Betwixt and Between...still

A bit of time has passed since the last time I blogged. Thanksgiving has passed and the Christmas season is shortly upon us. I've gotten little things done here and there...the firewood is in the house...though not stacked yet, my garden beds have been made ready for the spring, and I have finally found some regular employment...part time and not in the environmental field but it is a job. For all of this, I am grateful.

Yet, there is still that small voice inside saying, "This isn't isn't it." Of course, that annoying little voice doesn't tell me anything else. It merely leaves me with a sense of mild discontent. As if I'm stuck betwixt and between...knowing I can't go back and not knowing where to go from this spot in space and time. In general, it is an uncomfortable feeling. It is trying to sit in this place and be patient. For me, it is also a potentially dangerous place...If I linger in this state too long, the darkness encroaches too closely for my comfort.

There is perhaps a silver lining to be found in a quote I read today. It stated, "You can't get away from your path". So maybe, I won't have to sit here long before I can see where my next step will take me.

In the meantime, I'm going to spend more time writing. It is always better to get all of this out of my head than let it run amok inside me. So my goal for right now is to write for at least half an hour a night...here on my blog. Doing this forces me to think about what I'm thinking clearly. None of the going round and round that happens in my journal that no one else sees. Guess we'll see how it goes.

Sign of Hope

Most people who know me, know I have a thing for dragonflies. I have one tattooed on my right forearm. Dragonflies show up at import events, both for me and my friend Noreen. It is kind of a thing we have with our Dads and each other. My kids all say they know when they are being watched over by me when they see a dragonfly appear out of the blue. (Hey, if it keeps them on their toes and out of trouble, who am I to argue?)

I haven't had any of my usual unusual dragonfly sightings. Kind of par for the course of how things have been lately. Until today. Kristi and I had to go shopping. While in the Christmas ornament aisle, she suddenly said "There's something you have to get". It was a sparkly dragonfly ornament. There were ones in bright pink and blue and purple. And then, there was a single gold sparkly dragonfly ornament...the only one, sitting there waiting to be plucked off the hook. It quickly went into my shopping cart.

I'm taking its appearance as a sign that things are starting to look up, that there is hope. It is now hanging on the wall directly above my desk. I may not know what the future holds. I'm not sure about anything in my life right now, let alone in the future. At least now, when I'm feeling lost, I can look at my dragonfly to remind me, that someone, somewhere is looking out for me.

I give up!

So okay, the past few months have been fairly hellacious. Most of it has been beyond my control. I've gone with the flow. I've looked for the silver lining in the most difficult times. I've even accepted, grudgingly, that I'm working on developing patience and trust, neither being strong suits of mine. I haven't questioned (much) the Divine plan.

But come on already! (Yeah, I'm throwing the whole patience and not questioning thing right out the window for the moment) I'm starting to feel kind of like my friend Coyote. I just found out I didn't get the job I wanted. I'm not being considered again for another. Most of my life, especially some of my relationships, is a wreck. And I'm sick! I mean really?! Can't the Universe find someone else to pick on for a bit? Or if there is some lesson in all this...just tell me! Enough with being coy, you know it doesn't work with me.

Okay, so I am venting. I am grateful for a couple of crucial friendships. And for the few hours of work I do have. They are some of the few things sustaining me at the moment. I know things could be much worse (Don't even THINK about it...I've got enough to deal with already, thank you very much). I just want to be able to get on with my life. So, if there is anything else, can we just get it out of the way already? Please? (Yes, I know I'm asking for it, but maybe the shock will throw the Divine off guard? Okay, probably not. But dragging things out is going to make me really crazy, so what the hell~)

Dandelions

I realized today it has been awhile since I've blogged. Some of it is that not much has changed. Despite being fairly busy, I really haven't gotten anywhere. Apparently, I'm working on patience...not one of my better virtues. So in the meantime, I'm doing what I can, around very nasty headaches and waiting for what comes next, whatever that is.

One bright spot, strangely out of place and time is the dandelion growing on our side lawn. I noticed it yesterday, Halloween, while I was walking one of the dogs. A single, bright yellow dandelion growing happily in late October. Odd, yes?

I'm choosing to take it as a positive sign. In the language of flowers, these happy, little "weeds" stand for happiness, love and faithfulness. Not a bad omen. Personally, dandelions have always been one of my favorite flowers. (Yes, further proof of how truly touched I am, I know.) They are bright and soft and can grow in the most difficult of circumstances. Is it really any wonder I loved them as a child? Plus, when they transformed to seed, they became my first magic wands. I learned to make a wish by blowing upon dandelion seeds long before I learned to make a wish with daisies.

So maybe instead of working on patience (cause really, we are talking about me here) I will focus on the enduring, gently toughness and faithfulness of the dandelion. I like that much more.

Finally!

It is a gorgeous Indian Summer day today. I had already cleaned out my clothes drawers...mainly because having to look at clothes that didn't fit me was starting to make me a little cranky. Once I finished that, I decided to test out my still tender toe to see if it could handle a light jog. I've been going stir crazy since I cracked it a couple of weeks ago. I've been wanting to start running again. I haven't been able to do any running for almost two years as a result of plantar fascitis. Between that, likely the antidepressants I was on, and a stress induced bad diet, I've gained weight, which has been making the rest of me hurt. Now that I'm off medication, running...or something equally as physical is necessary on a daily basis to keep my brain stable. (Shut Up Rowan!)

