“Everybody wants to go to Heaven, get their wings and fly around,

Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody want to go now.

Someday, I want to see those streets of gold with my Halo,

But, I wouldn’t mind waitin’ at least a hundred years or so.

Everybody wants to go to Heaven, it beats the other place there ain’t no doubt…

Everybody wants to go to Heaven, but nobody want to go now.”


~Kenny Chesney’s Hit Country Song-Everybody Wants to Go to Heaven (sung Calypso style so "nobody want" is correct and not a typo!)



I ain’t ready.

Can’t go anytime soon. I’m booked. Yep, at least for the next 30 or 40 years.

No…..I am just not able to fit it in to my ever- expanding schedule. I’ve got a Franklin-Covey planner and I was trained how to use it.

I’m busy, busy, busy!!!

There’s people to see and do…..I mean LOTS of things to do…dear friends and family to enjoy, a laundry list of movies to watch while cuddling on the sofa with a special someone, tons and tons of books to read and at least one to be written, a variety of interesting and beautiful photographs to be taken, edited, shared and maybe sold, photography contests to be entered and won, and scrapbooks to be made for each of the children and of course, one for me!

There’s trying my artistic hand at painting with watercolors and dirtying those hands by throwing a pot or two on a spinning wheel!

There‘s dreams to be dreamt and to see come true; cuddly, sweet-smelling grandbabies and great-grandchildren to be born and rocked, sang to and played with over the next couple of decades. I still have to witness my own children’s continued growth and successes over the coming years.

And……how about that trip to beautiful Costa Rica to visit an old friend who’s just now moving there? The Alaskan Cruise and off-shore excursions; talk about photo ops….oh, and the Spanish Language Immersion trip to Mexico! While I am in Mexico, I must ride a horse in the sunset on the beach…a life-long fantasy that must come true.

Let’s not forget the field of brilliant yellow sunflowers that I’ve been longing to find to and photograph! The family genealogy needs to be finished and skeletons need to be released from the closets!

There’s so many concerts, plays and music to be enjoyed, hands to be held and quiet, comfortable silences with a soul-mate that I‘d like to grow old with; whoever he may be.

There’s an abundant life to be lived and enjoyed, with this new spiritual outlook…so I just need that opportunity to take these once broken wings and learn fly. God, please hear my prayer!

I must also have a chance to finish preparing “my” perfect Heaven. I’m still picking out the furniture, décor, and the sunsets and sunrises. The above photo is a incredible scene from my wonderful weekend! I think it's gonna work just fine!

Then there’s the people who will be in my glorious Heaven too. Some are already there. Some I’ll have to wait for once I get there. Some of you may be there too. I will let you know! Someone recently told me I’d be in his Heaven! I think that was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me! Imagine that!

There’s lots of work yet to be done. In the meantime, I am living as if there’s Heaven on Earth.

I hope you are too!


Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies within us while we live.
-Norman Cousins

Keepin' Copies of the Memorandum

“The horror of that moment,” the King said, “I shall never, never forget.” “You will though,” said the Queen, “if you don’t make a memorandum of it.”

Lewis Carroll; Through the Looking Glass


In my line of work, the job wasn’t finished until the paperwork was done. We had to document everything and I mean E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G, day in and day out. If it wasn’t on paper, basically, it never happened. Documentation of any event was our “proof” and needed for a variety of procedural reasons, including all aspects of the inmate’s incarceration and the disciplinary process. Our pen was mightier than any sword and we knew how to use it! “Write me a memo!” or “Where’s your report?” was uttered more often than any other phrase that I can think of in Corrections.

Having been drawn the written word, whether by reading, creative writing or journaling for the majority of my life, it wasn’t ever hard for me to whip up a report or memorandum on the job, whenever it was required. And of course, we were taught to always keep a copy of our reports just-in-case someone lost our paperwork as it was passed along the bureaucratic pipeline. So, you can imagine the stacks and boxes of paperwork that I have accumulated in my 25 year career.

Maybe some of my co-workers were not as dedicated as I when it came to hanging on to every scrap of paper which colorfully documented a particular moment in my prison “time” but I considered it my life’s story. At the very least, I considered it the story of my utterly fascinating career! Since I worked in a traditionally male dominated career field, my saved reports were documentary evidence that I survived what some thought couldn’t be done and excelled while doing it!

