Posted in Patience and Tolerance

Let us not forget….

I don’t have a lot of energy to get worked up about the state of affairs in the world, but  sometimes I look at the world and I can’t help but wonder WTF??? I am equally confused that I
seem to be in the minority being outraged at some of the things I see on the news or in my news feed on Facebook and that is equally baffling to me.

Today for example, someone posts that people in South Africa that are HIV positive will be forced to be tattooed near their genitals as a warning so that people that they get intimate with are forewarned. Now, this article is actually crap, but there are two things about this that concern me.

First off, this was reposted by someone that thought it was a great idea. Excuse me? Are you serious? Kind of like the yellow stats they made Jews wear during WWII? That worked out so well right?

Secondly, the Snopes statement said that this was ridiculously far fetched, but based on the past (see above) seemed fairly inaccurate. I mean, I suppose forcibly tattooing 15% of the population is pretty unlikely, but I am sure people thought in the 1940’s that 6 million people wouldn’t be massacred by a single man’s hate and fear.

I remember a big poster in a classroom many decades ago about how if everyone does nothing when they come for someone else, who will be around when they come for you. (Hate that the Cops theme song just floated through my brain.) I won’t even tell you that when I tried to google this poem/writing I got countless articles written about discrimination but basically the exact opposite of what I am trying to say. People that are so indignant about everything from homosexuality, to the acceptance of single mothers. Sigh…. Anyway, I finally found it:

” First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.”

From Wikipedia….  First they came ... is a famous statement and provocative poem written by Pastor Martin Niemöller (1892–1984) about the cowardice of German intellectuals following the Nazis’ rise to power and the subsequent purging of their chosen targets, group after group. Many variations and adaptations in the spirit of the original have been published in the English language. It deals with themes of persecution, guilt and responsibility.

This wasn’t all of the poster…. as I recall it was longer – it talked about blacks, Jews, etc.  I wasn’t kidding about the decades here folks. And the closing was about how if we forget the past how we are destined to repeat it.  Hmmm…. Homosexuality? Islam?  Have we really learned nothing?

It just makes me sad.  I hate that we discriminate against that which we are afraid.  Why do we fear that which is different from us?  Patience and tolerance. Maybe someday.  I guess all I can do is teach my children not to be this way and spread as much love and kindness as I can.

Posted in Enjoy the moment, Uncategorized

Breathe Slowly

Today was a terribly long day.  First off we were scheduled to go the mall.  I realize I am a female, but that has always been on my list of, No thank you, would rather go naked. I used to go once a year at Christmas time to pick up my  prints at the camera store and maybe get some last minute gifts.  That’s it.  Once a year.  Fine by me.

Not so fine to the 14 year old girl that lives with me.  They tell me she is my daughter, but we are polar opposites in so many ways I wonder sometimes.  She loves the mall.  Ugh.

I woke up in more pain than I have had in a while.  All this lying down and trying to work on my laptop in bed is just not good for my back.  So pain, and a  trip to the mall.  Then I argued with the hubby.  He was in pain too, so not much kindness running around in my house today.  So I did the mall thing, less two boys who had other plans today, but add in my favorite baby and I had my hands full.  Thankfully the girl brought in reinforcements – her best friend and her mom and sister, so I didn’t have to do ALL the stores.  We ate at Olive Garden (Thank the lord for gift cards) and picked up missing children.  I had every intention of being off duty when I got home.  (Who am I kidding?  Off duty? Ha Ha)

Got home, and curled up with my husband – he had done too much work today  too and was feeling the pain.  All I wanted to do was lie there and snuggle.  Sadly my fitbit hadn’t even hit 5000 so I needed to walk around the block.  Ugh….Do I have to?  (Insert whining here)  I can’t do it.  I have no idea how I dragged myself out of the bed and up the stairs.  I walked out the door, I was losing light so I had to get it done.  One foot in front of the other.  Given our circumstances this is a skill I am going to need.  Keep moving.  Just keep swimming, just keep swimming…..I thought about music.  Played on FB as I walked.  One foot in front of the other  My feet hurt badly when I walk, add that to my list of aches and pains, but usually about 3/4 of the way around the block I find my groove and often make another go around.  Not today though – too late of a start.  I tuck my phone in my back pocket and look around.  I can occasionally hear a parent calling out to a child, or see the flickering of a TV.  Other than that it’s silent.  No birds, not even that pesky woodpecker.  No cars finally.  The sun is setting and its just so beautiful.13012824_10154263846046777_9060101775185156062_n

There is a moment where I look at the sky and just breathe.  For that instant I know how blessed we are.  How good life is.  I can be still and enjoy the warmth and the quiet and the momentary lapse of pain in my body.

It doesn’t last long. As I turn the last corner I see children headed my way.  Waving arms and calling my name.  Silence broken, but I take another breath and plunge back into the madness that is my life.  Just breathe people.


