Thursday, July 23, 2009

Memoirs- Jeanette Eisele - Part 2.

As I glanced back at her lifless body, one last time I saw my dad crying as he leaned to her cheek. I pushed through the wooden swinging doors and burst into the most painful deep sobbing i'd ever experianced. Even the large farmers arms of the cornor were somewhat helpful as he tried to console me. At least he kept me from falling, as any strength i had as of now was gone, along with her soul.

I walked slowly out of the odd smelling funeral home, and down the concrete path to the little blue VW Beetle we had bought my mom after the tornado destroyed her Sentra (it was so old and oxidized, we never understood her emotional connection to it) and at the time, I had a yellow VW Beetle and she always liked mine, so we got her one. It was now my dads to drive... a six foot 6 tall bald man... it WAS pretty funny.... at least it was somethign to smile about. I sat in the car, with the door open, staring into the sun waiting for something to happen to wake me up from this horrible dream and she'd be standing there laughing like some sick April Fools Day joke "ha ha gotcha"... but it didn't. I heard the door slam and it was my dad. His head was down, eyes gazed into the steps he was taking and the cracks on the concrete before his giant feet. He opened the car door and sat down slowly.

"We need to go and talk to Sharon" he said, without any emotion at all. So off to the house we headed. The drive up the way was longer than it had ever been. The gravel crunched under the tires and the once beautiful house, now torn apart from the tornado that hit only months prior was there, unfolding as if in some horror movie.

She was standing next to her squad car, arms crossed, puffy eyes yet no tears. Sharon was always a good friend of our family, she was a lesbian so of course people around town had to treat her like crap because that's what back woods idiots do to people who are a little different or things they dont understand. I began to walk into the house, I had to get 'bobby'- my mom's favorite bird. Sharon stopped me quickly telling me... i didn't want to see it. I assured her, I did. She walked with me to the living room, where my mom had laid the padding from a lawn chair over a sofa to keep any blood from ruining the sofa (because you had to know her, god forbid she leave a mess for us... ina house that was already torn up by a tornado)

"No Blood?" I asked with the most amazed look on my face. "no, not one drop my dear' Sharon replied with her solid arm around me. I asked her to explain to me how she was laying and she did. On the west end was her head, at her feet a picture of Jesus Christ, which explained why she was smiling when i saw her for the last time. On the floor were two bowls of water. One with dish soap, one with clean water. Again with the mess thing. After we took Bobby out of the house I asked to be alone in the room. Adam was there, and that was fine. I sat down quietly on the sofa I wanted to feel what she felt see what she saw- I knew she kept her 'stash' of green material somewhere close and the last thing i wanted was the sheriff to find it upon their secondary search- she didn't need to be rumored a pot smoker on top of a suicidal. I looked around, asked aloud 'if i were here, where would i have hidden it'.... i reached up under the botton of a side table, pushed the drawer backwards and it landed in my hand. I began to cry.

Adam was standing to my right, beside the couch and reached for my shoulder in condolence. About that time i heard something solid hit the ground and roll. The look on his face was of shock, and he was somewhat pale in the face. "what was that" i asked. "Uh" he stammered "i'm not sure you need to know Bambi" In my head, i kept asking - WHY does everyoen assume i dont need to know, ASSUME i shouldn't see, ASSUME i shouldn't be told- I stood up quickly to discover why he didn't want me to see it.

There on the floor, about two feet from my foot was the slug that the cops were unable to find during the original walk through of the scene. It was a small one, i picked it up and with horror on my face realized the white piece of substance on the end of it wasn't part of the bullet, but part of my mom's bone. I quickly placed it in a plastic bag, and put it in my pocket. Not long after that, I realized i hadn't even asked for a note. I stepped outside to ask Sharon and she had told me the Sheriff had taken it, along with the weapon for further examination and it would be weeks before they would get it back to us.

Here i stand, silently hiding the bullet they thought was in the sofa because it was a through and through shot to her chest, yet no sign of it entering the fabric of the place she was laying. Apparently in the 'law' world, this was odd. It was also said the weapon was set to automatic rounds- but jammed on one shot.