I thought maybe I’d eventually write my life story, or put it all together in a scrapbook. Possibly someday, my great-grandchildren would happen upon the old documents and really trip out that their old granny really held her own in a sea of convicted felons, while just carrying a whistle, radio, handcuffs and a wonderful ink pen! Ahhhh, memories!

This tendency to keep every scrap of paper “just-in-case” spilled over into my personal life as well. It includes stacks and boxes of old letters and birthday cards, receipts, annual planners, savings account passbooks, and modern-day copies of emails, etc.

The most recent thing I added to that stack of personal paperwork was 36 or so pages of email that went back and forth between Fly Boy, Fall Girl and myself over that 2 day period in early September in which we became officially “estranged.”

For the first few days after that situation, I reread the entire exchange, word-by-word-by-horrific-word, over and over again. It was full of blame, full of…..he said, she said, I said, what I did or didn’t do, what they did or didn’t do, what they thought, what I thought, and a play-by-play reenactment of what lead up to the drunken episode involving my 16 year old and everything just beyond.

In addition to rereading it, I took it the stack of paper with me as I met with close friends and told them of the situation. “Look at this!” I’d cry! “Can you believe how horrible this is?” “Would you ever think of doing something like this to someone you supposedly LOVE?” I’d ask.

I was anxiously trying to rally support and comfort from those I knew loved “poor, poor, pitiful me,” but all it did was cause the situation to remain forefront in my mind. Holding on tightly to the “memorandum” of that horrific occasion was making it impossible for me to crawl outta my sickbed, and get on with the business of living. That stack of angry, hurtful words would lay next to me on my bed so I could review it between sobs and feel victimized several times a day. Life as I knew it was over and I had the documentation at hand to prove it!

Then I found Al-Anon! Through their teachings, I realized that I actually had to take responsibility for my part in the situation and admit that I had shortcomings that I needed to work on. I was storing up grievances, perceived slights, indignities and resentments due to my co-dependency issues. I was focusing on others, instead of my self, which added to my feelings of resentment. While it would have been wonderful to place total blame on the alcoholics and addicts in my life; my reactions, inaction(s), attitude and controlling behavior certainly added to my problems with those I love.

With self-control and a change of attitude, and a new focus in life, I’ve realized I don’t want to keep the memos, or the email…. any longer. While straightening up in my room, I found that stack of paper on the floor, where it fell off my bed. I picked it up and put it in the shred pile as I don’t want to dwell on such negativity anymore.

I want to continue to learn to free my mind from painful thoughts and emotions and live the best life I can. Saving a copy of the memo will just allow those painful memories to come to the surface, each time I come across it. So...it's out of here and just to make it official......

Effective immediately: Lisa is no longer saving copies of any memorandums!! And...I am cleaning out the file cabinet!

Yankin' Her Covers in the ER........

"They're tryin' to make me go to rehab, I say 'No, No, NO!'"

That's the Adult Woman Child on Halloween, portraying Amy Winehouse, a troubled, drug addicted popstar, who sings the hit song, Rehab and Mother Merry Margarita, lecturing her about her wicked ways! While we took this photo in fun....it's all pretty accurate. Sad. Yet accurate.

Just so you don't think I have totally given up all the dirt on my dysfunctional family right here in this new blog in these few entries...please know that I've shared my life's stories and stuggles right along in my journals, and they were routinely read by my entire immediate and extended family for several years.

Perhaps, they think I quit writing since my AOL journal was no longer being updated regularly and maybe they forgot about it. And as such, in this transition, I've not shared info about the move to Blogger in an effort to really examine my own personal struggles of late-with those I dearly love. Even if they DID read what I now write, none of this would come as a shock and it's my perception of what I see going on around me, and again, pretty damn accurate in my humble opinion.

Soooo, now that the disclaimer has been included...here's the story.

People watchers and writers can get an amazing amount of stimulation and fodder for blogs in the Emergency Room of their local county hospital on a Saturday evening. Being both......I hit paydirt. I didn't know so much of the people watching would occur in the hospital bed at my immediate left!

