectionists. I struggle daily with this debilitating trait that so often makes my life more difficult than it should be.
If you really knew me, you would know: That I strongly uphold marriage vows, and I believe that there are ZERO excuses for infidelity within a marriage. The pain that results from this type of cowardly betrayal may lessen with time, but the scars will remain forever.
If you really knew me, you would know: That I feel just as strongly about domestic violence. In fact, maybe even more so. I’ll have to get back with you on that one.
If you really knew me, you would know: That I worry way too much of what others think of me. I do know I’ve literally spent a lifetime trying to reroute this warped way of thinking. At this point, any improvement in this area is looking kinda shady.
And over here, in the lighter corner… I’ve come to realize that shade trees sometimes provide an incandescent lift…
Sometimes…
I always enjoy conversations with my Dad. I can always depend on him to give me his honest opinion as well as a fresh male perspective on things, no matter how deep the subject matter. The other day he and I were in a discussion and he said something that really made me think. He told me, “sometimes you have to close one door in order to open another“. Now, there’s a world of difference between this saying and “when one door closes, another one opens”.
Case in point. A few posts back, I wrote ‘August first’ in which I described the one-year anniversary my boyfriend and I had, and some reflections I had of that year. In doing so, I also felt the need to clarify some ‘trying times’ that had occurred just a couple weeks prior to that. I told my Dad of this and why I felt this need to explain myself. Then he said it… “well, you know – sometimes you have to close one door in order to open another.” It makes a lot of sense if you think about it. I closely relate this little nugget of wisdom to ‘tending to unfinished business’ or ‘tying up loose ends’. I love wise sayings like this one which serves to ‘simplify life’ a little more… which I think we all could use more of.
Thanks, Dad.
In a roundabout way
Because apparently, there are still people that need reminding of this.
Yesterday we got a whole stack of these little puppies in. Yes, a stack. One for each appropriately used bathroom within our office and plant. Now I don’t work around food – I work in a print facility. That said, it’s just as important to maintain sanitary conditions here within our facility. If you think about it, printed materials generally go around or ‘house’ something anyway.
So just like pretty much everything else in life, all this ends up going in a circle.
Art by Yvonne Richer
I understand that not washing my hands will have a negative affect on others around me and I will apply my knowledge of this by directing myself to the sink for a wash-up.
😀
Life of Bon 
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