Elvis lives...

Driving down Elvis Presley Boulevard, I am struck by how odd it feels to quietly cruise by his home, Graceland.  It is much smaller than I ever imagined - and so visible from the street.  This is certainly something that would never be afforded to today's paparazzi hounded celebrities.  In fact, with a good pair of binoculars, one can see straight into the bathroom!  I imagine back in the days, that this area was not so flooded by businesses and residences and that he may have enjoyed some form of privacy when he had time to himself.

It got me thinking about how the celebrity homes where I live are shrouded by trees, impervious to a camera or disruption of privacy of any kind.  Interesting.

When you step into one of the 100's of gift stores, it is as though time stands still.  The day Elvis died, every part of his life was memorialized.  It feels almost ghoulish to see his image in every commercial form; for sale to anyone who will pull out their wallet for a piece of his life.  In a strange way, it makes you laugh.  I mean, Elvis bobbleheads, toothbrushes, Beanie Babies, toilet brushes, tattoos,... the list is endless.  I looked for the tackiest thing I could find and I think the hip shaking Elvis, complete with window sucker, was right up there...  so I sprung $8.99 plus 9.25% Tennessee sales tax to take this baby home for my husband.

And then you look around and feel great sadness at the prostitution of this reverent man's life in such a degrading fashion.  I know it rakes in MILLIONS of dollars and tourists to the city of Memphis every year.  And I suppose it allows the sustainability of his legend to reign longer than one could ever imagine, but what about his daughter Lisa Marie or even his grandchildren?  It just seems so strange to me.  And I can't quite put my finger on it.  Something about it just feels wrong.

I was struck when I heard his song, "In the Ghetto," loudly playing at the drop off center.  This soulful voice telling a truthful story of life in his (and still in my) time.  What a gifted vocalist.  And I felt such awe when I saw the people who had come to capture a moment in time with someone they obviously worshiped and adored.  He was immensely popular, there is no doubt about that.  I becomes very clear just why.

I shut my eyes and said a prayer for the gift of his life and it was enough.  What a blessing to us all he was.

Insurance...

I am trying to decide what to make of insurance companies.  How it all fits into the big picture of being a safety blanket; it feels like some form of rescue in times of great distress.  Logically, I think that when I spend copious amounts on premiums every month.  I get protected from a variety of dubious acts no one can predict as well as protect others from my unforeseen future stupidity.  It all sounds seductive in a lot of ways however I am finding there is little in that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow if you are an honest and sincere client.
I added it up and gasped when I realized what I pay to seemingly protect myself and others. Then I began to daydream of wonderful things I could do with all the money I'd save if I cancelled all my policies on mass.  I could, say, lay on the beach for weeks on end.  Actually pay for the hotel instead of wash dishes in the kitchen.  Perhaps quit working 5 separate jobs, start walking everywhere and take the bus.  Gee - I'd be "green" which would make me hip, not to mention celebrate a huge weight shift and healthier lifestyle.  Maybe life longer?  Not bank on my own demise and count on saving that premium money so I can pay for the old folks home in cash.  Perhaps, now here's a novel thought... retire?  Yeah - stop working at a ripe old age.  That has been pretty much torn away from me since the economic downturn.
Yesterday, I learned that my "cadillac" health insurance has no mental health coverage.  Seems after 14 years of great insurance, our group plan was downgraded without our knowledge.  However, with a hike in the premium, it was easy to assume we might be getting something that was actually better than what we had.  Hah!  Here I am, working for the National Alliance on Mental Illness, praising the great changes with the passing of the Mental Health Parity Act, and I don't even have mental health coverage?   I asked the beloved customer service rep, this was before I told her she was going straight to hell, what then DID the Mental Health Parity Act mean?  Well - I guess you have to have 50 or more people in your group plan or it isn't included.  What kind of joke is that?  Not a loophole?  Seems to me that no matter what the good intentions are of any President signing a bill, the special interest groups work their way in to create holes in the plan so for-profit insurance companies can find a way to decline your claim.  Ridiculous.  Makes me very worried about the new health care bill.  I do love the idea however!
I am truly fed up.  I can't imagine hundred's of thousands of people who aren't.  So why no revolt?  I haven't got a clue.  I think we've all become so complacent that we truly believe we have no power anymore.  And it's beginning to look like that is a strong possibility.  And if I hear another claims adjuster say that they "care" about me, I think I will just go squirrelly!
So now the issue of karma.  I really think about that everytime something happens where my actions can affect others.  If I dent even slightly, someone's car, I will stay or leave a note so the individual I have violated will know I have integrity and character and want to come clean with my mistake.  However, my vehicle has been hit over 6 times.  No notes.  Not a one.  So is karma working here?  I don't think so.  So I'm off to get an extimate for the last dent - it is $150.00 over and above our $1,000.00 deductable.  And we have $1,150.00 laying around waiting to be used for car repairs when someone smashes the car and drives away?  So now it sits, big dent and all with no wheel well cover - pulled out when the car was hit - and I get to stare everyday at what someone decided didn't matter enough to them to be accountable for.  That I or my feelings didn't matter to them.  It really is a sad commentary on our society as a whole.
So I really believe that insurance companies don't truly care -  but to be fair, they need to act in good faith and should do the right thing to make a bad thing right.  Maybe if we felt they really did care, we might have more confidence in them.  I certainly don't.

Thanks and Giving

Anyone who thinks 2009 has been an easy year, hasn't faced the challenges met by me and my family. Sure, more often than once in a great while, I will feel my eyes well up when trying hard to maintain my outward strength and composure. It can be hard when you feel like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.

