The nights I spend dreaming
What of, you will never know
Nor are you allowed to ask.
No questions are allowed
Because I don't have an answer
The door will be open just a bit
there is a light
such a tiny light
Footsteps echo
down a winding staircase
Not a word is spoken
my mind is whirling
faces flashing past
round and round they go
The warmth of a lover's embrace
or a kiss of loneliness
twisted around desire
Of words spoken
that fell on deaf ears
To a blind mind
hearing a would not have helped
drowning in their voices
Grasping at straws
holding onto thorns
A hand reaches down
pulling up into the light
of baby blue eyes
and a heavenly smile
This paper will free me
but only for a moment
An unfinished chapter
that won't grant me rest
Waiting for the sound
that will surely free me
Speak
straight to my heart
while looking into my eyes
Remove the chains of infatuation
replaced by chains of roses
and temptations kiss
that won't be kept at bay
The icy fingers of regret
pull at long flowing hair
This is right
to the lonely mind
and a tortured heart that has been left alone
far too long
The darkness comes to play
wreaking havoc
torturing
blinding
deafening
All lies of desire
all lies of false beliefs
And now I am surrounded by
your honest words
loving embrace
eyes that can see into a soul
Call it love
call it forever
But remember
forever is a long time
forever is just a dream away
April 1998
Revised March 2002
Olivia J. Stuart
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
A December Morning
Christmas is upon us, but it hasn't made me feel excited. One radio station that plays Christmas music, though not the ones I have come to love. I am certain should I hear the favorites it would not matter.
I am in a blah place. Stressors from my home state plague me. Daily I wait for phone calls and updates. I struggle with placing blame upon myself and anger toward one other in particular. I feel upbeat and straight to hopeless. I am hanging in, but only on the margins. I sent out only one Christmas card one week before Christmas. My Christmas presents for home also went out that same day.
The day my husband began cleaning part of the house, I knew I was failing. Any façade of normalcy was not holding up. I cannot bring myself to accomplish more than one task a day. My two I am exhausted and ready to lie on the couch and watch cartoons with my daughter.
Snow surrounding us, and falling continually makes me feel trapped. Even when the beautiful sunlight fills the sky and brightens the world, I feel the cold.
I am sad. So very sad. I don't know how to express this to my loving and kind husband. He certainly does not deserve a wife that is sad. I desperately try to keep up. To get kids ready for the day. One on the bus with water and snack in hand. I struggle to deal with a hyper child left in my care all day long every day. Then it is time to make supper and clean up the mess and begin bedtime routines. But most nights I do not fall into bed exhausted, but rather defeated.
I am fairly certain that my husband does not understand how debilitating sadness can be. How it can control your life and make you eat all day long. How it can make you stare at the walls and barely function.
With him going to work later and coming home earlier, he has been around a lot more. He is seeing more of what isn't being done. Hearing more of the excuses. I think he sees laziness. I think he is slightly disappointed in me. I know I am disappointed in me.
Soon we will know if he gets to visit his family for eleven days. I will remain behind with our kids. My oldest will be adjusting to whatever new reality he has. I will be alone. I can feel the cold and the empty house. I can imagine the smaller meals barely put together. The kids laughing and playing and me retreating from it all.
This new place we are in is quite intimidating at the moment. I have never been one to travel far from home unless necessary. By far I mean more than twenty minutes. I don't know why this is. I know there are places I will want to go, but out of lack of desire to accomplish such a feat, I will remain home. Eleven days is a long time to a lonely heart. Eleven days is an eternity to one trapped in a bubble of sadness.
Make no mistake, though I am sad for his departure, I get it. He doesn't get to see his family as often as I do. I want him to go. I want to share him with his mother. But I want to keep him too.
As this morning progressed, I could only hear him nagging. Or was it lecturing? Get WIC he says. Why? We don't use any of the stuff except bread and eggs. It is an effort I don't have in me to extend to the process. It will be off post, thus out of my comfort zone. Convenience. That is my motto. I did manage to make his two requested drinks and not burn the bacon today. I also managed to get our son on the bus during this time. I know my husband means well. But I also know that he doesn't fully understand and probably doesn't want to accept that I am sad.
Enough of my sad story.
Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas
December 21 2016
I am in a blah place. Stressors from my home state plague me. Daily I wait for phone calls and updates. I struggle with placing blame upon myself and anger toward one other in particular. I feel upbeat and straight to hopeless. I am hanging in, but only on the margins. I sent out only one Christmas card one week before Christmas. My Christmas presents for home also went out that same day.
The day my husband began cleaning part of the house, I knew I was failing. Any façade of normalcy was not holding up. I cannot bring myself to accomplish more than one task a day. My two I am exhausted and ready to lie on the couch and watch cartoons with my daughter.
Snow surrounding us, and falling continually makes me feel trapped. Even when the beautiful sunlight fills the sky and brightens the world, I feel the cold.
I am sad. So very sad. I don't know how to express this to my loving and kind husband. He certainly does not deserve a wife that is sad. I desperately try to keep up. To get kids ready for the day. One on the bus with water and snack in hand. I struggle to deal with a hyper child left in my care all day long every day. Then it is time to make supper and clean up the mess and begin bedtime routines. But most nights I do not fall into bed exhausted, but rather defeated.
I am fairly certain that my husband does not understand how debilitating sadness can be. How it can control your life and make you eat all day long. How it can make you stare at the walls and barely function.
With him going to work later and coming home earlier, he has been around a lot more. He is seeing more of what isn't being done. Hearing more of the excuses. I think he sees laziness. I think he is slightly disappointed in me. I know I am disappointed in me.