It is just too nice out today to resist giving it a try. At worst, I figured it would hurt too much and I'd have to settle for a walk. I took Echo along; one for extra resistance, and two because he needs to burn off the extra frenetic energy, just like me. (He is currently snoring in his kennel...he's a wuss). The jaunt was only 20 minutes, but I managed 3 good runs on different surfaces. My toe did fine. It is a little sensitive, so I'll tape it up next time for more stability. The rest of my body is kinda like "What the hell...". My brain is very happy...it doesn't take much for me to get the runner's high going.

So now, I can start running on a regular basis. I'm going to start making a better effort to eat healthier, you know actual real food. I've added water back into daily consumption (separate from my coffee intake) and I'm eating yogurt and walnuts and such again. I've made a deal with myself that if I do some kind of serious exercise at least 5 times a week, I can have a really sinful mocha from Panera's on the weekend. In the meantime, no more mochas at home...caffeine intake has to start coming back down. (No, I won't give it up entirely yet). Hopefully all this will one, keep my brain stable and two, let me get back into shape.

In the meantime, woooohooo, I could run today!

Grabbing a Coyote by the tail...

A littel bit of chaos is a good thing. Really it is.... Okay, so I tend to like chaos more than your average person. Well maybe like is to strong a word. Let's just say I'm really good manuevering amidst chaos. There have been many a day I've wished I was organized and disciplined...usually when I'm pulling an all-nighter in order to finish a paper on time. But, that's just not me. Sigh.
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I have learned a neat trick about chaos though. It is absolutely necessary to create any kind of order. Yep, that's me, your Paradox Girl. But its true! For example, my room/office has been a disaster for months. From the time grad school ended through to recently, everything has been a mess. As I've mentioned, my life of late has been a bit of a train wreck...or at least felt like it. (But that is a blog for another time) I finally decided to get it in order so things would be a little easier for me to manage (Frightening I know). But to do so, I had to take the chaos that existed, blow it up and then create something out of it.

The result...a nice, tidy, somewhat (okay, it is ME we are talking about here) organized bedroom/office/studio. You can even see the floors! There is of course still more chaos to tame. I have files from grad school to go through...deciding what to keep, what to recycle. Not to mention my clothes to sort through or my books to get in order. But all in all, things are much calmer in my space. With any luck, the calm will translate to me being able to sleep better at night (or at all).

So the grand cosmic lesson in all this...a little chaos can be a good thing. You have to have the courage to face it though. If you don't, it runs amok with fears, doubts and their ilk, creating all sorts of messes. So much better to grab the Coyote by the tail and create something better of your own design.

Making Wishes

I laughed when I found this picture online. I've always said training to be a faerygodmother begins early, especially when you have as many godchildren as I do...I'm not even sure how many I have. All I know is the number keeps growing and now also includes kittens and a very adorable Aussie puppy. (Don't laugh, they are easier than teenagers).
Despite various challenges, all my kiddos have good hearts...even though I'm still waiting for a couple to start using their brains...but I have faith it will come in time.
The other day it occurred to me I've been doing more time with the Cinderella routine (I was literally cleaning ashes out of the house hearth) than I have been being a Faerygodmother (this weekend excluded of course). So I thought to myself, as I was doing dishes and scrubbing floors, does this mean I get to have a faerygodmother of my own? Probably not, though if I do, she is out in Oregon so that doesn't really work. So, what does this mean?

Well, I guess it means I have to grant my own wishes. I think I've always known that. After all, my favorite childhood rhyme was Star light, Star bright...Of course to grant my own wishes, I have to figure out what I wish for upon the first evening star. So tonight, that is what I'm mulling over...what are the truest wishes in my heart? And then the catch, to remember to wish for the courage to go after them.

Troubled Heart and Mind

I've been trying to get back into the normal swing of things...housework, cutting firewood, baking, job searching, etc. On the surface, I'm doing okay. I do miss Dad and I do have my moments. But mostly I'm okay. I just look at the prayer card from his service. Under his picture it says, "I'm fine, gone home, love and God bless" All things Dad said to us all, especially in the last few days. It makes me smile because I know it's true and that he's happy.

I knew with his passing it was likely things with some people in my family would deteriorate. Most of you know enough to know my relationship with my mother is shaky at the best of times, as is the relationships with my half-siblings. I have learned to distance myself from as much of the drama as possible for my own sanity. (Yes, I mean that quite literally, just ask anyone who has known me more than ten years). It is ironic that I had a better relationship with Dad, despite a very rocky beginning. For his sake, I've made an effort with the rest of the family. I figured at least I could keep the peace, even when it meant keeping my mouth shut (okay, I would vent to friends after). I continued to do so to a point the past few months (okay, so I'm not always great at keeping my mouth shut). But whatever decisions people felt they had to make, I went along with it.

Despite my best efforts, things are going south quicker than I thought they would. Some of it is typical to long established family patterns. I've gotten few metaphorical kicks to the gut, but with the support of some friends, I got through it. But the last one is one I'm not sure I can get past. I was somewhat dreading the actual committal service at the cemetery. I have a love/hate thing going on with the military rites. It is an important honor to bestow and at the same time, it is a reminder of Daddy. Bittersweet at best. I had prepared myself for it and for dealing with some people who I'd rather not deal with. I arrived early at St. Pat's so I could take flowers to Daddy's grave before the ceremony. Imagine my surprise to see the American Legion members leaving.