The greatest lessons I have learned have all come from the most difficult times in my life. It seems that unendingly, the facade that I called my life was slowly dissembled in front of me. How could that not hurt? I truly believed that once I became settled in the US, I had revealed my authentic self. Ii think a big part of me was really authentic. However, I still chased the same dreams all of us do. I wanted to replace the creature comforts of my life back in Canada. The problem with this was that to do it meant 4 X the amount of money and work.

I took it all on like a trooper. Working hard to regain what we lost financially when we sold and converted our funds and retirement. We still had a long way to catch up but still time. Kami was only 9 and there were years before college.

Then crash. Hours cut at work. Side work over. Unable to pay all our bills. Scholarship for Kami removed. More hours cut. Can't pay second mortgage. Mookie died. Bank ceased by FDIC. Retirement all but wiped out by bank takeover. Gary had a stroke. Medical bills over the roof,

Sometimes it feels unending. Definitely overwhelming. Unceasing. No resolve. No end yet. Hidden stress and fear.

So here we are in November. Thanksgiving is right around the corner and I must say that I am counting the days until we reach that special day. It is one more bend in the road of this year until I climb up the mountain to descend the summit at Christmas time. And I am looking forward to sharing our love with my friend Judy and her family.

November and December bring Thanks and Giving. A giver like myself's most favorite time of year. Don't bother with a present for me. Just let me watch your eyes sparkle when you open the one I especially chose for you. In that moment, I have tried to connect with your inner spirit and I hope you see the thrill in my eyes when you open something I choose especially for you.  A lot of thought goes into your gift.  And in that, I feel the true spirit of love between you and I.  The comfort in my hearts boils over and I feel the real purpose of my life here.  To love.  To share.  To be loved.

Is this relevant?

This may feel like a disconnect to you.  That may be because you don't live in a community of great opulence and excess.  This does not extend to the so-called "worker bees" here.  Keep reading...

OK - got this e-mail and split my sides laughing like crazy at it's relevance considering the bigger picture.  Decided to do a parody on it that follows.  Check it out...  (names changed in original because contrary to the sarcasm, I am quite sensitive to the feelings of others)

Hi all,

You may or may not have heard that through a series of "fortunate" events our home is going to be featured in the MTV Teen Cribs show.  The show features teen friendly spaces and will also highlight our healthy/green home characteristics.  Our architect, Homes Fabulous, graciously recommended our home and after numerable emails, photos, phone calls, etc. we were confirmed to be included in their 2nd season.

At this point, all we know is that Tom and Sally will be able to have some friends present during the shoot.  The show is teen focused so we are not sure how much Tom we be able to be "featured."

We unfortunately will not be able to include the entire class and hope no feelings will be hurt.  The number of kids that can participate will be decided by the producers.  We may not know how many kids we can include until they walk through the house on Sunday evening, the 15th.  The filming is one week from today, Nov 16th. YIKES!

Best, br

Here's my response...

Hi all,

You may or may not have heard that through a series of "fortunate" events our home is going to be featured on KBOI Boise this week.  The show features middle income houses and will also highlight ours as the second foreclosure in the subdivision Chantrelle in Bellevue, ID.  Our bank, GMAC Financing, has graciously served us our papers after months of negotiating ad nauseam and restating that GMAC in fact, benefitted from government bailouts paid for by OUR taxes, they have turned a deaf ear.  Therefore, like flies to fly paper, KBOI is excited to have us on the evening news!

At this point, all we know is that Kami will be able to have some friends present during the shoot.  The show is family focused so we are not sure how much Kami will be able to be "featured."

Fortunately we WILL be able to include the entire class and know that no feelings will be hurt.  The number of kids that can participate will be decided by the producers.  So bring your entire family!  We will be serving a pot of beans and weinies and bush beer to celebrate the enormous impact this event has had on our lives.

The filming is one week from today, Nov 16th. YIKES!  I better get my boxes packed!

Best, wjn

A regular site in a redneck state...

This would be a typical Idaho vehicle on a Sunday drive after church.  Check out the back of this pint-size pickup; one beer cooler, one off road motorcycle and one headless, splayed out elk with it's four hooves stuck straight up in the air! 
What you can't see, is what this truck is following.  And the truck ahead of that.  A real western convoy of sorts and many more elk finding themselves in similar positions.  
I may need to relocate.  Rednecks don't mix well with my Starbucks.

Superior Scribbler Award

Well goodness gracious me!

I have just received this award from Super Superior Blogger John who, "Pick me... Pick me...", Picked me!! Such a lovely complement because I write my blog as a form of self expression to memorialize my personal moments and special thoughts.

I wish I could say that my blog is as interesting to others as it is to me. And I must admit that when I check my blog, I get get excited to see that someone has actually read my meanderings and has taken the time to leave a comment. In this special way, your time to read makes me feel heard. And your comment is your gift to me. I do love a great dialogue!

I met John on Twitter during the madness of our last election. He and I share many similar values and in coming to read and know him, I adore the warmth of his heart and the spirit of giving and giving back. His love for family, for the simple pleasures of life and desire to work with others to improve our world, make him a man who walks his walk. Reading his blog is like having a friend in the world that understands how I think. So thank you John for reading my blog in your spare time; single guy = what spare time? And thank for the brief glimpses into your blessed life. You are a day brightener.

So in receiving this awesome honor, there are responsibilities that go along with it. In the true spirit of "pay it forward", I will honor five others who I enjoy following. How fun this is to feel like queen for a day!

Each Superior Scribble must in turn pass this award on to 5 deserving Blogger friends.

Each Superior Scribbler must link the author and the name of the blog from whom he/she has received The Award.

Each Superior Scribbler must display The Award on his/her blog, and link to This Post, which explains The Award.

Each Blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add his/her name to the Mr. Linky List. That way we will be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives This Prestigious Honor.

Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog. It is difficult to pick only five because I think all of those I follow deserve this for endeavoring to share their journeys. Here are my selections...

STUFF IN MY BRAIN - Now I wouldn't even be writing this if it weren't for John! I know what you're thinking; he's won this already! But he will continue to win it because his heart is huge and he has been so inspirational to me. Encouraging me to give blogging a try. He writes a "feel good" blog. What I mean by that is I think it is a world into his character and integrity; his love of life, family, love and giving back. He is all around fabulous! Now John - what in the world is a Mr. Linky List?

I GHOSTWRITE - Jody is a jewel. I met Jody while working my way through the internet mess of news and not-so-news regarding Raye Dawn Smith's case (she is the woman I advocate for that is wrongfully convicted). Jody is an amazing woman - she singlehandedly felt compelled to pick up the torch on this case and worked through all the mire to uncover the truth. The consequence of her findings have caused her family heartache because there are many who wish to bring her harm for uncovering the truth. She stands by her principals and is a fighter. Her new blog is a step back into her writing world and I am glad to see she's back at it full force!

SAS MAGICAL MYSTERY TOUR - I love this blog. Sas is an excellent writer and I enjoy her blog for many reasons. The best part is that I agree with practically everything she says so I feel quite validated! Love she's from London. Bigger perspective and a bit like home. Well - not really - but kind of... hmmmm.

F8HASIT - This simply artistic blog is an interesting read. I think what drew me in was the photo of her mother. I want her to be my mother! Her blog is down to earth, an easy read and again very well written. She also has quite a large following and the comments are just as much fun to read.

BEARING FALSE WITNESS - This exceptional blog is written by a retired Lt. Col. and Air Force Pilot, former member of the FBI, English Professor and writer. Bill Newmiller is also President of the National Coalition of Criminal Justice Reform and a man of passion, character and integrity. His biggest challenge is the advocating for his son, Todd Newmiller, who has been wrongfully convicted.

I subscribe to many blogs and thoroughly enjoy every one of them for a variety of reasons. It is so hard to chose just five. Truly, anyone who pours their creative soul out on paper to share with virtual strangers deserves an award. It's all about learning to love each other despite our differences and I think blogging is the perfect forum to express what sometimes is difficult to say aloud.

You are all the best!

Starry Starry Night...

One of my most favorite autumn pastimes is to sit in our outdoor hot tub. I do this silently - late late at night. The middle of the night sometimes. It is my little secret really.

Because I live in a progressive mountain community, there are a variety of ordinances put in place to ensure dark night skies and very limited noise pollution. Actually, at night, it is pretty close to dead silent. You can only hear a faint few sprinklers going - a strange sound because most have been blown out to prevent freezing. It's getting bloody cold for sure.

The air carries the aroma of moist evergreens and the hint of burning wood. People lay warm and cozy in slumber.

And so I tiptoe out into the cold and across the grass. Crunch crunch under my feet... gently lifting the vinyl lid. Easing into the 106 degree water, I feel enveloped with warmth. It is like a comforting hug. And I feel held by something much larger than can be dreamt.

It is then, I can look up into the ink black sky and see the brilliant dance of the stars. The blinking satellites slowly moving around the earth. The fading tails of comets... shooting stars flying by. I make a wish. Another wish. And then another. It is at that moment I feel the grace of simplicity and how truly small I am within the enormous universe surrounding me.

Each star represents a soul to me. A soul departed but still twinkling with life, reminding me that I am never alone. And the universe, the heavens above, are the playground of souls burning ever bright. A warmth of reminisce. Comforting nostalgia.

It is a time I can connect with physical love lost and reconnect with emotional love held. There is no exchange of words. Call it a feeling. Very intimate. Just between me and the people I miss in the deepest parts of my heart.

It is also a time I connect with others who know not that I care so deeply. I envision them and send them the love I feel for them. My gratitude for their place in my life and how they have touched me. And my wish that we could spend a moment in time together laughing and sharing this vapor of a life.

I think it really is the time that I feel closest to God. And I converse silently with what His desires are for me. It is subtle and simple. And it confirms my path or directs me to other thoughts that lead me to new directions.

I don't sit still or find quiet much in my life. It is easier for me to be busy helping others to avoid my own pain, disappointment and sadness. But in this night time respite, I do find my peaceful center and with gratitude, the opportunity to appreciate the gift of my very presence in this beautiful world.

National Coalition for Criminal Justice Reform

It was a cold Sunday morning when I came upon, quite by accident, the case of Raye Dawn Smith and the death of her daughter, Kelsey Smith Briggs. While reading the information posted I became curious and confused. It led me to investigate further. I read every single website and posting, watched every available video, reviewed any available media/newspaper coverage and finally, purchased books written about the case. It was through this thorough investigation that I came to know that Raye Dawn Smith had been wrongfully convicted of enabling child abuse.

This disturbed me so much that I felt personally compelled to contact the characters involved in her case. Those on the outside - the perimeter. People with integrity who based their opinion on strictly the facts presented, who had no ties to those involved (thereby nothing to gain or lose) and who were as passionate as I was that a grave injustice had occurred.

I began to write letters to anyone and everyone who I believed would listen. Never having been involved in anything such as this, I felt that my correspondence would be read and heard. That I would receive answers in return. Needless to say, it came as such a surprise to me that little to no one cared about the facts. No one cared to discuss this “Raye Dawn” person because she had been convicted and therefore, was a perfect example of trash to toss away and forget about. Obviously she had to do something wrong or she wouldn’t be in jail in the first place. Right? ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY WRONG!