After about 3 days of complaints regarding chest pain, yesterday morning Tam decided she'd really like to go to the emergency room, as the 5mg Vicodin she's been "reduced" to taking 4X daily is "not touching" the pain she's experiencing in this episode of Pericarditis.

In essence, her new doctor...compliments of our county's Medically Indigent Adult program, has recently reduced her previous daily amount of pain-killer in half. This has not made her very happy and she's admittedly resorted to staying very close to those in her circle who can supplement her supply.

For clarification, she has been in rehab several times for abuse of her pain meds of which she was prescribed 180 LORTAB at a time from Dr. Feelgood for many years. After her rehab, that he sent her to for not taking the meds as prescribed, he'd give her another bottle of 180 pills to try again! Not very smart or professional in my book. Additionally, Tam would never stay on the morphine pain patches as prescribed by the pain control specialists, as they simply didn't "do it" for her.

Pericarditis is very serious and it can be extremely painful. It is basically inflammation and fluid in the sac that surrounds the heart, and for some unknown reason, Tam gets it fairly often. For years, she's been treated for joint pain and inflammation throughout her body, which was thought to be Lupus. Now the doctors are discounting that previous diagnosis and hopefully they will ultimately diagnose what's happening. They're working on it and, considering the fact that they are "giving" her this health care until she decides to apply for SSDI, I am pretty damn impressed with the care and tests she's receiving.

So after a day of being wishy-washy about whether or not she's feeling bad enough to take the 45 mile trek down the mountain for medical care, she decides she must go and tells me to give her a 10 minute warning as to when I am actually ready to leave. I put on a little face paint and give her the 10 minute warning she's requested. One minute before I am ready to leave, she asks if we can go "tomorrow" instead. This does NOT make me happy and I force the issue. No, I said..."Enough, we're going!"

Someone has to be the responsible adult.

Geez.

Down the mountain, we discuss the fact that considering her history of pericarditis, they will probably see her right away. Wrong.

After going the gauntlet of a pan-handler, smokers and extremely scary-looking individuals; many on their last legs, at the entrance of the ER...we make our way inside about 5:00 pm. I make a comment about how I can't even go to the damn emergency room without being hustled for change and wonder why that one wasn't working the local Wal Mart parking lot like the rest of them. Probably too much competition. Doesn't she realize people that frequent the County Hospital's ER don't HAVE any "spare change?" They're POOR for God's sake. It's clear she didn't look at Tam close enough, because she's so skinny it looks like we don't have enough money to put food on the table, so how in the world would WE have spare change?

Looks like this is on the way to being a novella. Still with me?

So, Tam fills out the papers for Triage and within an hour, she's in the Triage room. Swell, things are moving right along. We're sent back to the waiting room to sit among the walking wounded. There's the woman with a possible broken leg, the crying feverish babies, the man with an incredibly abscessed tooth as evidenced by his grotesquely swollen face; that later requires surgery, victims of car accidents, assorted lacerations, and painful hernias and the two very affectionate gay guys, who tell Tam that they have both have AIDS but one is having severe complications.

The guy with the hernia went out to smoke with Tam and told her he was so tired of waiting that he was going home to call an ambulance. Trying to work the system, like many.....but I doubt it worked well there. Ask Tam!

A couple of hours later, we're called in to the back. I got excited thinking we were actually going into the ER, however, it was just the registration. As Tam is being registered, she proceeds to tell the young clerk how much pain she's in and how it's her "heart" and the lady tells her that maybe she should return to Triage and suggest they give her an EKG. Which Tam does immediately, and it does not make the Triage people happy that the admitting clerk is making medical recommendations. However, they appease Tam by giving her an EKG and because it shows ABNORMAL they calm down a bit, but they return her to the waiting room for punishment anyway.

So, about 3 hours after our arrival they call us into the back and put us in a room in the "Tot's and TWATS" section! I am not kidding. The nurse, a "Traveling nurse from Louisiana" tells us that the entire section of private rooms we're in is called the "Tot's and Twats" section due to the quiet rooms with special beds for female exams and the obvious need for more than just a semi-sheer curtain separating you from the convict and his guard in the next bed in the 'other' part of the ER. That makes Tam feel pretty special. And...the nurse goes on to tell us all kinds of personal stuff about her life, such as she's a smoker too, to which Tam relates and Tam decides she's going to be this nurse's NEW BFF!!