It seems the ceremony was moved up an hour. No one, namely my mother, called to tell me. No one it seems noticed I wasn't there or called to see if I was coming. I missed the whole thing. Needless to say I was not happy. I left the pink rose for Dad, the red rose for Daddy, said hello and goodbye to family I do like and left. Quickly, because I knew I was on the verge of throwing a fit that would make my sister's (Liz, not Theresa) look mild. (And that is saying something) Kristi got the brunt of the reaction I couldn't control when I got home. At that point, I was mainly hurt. I buried the anger fast so I could process it under a controlled situation.

I wish I could believe my mother didn't do it intentionally. But after a few of the other slights over that week and a half, not to mention over my lifetime, I cannot seem to convince myself of it. I've been through this type of thing before with her. I haven't decided whether or not to call her on it. One, I'm still furious and I have a vile temper. I do not like to lose control of it because I know what I can be like. Two, I've been down this road before...my mother doesn't take responsibility for her actions when these things happen.

I don't know I have the energy, let alone the desire to go through this again. The funny thing is, if anyone understood how much energy having a relationship with my mother took, it was Dad. So for now, I will sit with it some more. Maybe something will come to me. Because honestly, at the moment, I'd like nothing better to walk away for good.

In Loving Memory

In Loving Memory of my dad, William L. McHugh

July 24, 1931-September 23, 2009

God's might to direct me

God's power to protect me

God's wisdom for learning

God's eye for discerning

God's ear for my hearing

God's word for my clearing

God's hand for my cover

God's path to pass over

God's buckler to guide me

God's army to ward me.

- From the Breastplate of St. Patrick

Really? Was this necessary?

So it appears the best laid plans can go right out the window in mere seconds. Apparently my coyote totem has come to play. My plan to start running again after Saturday no matter what my feet said has run into a rather painful snag... Not the fascitis, no that would have been expected. No, it had to be something way more creative than that.

I'm pretty sure I broke one of my toes this morning. Of course, clever me didn't really notice it until this evening. (No, I am not going to the hospital...unemployed and no insurance. I do not need a 4 hour wait, an x-ray and a doctor telling me there is nothing I can do but ice and ibuprofen) OK, yes I knew I had cracked it on something in the basement. (Yes I was barefoot at the time, no I'm not going to start wearing shoes around in the house, that would just be silly) However, I went about my business. I'm guessing it didn't hurt much because my cowboy boots were keeping the swelling down. At least until I had to take them off to change for work.Now my toe is swollen and a lovely shade of purple...sort of like my finger was last spring when I broke it. Needless to say, it hurts like hell too!

But I mean really? Was this really necessary? With all the other hits I've taken lately, with a fair amount of grace and patience, (OK it is subjective, like my state of sanity) it is not fair. Yeah, yeah, life's not fair. But, really? Come on, what does a girl have to do to catch a break around here? Sigh! I suppose it could have been worse...it could have been another flat tire.

Slow Return to Sanity

Don't get too excited, I haven't done any baking today. (Though I did start cutting up wood, does that count?) I am working from the laptop in the kitchen. Some of it is I'll doze off if I work from my bed...or worse, actually start to organize the chaos in there. (Ugh, the horror of it) Some of it is Jet is loose in the house, but must be monitored against her latest trick, which is stealing the cat food off the table (yes, this is a new trick after living here for two years. She is just that special).

I'm just killing time here. I have to be at Towle School to cover for an hour or so at the afterschool program. Then I have to teach tonight, my first night back since Dad died. It's hard to believe it has been a week already. Now I just have to get through Saturday morning.

Of course, I realized this morning while talking with Betsy, it's not the ceremony itself I'm dreading. I'm dreading being around particular family members. Just the ones who normally have the ability to drive me right over the edge with their behaviors. It is worse now that Dad is no longer there as the buffer. But it is only a short event. I will be there with others of my family I actually do like, and then Dad will receive the honors he earned as a veteran. That's what matters. For that, I can control my temper for a bit longer.

In the meantime, I'm laying groundwork for upcoming trainings and starting up the job search again. (See, only hiding under the rock when my relatives are around) Ugh. I've promised myself to get back to eating better after Saturday, including cutting back on my coffee intake. I'm also going to start running again, my feet will just have to deal, if for no other reason than running is one of the things that helps me stay sane. (Yes, I know, but remember it is my version of sane...it's way better than my level of insanity.)

Another day down

One more exhausting day done with. Because of family scheduling issues, there was a gap today between yesterday's calling hours and tomorrow's funeral mass. Yes, tomorrow is just the mass, though I suppose I can't say just. It will be a full Catholic funeral mass with all the bells and whistles at St. Patrick's in Newport, followed by a reception at Assumption Hall. Rumor has it the St. Pat's will be packed, something that usually only occurs at Christmas Eve and Easter Morning. I'm pretty sure Dad would be annoyed at all the fuss. He'd prefer to sit in the back left pew and contemplate the universe in peace.

Burial won't be until Saturday since Dad wanted to be cremated and his ashes buried with my brother Paul. I think I'm dreading that most of all since it will be with full military honors. Dad deserves them, though again I can hear him in the back of my mind complaining about all the fuss. I have a serious love/hate thing going with the military honors ceremony. Nearly forty years hasn't made hearing Taps easier or kept me from jumping out of my skin at the first volley of the 21 gun salute...even though I know it is coming.

I'm hoping to get some more sleep tonight. Last night's two hours of actual sleep were plagued with nightmares. I finally woke up enough to turn on my bedside lamp so I could go back to sleep. What can I say, the trick from my childhood to send nightmares away still works. I stayed up all morning baking. I made an excellently decorated apple pie...I'll post the picture later this week. It had pine trees and a deer. I made it special to make Matt and Jayme laugh, since it is bow season. I also made whole wheat cinnamon bread, and pumpkin muffins and corn bread. Did all the dishes, worked on some watercolor paintings...which will take a couple of days to finish. And then went to the family dinner. That is an experience in exhaustion all in itself. You'd think I'd be exhausted enough to sleep. But here I am typing away, listening to the rain fall.

