Reblogged from World Chaos! Great work! hahaha – now what can we say???? !!!! LOVE THIS!
Archive for May, 2013
Today is May 28th. It is my mother’s birthday, although she passed in 2001. Today, had she lived, she would have been 82 years old. Of course, a child as they age, will always look back to the choices made by a parent, and I was especially close to my mother, just never knew it, or understood her.
Had she given up the cigarettes, and the non-stop black coffee from dawn till dusk, she might have lived longer. Had she tried to eat more vegies, and less processed meats, maybe. White bread, of course, was the only bread. She came from the time of the Great Depression, and I heard many stories about living during that time. I suppose that coming from a place of “doing without,” caused her to continue to live like that throughout her aging years. I have long ago decided that it may well be impossible to understand what she thought, or why she said the things she did. Much less, I have tried and tried to grapple with the increasing likelihood that she had a violent nature that came out against our animals. I cannot begin to tell you how deeply sick and disturbed it makes “me” feel to look at that. But as the images continue to haunt me, there seems to be no other explanation.
How do I forgive that? My whole life has been spent in trying to save them, the animals, every one. They are even present in my dreams, which I call obstacle dreams, where there are things I must face and overcome, and at the same time there are always little animals, just sitting in odd places, waiting for me to save them. It is a very upsetting type of dream to be plagued with. I can only think that it is my way of balancing out the bad that was in my mother.
But this is not a time to complain or delve into the dark side of my mother. A friend recently tried to “push” me into a place of forgiving by pointing out that until I do that, I will never have peace. I am almost dawning upon my sixth decade of this life, and still I find it almost unbearable to think of the bad things, and to forgive them in her, if they are indeed true, seems so contrary to anything that is in me.
Her given name was Janelle. And they called her Missy. She was born with beautiful blonde curls that turned brunette as she became a woman. She came from the most affluent family of her very small east Texas town, and even with that, she had only two pairs of shoes, one for school, and one for church, and she was very blessed indeed. For many of the children of the town, had only one pair for all occasions, sometimes they were hand-me-downs, and did not fit properly. But kids make do. They do not know the stress and the worry adults entertain. But the problems my grandparents faced during the 1930’s and 40’s surely trickled down to their kids, as my mother was a child of the Depression. And it would forever mark her.
My grandmother taught the first grade in my mother’s school. And Missy was very bright indeed. In high school, she was on almost every page of the yearbook, until Senior year, where she virtually dropped off the earth. It is interesting to me, because my father first appears in this Senior yearbook, and is surrounded by girls, every time, as he was very good looking and very charismatic. But no Missy. In my heart of hearts, I truly believe that my mother got pregnant, and she had a baby. And I believe that because she was not married to my father at that time, my grandfather insisted that she give up the child. I can find no other explanation. Somewhere in this United States is very likely a sibling to me, that I have no idea about. It is very sad.
Later when she was nineteen, Missy married my father, Harold. I was born when she was 23. And then three years later, they had my brother Jon. They moved to a “city” named Kilgore where Dad worked in a printing shop. Dad was a good father then, as I remember, every nite he came home to us, and his friends also visited with their children. I still remember so much about that first house, the sunlight, my bedroom, the backyard, our pets. Even my toys, I remember them well. The thing I hated most was the torture that seemed impossible to avoid, the constant fussing and messing with my hair. From permanents which were “super horrible” to the curlers at night and the cutting of the bangs. My dad won a $50 prize for a photography contest when he entered a picture of my mother holding my chin and trying to cut my bangs, and I was giving her the “look from hell.” I have this one even now…
I do not know what happened to people. The food they were buying was not food at all. And the life they were trying to lead was so far from what they knew as children. It must have been very hard. My mother was an introvert, and she did everything she could to avoid close friends, and it was only in her later years that she learned to love people, and accept the good with the bad. And many people loved her as well. I have always been thankful for that.
Today I remember my mother. I feel sort of sad, sort of indifferent. I love her truly. If I could see her again, I would let her know that. When I pray, and I speak to God, sometimes I shift, and speak to her, as if she might be able to hear me. I am so sorry I didn’t understand her when I was younger. I was just trying to go to high school and later be a music student at the University. Those were such difficult times where I had to really hustle and having time to understand my mother who was 4 1/2 hours away, was not in the plan.
Today, on her birthday, I imagine beautiful irises. She always grew them as did my grandmother. In spring at this time, my grandmother would also have Spider Lillies in her front yard. Me and Mom would walk around the yard with her, on our Sunday visits, and they would teach me the names of the flowers and plants. These are some of my best memories. Now my brother owns their home, the old family homestead, and he doesn’t allow me to even go there. I cannot even find him, truth be told, as he doesn’t want to communicate.