After Tam gives her extensive medical history to the nurse (and I mention the part Tam hates.."ummmm BTW, she's addicted to her vicodin"), and an IV is established, and blood is drawn, the resident Doctor arrives.

She stood nearly 6' tall and looked like she was maybe 22 years old and she appeared to be about 7 months pregnant. I thought to my self.....OMG how could you get pregnant during your residency? and I later say..."I bet being pregnant during residency is tough!!" To which she replies, "Yes, it wasn't planned!" with a half-smile!

I then thought, what kind of doctor has an 'unplanned' pregnancy? But, Tam and I later speculated.... as she wasn't wearing a wedding ring, that it was probably one-night stand of incredible, passionate sex with a really hot, fellow med-student in one of the hospital's dark unused closets.

Once again, Tam provides her medical history to the Doctor and obviously omits the part about being addicted to vicodin. I dutifully provide that info to the good doctor much to the indignation of my daughter, who tells me to "Shut-Up Mom!" And..then she goes on to try to justify her addiction and she sweetly asks for "something for the pain!"

The doctor agrees, and says she's going to give her "morphine" and "toredol" (sp?) and Tam gratefully waits in anticipation. However, when Tam found out that they only gave her 6 mg of Morphine in her IV....she clearly states that "it's not going to do shit" and voices her displeasure to anyone who'll listen. She then graduates to "It's NOT doing shit!" But, has relaxed and does not appear to be in any obvious distress. I sit there quietly, and listen to my iPod, thankful for modern technology.

The Doctor returns with the ultrasound machine and takes a cursory look at Tam's heart and sees "a small amount of fluid" in the pericardium, but nothing alarming. While the test is taking place, Tam continues to make her discomfort known and I try to keep her mind off it by telling a story I just heard about one of Tam's high school girlfriends who is now making 60 bucks an hour as an ultrasound tech, "specializing in scrotums." To which Tam replies..."It figures...that WHORE!" as the doctor quietly chuckled!

The doctor leaves to get her "attending" to come check out Tam's heart for good measure. In the meantime the x-ray tech arrives and Tam tells her how much pain she's in and they head off for a quick chest x-ray. Tam obviously made friends with the x-ray tech as well because she then was off to tell the nurse about Tam's pain and returned with a warm blanket and the suitable amount of sympathy.

I begin saying the Serenity Prayer quietly.

The attending doctor arrives and does another cursory ultrasound and Tam again stresses how much pain she's in, but she does not apparently show the physical distress necessary for additional medication as it's only been two or so hours since the morphine was administered. The doctor makes the same conclusion as her resident doctor and says they are now just waiting on her "labs."

We wait, and wait. And wait some more! Tam becomes increasing agitated as staff seem to make themselves scarce. She wants a cigarette. She wants more pain medication. She asks to go to her car...and is denied exit. She demands to see her nurse. She walks the hallway complaining to anyone who has an ear. SHE HAS TO HAVE A CIGARETTE AND DAMN IT THIS IS A HOSPITAL NOT A PRISON. I sit and repeat the Serenity Prayer a few more times before getting a little more specific and saying "Help ME God!" over and over.

Finally the nurse who Tam considers her new BFF comes and drags her out for a cigarette and friendly chat and they return with a calmer patient, for awhile.

We wait some more. Tam has counted the time since her last pain medication and she's going on 4 hours and starts to squawk some more. She roams the hallway looking for her nurse who is NO longer her best friend as she's disappeared. She puts out an ALL POINTS BULLETIN with the ER staff for the nurse as she MUST have some pain meds. NOW. Of course, this has the opposite effect.

A new doctor, the 3rd one of the night, arrives to talk to Tam and he asks what she wants for discharge. She explains she wants PAIN MEDS now and for her discharge, and explains that they "normally give her an anti-inflammatory, something for PAIN, and prednisone."

Quite a bit of time goes by and no one is in the immediate area and they are obviously not bringing Tam any pain medication! So she resorts to walking the hallway again, searching for staff. She finds the 3rd doctor who said.."No one's given you anymore pain medication?" as if he's ordered it and they just haven't got to it. Tam is still indignant at their "incomptence" but continues to remain somewhat in control of her emotions.