Worse case scenario, I'll sleep all weekend while I house sit for friends out in the middle of no where. I can't wait. Just me, my sketch pad, the dogs (theirs, not mine) to watch over me and some much needed peace and quiet.

Awake at the witching hour

Certainly wasn't planning on doing any blogging for a bit. But it's the witching hour ( Dad would have all sorts of jokes for that one), there is a rain storm brewing outside and I cannot sleep yet again.

I had thought for sure that I would be so exhausted after today's calling hours, that I would fall fast asleep. No luck. Instead, I'm wide awake. Too tired to do anything constructive and too restless to settle down. Too many other emotions swirling around to even begin to make sense of any of it, some I just can't face head on yet. The only way to try to make sense of anything is to sit with my computer and write and cry.

To be honest, I wish it was noon on October 3rd. Then all the funeral services, family meals, etc would be over. I won't have to keep my mouth shut or be the one that is handling everything just fine (I know, only certain relatives are crazy enough to believe that one. Oh wait, forgot, they are that crazy. Yes that is a little bitchiness creeping out, they should count their lucky stars I could keep it under control with some timely intervention from my friends.) I am counting the hours until I can be left in peace to mourn my father and grieve again not being someone's daughter, not the way I got to be, at least for a little while.

A huge chunk of my life will cease to exist when this is over. At this point, precious little in my recent life is still intact, barring my true kinships...that's all that really matters. Every thing else is pretty much a crash and burn at this point. Like the phoenix on my back, maybe it is time to let most of it, or at least the things that break my heart, go up in the flames with the rest. (Figuratively, no house fires this time thanks). It's as good a time for a fresh start as any.

Answered Prayers

I did actually get an uninterrupted night's sleep, the first in weeks. Kristi woke me this morning to let me know my mom had called early this morning to let us know Dad passed quietly from this world around 2:30 this morning.

Today has been a whirlwind of making arrangements. My brother Matt is pretty sure the funeral home will close for vacation before having to deal with us again. What can I say, there were six of the seven of us kids there. Heaven knows Dad had trouble keeping us in line one on one. All of us together is a guarantee for there to be rabble rousing, mainly because we form our very own rabble.

Kristi made sure I had a healthy lunch though dinner consisted of chocolate cake and a Vitamin C supplement. (That is healthy, right?) I'm even drinking water as I type this, so Sparrow doesn't have to worry. Tomorrow will likely be a little less crazy. I plan to stay fairly close to home, get some stuff here caught up again and return friend's emails. And maybe start on my PhD program application...might as well let the current insanity work for me, right?

Ever feel like everything is spinning out of control around you? That's pretty much what the past couple of days have been like. Lots of waiting, some tears, some laughter. Amidst it all, I can't seem to find my balance. Of course it could be the result of severe sleep deprivation and excessive caffeine intake. It is quite possible I will never touch coffee again once this is all over.

Dad has been declining rapidly. He is no longer eating. He drinks very little. The nurses at DHMC removed the IV's yesterday. He is now on oral morphine, which made him pretty happy and chatty yesterday. He was talking with anyone who came in the room. At one point Father Chris, the hospital's chaplain came in to see him. After giving him communion, he spoke of how there were angels in the room with him. Dad smiled, looked at my Mom and I and said, "Yeah, but they're witches". Needless to say, Mom and I started to crack up. Later, Dad was saying how tough Bones was (my brother Nathaniel for those not in the know). I quipped, "Yeah he is, but he's funny looking too isn't he?", to which Dad smiled and said "Well yes". Nathaniel just gave me one of his "I am so not amused" looks...not that they have any effect on me. There are some other funny stories, but I'll save them for another time. I spent part of last night with Dad, as did my sister Theresa. Dad started to fade quickly last night.

He hasn't been able to call me by name for a couple of days, though he knew who I was. At least until today. He doesn't recognize anyone and is almost completely unable to communicate. The team at DHMC and my mother decided to move him to New London Hospital for hospice care since it's closer to home. I would have liked to have known about it before I went up this morning. I wasn't prepared to have to pack his room, or sign whatever papers. All of which I did. I will say, the nursing staff at DHMC are angels, as is the pastoral staff. The doctors? A few need to be slapped up side the head or given lessons on how to deal with people. (It's a long story)

That was bad enough, but my cell got turned off because I forgot to pay the bill. Then when I went to pay it, I locked myself out of my car. I had to call Kristi (good thing I just paid the bill) to go get my spare and bring it to me. I'm pretty sure I would lose my way if I had to go anywhere right now, which is why I plan to stay home. Of course, I think I could get lost in the house right now. I might even get some rest...I'm so tired at this point I'm wicked (yes I am from NH) slap happy. Just about anything will start me giggling until I'm crying. Kristi thinks it is pretty entertaining. Heaven knows our menagerie is strange enough to get me going at the drop of a hat. (For example, Esmerelda was watching NCIS with us...and here I thought she only liked to watch NASCAR)

At this point, I can only hope for some sleep and a phone call so I know Dad has passed peacefully into the next world.

Quick Update

I wanted to update real quick before I head out again this morning. Dad is still up at DHMC. The doctors have discontinued the antibiotics. His kidneys are failing. At this point they are giving him medications to make him comfortable. He sleeps a great deal, though he was awake and somewhat lucid for a good chunk of time yesterday. Right now we are just waiting. I was up there most of yesterday and I'm heading up again in a bit for the day. If you need to reach me, best to call me on my cell as I'm not sure when I'll be near my computer again.