This led me on the most amazing journey I have every been on. I have met countless people whose loved ones, spouses, sons, daughters, grandchildren and friends have been convicted based on a series of travesties occurring prior to their arrest through to their convictions. Many sitting in prison serving sentences for crimes they clearly have not committed. What has been equally surprising to me is how little people care about these prisoners (individuals just like themselves) and how easy it was to dismiss them as deserving of the punishments they received.

This was an enormous wake up call. The facts of our criminal justice system simply are unfathomable. In the words of William Newmiller, Board President of the NCCJR, we incarcerate 2.5 million people in America—about the same number as Russia and China combined. Another 5 million people are under supervision—parole or probation. That’s a total of 7.5 million people, more than the combined populations of Chicago and Los Angeles. Those under control of America’s combined prison system amount to our nation’s second largest city.

Although this demographic is heavily weighted by the poor, the disempowered, and the uneducated, it, nevertheless, cuts across all ethnicities and social-economic classes. And its voice has been largely ignored in the public discussion of what needs to be done to reform a broken criminal justice system. Perhaps the lack of voice for this group arises from the fear public officials have of appearing to be “soft on crime,” or because the stigma of incarceration has stifled the voices of those who suffer it.

This is why it became my personal passion to effect change in our criminal justice system. If only to create a larger voice for Raye Dawn Smith and the countless other beautiful people whose lives are being destroyed minute by minute while they await a new trial. In this, I am a founding Board Member of the National Coalition for Criminal Justice Reform and your help is needed to stop the injustice that so many decent people endure at this very moment. It is not only the voices of the wrongfully convicted but their families as well. The loss of such talented and amazing individuals who suffer silently in prison is staggering not to mention the anguish of their loved ones who have lost everything they have worked for their entire lives to defend and protect those whom they love.

Where is the audience? Again I shout, are you listening? It’s time to turn the volume up on this issue. It’s more than time that we take a serious look at what’s going on in this country because the millions of dollars we sink into this broken system does nothing positive for future safety of country and our children.

Please stand by me and help me spread the word. Don’t think for one moment it couldn’t happen to you. I can count many stories of those who believed in our justice system. A justice system that failed them. Who now sit in their cells losing hope. Let’s join hands and make it fair for all. It is simply the right thing to do.

WEBSITE www.reformingjustice.com ~ FACEBOOK National Coalition for Criminal Justice Reform

TWITTER http://twitter.com/ncc4jr OR ncc4jr

email wendy.norbom@reformingjustice.com

Swine Flew?

OK - I had an excellent night's rest. Took a blessed Klonopin to help me relax because my sweet child is off on a Hagerman Back Country Adventure. I woke up happily at 10:30, thanks be to God and the Klonopin Angel, but the moment I got up I ached and hurt everywhere. Quickly, I degenerated. It was downhill all the way from that point until now.

I am not sure it is Swine Flu.

I am not hungry. This may be a great weight loss diet. My head, back, neck, legs, knees, feet, stomach - well just plain all of my beautiful body - is down and out.

In a way, if it is swine... I will be immune. If not, well shoot. I'll get to pay for a blessed shot.

On top of the flu shot itself.

Health is a gift. I have always said this.

My year has been hellacious. I just want to clean up the mess my life has become.

So to feel like this is incredibly tiring. It plays with my mind. Just the thought of something else happening that is chaotic brings tears to my eyes.

They say God never gives you a challenge he feels you can't handle. Well - I think I am there finally. I feel like a wild horse that has a broken spirit. I simply need a shift. The positive attitude, glass half full mentality is shifting. It makes me really sad because I thought by now my personality and charisma would have turned this all around.

So if anyone is listening out there in blog-land and can offer me some encouragement, I sure would appreciate some compassionate advice. To refill my heart would really be such a gift to my worn out old soul.

Next blog will be a happy one. I absolutely promise.

Recharging the Batteries

Oh I love to laugh! Being a class clown and continuing to use humor to make my own life easier, I have a great appreciation for the hilarious. It has been absolutely forever since I have laughed so hard and so constantly; boy does it feel good... :)

Last night, my dear friend Pat took me to see Robin Williams perform in Hailey. Mr. Williams scheduled three last minute performances at our local Liberty Theatre, owned by Bruce Willis and Demi Moore, and home to Company of Fools. I can only assume he is preparing to resume his tour in September after open heart surgery in March. Not only does he look fabulous but there is no lack of energy. He has recovered so well it is encouraging.

We had front row center seats and it felt as though he was speaking right to us. My throat is actually sore today! I have watched his routines and have some comedy DVD's of his, but never have I experienced a live performance by a stand up comedian. He went on for over 1 1/2 hours without a break. And every minute was funny. Every minute was relative to our current events. To see humor in everything, even the worst of the worst, is such a gift.

With everything going on in my life at this moment, I wanted to express gratitude for the gift of his humor. It lifted my spirits and will continue to make me smile for a long time as I remember each joke and it's clever telling.

Tell that funny person in your life that you love how he or she makes you feel. I wish I could bottle Robin's humor and pass it around. It truly is the best medicine ever.

Back to School - Year 5

I can't believe it. My child is in Grade 5 - the last of her elementary years. I remember when she was in the Beginning Class - the ripe old age of three! With a red jumper and wee little love puffs in her hair, she happily made her first journey into learning and began some of her closest friendships. It was only 2 - four hour classes a week and she relished every moment. Ever the social butterfly, she continues to this day to be the peacekeeper and convener of her class. In her little world, everyone should get along and as her teacher told us several times, she is necessary because she is the glue that holds her class group together. That's her role.

And it all began many years ago.

So I will drive her into school tomorrow in the first outfit she has picked for herself to wear. She has always deferred to me to dress her but this year is a big one of independence and she wants to pick out her outfit. I can't wait to see what it is.