To be Continued...............

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Memoirs- Jeanette Eisele Part 1.

It was July 16th of 2003. It had been a full year at least of non stop phone calls to her, daily… typically more than once sometimes more than five depending on the change between them. It was normal to call her in the morning, see how she felt and get my ass chewed out from something I’d done when I was five, like biting the blinds leaving teeth prints while I watched my parents out in the yard, of course she was back in that moment, so you can imagine how hard it was for me to not laugh at her being that I was at the time 22 and she was STILL yelling at me for doing that, then saying ‘I didn’t’ do it’ (I was an only child people… lets say I wasn’t bright enough to blame the dog) I remember waking up this day, calling her. The first of the calls were pleasant, she talked of the humming birds fighting over feeders or mates or whatever would cause then to fly at one another shit and fly the other direction. We would giggle about this almost daily. The first conversation was good, I thought this would be a wonderful day for us. An hour later I got another call from her angry with me, because she’d not heard from me yet today, ranting about insurance claims and the tornado then switching to something totally off the wall. My stomach would sink and I could hear it in her voice that there wasn’t much time left, but I didn’t care to face it. I was 22. Nothing can hurt you at 22. The calls went on all day- good then bad, then finally the last one it hit her you could tell, she realized after I angrily said to her ‘mom, for gods sake I’m working and I’ll come see you after work, we’ve had this same FUCKING conversation all damn day’…. she hung up on me. I sat, staring at the clock in my office. It was after 4 and I got off work by five. I immediately felt horrible and tried to call back but no answer.

She had gotten an MRI a few months prior to her losing her memory sparatically, they saw dark spots on the base of her skull – meaning the cancer had spread. The slightest hint of chemo therapy or radiation or even the acknowledgement that she was dying or losing her mind was out of the question for her. So we went along with it, papa and i. we just pretended right along side her that nothing was wrong.

When I got off work, I went to my house that I had been living in with Jaida’s dad (this was before Jaida of course, we lived in sin… ya ya) I was preparing dinner, of course to take some to my parents when I heard a knock at the door. It was her, holding wind chimes in each hand. I welcomed her in, gave her a hug. She was in a surprisingly chipper mood. She had been at Modern Variety and found these chimes. She wanted me to pick the one I most liked. It was hard, one were rainbow colored sunshines with huge smiles and the other soft pink butterflies. I wanted them both, but I took the sunshines, knowing that she secretly wanted the butterflies, since I always reminded her of one. We sat and chatted for a while, she showed me some sillies she had gotten and shared some white chocolate with me (the real kind, the kind they chip away and put in a paper bag for you… the kind that makes you sick when you eat more than a few pieces). Like always though, the conversation slipped… somewhere in the midst we began arguing about something and I told her in the meanest voice I could muster “I have had enough! FUCK MOM- you go off like this ten seconds later you’re back to fucking normal!!! Seriously how do you NOT see what you are doing?” She stopped, her face turned blank and she headed towards the door. She smiled at me as she began walking out, still holding the butterfly wind chimes and said ‘you wont have to worry that much longer bambi, I love you’ to which I replied ‘I love you too mom’ and the door shut quietly.

I watched her get in the van, sit for a moment realizing what was realling going on, it had to be hard to realize you were losing your mind and had no clue. I stood in the picture like any snotty 22 year old ass hole would do and just watched her without telling her I was sorry. My god, she was tiny, she weighed 80 pounds last I knew, she was a walking skeleton.

The night drew to a close like any other, Adam and I watching tv. Ignoring all possible reality in the outside world, eating whatever it was I had cooked, snuggling with Paxton and just hanging out.

July 17, 2003

I woke up the next morning with the same chip on my shoulder. I remember thinking to myself how horrible I was, but at the same time how I wasn’t going to let her ruin my day today. I wasn’t going to call! I headed off to work – regular office chatter- blah blah blah and it was lunch time. I went home to have lunch with Adam and our Friend Chase. At the time the two were mowing yards together so it was a nice break for me to smell stinky working men while eating a lunch meat sandwhich. I remember heading back to work around 1:00 and that is when the day grew cold.