As do I. Well, except for when I verbally expressed my shock at her flipping off the doctor behind his back.

About 45 minutes later, her nurse; the former BFF arrives and is clearly irritated, most likely hearing how Tam's been behaving in her absence the last few hours. She announces how busy she's been and how the Doctor said she absolutely could NOT have anymore pain medication. However, Tam's got ammo for her since that Dr. recently acted surprised she hadn't received it yet. Former BFF nurse stomps off to research it and claims the doctor put his order for the medication in the wrong place, so it wasn't her fault! She then administers Tam "toredol" instead of the morphine she was expecting and provides Tam with her discharge paperwork including a prescription for 800 mg. Ibuprofen!!!

It went downhill from there.

I quietly said the Serenity Prayer AGAIN, while Tam carried on to an EX BFF Nurse, who said that she was displaying "DRUG SEEKING BEHAVIOR" and that the Doctor was doing the right thing. Tam demanded to see the doctor and he also said she was displaying "DRUG SEEKING BEHAVIOR" and the EX BFF Nurse chimed in and said, "Anyone who admits to me that they managed to get ahold of morphine yesterday to self-medicate is obviously someone who's in trouble with drugs!" Apparently Tam shared that juicy tidbit with her BFF nurse when they went out to smoke, never thinking it would be used AGAINST HER! TRAITOR!

The doctor then went on to say that he was concerned about her becoming one of the junkies he's treating in the other side of the ER and that while he's reluctantly going to give her 20 LORTAB for this specific episode of pain, he's going to dictate in her chart that she's a DRUG SEEKER, so it doesn't happen again.

After she got her prescription, she was still irate with the doctor for not seeing things her way and I decided to head out the ER door when the getting was good. About 15 minutes later, someone finally let her out and she was still expressing her outrage and how she'd never set foot in that hospital again.

It was a quiet ride home this MORNING and we arrived about 3:30 am before setting the clocks back. I am hoping during that quiet time she was reflecting on her behavior. I certainly was.

But, in addition I was reflecting on mine, with amazement and gratitude. I love Al-Anon!

Blogger's Community Photo Challenge-Autumn

My old AOL journal friend; Marie asked me to join in the Blogger's Community Photo Challenge, so this is my first entry for the Autumn theme. This was taken on the Smith River, in Northern California at the end of August, just as the leaves were starting to change. This particular leaf caught my eye, due to the color contrast against the river's stone banks. I've entitled it, A Hole in My Heart . Some of you who read my journal may have already seen this in another post as I used it in an entry the other day. To the new people who may stop by to view it when I link it to the Photo Challenge, I say WELCOME! I am looking forward to meeting more friends that enjoy photography as well as blogging!

Lisa

Mother Merry Margarita says..........

Have a safe, responsible and Happy Halloween!!




"Many are saved from sin by being so inept at it."

~Mignon McLaughlin

The Illusion of Control

“We fooled ‘em again!”




As a young, fairly new and still naïve Correctional Officer, I headed out the prison’s main gate with my more experienced partner at the end of our 3-11 shift, when he uttered the words; tongue in cheek, “We fooled ‘em again!”

His explanation made such perfect sense to me in my career, that I’ve never forgotten the wisdom that he shared with me. He said, “You don’t really think we’re in control here, do you? It’s all an illusion. It’s like this…. the inmates let us ‘think’ we’re in control. Of course, any second, like someone striking a match, this place could blow!”

Perhaps we as new recruits were taught that concept during training in our academy; I really can’t remember as there was so information much pumped into us during that time. But, the real lessons came with actual ‘real life’ prison experience. In fact, our instructors warned us that the “old timers” would tell us to “forget everything” we learned in the academy. While that wasn’t actually totally true, as we carried our basic book lessons, correctional law, procedures and practical applications with us on the job, we really did get trained by the more experienced staff, and sometimes the inmates……on-the-job. Mostly with the inmates, it was trial and error. You know the “Hmmm…that didn’t work so good, so next time I think I’ll do this…or that!”

It was all a game. We acted “as if” we were in control and they let us think we were in total control. The smartest and most effective correctional staff were the ones who knew the truth. The least effective and most problematic staff were those who tried to “prove” they were in control, usually by force.