For everyone who has been saying prayers for my Dad and the family, thank you. He is comfortable and at peace. We couldn't ask for more than that at this time.

A favorite prayer

I've come to accept that my life is going to be a train wreck for the next little while. Nothing to do but go through it. So for myself and everyone else out there who is also having a difficult time right now, I'm posting one of my favorite prayers by Thomas Merton. May it help you find peace.

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going.

I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end.

Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so.

But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.

I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.

And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it.

Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.

And again...

Another sleepless night seems to be upon me. Figured this time I would try to do something constructive in hopes of getting tired enough to get at least a couple hours of sleep later on. So rather than stay in bed and read myself into a stupor, I decided to get up and do my kitchen brownie routine.

The counters are clean, the sink is clear of dishes, the dishwasher is happily running and I have the dough for cinnamon bread rising on the counter. I contemplated making some pumpkin muffins but decided against it. I'm not sure I have enough brain focus left to make them. Maybe tomorrow.

Now I am tapping away on my keyboard. Note to self, remember to wipe the flour off before staring to type...and if you are wearing a black USMC shirt, don't wipe your hands off on it. Ooops! Can you tell I'm tired? I really would like to sleep. For once, my insomnia isn't caused by being over-caffeinated. As Rowan pointed out when I started baking at 10pm, I just won't let myself sleep right now. She's correct...I just can't. Of course she also pointed out that I cannot spend all day at the hospital. It's just too much. And I have to reluctantly agree.

The best and worst part of today was being alone with Dad in his room. He is lucid...it's just the light he's seeing isn't entirely from this world. He moves between praying to talking about who he's going to see on the other side. We did have a chance to talk, so there is nothing left unsaid. That made it all the more bittersweet. I seriously thought I was going to meltdown for good. Luckily for me I have wonderful people in my life to distract me, make me laugh and feed me (and I didn't even argue about eating either meal).

The wait is the hardest right now. And I've realized that though I'm the one with experience in losing a father, I'm now facing that loss for a second time. And at the moment, I don't have anyone to talk to who is a night owl like me but me. No wonder I can't sleep.

On the bright side? If anyone wants some kickass homemade whole wheat cinnamon bread, let me know. I've got plenty.

Sleepless night

I spent most of today at DHMC. Dad is seriously ill, to the point where he will not recover. We expect to meet with the entire team of doctors in the next day or so to discuss all the options for care as well as Dad's wishes as how to proceed.

Dad's wishes are clear. He is tired. He is ready to pass quietly from this world. His main fear is that he wasn't a good enough person in this world. He is also one of the best people I know. Not perfect certainly, despite being Irish. He is one of the few I have known to acknowledge his mistakes and apologize for them. His faith has always been amazing. Even now, he continues to pray for "those who are worse off than he is".

My wish on this sleepless night is for him to find peace in heart and mind so he may have a quiet passage from this world to the next.

Simple Blessings

For the past few months, I've been praying for some kind of guidance. With everything going on, I wanted to know what to do. Mainly because if I'm doing something (okay lots of things at the same time) I feel I have some control over the chaos. I know, I know, I should know better after all this time. I do. I merely forget sometimes. And it takes the proverbial smack upside the head to smarten me up again.

Maybe I'm getting wiser as I get older, (shut up Rowan). It may be all the prayers others have been saying for me lately (thank you by the way)finally got through. I actually got the message this time without getting hit in the head,literally or figuratively. ( The first person who marks this date on the calendar is in BIG trouble). Basically, things are arranged right now so I cannot DO anything.

Not that I get to sit around doing nothing. I'm accepting certain, okay a lot, of things are beyond my control. ( I heard that snickering you know) I'm still job searching, and I do have certain obligations to my loved ones. But right now, I can rest in simple things I don't usually have much time for...like writing my blog, my art work, making bread (good time to visit Nia), getting outside, and so on. I have the opportunity to cultivate some quietude and serenity amidst all the craziness going on in the rest of the world. And for once, I'm okay with it.

"Let Nothing Disturb You"

This is a picture of the Atlantic Ocean from my favorite perch (literally) in Maine. Sorry, not telling where it is. It is the one place I can go that no one know where it is. Plus, my cellphone doesn't work there, so I am officially unreachable when I am there.

It is where I go, at least during non-tourist season, to get away, think,write and re-group. I miss it very much at the moment. I hope to get up there for a few hours soon. In the meantime, I have to rely on pictures.

I've been looking at the photos a lot lately. Things are stressful for me, but I can deal. I may not like it, but it is what it is. What is worse is the number of people either I know or people close to people close to me (did that make sense? If so, you might want to be a little afraid, you're starting to understand my train of thought) have received some kind of really bad news. Layoffs, major health issues, etc. It seems to be everywhere.

Because of stuff in my own life, I've been searching for bits and pieces to give me some support getting through it. I've given up praying to be at peace with it all. I mean really, me peaceful? Trying for that has only left me more frustrated. Instead, I'm asking for courage and endurance. Seems to fit my personality better. Damn, almost lured of track by sneaky tangents. Back into the desk drawer with all of you!

Anyways, I was thinking of how I put out prayer requests for those I know who are in need. But maybe we all need a little more right now, maybe a little smidge of grace (please note the lower case "g", I don't want to find smidges of my friend Grace anywhere), or inspiration or whatever you want to call it. Just a collection of things to help all of us get through either our own stuff or to pass along to someone we love. I figure I will start it as an experiment here and see what happens.