She is so excited, she has made her lunch already and says she'll get up at 6.

This is going to sound strange but I am somehow in a melancholic mood. The TV is playing Sirius satellite - I must admit I love satellite radio... and it is on "The Bridge". Slower songs from the past 30 years or so. Right now, John Denver. It is making me feel like my life has passed me by at incredible speed and Kami only makes it move faster and faster. Every year has become quicker in it's completion and I am coming to realize that our relationship will evolve and change as she grows into the person God created her to be. We have such a special bond now. She is somewhere between a little girl and a young lady. Her body is changing and she pushes back, gently, but exerts her need for self expression. All the while, hanging onto my hand and needing to cuddle at night with me and listen to her say her prayers. When does that stop? I hope never but I know someday.

So my job as a mother bird is to nurture this blessed soul and then gently push her out of the nest to let her fly away on her own. And all with the hope that she will return over and over again and share her love and joy of life while I listen anxiously and proudly of her journey through womanhood.

Oh my gosh. I do want to do it all over again; slow it down. Take each moment and savor it. Stop and breathe in the beauty of each step. Her sweet little baby voice. Her baby powder smell. The way she scrunches up her nose when she laughs. The way she laughs no matter whether she falls or actually makes it up the two step slide. The sheer innocence and utter ecstasy of her pure life - where every second is a new experience.

If we could only bottle that life would be so much more fun wouldn't it?

Did I say more to come?

I have struggled as to whether to step back and "super document" how I almost lost my dear husband. Because it feels like stepping back to fear, I have decided not to do it. I will, however, close this off by saying that he is recovering very well. His cholesterol was super high with reversed numbers, he is diabetic, has super high blood pressure and his thyroid simply does not work.

Suffice to say that he has not been to his physician in over 6 years. And at that time he was warned, given a statin drug and made a decision not to take it. He is certainly very regretful because his left carotid artery is almost completely blocked and his chance of reoccurrence is between 30 -50%.

I always said that if you don't want to go to the doctor for yourself, go for your child. She needs her parents. So I will end this chapter by saying that I hope you will all learn your "numbers". Go on that statin drug if need be. They are a miracle truly! Eat properly and exercise. Even if you hate it. In this great big world you are loved by so many (even more than you realize!) and you owe it to those loves in your life to know just how well you are doing.

Thank God we were so lucky. It could have been so much worse. I now appreciate each day in an entirely different way and am thankful for each breath and for all of you, my friends.

A month in a week... Part One

It happened late last Friday night. I was speaking with a friend of my husband's, patiently listening to the details of his divorce. It seemed like the perfect moment had come for me to give the phone to Gary. I slid the phone into his hand and continued typing on Facebook. There wasn't a word. I said, "Say hello, Gary. Steve is on the phone." Silence. "Come on Gary..." I thought in that second - maybe he's asleep. So I leaned towards him and nudged him, all the while hearing Gary... Gary... Gary... through the receiver.

It was then that I thought - well the joke is over. I looked at him. He was frozen. No movement. His eyes 1/2 open and fixed - one more open than the other. The sides of his lips shuffled side to side slowly and he started to drool. My mind wasn't able to make sense of this. I started to shout his name - trying to get his attention. Nothing. It was as if he was there with me but not there. I then hung up the phone telling Steve something was wrong with Gary and told my husband that I was going to call 911. He looked at me - intensely. Help me - I could see it in his eyes. Help me.

So then I called 911 for the first time in my life. I told the operator that my husband was having a stroke. I thought it was a stroke. I wasn't sure. Something was wrong with him. Please send help. Now. I need an ambulance.

It felt like only a minute had passed and apparently there was a lot of banging at my front door. My daughter had two friends for a sleepover. Kami came and told me she thought that someone was breaking in. I told her to open the door. She had absolutely no idea what was going on. Once they opened the door, the children went and locked themselves in Kami's bedroom. Three police officers, then 4 paramedics, then the head of our Fire Department - our wonderful neighbor. The outside of my home was lit up like a Christmas tree. All of them rushed into my bedroom and surrounded the bed. I stood there, still on the phone with 911 in a sports bra and underwear.

Gary snapped out of it and was looking around the room. It seemed like he was wondering what was going on. Real shock and awe. Later he would tell me that he knew something was going on but simply could not snap out of it. He passed all the paramedic tests with flying colors but I still had him transported to the hospital. I was sure he had a stroke. My friend Jill took me up to the hospital in my car while her husband took the children. It was so fast.

(Sidenote - My friend Evan from across the road told me to put some clothes on because the paramedics were adorable. I couldn't believe I was standing there in my underwear! How bloody embarrassing!)

They did a variety of tests and kept him overnight. The conclusion was that he had had a TIA - a Transcient Ischemic Attack - or a mini-stroke. At noon the discharged him and he came home.

We spent a comfortable night at home. Hopefully the worst was over.

Sunday began uneventfully. However, by four in the afternoon, Gary was unable to talk properly or read. I became "Yeshi". What I later learned was that this is called "Word Salad". It makes perfect sense to the speaker. He isn't hearing the garble. Just saying it. Needless to say, I found this quite alarming so after a quick phone call, we went back to the hospital. Was it another stroke? They didn't know at the hospital however a call from emergency to my GP scheduled an MRI and echos of his heart and carotid artery for Monday at 11:00 AM. He was released yet again. And my mind entered the revolving door of what ifs.

Stupid Angst...

So today something occurred that made me realize that I am completely over sensitive to loud voices; arguments, shouting. The deepest part of my incredibly sensitive self cannot tolerate this unkindness and lack of respect in any way.