I still hadn’t called, I kept thinking of what I had told a co worker just weeks before this whole thing ‘I wished god would heal her or take her away because I cannot handle this much longer’- sinking in my head and my stomach I felt the guilt and realized it was nearly 2 and I’d not even gotten a call from her yet. About that time my phone rings.

“Bambi, this is XXX from security, we need you to come over to the security building right away please”. Immediately I thought I was getting fired, again with the selfishness of a 22 year old until I rounded the corner to the building and saw the Pierce City Police car. I heard every step I took, every breath in and out, I could feel the sun beating down on me almost in a straight burn. It was bright, in my eyes and I could feel my heart racing I had a hunch, intuition you might call it, but it was confirmed when I peered through the window to see my dads hat he wore every day- I knew it was him b/c he always wore his infantry pin on it from the army.

I opened the door to see two of our company security officers that I’d gotten to know very well by speeding past them in the parking lot while they shake their fingers at me and I’d honk every time as if to say nah nah nah – against the far wall was the cross eyed cop from Pierce City who was once our janitor turned police chief over night (yeah, I’m serious here, go a head and laugh… we all do!) and then he stood up……….. my dad…. His tall thin stature normally so strong and protective was green in the face – red in the eyes and shaking like he’d seen a ghost.

“She did it Bambi” he said to me with an obvious pain and lump in his throat. “NO…. where is she, is she ok… no she didn’t!!!!” he repeated that yes in fact she had- and I hit the cold tile of the floor knees first. He picked me up, I hit him in the chest as if it were somehow going to make me feel better or wake me up from the horrible nightmare I was in and behind him, as he held me so tight to his chest I saw the PC officer look to the ground when the words “Where is she now, can we go see her” came from my mouth. The room cleared quickly. The security guards that once jokes with me turned and walked away, the officer stood steady with no expression and no eye contact.

“Shes gone sweety, she’s at Lakin Funeral Home”

The last words I remember then were saying NO and crying, feeling sick and running out the front door of the building that seems to be closing in on me and throwing up violently next to the tire of my dads car. I sat down in the summer heat suddenly emotionless, no tears, they had stopped…….my ribs hurt from the emotional thrust of sickness that had just came from inside my soul.

It wasn’t long before papa joined me and sat on the curb. Everyone cleared out it seemed and it was just us. I knew what I had to do. But I wasn’t ready. Two weeks ago she reminded me very clearly “When it’s my time, I don’t want a big funeral so all the fake people can come stare at my lifeless shell and pretend they cared, I want you to cremate me, don’t you dare let them cut me open I want to see God in one piece unscathed from a coroners hand, and I want you to scatter me to the four corners” This obviously was a conversation we all knew was coming, she had to smoke pot to eat- even a few bites then sometimes it would hurt so bad she threw it back up anyways.

My dad put his hand on my shoulder and told me to go get my things, that I had a job to do as I was in charge of everything in her passing. Nobody but Me was to make any final decisions in her well being for the afterlife. I stumbled across the black pavement into the building where I worked. My boss was gone, I was weak and I will never forget the first person I told. Her name was Brandy Beshears- I saw her in the kitchen and she asked me what was wrong. Make up down my face, I asked where Kurt (my boss) was. In the next second would be the first time, to what was at that time almost a total stranger that “I have to leave, my mom killed herself”.

I excused myself from the already growing curious crowd of people who had apparently seen me fall outside the building and get sick, so you can imagine how quickly news spread the moment the large oak doors closed behind me. All I could hear in my head was what I had said only a few days or weeks before “I wish god would just heal her or take her…. “ over and over again. The next stop was to tell Adam. I knew where they were working, and papa drove me silently to the doctors yard. I stepped out of the car and as if he felt the pain rush over him as well he heard my tears over the hum of the lawn mower. He shut it off, jaw dropped in awe and I again lost all strength in my knees. I don’t remember what I told him- I just remember opening my eyes and I was at the funeral home.