Soon we will know if he gets to visit his family for eleven days. I will remain behind with our kids. My oldest will be adjusting to whatever new reality he has. I will be alone. I can feel the cold and the empty house. I can imagine the smaller meals barely put together. The kids laughing and playing and me retreating from it all.
This new place we are in is quite intimidating at the moment. I have never been one to travel far from home unless necessary. By far I mean more than twenty minutes. I don't know why this is. I know there are places I will want to go, but out of lack of desire to accomplish such a feat, I will remain home. Eleven days is a long time to a lonely heart. Eleven days is an eternity to one trapped in a bubble of sadness.
Make no mistake, though I am sad for his departure, I get it. He doesn't get to see his family as often as I do. I want him to go. I want to share him with his mother. But I want to keep him too.
As this morning progressed, I could only hear him nagging. Or was it lecturing? Get WIC he says. Why? We don't use any of the stuff except bread and eggs. It is an effort I don't have in me to extend to the process. It will be off post, thus out of my comfort zone. Convenience. That is my motto. I did manage to make his two requested drinks and not burn the bacon today. I also managed to get our son on the bus during this time. I know my husband means well. But I also know that he doesn't fully understand and probably doesn't want to accept that I am sad.
Enough of my sad story.
Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas
December 21 2016
Tuesday, December 20, 2016
Unexpected Betrayal
My oldest son who is still in an in between place has for the moment forsaken God. My heart breaks at this. Every time he would visit me he would tell me he is an atheist. He would become angry when I mentioned that going to church would be part of his visit. He made Sunday mornings difficult so that by the time I got to church I was shaking from anger. I managed to half force him, half encourage him to volunteer at my church twice. Once I was present and he had a blast. The second time he went alone and argued right up until the moment I introduced him to the lady in charge. Again he had a blast. I was trying desperately to show him church was fun. That he still loved God. I was praying he would want to get back into church.
When he was close to twelve and first moved to his Dad's house, he loved the church they attended. He was very involved in the youth group. He had a good relationship with the pastor. He wanted to be a missionary. But when his Dad moved him farther away from the church, and he could not attend, he lost his zeal. Then the way his father was yelling at him made him doubt God.
The entire time I am telling him to pray. To believe in God's plan for our lives. To pray for understanding of God's plan. To know that all things go according to God's will. I pray for him, I pray with him. I read the Bible to him and the younger two kids. I took him to church when I could. It did not change his mindset.
Fast forward to now. He is in an in between place. A place where neither I nor his Dad are in control at this very moment. I am trying to stand united, to extend an olive branch to his father. He continues to state that he will win. He always wins. This alone angers me, because it is not a game. This is our son. We need to be united, but he refuses to acknowledge me. Despite custody papers that state my right to be involved in this hospital stay, he refuses to involve me. I have gone around him. I have spent hours calling the people in charge, looking for any loophole that can grant me access. I am still only on the edge, but moving closer to being fully acknowledged. I get frustrated at the system. I see how it fails so many, and know that it is going to fail my son, yet I push forward.
Olive branch or not I finally found my edge and I jumped up to it and pushed. This will raise his father's anger once the knowledge of my signature on one piece of paper did. Ha. But still it is not about me winning. It is about fighting for my son, and having to go around to find legal loopholes, well so be it.
I find out from my son that this pastor from his Dad's church went to visit him. At first I am elated. Until I hear he carried no Bible. He offered no prayer, or advice, but he did offer a great guilt trip of how his actions were only hurting his father and that he was completely wrong. And then he went and told my son's dad all about the entire conversation. Really?
Knowing that my son had previously talked to my Dad, I called him. Oh my goodness, this is a reality! My Baptist father who may not attend church regularly was deeply disturbed by this turn of events.
To think that this man is leading a church, it makes you wonder if anything told to him by anyone in that church is held in confidence.
Many years ago, when my son lived with me, he was having some difficulty with life. I reached out to my then Pastor who spent a couple of afternoons with him. To this day I have no idea what they talked about. All my Pastor told me was that he was a good boy. This is how it should be.
At this little visit my son relayed the events that led up to his decision. Instead of being prayed with and for and maybe a little scripture he was made to feel guilty and wrong. His feeling discounted and those of his father more important. At this very moment I am barely restraining myself from contacting this pastor and laying into him. I know I cannot do this right now. I know it may never be the right time, but I will never recommend people to this church. I really thought this guy was great. I had met him a few times. I saw how excited he was for my son to be included in church events even when he was at my house. He made it happen.
I listened to my son rant about how believing in God was crazy. How I had been asking him to pray, to keep the faith. He was betrayed. And I am so confused why this pastor would offer no solace, no scripture, no prayer and then betray his confidence.
Mathew 7:15 Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.
2 Corinthians 11:13 For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ.
December 21, 2016
When he was close to twelve and first moved to his Dad's house, he loved the church they attended. He was very involved in the youth group. He had a good relationship with the pastor. He wanted to be a missionary. But when his Dad moved him farther away from the church, and he could not attend, he lost his zeal. Then the way his father was yelling at him made him doubt God.
The entire time I am telling him to pray. To believe in God's plan for our lives. To pray for understanding of God's plan. To know that all things go according to God's will. I pray for him, I pray with him. I read the Bible to him and the younger two kids. I took him to church when I could. It did not change his mindset.