Because I am very in tune to the feelings of others, I cannot imagine making my point by being disrespectful or demeaning another person. Thoughtful, intelligent discussion really is the best way to communicate your point. A woman whom I work with (not for) is elderly and deaf (she has hearing aids but will not wear them). I have never had an personal issue with her and we have always gotten along very well. We are all in the process of developing this year's fund raising event.

The other board members are my age or elderly. This woman took issue with everyone's ideas. As the meeting progressed, she became more and more aggressive. Unfortunately, I was to present the last issue which involved invitation printing. Because I am a designer, I often do these things for my select non-profits free of charge. I must say that I am quite good at it which is a reason I make my living through creative endeavors. My creativity, however, was not at issue. Because they choose a postcard format, they have little space for their verbiage - yes - a lot! So the typeset gets smaller with the more they say. A larger card is not an option they want to consider. Always limitations to work within.

Well - this woman said something and I asked her to repeat it because I didn't hear her clearly (crowded coffee shop and very noisy). She stood, postured me and started screaming. I was absolutely horrified. I can't remember anyone ever doing this to me short of my mother. I made a time out sign with my hands. I think my brain shut down. To that - she just got louder. Nastier. More disrespectful.

My instinct was to get up and leave but I knew none of this had anything to do with me. It was all her stuff. However, I got so angry I wanted to hit her. The louder she got, the more I wanted to hurt her. To shut her up. To tell her she was a nasty old cow. However, I have always been taught to respect my elders. So I bit my tongue and let her go on her tirade. I quit talking because I realized she couldn't hear me and had decided that she was going to do whatever it took to make her point. Hmmm... that she couldn't read small print any longer? Is this my fault? Certainly not having outlined the limitations clearly.

When she was done, I was so angry I stopped talking for the rest of the meeting. I froze. I wanted to cry. Crying is not an appropriate response to anger. I didn't want to appear weak. So I shut up. I let her bully me. Of course, she looked like a fool. But when she left, I looked at the other ladies and said that my time was more valuable than working with this ungrateful and nasty old woman and that I had enough stress let alone this on top of it.

So - now that I have allowed her to ruin my day, I realize that the upset stomach and pain I feel is the little girl in me who watched her parents fight nightly at the dining table. I have chosen a peaceful life where I can just discuss my emotions and hope to be heard. I am simply not into that kind of madness. I am all for constructive criticism and honest, open discussion. But I will not sit through another tirade like I did today. I will set the boundaries I had no power to set as a child.

So now comes a peaceful confrontation. Is that possible? One word is calm. The other is aggressive. I do believe in saying nothing until you have to right words. What I will hope for is a way to forgive this woman for what felt like a personal attack so I can move beyond it to the greater lesson. And I will cross my fingers that someone puts me down before I ever treat another human being the way I was treated today.

Purging

I believe that unresolved emotional pain will continue to regurgitate itself in ways we may not understand. We all carry our share of heartache but some resonates very deep or touches the part of us at our most vulnerable. To say this doesn't mean that these feelings are ever present - it just means they remain unanswered and pulse, only occassionally, like a star in the night.

Because I counsel grief and because it is most especially a difficult time for many of us, I hold others pain confidentially. Some of it resonates in my soul and speaks softly and clearly to me of old wounds never resolved. Sure, I have worked on my issues. Many times. Many times. My growth has been 100 fold and I am incredibly proud of the strength and esteem I have gathered through my life experiences. Most especially, I have retained my empathy and compassion; my giant heart. It is the quality of goodness that I hold and work intently to maintain. However, there is still that voice of certain unresolve and it leaves me confused, yet clear.

I want to address this clearly before I write. I am married to the most amazing man who is patient and tolerant of me. He is simply who he is; a husband who loves me for who I am. We are the best of friends, truly, and walk parallel to each other in this life. He is aware of all of my goodness and all of the sidesteps I have made during our times together. He also knows the whys. He has made his own sidesteps and he is also filled with goodness. His most amazing quality if that of acceptance and forgiveness. I have become more about the grace of offering these gifts in knowing him. It is like any marriage - not perfect. Perhaps many of you have that yourselves. But it is wonderful just the same because we learn more and experience more with each other. And that is where I am at this time. And I am content and happy.

Sarah MacLachlan sings, "I will not forget you." She and this song is a part of that relational confusion of my past. I once completely and totally loved a man who promised me more than he ever knew he was able to give. I believe in his giving heart, there was a sincere wish to be able to give me what I was missing due to my childhood abuse, lack of self esteem, emotional pain and my intense sadness at never being enough for anyone. I also made him promises but was crippled by the tape playing in head that for whatever reason continued to tell me I did not deserve this kind of love. We came together and separated many times. There were issues on my side. Issues on his side. I think neither of us was experienced enough to tackle the pain we caused each other, yet the ties of love or fantasy always bound us, even though we both hurt each other terribly. I also want to be clear that he has long since moved on and I am alone in my own unresolved issues. I am sure he cares on some level about my well being; how couldn't he? We grew up together and are formed from those experiences. But some powerful things he said stick and have caused me to feel paralized.

The part that reoccurs for me has to do with my abandonment issues. As an adoptee, I always felt tossed away. This was buried very deep in my subconcious. I was unaware of how this pain affected every facet of my life. My adoptive family was challenging. My father loved me as best as he was able - but he was dealing with an unfulfilling marriage and probably the pain of goals unachieved he hoped he'd reach. He just never got "there" and dealt with his issues by becoming an alcoholic. My mother was angry because her life was not that big beautiful home with the white picket fence. She wanted to be a mother, but expected something other than she got so she took her torment out on her husband and my sister and I. Most unfortunately, my sister & I continue to work at repairing the damage both of our parents inflicted. We are at least able to converse and feel empathy for each other which is big step in this short life.