The smell is horrible in any funeral home, it’s deathly quiet and the carpet is always some horrible pink color with the most hideous flower wall paper to hide the once panneld walls. Mr. Lakin asked me to sit at one end of the table, I chose the other in defiance. Papa at my side, holding my hand Mr. Lakin began. All of the paper work had to be filled out by me. Autopsy? NO – I mean after all my moms’ friend Sharon Black- also a PC cop was at the back door of the house when she did it… what was the point, we all knew the truth behind the suicide…. At least the ones she allowed to know. I looked past his huge shoulders into the crack between the swinging doors and I could see her. His words became a dull sound that I could no longer make out as I focused on the space between the doors. I could see her beautiful long blonde hair and the tip of her nose…. I could see the red spot on her forehead that she had gotten in a motorcycle accident from when she was 16. After I filled out all the information, signed for no funeral, wrote a check for the amount of the cremation and made plans to come back to pick her up I was handed an envelope. Her blongings, what she was wearing when she was picked up. Amnithest necklace, tarnished from wear – a tiny emerald earing she wore on just one side in the only second hole she was brave enough to pierce and a tube of her favorite chapstick… Chap-Et- the blue kind that smells like medicine.

After a bear hug and a slight tear, Mr. Lakin went to escort us out. “no, I want to say goodbye to her sir” to which he replied very stern “Honey, I don’t think you want this to be the last memory you have of your mom”…. But it was……….. because I’d buried so many friends already through high school, car wrecks, suicides, illnesses that I was not leaving until I said goodbye to my mother, my best friend.

I didn’t wait for his answer, I simply pushed past him into the morgue, and there she was. Lifeless in a black body bag unzipped down just above her chest. Her golden hair even more light against the dark plastic bag and her snow white skin so milky and for once healthy looking. The blood hadn’t been flowing through her veins for hours but she was still beautiful. Her eyes were open, eyes like no other. Blue as the most beautiful sky with a glorious and powerful soul to match hiding just behind them. she had a smile on her face- a faint smile, it made me smile. She was no longer in pain………..she didn’t even bleed- not one drop. Sharon and I think she was dead before the bullet entered her chest. I brushed my fingers through her hair one last time, closed each eye with my own finger to be sure she couldn’t see the pain in my face just incase part of her was still there, lingering to make sure I did my job right. I leaned forward, a tear from my face falling to hers and kissed her lifeless cheek. It wasn’t totally hard yet, just cool to the touch… lifeless and solid.

To be continued…………

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Dark Days of Summer: Part 2

After speaking to my dad yesterday i realized............ it's been six years since she died. Apparently i've been stuck in this cave longer than I thought because somehow, I lost an entire year. I CAN do math, i promise, maybe it's because i dont remember the entire first year after the loss. In any case, imagine my surprise and the pain when I ran into that brick wall yesterday.

After hearing her read her note, over and over again in my head the cold earth beneth me began to grow colder and wetter. Her voice was finally gone and all i could hear were the drops again, the tear drops falling to the wet ground beneith me. I felt something suddenly in the palm of my hand, it was small and hard, mis shapen and cold, just like everything else around me. I tried with all my mite to see this thing, but couldn't make out what it was or how it got into my hand. It wasn't a rock, it appeared to be metal, solid metal. In my other hand appeared another metal piece, it was easier to make out. It was longer, hollow in the middle, cold metal with a ridge at the end of it. REalizing with a sickness in my stomach, exactly what it was- a shell casing, oddly the piece in my other hand fit in it perfectly. It was the slug, the one that took her life.