Fast forward to now. He is in an in between place. A place where neither I nor his Dad are in control at this very moment. I am trying to stand united, to extend an olive branch to his father. He continues to state that he will win. He always wins. This alone angers me, because it is not a game. This is our son. We need to be united, but he refuses to acknowledge me. Despite custody papers that state my right to be involved in this hospital stay, he refuses to involve me. I have gone around him. I have spent hours calling the people in charge, looking for any loophole that can grant me access. I am still only on the edge, but moving closer to being fully acknowledged. I get frustrated at the system. I see how it fails so many, and know that it is going to fail my son, yet I push forward.
Olive branch or not I finally found my edge and I jumped up to it and pushed. This will raise his father's anger once the knowledge of my signature on one piece of paper did. Ha. But still it is not about me winning. It is about fighting for my son, and having to go around to find legal loopholes, well so be it.
I find out from my son that this pastor from his Dad's church went to visit him. At first I am elated. Until I hear he carried no Bible. He offered no prayer, or advice, but he did offer a great guilt trip of how his actions were only hurting his father and that he was completely wrong. And then he went and told my son's dad all about the entire conversation. Really?
Knowing that my son had previously talked to my Dad, I called him. Oh my goodness, this is a reality! My Baptist father who may not attend church regularly was deeply disturbed by this turn of events.
To think that this man is leading a church, it makes you wonder if anything told to him by anyone in that church is held in confidence.
Many years ago, when my son lived with me, he was having some difficulty with life. I reached out to my then Pastor who spent a couple of afternoons with him. To this day I have no idea what they talked about. All my Pastor told me was that he was a good boy. This is how it should be.
At this little visit my son relayed the events that led up to his decision. Instead of being prayed with and for and maybe a little scripture he was made to feel guilty and wrong. His feeling discounted and those of his father more important. At this very moment I am barely restraining myself from contacting this pastor and laying into him. I know I cannot do this right now. I know it may never be the right time, but I will never recommend people to this church. I really thought this guy was great. I had met him a few times. I saw how excited he was for my son to be included in church events even when he was at my house. He made it happen.
I listened to my son rant about how believing in God was crazy. How I had been asking him to pray, to keep the faith. He was betrayed. And I am so confused why this pastor would offer no solace, no scripture, no prayer and then betray his confidence.
Mathew 7:15 Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.
2 Corinthians 11:13 For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ.
December 21, 2016
Monday, December 12, 2016
Sanity's Dream
Effort
in everything
That day
possibly that night
Hunger and thirst
a heat wave settling over the land
Dust rises
covering everything
Like the memory
growing fainter with every breath
Burdens
come with each move
each step toward eternity
Forever
just a word
Maybe a time span
covering more than the dust
leaving behind residue
Gone
yet still here
Lost somewhere
on a road
or maybe a river
Forget
yet, how could you?
A burning kiss
or a searing touch
Seeking relief in the burning tar
the smell
an added relief
Why hurry?
hurry to where?
The next phase is like a yield sign
barely slowing down
speeding up as you pass
Praying for release
from the demons that hold you
clawing at your skin
driving you beyond sanity
and way beyond desperation
No fear
only pain
Pain is like life
a pinch of reality
keeping you on the move
Down the road
out of state
just a theory
Tearing away the ropes
ropes that are weak
Pulling and pulling
to freedom's doorstep
Falling in a heap
hearing the cries
cries of pain, loss, and hurt
It goes on
the list
it does
To forever's house
with the waves crashing nearby
Sanity
it is here
Twisted around
becoming an insider
Or is that insanity
words
like a slap in the face
or a broken nose
gushing blood
like a sweet red wine
Tasting of salt
what a release
Broken and bloody
where the mind wanders
and there is relief
Let it out
the pain
those thoughts
Intent on destruction
in the grip of the reaper
who takes you away
Away from here
or maybe from over there
or could it be from anywhere?
Olivia J Stuart
Summer 1998
in everything
That day
possibly that night
Hunger and thirst
a heat wave settling over the land
Dust rises
covering everything
Like the memory
growing fainter with every breath
Burdens
come with each move
each step toward eternity
Forever
just a word
Maybe a time span
covering more than the dust
leaving behind residue
Gone
yet still here
Lost somewhere
on a road
or maybe a river
Forget
yet, how could you?
A burning kiss
or a searing touch
Seeking relief in the burning tar
the smell
an added relief
Why hurry?
hurry to where?
The next phase is like a yield sign
barely slowing down
speeding up as you pass
Praying for release
from the demons that hold you
clawing at your skin
driving you beyond sanity
and way beyond desperation
No fear
only pain
Pain is like life
a pinch of reality
keeping you on the move
Down the road
out of state
just a theory
Tearing away the ropes
ropes that are weak
Pulling and pulling
to freedom's doorstep
Falling in a heap
hearing the cries
cries of pain, loss, and hurt
It goes on
the list
it does
To forever's house
with the waves crashing nearby
Sanity
it is here
Twisted around
becoming an insider
Or is that insanity
words
like a slap in the face
or a broken nose
gushing blood
like a sweet red wine
Tasting of salt
what a release
Broken and bloody
where the mind wanders
and there is relief
Let it out
the pain
those thoughts
Intent on destruction
in the grip of the reaper
who takes you away
Away from here
or maybe from over there
or could it be from anywhere?
Olivia J Stuart
Summer 1998
Looking Back
AS my son is in this new reality and his Dad and I are relegated to the sidelines, I have much time to look back on my many failures as his mother.
#1 that I was careless as a young twenty something who conceived a child into less than great circumstances. I am sure though that he was a gift from God to save me. But it was a long road that both my son and I had to walk, mostly alone.