How can one person in a family, always the “black sheep” still have so much love and caring inside, when the rest of the clan does not. Missy still has a little sister who is 72 now, living in Houston, and I wrote her a couple of months ago. But no answer back as yet. I will try again, as I am just that way. Momma always told me that being alone was not that bad. I guess she had to learn after she finally divorced with my father. They were just too different, and should have done it years ago, but because they had children, and because of the strict religious understanding of my grandfather, it was not to be. Not until my brother and I were grown.
So now I find myself alone. When the knees are giving out, and the back is all twisted like hers was. She never told me that until that last time I saw her alive. Then I could clearly see it in her back. The good news is that I also inherited her good traits. Like reading for one. I cannot get enough of books and the amazing people who write them. Amazon is my good friend! And I am smart, I have good intelligence. It was said by the preacher at her funeral that Missy was a brilliant woman, and could have been a surgeon if she had chosen that. How they could have known that is beyond me, but it was pretty cool.
My father died the next year. He wouldn’t talk to me either or see me. I wonder if he is sorry for that now. His own brother drove to Tyler from Houston to see my Dad and he was only there to help him, with money or whatever. But my Dad wouldn’t even go to the door. So I don’t take all these things too personally, really. It hurts, no doubt. But there are clearly reasons why that I will never know. All I can do now is try to temper the good with the bad. I can’t make up for their wrongs. But I can live my life as best I can, being true to the things that matter most to me. If other people don’t understand, that’s okay. We are all different. I don’t like being alone, no, not one bit. But it is far better at this age than being with the “wrong” person. Maybe someday, my age and my looks, my limitations physically, won’t matter to somebody. Maybe they will see the beauty I have inside and I will no longer have to be the “sheep.” Today, I can only wish the world Peace! We can have it. We really can. But first we must feed the babies. All of them. No child should ever go hungry in this world. No matter his race or his religion. And having Monsanto and Gates selling their vaccines and their franken-food to Africa and other undeveloped nations is NOT the answer. It is all about love, people. It is all about sharing and caring. And that, I can do. Thank you for reading. And Happy Birthday Momma! I love you!
This graphic shows each area of the constellations we call the Zodiac in astrology. You say to yourself, “I’m not interested in astrology”. I understand, for I spent the first half of my life studying, practicing, integrating the best from the mysticism (not readily available to the average person) from Catholicism, Protestantism, Judism, because I spent the majority of my life in foster homes (my father was a Sagittarian Sun, his heart was mutable/changeable, moving from one experience to another, thus this placed me in a place to experience foster homes and the various faiths of such homes, and to embrace the opportunities of the moment, for those whom I lived with, I embraced and learned their practices).
I did what the Western tradition bible invited: “Ask, Seek, and Knock and the Doors Will Open”. The Inner Eye of my experiences showed me that each spiritual tradition is simply trying…
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A cardiac surgeon admits the medical machine erred in heart healthy diets, that the very food recommended is killing thousands every year. In addition, studies show that processed foods further the problem by leaving their toxins in our bodies. Furthermore, he says that cholesterol in the blood is not the cause of heart disease.
Psychiatry is a false science laying blame on parents (mostly mothers), big or weak egos, lack of self-worth, etc. They assign code numbers to our sorrow and fears, load us with drugs and live off our income. What if “mental illness” is due to a combination of toxic substances found in our foods, water, air, required vaccines, prescription drugs passed out like candy? Add to that, our inability to understand our spirituality, our unsatisfied longing to know the meaning of life, a lack of closeness to our Creator, a society that does not support our spiritual…
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Two Christmas’s past, I thought I wanted a Keurig Coffee machine. They were terribly expensive, and so Santa was not to bring me one… This year, I was not so interested in them, as I have now met the man Todd of Dangerous Grounds, and would not ever want to spoil the true taste and flavor of the particular brew of the morning. I wonder how kids will ever realize that all they really have to do is boil some water, add the grounds, then strain them. There is no need of fancy machines, with special little cups of… well…. whatever… is no matter now….
It has been a new month for me, this May of 2013, and it has brought me new life. As I have had to face the hand of my own making, I am compelled to sit at my desk and make out lists, to be organized and to be sure. I am not haphazard, nor careless in my steps. I have great purpose and vision. My dreams are far and apart from the reality of now. And so I must proceed with caution into the future, and each decision, each choice defines it.
In terms of comparison, I am quite sure that the amount of funds I have to deal with in America, is truly paultry and sad. Most people could not even begin to imagine how I survive. And even as I make out my budget for next month, I am now both shocked and filled with some dread, at the prospect I see before me. As I read and research, explore about and take in all the new information, insights and truth, I have added more than a few books to my amazon cart… I do not have a Kindle, nor will I ever, I am sure… I must own the book, have it in my hand, so that I may write in the margins, make little signs and arrows… to mark my trail…
So as I look at this “budget” the word “over-drawn” is like a loud train coming at me in a tunnel… I see it coming very clearly! haha So in order to manage that problem, I must make some hard choices. It could be that the Hughes Net ISP will have to wait… how will I survive without the music… how will I survive without my friends… but surely it is no choice if it means I would not have the books… I must have the books… a curse I inherited from my mother, no doubt… her bed was always filled with them. Her passion was mysteries, mine is knowledge.