I sat there in the dark, now freezing and scared. no longer crying but starting to understand my surroundings. I realized she had given them to me. The bullet, and the casing, and the note... though hard to read, and rarly remembered were all here for a reason. No longer had the last tear dried from my face than i started to feel a warm breeze, a sweet smell of honey suckle and a flicker of light. I slowly stand up, weak from the emotional drain of the experiance and suffering. HOlding myself against the wet cool wall of the cave I wonder towards the light in awe, still clutching the metal pieces in each hand. As I grow closer and closer, the breeze warms my cold fridged skin and the smell becomes more and more inviting. I can see the blue of the sky now, and I know that i'm almost out of the cave until i come to realize that I must climb to get out. The sky is above me, the sun barley able to reach my pale cold skin. Looking now at the two pieces i've cluched in my hands i realize I have to leave them behind in order to climb out. I know she gave them to me for a reason, as a reminder - but holding onto them will only keep me here, in this cold dark place where I dont belong even longer and i know where she wants me to be. I kiss the cold metal pieces and place them on the ground, around it I draw a heart and like magic they dissapear into the ground, the heart begins to light up, showing me roots on the climb up that i'm able to grasp as i climb. REaching for the first one I could feel a sort of magic around me, helping me find more and more places to grasp, more and more energy I'd not had in me moments before in order to get me to the top. Mud and rocks falling in my face and my hands bleeding from the pain of the climb I continue this for what seems like hours. My fingernails hurt, but the closer i get to the top, the stronger i feel and the better the sun feels on my skin. I rise out of the opening, and standing there is my daughter, surrounded by every friend i've ever had in my life. All of the people who i love and love me so dearly- even ones i've not met face to face. Each of these people have pushed me, pulled me or given me pep talks along the way to help me climb out of this hole and continue with the life i was meant to lead. each of them smiling- each of them giving me strength to continue and every second I realize they were sent to me by her.... even before she died. The entire clearning is surrounded by people, honey suckles and sun.

It's like heaven.... to me... I pick up my daughter, her grasp tight around my neck as she tells me 'I love you mommy, i can't wait to be a mommy just like you'. Life is good, the climb has been painful and what i'm leaving behind is and always will be with me, but nothing compared to the beauty that surrounds me in this lifetime!

Thank you- all of you, for your encouraging words, your laughter on rainy days, your jokes when i need a smile, your hug when the crying hurts so badly that i can't breath, the words of wisdom because you've been there, the empathy because you've not, the kindness you've shared, the pain you have healed and the time you have spent in my life.

Peace and Love to you all- ALL of you! I am lucky to have each of you in my life.

Tomorrows post will be a full account of her death. The day she died, the day before she died, the last words we spoke and a full account of my memory. It will be in tragic detail and I ask that if you do not want to know what i saw, felt and delt with taht you simply skip it. It is, however something i have to put on paper before i continue my book, and for you to fully understand ME as a person and how far i've come since her death. Much love to you all. Bambi

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Dark Days Of Summer

I’m not going to pretend anymore this week. I don’t have anything uplifting to say to you that will make the world feel like an easier place to love, or an explaination of why I think things happen because frankly I have no idea.
I don’t like to dwell on the past, it just seems there are a few dates in the matter of a year that sneak up on me, and once they get close I can feel them breathing down my neck with a ridgid force of darkness. There isn’t much I can do really, not to avoid this date.

Five years it will be, July 17, 2003 at 1:10pm when my mom took her life, to ‘save’ us from watching her die in the hospital. I’ve grown a lot in five years. Learned a lot about humanity in general, learned to love myself for who I am and not what I see others think of me, or tell me I am. I’ve raised a child as a single mother and watched her single father do the same from a distance. She’s the light at the end of the dark hallway when it feels like you can’t run fast enough to get away from whatever it is that follows you, once you reach her, she takes it all away and causes nothing but peace.

Jaida will be with her dad for the next several days, taking my light, leaving me here alone in this cave of darkness wondering around clueless trying to figure out when, just WHEN this emotion will stop and go away or at least subside!
I cut all my hair off the other day. I feel like a pixie and I like it. I see the reaction in others eyes, the lie when they say it’s ok, or they think it’s cute. It makes me smile inside because just then, as the glimmer of a lie flickers from their eyes and glances another direction I feel her hand on my shoulder laughing with me, telling me that I am still me, no matter what I do to my hair (of course she would have hated it to be honest… “what about your long soft angelic hair” she’d say) to which has been gone so long now I hardly remember or care what I looked like with such beautiful locks.

I keep taking pictures, trying to prove that what I see in the mirror isn’t really as dark as it is when I see it. So I snap – I look, waiting for the right picture to show you guys that shows my hair how I love it so much right now. Nothing, the dark is still here……… hovering in my eyes, tears balled up behind them and a clinch in my throat seemingly permanent. Anyways, here is my hair cut.