So here is my thought to all of you, if you have bits of prayer, pictures, snippets of poetry you would like to share, please do. Even song cues... ( I KNOW I am going to regret that one considering how many of my near and dear thrive on sudden bursts of song...sigh) You can either add them into the comments, email me through the link below or to one of my other email addresses if you have that. I will turn them into blog bits, etc. to share with everyone. Add any prayer requests as well. I'll add them to my list...which is getting tackled daily lately.

I actually started kind of with the title of this post. It is from the first line of a prayer from Saint Teresa of Avila. The first part, which I pray on a regular basis, goes like this:
"Let nothing disturb you, let nothing frighten you..."

Happy Birthday Jet

Today is Jet's 3rd Birthday! Kristi made her a special doggy birthday cake, with candy bone sprinkles. We left off the candles, she'd only try to eat them. A lot of people thought she'd never make it to 3. Jet came to us with a ton of issues. Most people thought we were crazy. (Not that we aren't...normal is boring). With time, work, a lot of love and a little medication, she is slowly turning into a normal beast. Well, as normal as anyone is this household ever gets. Above is a picture of me showing her her cake. She was very excited.

Happy Birthday Jetsam!

Echo's Big Adventure

Around our house, Echo, our lab/pitt mix pup, is generally viewed as the "good dog", well by Kristi anyways. Some of that is his behaviors are caused by the fact he is still a puppy. Some of it is while he's not the brightest of dogs at times, is cute in a dopey sort of way. Today is an example of why.

Kristi took him out this morning. She is trying to train him to be off leash, so he had on the training collar. Normally, he'd do what he needed to and come in to go back to bed like any other Sunday. Except today there was another dog in the neighborhood. The black shepard mix obviously belongs to someone...he had a collar and tags. Apparently he left his owners at home . As he went through our yard, Echo decided to follow, trying to get him to play. And off they went. Out of the yard, down the street and away. One problem with an electric training collar...they have limited distance at which they are effective. (Though if it had been Jet, she wouldn't have even noticed being zapped, plus she would have tried to kick the other dog's butt for being in her yard - can you tell she's my dog?)

Kristi tried to catch him, but when that failed she came to wake me up to help. Have I ever mentioned, I don't wake up easily? Especially since you cannot shake me awake without risking getting punched? Once I was up, we both took our cars to see if we could spot the dogs anywhere in the area. We circled a couple of times, checked back at the house, got Tasha from next door looking, called the Animal Control folks, etc. At one point, I dropped the car back home and took to looking on foot, passing out business cards with my cell phone number on it to anyone who might come across the mutt.

This kept up for hours! I finally stopped to eat, took information on Echo to the police department, and took to looking again. Kristi finally flagged me down on one pass. Sitting happy as can be in the passenger seat was Echo. Apparently, he got lost a few streets up from us. Luckily for him, he is cute. Cute enough that someone let him into their house, gave him love and attention and shelter for most of the 4 plus hours he was missing. Kristi passed the house and saw him playing with his new human friend. As soon as she got out of the car, he ran over and jumped on her, all happy to have been found.

He was no worse the wear for his adventure. He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed of himself. I'm fairly certain he has no idea he did something wrong. He came home, ate and quickly laid down to take a nap. It seems adventures are very tiring. He and I had a talk about how he really isn't smart enough to be doing things like this. He is used to these conversations...they usually involve me reminding him it is a good thing he is cute, cause bright he isn't.

The one good thing out of all of this...other than we found the butthead? Jet, aka The Black Menace is officially the "good dog" of the house. Who would have ever thought that would happen?

Respect the Families of the Fallen

I was checking my email this afternoon and came across an article about the Associated Press releasing the picture of an Marine severely injured by a RPG attack in Afghanistan last month. The young Lance Corporal died later. Last week, after the funeral, a number of newspapers chose to print the photo showing the downed Marine as his comrades attempted to save his life. The picture was released despite the protests of the Marine's family. The Secretary of Defense has since blasted the AP for their actions, demanding the photo be pulled.

I had to calm down a bit before I decided to write about it. I am a strong proponent of freedom of the press. I am also the daughter of a fallen Marine. I can easily imagine the pain this Marine's family feels knowing that picture, the last of their son, is out there. The last picture I have of my father is him receiving his Purple Heart on board the USS Repose, a Naval Hospital Ship. That picture is a snapshot of a nineteen year old boy, it is bittersweet. What is hidden from view in the picture is the fact Daddy was missing both legs, his left arm and his left eye. I know these injuries were disguised out of respect for the family members to whom the photo would be sent. Those of us who have lost a loved one in service of this country do not need to see what happened to them with our eyes. That loss is forever engraved onto our hearts, we carry this scar with us everywhere we go.

The AP argues they are showing a piece of the country's history. I am a historian as well. I can teach about history without showing the dying moments of a 21 year old. There are other ways to teach, to show clearly the horrors of war, without blatantly disregarding the wishes and feelings of the families of the fallen. I hope the decision makers at the AP rethink their stance on this issue. In the meantime, this Marine's daughter will light a candle for the family. I know he is now part of those few and proud guarding Heaven's streets. He's in good company.

Another World Heard From...

I hadn't planned on blogging today. I've been feeling off for a few days now. Very frustrated, confused, sad and a whole lot of other whatnot to boot. Best I've been able to come up with is to keep busy, preferably without alot of people around. I'm craving peace and quiet like it's the air I breathe.