I know now that I most likely had a pretty bad case of Post Partum Depression. I remember the moment I realized that this baby was coming. How I sat and thought this is it. Nothing will ever be the same from here.
My labor really wasn't bad. But I screamed at the pain. I cried for the epidurals. I really tried to quit pushing. He was born at 8:30a.m., after much frustration from the doctor that I had to literally be convinced to push. I remember the sun was shining through my window. I remember just before he slipped out of me, that they had given me an epidural. I only held him for a moment before they whisked him to the nursery.
My Second biggest regret is that I refused to even consider breast feeding him. I remember at my first visit when they were asking me how I felt, I told them I didn't want him. I was pretty sure my Dad would kill me when he found out. Obviously he didn't. But then as the pregnancy progressed I expressed my desire to keep him. Just to note that not once did any of the staff think that I should be monitored more or talked to more. I guess they just accepted that young unwed mothers often refuse to bond with the baby they carry within their womb. So not one did I ever consider breast feeding. I am not sure I could have anyway. I was so full of churning emotions and self loathing.
So as I am waking up from the stupor, I think closer to 11a.m. I am thinking to myself how I don't really want to wake up. I don't really want them to bring that baby back in here. But of course they do. Of course he is such a cutie. And he looks just like his Dad who swears that he could not belong to him.
I bring this baby back to my house. My mom driving us home in her white older Buick. She was in love with this little baby. I was confused by him. I was lost as what to do with him. My sister began to stay with me. She was in college and working. Somehow I came to expect her to be his caregiver. We fought a lot about how she was living with me, but not helping me with him. But really why should she? She was an Aunt. She was living her own life.
At any given moment I would load that baby up and take him to my Mom. They have a very special bond to this day.
He would cry and cry and cry. I would pick him up, put him down, glare at him, cry with him, hug him, pat his back, and put him down. I tried so hard to make him quit crying. But I didn't know how. He was mine, but somehow he wasn't exactly mine.
A deep depression set in. He was born late July. I was doing okay. Just trying to piece my life back together. Thanks be to my Dad for supplementing my income where the Welfare left off. But it became a reality that I had to go back to work. My son began his life in childcare at 5weeks old. It wouldn't be until he was nearly 11 that I could stay home with him.
I tried to put on a strong façade. I tried to make up for the fact that during this time his father was absent. He met his father for the first time just a few weeks shy of turning one. Yet, I am now facing the challenges of why I didn't care enough to fight for him. It is so much more complicated than that.
I ran into some of my old non kid friends that still smoked and partied some and since they were the only ones that were really reaching out to me, guess what road I started down. It was a very dark and lonely road. It was sometimes dangerous. It made my father deeply sad and my mother to tell everyone that I was shoving my son off on her, which by the way is mostly true. Unfortunately my parents were my enablers. I am deeply grateful for all that they did, but I couldn't pull myself up from the darkness. I was surrounded by darkness. I was alone. I hated myself and all that I had done that led me to that exact point in my life.
My 2003 I was at the end of a bad run of quitting jobs, self destruction through very heavy drinking, and bad relationships. I am here to tell you that during that time I was a bar fly and I was looking for love in all the wrong places. If someone asked me to dance, well they could by my future. It was a bad place to be. But all through this I loved my son. I wanted him to be happy. I spoiled him. But I was at a place where after work I would pick him up from daycare, take him to a fast food place get him something to eat, me nothing, and drive endlessly around our tiny town until it was time for him to go to bed.
I told my Dad and he said I was being silly. He was in a very stressful situation at work. He honestly didn't know how to deal with depression or the signs. I told my mother who had her own set of issues. She told me all about how bad things were for her. and to get over myself. So there I was sitting in my truck with a three year old boy and a bunch of broken dreams and dying slowly from the inside out.
I honestly don't know when I was able to get past that point, but I know I did. I ended up working at a Cell Phone place and finding a new meaning to my life. But it was a dark place too.
I feel the need to get this all out. To let others peak into my reality. To know that I am going to seek help for depression, because it still pulls me down. It still drives me to binge eat. To feel alone, to see darkness despite the sun. But there are many good days and a good husband helps me a lot.
Please let the Lord work on my son while he is in this middle ground.
B. Alwildia Garcia
December 10 2016
#1 that I was careless as a young twenty something who conceived a child into less than great circumstances. I am sure though that he was a gift from God to save me. But it was a long road that both my son and I had to walk, mostly alone.
I know now that I most likely had a pretty bad case of Post Partum Depression. I remember the moment I realized that this baby was coming. How I sat and thought this is it. Nothing will ever be the same from here.
My labor really wasn't bad. But I screamed at the pain. I cried for the epidurals. I really tried to quit pushing. He was born at 8:30a.m., after much frustration from the doctor that I had to literally be convinced to push. I remember the sun was shining through my window. I remember just before he slipped out of me, that they had given me an epidural. I only held him for a moment before they whisked him to the nursery.
My Second biggest regret is that I refused to even consider breast feeding him. I remember at my first visit when they were asking me how I felt, I told them I didn't want him. I was pretty sure my Dad would kill me when he found out. Obviously he didn't. But then as the pregnancy progressed I expressed my desire to keep him. Just to note that not once did any of the staff think that I should be monitored more or talked to more. I guess they just accepted that young unwed mothers often refuse to bond with the baby they carry within their womb. So not one did I ever consider breast feeding. I am not sure I could have anyway. I was so full of churning emotions and self loathing.