In my final decision to uproot my life to spend this fantasy life with the person I truly loved more than myself (his perception is different) - I let go of all ties and security that made me feel grounded and safe. My home, my marriage, my business, my friends, my family, my inner security, etc. You must also know that some of those issues were easy to let go. Others were incredibly challenging of course. But I was totally convinced - truly and honestly - this is from the tips of my toes for sure - that I was meant to be with this person. He was my soul mate. I believed that. He made me believe that.

A few weeks - maybe two or three - before the complete transformation of my life, I was visiting him and we were having a coffee and a cinnamon roll at Heartland. It is a place long since gone but that I loved to go to. I just loved that I could "be" with him. I did have concerns because he would hold things and then I would feel punished when he brought them up. It was at that moment he told me that he really wanted to finish his degree. I would never stop someone I loved from doing anything that meant the world for them so I asked him if that was what he really wanted. It was that. Not to be selfish - but at that moment, I really needed it to be me. Partially because of all I had given up... because I needed his strength and love to anchor myself and because I was so frightened. I would say more accurately paralized with terror.
At any other time or under any other circumstance, I would have been completely open to it. But I had my work obligation to fulfill to my mentor and I simply had to work. I had signed a lease. I had to move. I had rented my home. I had to leave.

Then the words that changed the course or path of my life. I told him if that's what he wanted, then he must do what he needs to. At that moment, something slammed shut. The tapes began to run endlessly - "no one will ever love you as much as I do". Words he had uttered to me over and over again. At that moment I felt completely unlovable. I felt like a fire hydrant that had been pissed on. The pain was so deep and because my heart was closed, I was unable to express it. I couldn't even tell anyone about it that was a close friend. I was ashamed. I felt unworthy. The pain was devastating to say the least and transformed my entire life. The path I was excited to take was blocked by a giant boulder of my minds creation. And I shrunk to the size of an infant. Unable to make any decision about anything because I was in incredible pain.

And at that moment I had to make it over. I didn't say it. I never was honest about it. But I knew it from that moment. The guilt I feel for being dishonest hurts me to this day because he meant so much to me. He hurt me horribly by not considering what I had done to clear the path for us to be together. The very fact that I was unable to share my truth hurts me to this day. My pride has kept me from expressing this to this day. But the only way to let it go is to express it and ask myself for forgiveness for what could have been. What I thought should have been at that time. And I need to find the room to forgive him as well because I hold the memory of him as an arrogant, self centered person with no regard for the sacrifices I had made. He remains one who holds anything I say in a critical manner only to regurgitate it at a time he feels appropriate in order to hurt or shame me.

Somewhere, many years ago, I knew on some level he was unable to give me what he promised because in all the times he was able to fulfill his promises in words, he would regress and pull back. So I was definitely not the right person for him to be sure. I just wish he could have been honest with me as well. I guess we'll never know. Maybe in the next life when we come together again to dance the dance. I see myself as a sage so hopefully I have finally learned my lesson in this relationship.

So I have said it. That that moment altered the course of my life forever. Everything I believed had to change. I was completely resistant to it which came out in the form of a total nervous breakdown leaving me with anxiety issues and debilitating panic attacks where every painful part of my past was exposed like a fresh burn. It was the most painful time of my life. It was also the greatest gift of my life. I learned that love is expressed through actions. I knew I had expressed my love through my actions so I felt no guilt. I came to believe none of the words were true and accepted that I was part of a larger plan to fulfill someone else's desires or goals. Boy that was a tough one to accept considering how enmeshed my mind was in his life. I was in such dire need of his validation and love while at the same time stubbornly reacted to him when he would try to influence my thinking. I wanted to maintain this false sense of independence I thought I had. And with that had to come the person who learned her worth was far more than what she did for a living or for others. That I mattered and that I deserved to be loved and cared for simply for the way I was created. I had to tell myself repeated that I was perfect in every way - that I just needed to fine tune my heart and be very careful who I shared it with.

So there you have it. He reenters my life in my dream space. Some are so beautiful. Some very hurtful. All connect with special memories, both joyous and painful. All teach me about growth and loss. It can be incredibly confusing however, because of these mindful teachings, I find I am able to express myself in ways I may have once found fearful.

So to sum it up - the "beauty" of youth is truly wasted on the young of age. Only when we mature, do we find the real answers we search for about and within ourselves. And in that, we can make informed, intellectual choices that truly suit our life goals and dreams. Mine ended up coming true for me but on an altered and crippled path. Not how I would have chosen to accomplish them in a perfect world. Truly, I wouldn't wish to experience any of that pain again however, it brought me to this amazingly beautiful place in my life. And for that, I am grateful. Very grateful.

Summer Vacation or Staycation?

They say that all a child wants is for you to be fully present and without saying, plenty of love and positive validation. My daughter gets all of this, in copious quantities, when we are together. It is hard to be away from the infectious smile and heart full of love she so willingly shares. Someone told me once that spending that quality time with your child is like putting money in the bank. You put that "love" in the bank and when something goes poorly in your relationship (i.e. you argue and say something hurtful) your child makes a "withdrawl" from the hopefully overflowing "love" account. The withdrawl is ALWAYS much more than the deposit ever was. So you have to bank lots and lots of "love" points.

Here I sit worrying about hurting my child by not being able to afford to take her away from Idaho for a short summer get-away. She always asks why we never go "far away" or see the glorious things she sees in magazines. The never is not necessarily so; we did venture to Anaheim, California for her cheerleading competition. That was a big road trip. I was hoping we could visit friends in San Francisco but it just feels so out of our reach. We only have August left to gather funds and life is difficult in the financial department. (You're thinking, tell me something new lady!)