As amusing as it is, food is not even on my list as yet. Besides the internet connection, there will be much more I have to cut. I have property taxes that are over-due, and utilities as well, that must be transferred over into my name with the deposits that must be paid as well. Water comes first, as I even contemplate what giving up the electricity would mean… How hard would it be really. I can make a fire. We have no shortage of wood certainly. Give up the addiction to the laptop for a few months, and perhaps I could re-group this financial crisis. How could I not write? Is time to get out the notebooks and pens once again… time to embrace the old ways… for I cannot live without the books. I cannot.
Funny how when faced with choices, we always turn to the easiest way, almost instinctually. The coffee machine where you just pop in the little cup and voila’ – perfect coffee with all the “creme” and “sugar” already added for you. You have only to drink it. Funny how when forced to make a choice between electricity and reading, there is no choice really… I have a never ending supply of books, like old friends, that always impart something new to learn, no matter how many times I have read them… They call it living off the grid now. It is summer and the water is warm naturally. The daylight is plenty for my needs. My cat Spooky does not entertain these worries. It matters not to him if we have electricity or not. He is only concerned for his crunchies and the peace that we enjoy. He hunts little bugs and butterflies, and sits and makes silent insults to the squirrels as they munch away at sunflower seeds I have offered. Yes, Spooky and I live in the same world, yet in so many ways, it is far different in perceptions.
A new friend that is coming to the farm just told me in conversation that people should not worry over having enough food, and other trivialities, as God will always provide whatever we need. And I am paused to wonder on this… I suppose as the final days of May pass into June, we shall see. We shall surely see.
Nora Jones and the Foo Fighters are singing a sublime melody… “heaven surrounding you…”
Today is the final nail in the coffin of a terrible man. His wicked life included trapping neighborhood cats and effectively torturing them and killing them. He finally picked the wrong one.
Today in Court, the Bastrop County Courthouse will be solemn as the Judge in this man’s long awaited trial will finally deliver a verdict in the case. The little orange tabby cat, whose “Mom” said he reminded her of Garfield, little Moody the cat, now affectionately known as Moody Blues by his supporters… he may have his justice after all. A lot of emotion here, and yes this is life as we know it, and bad things do happen. But when people like this poor sad broken man and his wife, are ever going to be stopped, we have to step-up, all of us. We cannot be afraid to use our voice to be heard over the clamor of the slowly grinding wheels of justice. I truly believe this could have gone in a completely different direction if animal lovers in the US had not come to bat for Moody.
This includes a very lovely woman named Audie. She caught my heart the second we communicated. Some people in this world are just unselfish, they do not even consider themselves. They see a problem and they find the time, they take the time, and they do whatever necessary to right a wrong, as best they can. This is Miss Audie. She lives far far away from Tejas but she worked nite and day now for a year or more. I just met her in the last month and I joined her in trying to get awareness to this trial.
Every generation has its own set of issues and problems and this time is no exception. Even more critical, in so many ways, our young people have so much to face and correct. But I do believe that there are perfect people like Audie, who set the standard, they keep us right. She is the very foundation of kindness and caring that will keep the playing field level, so that when our kids have their day to fight, they will know how. The future is not sacrificed, no not at all… A new perspective maybe, is all we needed.
This very special morning as the trial is in full swing, I am at home, listening to my “morning music playlist” and I’m holding Moody’s heart in my hand. We all pass, this is true. But it should be in God’s time, not by the hand of a monster. I think God stands behind us all, when we must take matters into hand, and eliminate the broken from ever harming again. Thankfully, I do believe today is one of those days. It doesn’t make anything better really, but maybe for the precious family that loved Moody, the two little girls that aren’t sure about a heaven anymore, maybe their mother can sit them down once again and try to explain that the very bad man who hurt Moody is now going to jail and he will not be allowed to hurt any more cats like Moody ever again. Then maybe the little babies can find some sense of understanding, for that we can only pray.
God bless you Moody the cat, and all the other untold kitties that also saw the same fate. Maybe today, maybe this morning is truly a better day, and I am filled with emotion as I face this day knowing that indeed there can be justice, when people are not afraid of bullies and everyone stands strong together. This is now a beautiful story, that should be told over and over, and Moody will live on, in the hearts of us all, to infinity and beyond! Peace, my friends, Peace! Thank you Miss Audie for being the beautiful person that you are. Thank you people that are not afraid to stand up for right, even when it seems almost impossible to achieve. We never give up and we never give in.