So as I am waking up from the stupor, I think closer to 11a.m. I am thinking to myself how I don't really want to wake up. I don't really want them to bring that baby back in here. But of course they do. Of course he is such a cutie. And he looks just like his Dad who swears that he could not belong to him.
I bring this baby back to my house. My mom driving us home in her white older Buick. She was in love with this little baby. I was confused by him. I was lost as what to do with him. My sister began to stay with me. She was in college and working. Somehow I came to expect her to be his caregiver. We fought a lot about how she was living with me, but not helping me with him. But really why should she? She was an Aunt. She was living her own life.
At any given moment I would load that baby up and take him to my Mom. They have a very special bond to this day.
He would cry and cry and cry. I would pick him up, put him down, glare at him, cry with him, hug him, pat his back, and put him down. I tried so hard to make him quit crying. But I didn't know how. He was mine, but somehow he wasn't exactly mine.
A deep depression set in. He was born late July. I was doing okay. Just trying to piece my life back together. Thanks be to my Dad for supplementing my income where the Welfare left off. But it became a reality that I had to go back to work. My son began his life in childcare at 5weeks old. It wouldn't be until he was nearly 11 that I could stay home with him.
I tried to put on a strong façade. I tried to make up for the fact that during this time his father was absent. He met his father for the first time just a few weeks shy of turning one. Yet, I am now facing the challenges of why I didn't care enough to fight for him. It is so much more complicated than that.
I ran into some of my old non kid friends that still smoked and partied some and since they were the only ones that were really reaching out to me, guess what road I started down. It was a very dark and lonely road. It was sometimes dangerous. It made my father deeply sad and my mother to tell everyone that I was shoving my son off on her, which by the way is mostly true. Unfortunately my parents were my enablers. I am deeply grateful for all that they did, but I couldn't pull myself up from the darkness. I was surrounded by darkness. I was alone. I hated myself and all that I had done that led me to that exact point in my life.
My 2003 I was at the end of a bad run of quitting jobs, self destruction through very heavy drinking, and bad relationships. I am here to tell you that during that time I was a bar fly and I was looking for love in all the wrong places. If someone asked me to dance, well they could by my future. It was a bad place to be. But all through this I loved my son. I wanted him to be happy. I spoiled him. But I was at a place where after work I would pick him up from daycare, take him to a fast food place get him something to eat, me nothing, and drive endlessly around our tiny town until it was time for him to go to bed.
I told my Dad and he said I was being silly. He was in a very stressful situation at work. He honestly didn't know how to deal with depression or the signs. I told my mother who had her own set of issues. She told me all about how bad things were for her. and to get over myself. So there I was sitting in my truck with a three year old boy and a bunch of broken dreams and dying slowly from the inside out.
I honestly don't know when I was able to get past that point, but I know I did. I ended up working at a Cell Phone place and finding a new meaning to my life. But it was a dark place too.
I feel the need to get this all out. To let others peak into my reality. To know that I am going to seek help for depression, because it still pulls me down. It still drives me to binge eat. To feel alone, to see darkness despite the sun. But there are many good days and a good husband helps me a lot.
Please let the Lord work on my son while he is in this middle ground.
B. Alwildia Garcia
December 10 2016
Sunday, December 11, 2016
Shards of Music
The pain
it never ends
really
it doesn't
The days are spent driving
The nights are spent in solitude
Why Cry?
Why you waste energy on such nonsense
Just listen to the radio
It will always be there for you
The music
It is so much like a book
And often similar to a photo album
A diary
that holds your deepest secrets and wipes away the tears, or brings about a smile
Each song is like a memory
Or a day long ago
And there is always now
There is the song for your first crush
ending in a kiss
the sweet taste of temptation
The songs for all the time spent at the ball park
the skating rink
or just hanging out with your friends
The song for the day your world changed
When freedom's road opened up for you
The day you got your driver's license
The nights you spent driving around
The dates that you had
The hours you spent with only the radio
When innocence was lost
There was a song
It echoed the feeling of hidden pleasure
Every little crush, there was a song
Even when they ended in broken hearts
Prom Night
And the song you will remember forever
Graduation
Freedom
The songs for a new beginning
The first summer
Then year
when we all change
But the music remains
There is always a song
One for every moment in time
written for an era
played for an eternity
What it means to each of us, does not matter to anyone else
We must all be satisfied with who we are
Then we shall have happiness at our feet
Listening to each song
To every word
Letting it carry you away
Into someone's arms
or a special place
Each verse
a face
a touch
a kiss
Maybe a scenic river valley
or a lonely road
we never know where we will end up
Life passes us by
Leaving a residue of change
That helps us to cling to each song
For to forget a song
would be like forgetting a part of us
Each song affects our lives in some way
And shapes our moods, relationships, and personalities
The roads we travel
The rivers we cross
The bridges that we burn
There will always be a song
One that seems to be written about our lives
Maturing
Becoming an adult
We always change
Just as the music changes
True love, some will find it and along comes a powerful song
One about undying love and watching another sleep
Secure in the fact that you are there
A touch, gentle yet commanding
A burning need, that only a song can truly express
The words are like a kiss, hungry for more, and speaking of angels and forever
A memory comes to life through each song
Some songs help define a new memory of things going on right now, and you will never forget them
Sleeping
dreaming
the song closes, and so will our eyes
And there behind close lids we see or feel that someone or something
The song takes us away
Embraces us in a secure feeling
The feeling of inner peace
Pain inflicted by one so close
And the song becomes a knife to the soul
Dreams shatter
and the song becomes a mirror mimicking the pain and torturing the soul
The music
It is our soul mate
our first and last true love
the one that will never let you down
What we strive to be is written and played out with each new line
Falling upon deaf or hungry ears
Opening or closing the eyes
Grabbing and shoving aside
Each beat is like our heart beat
Pounding away our lives
the world goes on with our without us
The music is never ending
Only a beginning for each new day
We dance away our lives with each gentle strain
Turing this way or that way
Note after note
Step after Step
The words echoing forever
What we loved in life will be engraved in our heads as we lie motionless
The words begin
Telling the story of our lives
sharing our hopes and dreams
The casket will close
The music will grow fainter
and on into the afterlife
The music will give us eternal life
For the songs we love now
Will always be there for the ones we left behind
We will always seek out a song
One for us
For life or death it matters not
Olivia J Stuart
Spring 1998
Updated March 2002
Revised December 11, 2016
it never ends
really
it doesn't
The days are spent driving
The nights are spent in solitude
Why Cry?