I don’t know why I was so able to grasp the “Illusion of Control” concept in my work and why up until now, I couldn’t see what was happening in my personal life. It seems so simple really.

In the book, Codependent No More, by Melody Beattie, she writes; in part, “Control is an illusion. It doesn’t work. We cannot control anyone’s compulsive behaviors. We cannot (and have no business trying to) control anyone’s emotions, mind or choices. We cannot control the outcome of events. We cannot control life.”

She continues, “People ultimately do what they want to do. They feel how they want to feel or how they are feeling; they think what they want to think; they do the things they believe they need to do; and they will change only when they are ready to change. It doesn’t matter if they are wrong and we’re right. It doesn’t matter if they are hurting themselves. It doesn’t matter that we could help them if they’d only listen to and cooperate with us. IT DOESN’T MATTER, DOESN’T MATTER, DOESN’T MATTER.”

And, the part that really hit home….“We cannot change people. Any attempts to control them are a delusion as well as an illusion. People will either resist our efforts or redouble our efforts to prove we can’t control them.”

Arrrrgggggh! Why didn’t someone teach me that tool for my personal life a long time ago!!! Why? Why? Why?

The author then relates a story about detachment in which she heard some wisdom “out of the mouth of babes.” She said sometimes her youngest son, Shane, hangs on too tightly and too long after a hug. He starts tipping her over and she’ll lose her balance and then becomes impatient for him to stop the hugging. Then she’ll start to resist, even though she thinks he’s doing all this, trying to get her to stay close a little longer. One night, when her daughter witnessed this, she became frustrated and impatient with her brother saying, “Shane, there comes a time to let go!”

After all of the recent hard knocks, I finally began to understand that we all would like to think that we have total control of our lives. It’s all an illusion, really. We can only control ourselves and our responsibilities.

I’ve let go. I’ve detached. I have stopped the insanity of trying to control what is or is not going on in my household or with others with whom I am close, and it has had an amazing effect. Much of the resistance has stopped and as Tam says, “It’s like a dark cloud has lifted off our home.” Letting go and Letting God is my new mantra and life is unfolding as it should.

And…to think all this time, I had that ol’ prison guard attitude that I was “really fooling them” when in reality, I was only foolin’ myself!

Thankful Thursday

A few of the blogs I follow are participating in Thankful Thursday by creating an entry specifically about what they are grateful for, so I thought I'd play along starting today......

I am sooooo thankful for..............

1. A teenager ASKING and willing to actually work for some spending money today! Now that's something to be thankful for, I'll tell you! The bonus for me...the furniture is dusted, the carpet is vacuumed and the entryway is presentable for tomorrow's Trick or Treaters!

2. The teenager's handy-dandy boyfriend who just fixed two of my lamps that were cock-eyed!

3. The fact that the adult woman-child is taking more responsibility for her life and business, since Mom has lovingly detached! Who knew!? LOL!

4. My friend Chuck who inspired me to consider another way of writing.

5. My new Blog at Blogger, which is way better than anything AOL every did for us anyway!

6. Having one of my photographs published in the Capture Music City photo project! Foggy Morning on the Cumberland was one of 22, 619 photos submitted for the fine art, coffee table book, and my photo taken at my Tennessee condo was one of only 221 that made it to publishing! I am officially a "published photographer!" That's the photo above!

Life keeps getting better and better!

Just One Little Push!

Y'see, madness, as you know…..is like gravity. All it takes is a little push.

~The Joker in the Dark Knight



The Scream-Painted by Edvard Munch


Like certain songs that can imprint a particular event or time in our lives and hearing the melody will bring back old memories; my slips further into darkness can be tied to significant adult life stressors. You know the kind of stuff mentioned on the Holmes-Pahe Life Stress Inventory…the decay and ultimate dissolution of my teen marriage, the illness and subsequent death of my closest sibling, promotions in my career, FOUR TEENAGERS, more and more and more deaths of immediate family members, retirement, in-law problems, etc. I guess I just have never been very good at handling those things, despite some very heroic efforts on my part.

It was this last little push that put me over the edge into the darkest despair I’ve ever experienced. Madness. Pure and simple.