I love my friends, family and my kiddos. Really. It just I have days where having a job counting birds, or fish or something on an unpopulated island off of Maine, with no internet, or phone, sounds like my idea of heaven. By noon, today became one of those days. Which is why I probably had a massive stress headache by the time I got home. I had enough energy to crawl into my hermit cell - though it does seem more like a dark cave...just need a couple of bats-and crash for a couple of hours.

All I wanted was some sleep to make my head stop hurting. I did get that...along with a bunch of dreams. Like most of the dreams I've had all summer I don't remember most of them...other than they are generally disturbing (for example, the vampires...thank you Kristi...but that is a whole other blog). I do remember part of one though because Daddy came for a visit.
Not particularly surprising, it is close to my birthday. And some of the little signs have been around...a Vietnam book repeatedly falling off the shelf, my Goldstar pin reappearing after being gone for two years, stuff like that. But I haven't had dreams with Daddy in them in months.

Okay I thought, it's a belated birthday visit, plus I'm worried about Dad and alot of other stuff in my life. No big deal. Yeah right. Daddy and I sat on the rocks along the seashore and chatted. I told him about things that had been going on, things I haven't been able to talk to anyone else about for one reason or another. These dream talks are almost as good as the real thing, but they also make me miss him. Sometimes a girl just needs her Daddy. Even when he tells her what she doesn't want to hear. In my case, to stop overthinking, to stop hesitating and to go more with my heart. Great. Bless him, Daddy always jumped before he looked and he always went with his heart, for better or for worse. Sadly, these are not traits that come easily to me. I guess I'm going to have to work on them... sigh.

Waiting

Anyone who knows me well, knows patience is not one of my stronger virtues. Since I tend to give the Tazmanian Devil as run for his money, having to go slow and wait for things to come to me isn't something with which I have much practice. In fact, I'll choose just about any other virtue to work on instead. I'm just not your average, take it easy kind of gal, well in any respect actually.

I guess all those times I've put off cultivating patience has finally caught up to me. It seems much of what I'm doing lately is waiting... waiting to hear about a job, waiting for my Master's Degree to show up, so on and so forth. I wish I could say I was embracing this lesson in patience gracefully. It would seem to be the perfect time to practice being mindful, focusing on the moment. Which I can do, if I have something else going to occupy my hands... making bread, washing dishes, pretty much anything. Give me a moment when my hands are idle though and I'm right back to obsessing.

One of the most difficult things I'm obsessing about right now is waiting to see what is happening with my Dad's health. Over a month ago he was admitted to the hospital with a pneumothorax of the left lung. Three weeks of inpatient treatment and now another of the same treatment at home haven't healed the lung. We have all been having to wait...to see if the lung will heal, for the next series of tests, to see if another treatment will have to be tried despite the risks, to see if Dad can even gather up the energy to walk across the house today when he couldn't yesterday.

It is always difficult to be patient when there is a particular outcome in mind. I think it is more difficult when the outcome is unclear. You are having to wait, but you don't know what it is you are waiting for. Right now, we all hope for good news...that the lung has healed and Dad can return to his regular activities as his strength returns. Yet, the reality is, the longer this goes on, the greater the risk to Dad's overall health as well as the dampening of his spirits. And all any of us can do is wait...and play the cards Fate deals us.

The Past Year...

Some of you know what I've been up to, at least in part, for the past year. There have been some great joys, including the birth of the youngest goddaughter, Ryanne Nichole in November,graduating with my Master's Degree in Environmental Science and watching more of "my kids" graduate high school and move on with their lives. There have been some sorrows, including my Dad's declining health and the tragic loss of my brother Nate's partner, among others.


For most of the past year, I was battling my demons again. The anxiety was bad enough. When it combined with the depression this time around, it hit me in a new and disturbing way. I have always relied upon my intellect, probably too much. Academic life, school, books...these have always been my safety zone. I know what the rules are, expectations are clearly laid out and there are few if any nasty surprises to disrupt that area of calm in my life. At least until the last year, when suddenly I found myself unable to rely on my intellect. My ability to skim material and pound out a decent paper at the last minute was gone. Reading became a huge difficulty. Writing papers became almost impossible at times. And all of this in the middle of my graduate studies. My ability to communicate went out a window. I couldn't follow my own train of thought some days, let alone anyone else. I managed to get through to graduate. At the time, I did enough to get through my classes to get to May 4th - Graduation. I did not do it gracefully, or with much confidence at some points that I would make it at all.

I did what I normally do when the demons appear. Mainly I go to ground and I wait for it to pass. I know how difficult it is for those around me to watch it happen. I am so blessed to have people who love me enough to be there through it. There are other people in my life who have no idea what goes on with me. They do not have enough of a history to have seen this before. They have no way to know it will pass eventually. I realized it is because I haven't told them, much, if any of it because I haven't wanted to accept this is part of my life.

I have struggled with it for years. I kept hoping each time will be the last . Yet the more I struggled to deny its hold, the worse each round has become. I have had to make peace with this being out of my control (Yes this is me admitting there is something I cannot control). I cannot say I will not be in that dark place again. Instead I acknowledge it, find what blessings are in it and begin to heal again.

One of the blessings so far...I can no longer rely completely on my "rational" mind. Doing so may have protected me at one point in my life, but it has cost me much in my current life. Instead, I'm learning to listen to other parts of myself. It's not easy, and so far the result has been a fair amount of heartache. But I'll take that over the numbing darkness any day.

The Infamous Tire Iron Incident

So what was the infamous tire iron incident you ask? A few of you have already heard the story, either directly from me or from Nia. For the rest of you, here is how the story goes...