Why you waste energy on such nonsense
Just listen to the radio
It will always be there for you
The music
It is so much like a book
And often similar to a photo album
A diary
that holds your deepest secrets and wipes away the tears, or brings about a smile
Each song is like a memory
Or a day long ago
And there is always now
There is the song for your first crush
ending in a kiss
the sweet taste of temptation
The songs for all the time spent at the ball park
the skating rink
or just hanging out with your friends
The song for the day your world changed
When freedom's road opened up for you
The day you got your driver's license
The nights you spent driving around
The dates that you had
The hours you spent with only the radio
When innocence was lost
There was a song
It echoed the feeling of hidden pleasure
Every little crush, there was a song
Even when they ended in broken hearts
Prom Night
And the song you will remember forever
Graduation
Freedom
The songs for a new beginning
The first summer
Then year
when we all change
But the music remains
There is always a song
One for every moment in time
written for an era
played for an eternity
What it means to each of us, does not matter to anyone else
We must all be satisfied with who we are
Then we shall have happiness at our feet
Listening to each song
To every word
Letting it carry you away
Into someone's arms
or a special place
Each verse
a face
a touch
a kiss
Maybe a scenic river valley
or a lonely road
we never know where we will end up
Life passes us by
Leaving a residue of change
That helps us to cling to each song
For to forget a song
would be like forgetting a part of us
Each song affects our lives in some way
And shapes our moods, relationships, and personalities
The roads we travel
The rivers we cross
The bridges that we burn
There will always be a song
One that seems to be written about our lives
Maturing
Becoming an adult
We always change
Just as the music changes
True love, some will find it and along comes a powerful song
One about undying love and watching another sleep
Secure in the fact that you are there
A touch, gentle yet commanding
A burning need, that only a song can truly express
The words are like a kiss, hungry for more, and speaking of angels and forever
A memory comes to life through each song
Some songs help define a new memory of things going on right now, and you will never forget them
Sleeping
dreaming
the song closes, and so will our eyes
And there behind close lids we see or feel that someone or something
The song takes us away
Embraces us in a secure feeling
The feeling of inner peace
Pain inflicted by one so close
And the song becomes a knife to the soul
Dreams shatter
and the song becomes a mirror mimicking the pain and torturing the soul
The music
It is our soul mate
our first and last true love
the one that will never let you down
What we strive to be is written and played out with each new line
Falling upon deaf or hungry ears
Opening or closing the eyes
Grabbing and shoving aside
Each beat is like our heart beat
Pounding away our lives
the world goes on with our without us
The music is never ending
Only a beginning for each new day
We dance away our lives with each gentle strain
Turing this way or that way
Note after note
Step after Step
The words echoing forever
What we loved in life will be engraved in our heads as we lie motionless
The words begin
Telling the story of our lives
sharing our hopes and dreams
The casket will close
The music will grow fainter
and on into the afterlife
The music will give us eternal life
For the songs we love now
Will always be there for the ones we left behind
We will always seek out a song
One for us
For life or death it matters not
Olivia J Stuart
Spring 1998
Updated March 2002
Revised December 11, 2016
Rocking to and Fro
The dead of night, and he wakes
Crying from pain
from the need for comfort
Here I am Angel
Mommy has come to make it better
A dry diaper
A cup of water
Our fuzzy blanket
And your little stuffed ghost
Away we go to our rocking chair,
Our escape from reality
Cuddle against my breast
Relax in my arms
Close your eyes and drift away
Rocking to and fro
With the darkness all around
The silence is comforting to me
Imagine my Angel how many miles we have put on this chair
Rocking to and fro
Whether day or night
Together we rock
There have been many nights spent in this chair
Just the two of us surrounded by the darkness
Rocking to and fro
The first year rocked away
The next five months, you discovered the magic of this chair
Climbing into the chair
Rocking to and fro
Either playing or napping
You made it yours
This chair is our connection to each other
And to the magic of our dreams
This chair is our traveling machine
Becoming our escape
by just rocking to and fro in the dead of night together
Olivia J. Stuart
Winter 2001/2002
Dedicated to my oldest son M. A. B.