I was significantly suicidal and would have likely carried out the act, if it wasn’t for a small measure of guilt that popped up in my misfiring brain, which caused me to feel somewhat sorry for the ones who’d have to clear out the cluttered remnants of my shattered life. However, the other side of me; where the devil resides on my right shoulder-also took some wonderfully perverse pleasure in the thought of inflicting that overwhelming chore on those loved ones who currently don’t give a rat’s ass about their living conditions. It would serve them right! Hmmmm. What to do, what to do?

The reason for this horrific despair? Well, it was what happened AFTER another exciting episode this Summer in the ongoing saga of drugs and alcohol involving my offspring. Offspring as in plural. Suffice it to say that EVERY one of my children have some issues with substance abuse, whether or not they choose to recognize it as a problem. One thing I know. I have a problem with their drug/alcohol use/abuse, so I look at it as if they have a problem. Makes sense to me. As Dr. Phil would say, maybe to all of us, “How’s that working for ya?”

Long story short; Abbie nearly died of alcohol poisoning one night at a huge party we attended at Fly Boy’s house. I’m talking unconscious, not responding to pain stimuli, shallow insignificant breathing, etc. with a blood alcohol content of .227 at the hospital….after the paramedics, the ambulance ride and her mother’s desperate hysteria at the possibility of losing another loved one to death. But, according to Fly Boy and Fall Girl, it was the “embarrassment and humiliation” they experienced as a result of the episode that was the worst part.

I don’t want to discount my parental responsibility in this episode, and in hindsight maybe, considering her past behavior, I shouldn’t have allowed her to attend this party of over 100 people with free-flowing alcohol, food and good country music attended by family, friends and Fly Boy’s co-workers. However, never in my life would I think she would risk indulging in alcohol with me in such close proximity.

Silly me.

There again, my son…must take some responsibility in the matter as well, considering when it all came out in the wash…it turns out HE gave Abbie her first drink of the evening. In my book, a tacit….wink, wink……cool ADULT big brother move. A “just be good and stay away from mom if you drink” type approval. I dunno…I just can’t see it any other way.

So, it was the aftermath of this horrific episode that was the just the push I needed to plunge me into the abyss. Fly Boy and Fall Girl elected to “create some distance” between our two families due to the “toxic” nature of our relationships, my serious codependency and depression and a whole list of other stuff that they added to the mix, which included….. preventing me from seeing the one person with whom I experienced profound love and joy….my two year old grandson.

This was someone I saw on a regular basis, having bought a condo in Tennessee just so I could visit every 6-8 weeks. Since his birth, he was the light of my life. While my life didn’t totally revolve around him as I was pretty preoccupied with my own immediate problems, he played a significant role in keeping me sane as a result of my restorative trips to see and play with him.

I think they found it to be an intervention of sorts.

I found it cruel, unfair, heart-breaking and downright despicable. Unthinkable. Unbelievable. Unloving. Well, you get the picture, I’m sure. They did this while telling me what a great mom, grandmother and person I am, but requiring “change.” Unspecified change, without measure or specific goals for me to meet. What the HELL??

I probably I wore them out begging for something to hope for during our email exchanges as eventually they just said, “Refer to” Fly Boy’s “original email” and then all contact ceased.

As Marcel Proust said, “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new landscapes but in having new eyes.” As I crawled from the abyss, with the help of Al-Anon, I have new eyes and a fresh outlook on life. I am putting first things first. ME.

I am taking care of me and seeking restoration of my sanity. A new and improved reality that I am creating; choosing to see things differently with those new eyes. No longer am I the victim. No longer can I attempt to control what others choose to do or say, or how they see the world. No longer will I try to force my will on others. They can all walk their own path in life, despite what I think or feel. I am learning to carefully examine my motives, decisions and attitudes. Most importantly, I am learning to mind my own business and setting boundaries. I am forgiving others who have injured me and working hard at not judging others, lest I be judged.

I am finally coming to terms with what I can’t change and moving beyond the past episodes of my life that I nearly let destroy me. I am living, loving and learning with hope for a better life.

And…I'm praying. For the first time in my life…I pray, understand and seek solace in this prayer……………..

Everything but love............