I can’t help but look so hard, trying to find the light I know is there, the light I’ve worked on for so many years to know that it is myself I love, and all else follows but it’s not there today, it hasn’t been there but will return in a matter of a week.
I know some of my readers have lost a parent. One of you (cp) seem to have the same painful anniversaries as I do with our moms, and Suzy and her dad- she just has a funnier way of speaking of him. She is after all a comedian though, she gets paid for that shit.  right Suzy?? 

So here it is, what it feels like to me – when the anniversary of the day she died approaches:
I’m standing in a dark place, unable to see anything around me, unaware of where I really am or if this is only a dream. I bend down slowly to feel the hard cold earth beneath my feet. I begin to crawl with my hands outstretched in every direction, reaching for something… anything to grasp that will tell me where I am, show me that I’m ok and in a familiar place. I hear echos in the distance, drops of water? The whistling of the wind? I still look so hard and see nothing but pitch black. Finally my finger tips pass something, drawing my entire body in that direction. I put both hands out to feel the object in front of me, it is but a wall, wet, cold muddy wall, the same as the ground I had just lifted myself from. I begin to follow the wall, as if a blind person would with no guidance but their hands. I realize where I am now. it’s a cave. The deepest, darkest, coldest cave I have ever experienced. I begin to cry, feeling lost and totally alone. I don’t know which direction to go, because I simply cannot see anything. I don’t know what to feel except utter panic and my breath begins to shorten and my chest grows tight until my legs get weak and I sit down to collect my thoughts.

I’ve lost something, I don’t know where I am, what I’m doing and I don’t have the energy to go any further from here. Then I hear voices. Not just echos of water dropping to the muddy earth but to my left I hear voices. I sit quietly trying to understand what they are saying, I begin to crawl slowly in the direction of the sounds with one arm in front of me, to keep me from hitting anymore walls. I can hear the voices getting closer, yet I still cannot see. I am beginning to make out what they are saying, it is not many voices, just one……… one every familiar voice. I realized suddenly where I am. Who that was. What she was saying and it made no sense. “please take care of the animals” she muttered.
I sat back against the cold wet wall of the cave and held my head between my legs, tears streaming from my face. I knew where I was…. Again, every year I hear the same thing….. and so I sit, crying, listening to her read the note she left me
“Please take care of the animals. Bambi, I’m so sorry for this pain- but baby were not the nuts, just care takers! Suckers with lots of pitty for the pitiful. You stay strong girl! (detail left out for personal reasons) It is time for me to go, be free. PS- Do not kill yourself for others hurting your heart so bad”
The last words she whispers to me as the voice begins to fade away again ‘The value of time…. How true’
My breath falls to short quick pants and my eyes grow heavy, the tears falling now so fast they have literally become a stream and I realize the drops I’d been hearing were not water falling from the cave walls at all, but my own tears in echo that even I never saw coming. The day is here again, and in this cave I will stay. Feel safe, cry where nobody can see me, write when nobody can bother me, yell because sometimes it’s frustrating to have your only mother and best friend gone for the rest of your life, only visiting you in a silent dream when she feels it necessary. I lay down in on the hard cold earth, still unable to see anything and settle into the darkness that has taken over my eyes. I close them softly as my tears carress me to sleep…….
To Be Continued….

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Happy Birthday Sparkle ON!!!

The sun is bright today, trees glowing with almost a florescent hue. The breeze is soft against my skin. I close my eyes and imagine for just a moment that I’m not here, but on a beach. I can hear the waves swirling and tickling the sand. I can taste the salt from the ocean caress my lips and suddenly I can feel the warmth of the ocean spray. I realize, I’m not at the ocean, but still here, standing on my front porch. I open my eyes and am still surrounded by beauty, only the beauty of country side. This time, one by one drops fall on my shoulders sliding slowly downward drawing my attention to the dampness of them lingering on my skin. As if the sky were an opened a car window, the breeze picks up, and large warm drops of water begin to race to the earth hitting me faster, harder and covering more now than just my shoulders.