Crying from pain
from the need for comfort
Here I am Angel
Mommy has come to make it better
A dry diaper
A cup of water
Our fuzzy blanket
And your little stuffed ghost
Away we go to our rocking chair,
Our escape from reality
Cuddle against my breast
Relax in my arms
Close your eyes and drift away
Rocking to and fro
With the darkness all around
The silence is comforting to me
Imagine my Angel how many miles we have put on this chair
Rocking to and fro
Whether day or night
Together we rock
There have been many nights spent in this chair
Just the two of us surrounded by the darkness
Rocking to and fro
The first year rocked away
The next five months, you discovered the magic of this chair
Climbing into the chair
Rocking to and fro
Either playing or napping
You made it yours
This chair is our connection to each other
And to the magic of our dreams
This chair is our traveling machine
Becoming our escape
by just rocking to and fro in the dead of night together
Olivia J. Stuart
Winter 2001/2002
Dedicated to my oldest son M. A. B.
Saturday, December 10, 2016
I Am The One...
I am the one who made the decision to carry whatever it was we did not have to that next fateful step.
I am the one who knew the moment that baby was conceived.
Who denied it to herself.
Who tried so hard to push past the constant fatigue.
Margarita night was the night I knew for sure.
Always able to down those hefty margaritas until that one night when they did not stay down.
I cried. I worried. I stressed. I wanted to die.
I was afraid. Pride and Disappointment were foremost in my mind. Fear followed closely behind.
Newly divorced. Finally getting my life back in order after being cast aside by one not worthy.
The job is good, I kind of like the anonymity it gives me.
Disappearing into the cold to package frozen eggs, sausage and cheese.
Picking up from the ashes of dream laid to ruin by one who never cared.
Infatuated by the new older neighbor who happened to be a cop.
Mysterious and funny.
With plenty of alcohol to go around.
I wanted to fit in.
I wanted to be in control of my life for once.
I wanted to matter.
When I told him of what was to be he laughed at me.
He said it was not a possibility, he was so much older than me.
Oh but it was true.
I lost the job and the insurance.
Morning sickness so bad it brought me to the porcelain God everywhere I went. From the moment my feet hit the floor until finally collapsing in exhaustion, I was sick.
I could keep down smoothies, and later on craved salads.
I puked so much and in so many places I became with what brands of toilets were most commonly in public places. The cold and dirty floors beneath me giving me the penance I felt I deserved. I drank until after the New Year. Then I sat on the floor and prayed to God, If this is going to be how it is, then so be it. Just get me through.
With deep regret this Daddy's Girl told her father she was pregnant. I watched the emotions play across his face. Then the anger at me settled in. He had many fears about what this baby would turn out. But at that time in his life he was most worried about how this would ruin his reputation. Reputation really mattered to him during this time.
Thus I began a journey of very little support. Of bribery to not name my child a name of my choosing, but rather one of the family names. I was working at Mcdonald's, not pulling my own weight. Avoiding my bed at my father's house, choosing instead to sleep on the couch at my mother's house.
My father felt like this was his shame.
But what he never realized is that I was ashamed enough for all of us. That I actually hated myself so badly during this time. I tried so hard to loose this baby. I even at one point seriously considered adoption. I Knew in my heart I wasn't ready. I knew I was going to be doing this alone. That I was not mature enough. That I was damaged.
Damaged.
That is putting it lightly.
But then somewhere along the way after I had finally kicked the habit of smoking until I nearly coughed up a lung, I decided that I could change, I could try.
I was not a beautiful pregnant girl. Not by a long shot. I was an already too skinny girl carrying a huge belly. My butt got bigger, my belly was huge, my shoe size went up one size. I worked a Mcdonald's. But I did manage to get on Welfare in order to get a place of my own. I was trying to be the change. I was trying to be positive.
For a little while, I actually had a great relationship with my own mother. I can honestly say that at that time she was the only one who believed in me. The only one who got me through that dark time.
I carry a lot of battle scars, and this pregnancy is one of the biggest.
I didn't know God during this time. All I knew was that I was about to have a baby.
December 10, 2016
B. Alwildia Garcia
I am the one who knew the moment that baby was conceived.
Who denied it to herself.
Who tried so hard to push past the constant fatigue.
Margarita night was the night I knew for sure.
Always able to down those hefty margaritas until that one night when they did not stay down.
I cried. I worried. I stressed. I wanted to die.
I was afraid. Pride and Disappointment were foremost in my mind. Fear followed closely behind.
Newly divorced. Finally getting my life back in order after being cast aside by one not worthy.
The job is good, I kind of like the anonymity it gives me.
Disappearing into the cold to package frozen eggs, sausage and cheese.
Picking up from the ashes of dream laid to ruin by one who never cared.
Infatuated by the new older neighbor who happened to be a cop.
Mysterious and funny.
With plenty of alcohol to go around.
I wanted to fit in.
I wanted to be in control of my life for once.
I wanted to matter.
When I told him of what was to be he laughed at me.
He said it was not a possibility, he was so much older than me.
Oh but it was true.
I lost the job and the insurance.
Morning sickness so bad it brought me to the porcelain God everywhere I went. From the moment my feet hit the floor until finally collapsing in exhaustion, I was sick.
I could keep down smoothies, and later on craved salads.
I puked so much and in so many places I became with what brands of toilets were most commonly in public places. The cold and dirty floors beneath me giving me the penance I felt I deserved. I drank until after the New Year. Then I sat on the floor and prayed to God, If this is going to be how it is, then so be it. Just get me through.
With deep regret this Daddy's Girl told her father she was pregnant. I watched the emotions play across his face. Then the anger at me settled in. He had many fears about what this baby would turn out. But at that time in his life he was most worried about how this would ruin his reputation. Reputation really mattered to him during this time.