Posted in Enjoy the moment, Uncategorized

A Day at the Park

It’s so easy to say, “Live in the moment” or “Enjoy every day”.  And when you love someone who is terminally ill you want to do that – so desperately.  You think it every day, every time you do something special, and often when you are doing something ordinary.  You don’t want to think, hey this could be the last time we ever do this – but it’s there.

And then it’s not.  You are just moving through life, and with 6 kids you keep pretty busy.  There are dentists, and doctors, and track meets, and parent teacher conferences, and endless phone calls and demands from small people. Then there is court because your bluetooth broke and you were on the phone (in a parking lot apparently still counts) and one of the PT scans is 2 hours away so that is a whole day.  A little girl that you love to babysit because she is the one guarantee that you will smile pretty much no matter what.  Meetings to keep you sane, and work just because you have to eat right?  And it’s just moving to fast, and you forget.  Even with him sick in bed nearly all the time, I can still forget.  I forget that every single moment is precious.  That as much as I want to revel in his smile that real life just doesn’t allow that.  Can you really do that all the time?

So we go to the park.  I know he is in pain, but he doesn’t want to miss another day at the park with the kids.  We found this fairly easy trail that we can both do, and occasionally let the brown dog loose to run after the kids.  And we are walking along and the kids have gone ahead and it’s quiet and I have one of those moments.  Where its gorgeous and sunny but not too.  The kids are happy and without an electronic device in sight.  And my husband is here.  He puts his arm around me and pulls me close and it is bliss.  I appreciate that moment.  And I remember how fleeting it all is.  Its this crazy thing that makes you enjoy the moment more, but has this bittersweet quality, because you know its only appreciated because it is limited.


Hold him close.  Take pictures of him with the boys, and the dog.  Then they drift off and I get that moment of peace.  We hold hands a bit and I know he is loving the moment at the same time that he is wondering how many more times he will have this moment, as I am. So we enjoy the rest of the walk and then one kid has to go home, and he is tired so off we go.  Pizza, soda, none of which did I actually see him consume.  And the kids keep knocking on the door, I can’t get anything done on the computer, and back we drift into the real world.  Perhaps someone can figure out how to have the awareness without the sadness part .

He awakens next to me, having trouble falling asleep.  I snuggle him and rub his head briefly, and then come back to type.  It’s a difficult place to be, wanting to write and to work, but wanting to love him at every moment.  Touching him knowing that some day I will desperately wish for that single touch.

Maybe that is why I am so intrigued by Tiny House Living.  I want so much to live in a tiny house and skip all the bills and the cleaning and just enjoy life.  It seems like some of those people have really mastered the art of living.  Or maybe not.  Maybe by the time I get there I will find it lonely.  I guess that is a concept for another day.  Time to go snuggle my wonderful husband.  My best friend commented the other day that it must be nice to make that a priority and like I told her – it’s the only priority when the kids aren’t here (sometimes even when they are).  To have and to hold right? It’s not going to be there forever – so I need to be there , in it.  nothing else is more important.  Show the ones you love how important they are today.  Stop typing, writing, reading, or playing the game.  Just give them some love, a gentle touch, looking at only them and share the love.

Posted in Uncategorized

Real, and funny, but not really funny

I have started several blogs in my lifetime.  In following the advice of all the ‘professional bloggers’ I always chose a particular part of my life to focus on.  There was one about crafts, but I was too neurotic and most of my projects remained unfinished when my perfectionism got in the way.  In the beginning of my fibromyalgia journey I had a blog about that, but that was so depressing!  I never could put the spin on it that would make it not sound so whiny.  In my dreams I had one of those awesomely hysterical mommy blogs, but really, I am just not that witty on my own.  Now, put me in a confined space with my mom or one of my daughters and I’m a freaking riot – but on paper, not so much.

I have been thinking about this for a while.  I participated in NaNoWriMo a few months ago and wrote every day, easily meeting the 50k word goal.  Then I stopped, writing only sporadically, and I missed it.  The book is still in process, but it’s about the last year or so of my life, meeting the man of my dreams and his subsequent battle with cancer.  (Let me not recommend this as a way to tap into the writer in you.)  Many people told me to blog about it, but I didn’t want to.  It was too real.  I never planned on publishing it in my name anyway.  So I could say whatever I wanted, be totally real, no censoring myself like I always have.

I set this up over a week ago – and put my name on it.  Then I thought perhaps that was a mistake.  Could I do it?  Really type it all out, tell you the unvarnished truth, with my name on it?  I considered it, and that is why it took me so long to post.  But here it is – I go to 12 step meetings and I put it all out there, telling the truth to these people, crying if I need to, bitching, cursing, whatever I need to do.  If I can do it there, then why on earth couldn’t I do it here?  Realistically who is going to see it anyway?  People that need to see it.  And if you don’t like it, you can go read someone else’s funny blog.  If you want the real deal, that you can find here.