Last November I had the opportunity to present at the Plus Time NH Afterschool Conference. Unfortunately, it was the same Saturday as the Food Sovereignty class I was taking, along with my buddy, cohort, instigator....the list really is endless (You didn't think you'd get to be sweet & innocent in all this, did you?). With some snarling up of time, travel and whatnot, I was able to schedule both events into my day with just enough time to spare. Everything was perfectly planned and prepared for ahead of time. Looking back, I should have been suspicious.

Nia stayed at our house the night before. The plan was to go to the conference, present and then book it (no of course I wouldn't speed)from Manchester to Keene to get to class. No problem. As we walked out of the house, I noticed one of my tires was a little flat. No problem, I just stopped and filled it up and we were off to Manchester. (Nia, stop giggling, I can hear you from here). The conference went well, my presentation was well received and we left with plenty of time to get to Keene with a stop at Panera's to get food and coffee. (Mmmm, mocha lattes....sorry caffeine tangent).

It was a cloudy day, the sky was just waiting to open up. No problem, we'd be in class by then. Uh-huh. Then, traveling along Route 9, about ten minutes from Keene, my car started to handle funny. Uh-oh I thought....just get me to Keene. Then I started to hear the thump...thump...thump that along with the smell of burning rubber alerted me to the fact I had a flat. Quickly pulling far over onto the shoulder...trust me you don't want to be anywhere near the traffic on that road...I stopped, got out and looked.

I couldn't just have a simple flat...no I had to have a shredded tire. Okay, I can change a tire no problem... While I was digging everything out of the back of my car, an ordeal in and of itself, Nia was trying to call a classmate to let them know we'd be a bit late. That was when it started to rain. So okay, sometimes the Universe is not particularly nice to me, but it usually works out fine. So I'm keeping my swearing to a minimum....okay, I was keeping the volume to a minimum, and I hadn't gotten to the really creative ones yet. Nia meanwhile is happily chatting away on the phone, just as a NH State trooper pulls up to help. Needless to say we were both very happy.

Granted I can change a tire, I just don't like to do it. If the damsel in distress mode gets me out of it, so much the better. The very nice trooper was happy to help. It was a good thing he did stop. The tire iron that came with Fith (aka the KIA) sucks...as does the jack. Also, the tire rim did not want to come off, at least not until I beat on it a bit. Finally we got the bad tire off and replaced with the doughnut which would get me to Keene and then home. Of course, this is all just background for the really funny part (I say funny as in ironic, Nia says funny as in HA, HA, I have to tell everyone in the cohort this!)

The Trooper's tire iron was one of those nice 4 way versions. They spin very nicely to tighten up the lug nuts. Which he was doing as he had me start lowering the jack. Unfortunately, that required my head being in the vicinity of the tire iron. Everything was coming along nicely when
*whack*. The tire iron hit me right in the forehead.

It did stun me for a second...until I could hear Nia LAUGHING. And no it did not break the tire iron as was suggested by one of my friends. The poor Trooper though. He was so embarrassed and was apologizing profusely, over Nia's LAUGHING. assured him that there were many people who would have paid to have seen it happen. Nia agreed, laughing even more (wait, why do I like you again...?). In the process, I also broke my last watch...it's that linear time thing. He hurriedly packed up and sent us on our way to class, calling out our thanks as we went.

Of course, those of you who have known me for a long time know that 1) I am stubborn, sometimes to the point of stupidity when the Universe is trying to get a message to me and 2) I am hardheaded in all sense of the word...Irish and Italian...you expect what else? The standard joke is it requires a 4x4 to the head repeatedly to get me to pay attention and follow the guidance I'm given. Apparently the 4x4 has been retired...or broken...I swear it was not intentional. The guardian angel apparently was forced to resort to tire irons.

Needless to say the story was told throughout Antioch that week. Especially since my head didn't actually start to hurt until about an hour later. Further proof of my thick head...did I mention the Irish part? So that is the story. Of course now I cannot help but wonder what will happen if I break a tire iron?

TAH DAH!

It has been a year...and a few days...oops...since I last posted. I I apologize for the long gap in between posts.

I would say it is because of my personal issues with linear time...the same issues that prevent me from wearing an actual correctly operating time piece and that change the time on my alarm clock (despite the time lock remaining firmly in place). I could make the argument and most of you would believe it. I could even argue that a certain godson of mine...I have only one officially until November...has been playing with the time/space continuum, despite strict orders from this godmother ( Don't laugh Dryad, I'll revise the contract again and you'll get them BOTH when he turns 12, hee, hee, hee)...but I digress.

The actual reason I have been lapse in posting is the past year has been long and full of various adventures, a mixed bag of them ( Envision a sack full of cats, it is sort of the same thing). Some were wonderful. others not so much, some I hope to never have to repeat experiencing again in this lifetime. All of it combined contributed to me having little time or brain power for blogging.

But that is all going to change. In honor of my birthday, I am gifting all of you with a promise to post at least once a week. I have at least 52 stories from the past year, some quite amusing to share. And since my birthday isn't until tomorrow...I'm already early! Woohoo! Quick, someone mark it on a calendar, it likely won't happen again any time soon.

I will try to post tomorrow...but I can't promise. It is my birthday and I plan to head to the ocean for the day. The laptop...which needs a name by the way...is staying home. While I will have my phone with me...it does not get a signal where I am going. Double woohoo!

Maybe I will start with the adventure I had with the tire iron...(Shut up Nia, it wasn't that funny!)