One cloud. One single lonely cloud sits above me in the sky without a hint of darkness. Almost like a huge cotton ball just floating. From it pouring what felt like tears in a straight path towards the earth covering the ground causing the most amazing scent. Natures tears? Maybe, Happy Moment? I’m going to guess, because with a day this beautiful the only reason to cry would be from pure joy.
The cloud drifts off trailing with it the rain drops, still in a race for earth. I can hear them in an almost musical pattern as they bounce off the steel roof, and roll down to the ground. My arms are warm, and wet, my feet bare surrounded by earths soft touch. The sun is still there, having never left my sight. The large warm drops slowly disappear into the beautiful blue sky leaving me warm, happy and full of sensation that only nature can bring to my soul.

(wow this is an old picture!!!!! One of my favs of me and Brianne though!)

It’s the weekend- I’m off to take my daughter to the pool and chat with my BFF Brianne all day until we just can’t stand it anymore, followed by a night of cocktails and bonfires while roasting hot dogs in the beauty of the summer evening.

Happy Birthday Jenni-
Today is your birthday. It is not only the one holiday that we reserve the right to celebrate as our own but the single most important holiday (to me) because without it, you wouldn’t be here. I can’t tell you how much you’ve done for me in the short few years that we’ve become friends. It’s not often you find someone in mid life that you know is a soul sister- typically those are found at an early age and can only be proven your sister when you’re 30 talking about your kids. But not you- you’re defiantly my sister or at least in another lifetime. Sometimes I don’t think you see the beauty you bring to the world around you and I watch your eyes grow sad and cold. Other days your sparkle is so bright it is blinding and can make even the unhappiest of people smile, at least at your pink hair! Between you and a few others, I think you’ve kept me on the right track – reminded me when I fall in that dark hole of life that I have to find the strength to crawl back up and when I get there, you’re going to be ready to bitch me out, and dust me off. I couldn’t be more thankful. I hope today, of all days that you glow like the beautiful soul you are, that all of your dreams come true and the true love you have found in the man that is so meant for you will continue to make your soul grow and shine. I love you with all my heart my friend and would never hesitate to do even the silliest thing for you. So, tonight… after the pool- since you got tattoos in a prom dresss for Briannes birthday, I’ll be right here, ratting her hair out and making her take at least one walk down spring street looking like a member of the old school Motley Crew. I love you both more than you can ever imagine. So I’ll send you pictures of her hair once we get done with sun worship- Again, happy birthday my friend.

To the rest of you beautiful people reading the post today- have a super weekend. I hope your soul grows just a little more, you find something to relish in a moment and a smile to stay no matter what. Cheers – Happy weekend

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Thunderous Thursday

It's not often that I can lay awake at night not thinking at all. Visions and dreams, conversations and emotions rushing through my veins to the point it sometimes burns. In the past few months my passion for life seems to go up, then down then up then down and for me, it's not normal. It really isn't. I guess it is the upcoming date -8 days from now that scares me. Maybe I dont know how to handle five years without my best friend. In any case, the next tattoo- the five year is being created in my mind, i wish now I could put my words into a picture and tell the entire story.

There are certain times in life, maybe an era, a day, an entire month or just an hour that it looks and feels like NOTHING we do can possibly go our way… the more positive you think, the harder you work to make things better for others, the more disappointed and difficult things become. I guess there are just times in our lives when we have to admit defeat, wave the white flag and just breath in as deep as we can. Stop, for as long as our minds will let us and asses the situation for what it really is. Life.

I don’t think life is easy, don’t get me wrong. I have figured out that no matter what happens in life though, it is defiantly worth it.

The thing about it is, without the hard times and the sad days... the beautiful sunny ones wouldn't be as appreciated would they? Without the loss of a loved one, we wouldn't know the importance of those we still have on a day to day basis. Without the loss of love, how would you ever know you felt it - and once you find it again.... you'll know because it will far outweigh the first time.

All things do happen for a reason- Though Im out of the creative banter this morning and wish to leave you with a poem (if you've read this long) you have already read- but the cool part is when a good friend blogger turned it into a song:

Lost in Translation
Walking through this lifetime

my head up on the clouds.