There are a few items of clothing to buy and after school classes to save for. We also have to start saving for a computer for her. So it is really hard to justify a trip given the circumstances. It feels hard and rather confining to feel like you cannot do something you feel you deserve. We could go camping but she really wants to go to the BIG city... I so desperately want to take her. I used to be able to do so many things before we moved to the United States and I work harder than I ever have now. Somehow, I have twisted it all in my mind to feel like despite all of my efforts I am being punished. That is what the economy has done to middle income earners. We are unable to do the small extra things that fill our hearts up and make the journey through all of this difficulty a lot easier to handle.

I know that trips away are never a great investment except that they create the beautiful memories we can hold when our relationships move through the years. The relational part of that feels very important right now. Her life is passing by me too quickly for my liking and I don't want to have any regrets. I want to share love and laughter now while I can. Tomorrow may bring even more difficulty.
So now what do I do? I feel as though I am caught between my love as a parent and my responsibility as a parent. I can only imagine many of you all feel the same issues occurring your own lives. I could use some really good advice here... I am sure I know the answer but I am certainly struggling!

The One Minute Blog

This is my first attempt at a one-minute blog. I am going to time it down to the second and see what flows. Hmmm...
Q. Why do celebrity deaths affect us so deeply?
A. We all believe we have intimate relationships with famous figures. They permeate our lives; our homes, our music, our televisions. We may hear or see them everyday, not unlike our loved ones and friends. I think this leads to a false sense of belief that we are connected on a very personal level.
OK - that was one minute.
Not such a great answer for one minute. How can you express yourself in such a short time?
More on this - we certainly have lost a few iconic celebrity figures in the last few weeks. Walter Cronkite was very much the respected news reporter of his time. He will remain on a pedestal for those of my parent's generation. I am part of the cloning of news programs; the cable TV generation. Every channel has some form of the news broadcast on. Some slant right and some slant left. But none holds the unbiased integrity that Mr. Cronkite had when he was the lead anchor of the evening news. He had the power to sway public thought and opinion. I certainly miss that from what is available now. There is little or no time to analyze any news so one never knows if it is sane or sensational.
Walter Cronkite became part of our home; my parents believed his stories and the emotion used to convey the events. He became a fixture at our dining table so his passing is like the loss of a family member to them. Not totally devastating from a personal standpoint, but certainly heartfelt with great sadness.
There is also an immortality that comes from being viewed through a thin pane of glass. It's as if one was real and then not real. Alive but not so totally. As though famous people live forever. So their loss makes us look at our own mortality more closely. If they are immortal, then how could they die? It brings celebrity back to a human level. We remember we are all the same; that they are not unlike us. So we are drawn in closer.
I would never want to be famous. Not me. I prefer my so called normal, low key life where few know me or care about my daily wanderings. Fame is so pervasive and destructive. And it seems to create a pridefulness that feels unGodly. If we could only be content to simply "be" - wouldn't it feel like a better world? I wonder.

Defining Moment of Humanity...

Have you ever felt you’ve been touched by God in His physical presence on earth?  I looked into the eyes of a homeless man and truly, I felt as though it was like meeting Jesus on earth.  It was as though time stood still in the frame of my vision, yet all around me, life’s movement continued. 

It was late in the afternoon on a breezy SF day.  As I waited and turned, looking for a glimpse of Gail’s car coming east on O’Farrell, there were people bustling about their business.  No sign of the Prius.  I spun west, and as I turned back to the east, a black man stopped in front of me; he was frozen at my eye level holding out two copies of the local street newspaper.  You know, the one that sells for a dollar that homeless people buy and sell to have enough money to get through their day.  I thought quickly and was ready to say no and then I felt something extraordinary.  Call it a flash of intuition.  I said to the man, “maybe I have enough change – can you give me a minute to take a look?”  He then saw I was struggling with a purse too full or too large.  He responded, “Here sweetheart, you can just have a copy.”  I replied, “No… – I want to find my change. I want to pay for it!” Indeed, I found my change purse – gave him a dollar and then looked into it and thought, why not give it all?  He said thank you very kindly.  He then said, “Where are you from?” I told him Canada.  It just seemed easier to say. And then as I was dumping out the rest of my change I looked up into his eyes.  He was well dressed – very clean and neat and was pulling a spotless green rolling suitcase behind him.  By the time of day, I sensed he was on his way to get a meal.  He said to me, “Ma’am, did you know you are a gift to my day? I feel like you are a special child of Jesus. I hope you see that in yourself.”  His words paralyzed me for a moment – and then my eyes glazed over.  I replied, “Please don’t call me ma’am.  I am just me.” To that he responded, “May I give you a hug?” 

I told him I would be honored if he gave me a hug.  As we embraced, I noticed he was absent of the aroma of alcohol and tobacco.  He was clean and aside from a loss of employment or perhaps a mental illness, he was clear in thought and body.

As I released from his grasp, I looked into his eyes and said, “We are no different you and I.  We are just at different places in our lives.  You are very kind and I wish I could do more but I haven’t any more money.” (Which I didn’t in fact – it was not a lie.)

He said, “God bless you – you are very special.  You are.” And I said, “As are you.  Have a good day,” and bid him goodbye.  He slowly turned and walked down the sidewalk. 

It took about 5 minutes for that exchange to sink in.  And then I felt so much sadness.  Pain for his loneliness and my connection to the feelings of being abandoned and living on the street.  Sorrow for never appreciating my own gifts; knowing they are there but never celebrating them.  Believing that I had just been touched by the Holy Spirit; for a moment I felt the presence of Jesus. There was no fear, no shame.  Just love and mutual respect.  If I could have bottled that feeling of humanity, I would carry it forever.

It was the gift of my trip to San Francisco.  A blessing.