“Ever’thing there is but lovin’ leaves a rust on yo’ soul.”
~Langston Hughes

Yesterday, a friend; who’s an incredibly gifted writer, suggested that I take some of the quotes that I collect and expand upon them in my writing by illustrating their influence in my life‘s journey or by sharing experiences that I‘ve had which caused me to know the wisdom contained in that quote. I think that in my writing up to this point, I’ve done quite the opposite in searching for a quote that fits what I’d just written. Today marks the first day of doing what he suggests and the quote above is one that touched my heart this morning while reading the book, Courage to Change-One Day at a Time in Al-Anon II, a book of daily meditations.

My soul is weathered, rusty and insulated; struggling to break free of the corrosion, as if a mechanic were trying to loosen a rusty nut from an orange-crusted old bolt.

If we could compare the soul to iron or steel for example, the lack of love in one’s life, the.... “ever‘thing there is but lovin‘…..…like exposure to just air and water….will cause our souls to rust. And we all know that rusting has a number of effects on metal objects…it makes them weaker, replacing the once strong iron or steel with flaky powder.

Rust can slowly eat away at even the biggest piece of iron, breaking down once strong structures, leaving them with gaping holes. If our souls are like magnets, drawing the goodness of life and love to us, the rust will cause the magnet to not work as well. Since rust is an insulator, it will prevent the soul from conducting the magnificent electrical energy of love and zest for life.

On my spiritual journey, I am now aware of how the lack of love in my life has rusted my old soul. I am not just speaking of romantic love, but also the lack of love for one’s self due to a variety of reasons but mostly the overwhelming lack of self-esteem, deprivation of unconditional love as a child, or even fear-based misconceptions of a “loving” God. And…we can’t forget choices. The choices we make and where they lead us….many times away from love, the pure love and light that we are meant to experience on this journey called life.

My late Mother was suffering from her own demons when she brought 6 children; from at least 4 different troubled men into this world. Why would she bring that many children into the world when she had such a difficult time loving and caring for them? I don’t know. I don’t understand. I don’t know what caused that beautiful, but obviously insecure young woman to choose her path in life. But, now I have an idea.

In the book Conversations with God, authored by Neale Donald Walsh, God says “All human actions are motivated at their deepest level by one of two emotions-fear or love. In truth, there are only two emotions-only two words in the language of the soul.” He says, “Every human thought, and every human action, is based in either love or fear. There is no other human motivation, and all other ideas are but derivatives of these two. They are simply different versions---different twists on the same theme.”

I believe she was afraid. Maybe she feared being alone in life. She obviously didn’t love herself and she sought physical and maybe false “romantic” love as the answer. Time and time again she was thumped on the head with messages from the universe-often in the form of a demanding child and she just couldn’t see what was happening. I don’t think she ever tried to twist that tightly rusted nut on the stubborn bolt of her soul before she died too young at the age of 58, and that makes me sad. Very, very sad.

And, while I certainly had more than my share of a troubled childhood due to her poor choices, drug abuse and child neglect, I realize I can’t change the past. But, unlike my mother, I can have hope for an incredible future. I am working really hard to loosen that rusty nut/bolt and free my soul via self-improvement and expanding my consciousness on a daily basis.

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross said, "The ultimate lesson all of us have to learn is unconditional love, which includes not only others, but ourselves as well.”

I want to love others unconditionally and I want to be loved the same, for the incredible being that I am. I know I am not perfect, but I am full of perfect love that I will share with others and I will benefit from theirs as well, if they choose to give. And...I am not afraid.

In closing...so that you don’t think I have gone all mushy on you and that I've written something without even a little bit of humor, I will leave you with this quote from the movie Juno………..it’s the just the kind of unconditional love I am looking for…someone who thinks the sun shines outta my ass!!!

Wish me luck!!

"Every now and again take a good look at something not made with hands--a mountain, a star, the turn of a stream. There will come to you wisdom and patience and solace and, above all, the assurance that you are not alone in the world."
~Sidney Lovett

I feel most alive when I am at one with nature. Photography is my latest passion and it allows me to take a good look at all that nature can offer and teach us. It grounds me and causes me to take a deep breath and be thankful for this human experience as a spiritual being!

Wishing you a beautiful Sunday full of wonder and gratitude!