I wonder through the streets at night

as if i'm wrapped in shrouds.

Looking in the mirror

i see a different face

not knowing just exactly when

but another time, another place.

She has the brightest look in her eyes

the smoothest grin on her face

she turns away from me then,

she's gone without a trace.

I know her soul, as if it were my own,

I see her sitting there tied tightly to her thrown.

Thinking to herself at night,

about the life she once left behind

how one time the world felt right

it just wasn't the right kind.

and so i stumble patiently,

along this curvy path

Not knowing how the signs should read

They're not written on my map.

I hear her voice, and feel her pain

her image i cannot seem to find

i hold my head up to the rain

searching for piece of mind.

And so it goes, and carrys on

this simple life of mine

i'll find that girl, i saw back then

another place and time.

For now she hides beneath a smile

held softly on my face

for i know that all the while

Shes me, in a whimsical place!

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Week Two Of Hiatus

Sorry for the abrupt absence. I cannot even begin to tell you how long the past several weeks have been in what was or has been an otherwise peaceful life. I could start with the small things, like realizing this is my last year to be in my twenties, but then I nearly saw a 19 year old boy die from alchohol poisoning while others twice my age only stood and watched as he gagged blood and threw up bile totally unresponsive. I'm not sure if it was really because he knew my voice or because it was a lucky moment, but he opened his eyes grabbed my face, like any young kid would do, tried to kiss me ( i think?) and threw up in my face. He's alive though- he started breathing again after that and spent hours in the hospital. He's alive, hes just fine now, and I will never again ignore a minor drinking..... That is something as a parent that you just dont get out of your head. The entire time all you can think about is how your five year old will be celebrating going to a great college, what if she does this? What if, there isn't someone who cared enough to lay on the dock trying to wake him up while he vomited and weased- what if nobody helped MY daughter?

I have met so many more people the past few weeks. Spent time with new friends, laughed hard with old friends and even mended fences with enemies from the past. As I sit here, yet again unwilling to communicate with the outside world, shocked from days of what i can only assume with some of the actions of people around me is a cosmic shift, I want to yet again, crawl back in my hole. Not answer to anyone, take the battery out of my phone, take a few days off work and just stay right here..... in my heaven... holding my daughter- telling her how much i love her every second until she can't stand it anymore and pushes me away to make me laugh. With my dogs by my side who dont ask me questions or care if I talk to them as long as they are by my side. My cat who apparently loves me so much has started to lick my nose while i sleep- WTF is that all about... THAT is a weird feeling to wake up too!

I lost my voice for a few days... twice now that is. unable to have a normal conversation without sounding like a strangled cat... i'm exhausted. Life has caught up with me... leaving my house and my heaven has caused my eyes to open to the reality of the world that is this......... beautiful, but only if you stay around those who see it the same. Soft... but only when the souls you allow in your life are present and not dark. Fun... when everyone is happy and smiles and summer can be what it is supposed too.

I'll be back to myself and my regular blogging soon, if not full force tomorrow. I have though, in my absence enjoyed the sun- fully with every cell of my body. Laughed, with the deepest of tickle in my gut and celebrated life of even those I barley know.

It's busy, this life is....... non stop go go go ... people expect so much- and you can't give it to them all, all of the time.... so I'm working on it, one by one... I promise you all...........and for those worried sending me messages asking where I went.......... I'm fine. I am just stuck in the rut of reality and preparing to put myself right back into my bubble.... where life is beautiful and my birthday is coming in a month.

I'm done with the negatives in my life. the people who can't come up with a positive thing to say to or about another person without turning around and making fun of them like a school kid. I'm done with the people who care more about if they might get in trouble, than the life of boy on the verge of a wonderful college career. I'm done with the people who speak words of emptiness and pain only to never do what they say or follow through. I'm done.......with the bad, the ugly and the souless people in this lifetime.

I'm ready for the rest of my life :) Good Day Sunshine! I'm off to have lunch with a friend in the town that makes my soul smile. Peace out..............