Thus I began a journey of very little support. Of bribery to not name my child a name of my choosing, but rather one of the family names. I was working at Mcdonald's, not pulling my own weight. Avoiding my bed at my father's house, choosing instead to sleep on the couch at my mother's house.
My father felt like this was his shame.
But what he never realized is that I was ashamed enough for all of us. That I actually hated myself so badly during this time. I tried so hard to loose this baby. I even at one point seriously considered adoption. I Knew in my heart I wasn't ready. I knew I was going to be doing this alone. That I was not mature enough. That I was damaged.
Damaged.
That is putting it lightly.
But then somewhere along the way after I had finally kicked the habit of smoking until I nearly coughed up a lung, I decided that I could change, I could try.
I was not a beautiful pregnant girl. Not by a long shot. I was an already too skinny girl carrying a huge belly. My butt got bigger, my belly was huge, my shoe size went up one size. I worked a Mcdonald's. But I did manage to get on Welfare in order to get a place of my own. I was trying to be the change. I was trying to be positive.
For a little while, I actually had a great relationship with my own mother. I can honestly say that at that time she was the only one who believed in me. The only one who got me through that dark time.
I carry a lot of battle scars, and this pregnancy is one of the biggest.
I didn't know God during this time. All I knew was that I was about to have a baby.
December 10, 2016
B. Alwildia Garcia
Who am I but just the Mother
My life has recently turned a corner that I never expected to round.
When a normal bedtime routine so far from Home of Record was disturbed by a phone call.
The other parent, whom I do not always agree with, is calling me.
"What? He is where? Why? How long? How did this happen?"
The smirk in his voice turning sour this nights earlier dinner. I am at once on alert, heart clenching in disbelief. All summer long the words my oldest poured forth to me becoming prominent in my mind. The advice my more experienced Father giving to shrug it off now becomes the question of "Was I wrong?"
I walk a normal balance of eggshells between a quiet normalcy and gut wrenching depression monster looming over me. Especially now. In a new place, a new house, a new climate. So far from my oldest, my comfort zone.
Things with my oldest were not always the best while I was living back home. He would come into the house like a thunder cloud of destruction. Almost hell bent on making our visit nothing but a shouting match. Determined to cut me as low as he could. I would rise up, knowing my emotional stability would crash on Monday after the weekend was over. I chose to continue to love him. I wanted so badly to hug him. But sometimes I couldn't see the sunny side of my son for the raging storm clouds surrounding him.
His age and our financial situation made it a hard decision to decide to ride it out. To many it was just another way of me throwing him to the wolves. But they did not have an insiders view of my house during those visits. Of non stop yelling and smaller kids crying and TVs blaring and kids singing and acquisitions of not loving and playing favorites and throwing one under the bus in order to save two.
I knew I would be moving and I tried to make every moment count. Even when resistance and anger met me every step of the way. I longed to take all three of my beautiful kids to church, but Sunday mornings dawned bright and he refused to budge. Refused to eat. Refused to go unless I yelled. Which I didn't want to do, but I did.
Sometime after moving away I managed to make him take his hatred to a new level. When he called me in a panic for the one hundredth time over something I was certain was untrue, I contacted the other parent. Mostly I have no idea why I did that. I have survived a summer of barely communication with the other. I hear my Son's words and see his father from a distance. There is no united parenting team between us. It is him against me. It has always been this way. My attempts at being neutral and kind are always met with disbelief and fake words. I guess you could say in some ways, I too live in fear. Isn't that why we removed the house we desperately wanted to sell from the market?
I am praying hard, but I have yet to actually pick up my Bible and open it. I read children's Bible stories nightly, but I doubt that is enough to counter the devil on this one. I have reached out to prayer warrior and others for advice.
I want to fight, but am met with much resistance because on paper it says I am just a mother, nothing more. The ball is not in my court and nothing short of a financial miracle and a miracle will change that at this point.
December 12 2016
B. Alwildia Garcia
When a normal bedtime routine so far from Home of Record was disturbed by a phone call.
The other parent, whom I do not always agree with, is calling me.
"What? He is where? Why? How long? How did this happen?"
The smirk in his voice turning sour this nights earlier dinner. I am at once on alert, heart clenching in disbelief. All summer long the words my oldest poured forth to me becoming prominent in my mind. The advice my more experienced Father giving to shrug it off now becomes the question of "Was I wrong?"
I walk a normal balance of eggshells between a quiet normalcy and gut wrenching depression monster looming over me. Especially now. In a new place, a new house, a new climate. So far from my oldest, my comfort zone.
Things with my oldest were not always the best while I was living back home. He would come into the house like a thunder cloud of destruction. Almost hell bent on making our visit nothing but a shouting match. Determined to cut me as low as he could. I would rise up, knowing my emotional stability would crash on Monday after the weekend was over. I chose to continue to love him. I wanted so badly to hug him. But sometimes I couldn't see the sunny side of my son for the raging storm clouds surrounding him.
His age and our financial situation made it a hard decision to decide to ride it out. To many it was just another way of me throwing him to the wolves. But they did not have an insiders view of my house during those visits. Of non stop yelling and smaller kids crying and TVs blaring and kids singing and acquisitions of not loving and playing favorites and throwing one under the bus in order to save two.
I knew I would be moving and I tried to make every moment count. Even when resistance and anger met me every step of the way. I longed to take all three of my beautiful kids to church, but Sunday mornings dawned bright and he refused to budge. Refused to eat. Refused to go unless I yelled. Which I didn't want to do, but I did.
Sometime after moving away I managed to make him take his hatred to a new level. When he called me in a panic for the one hundredth time over something I was certain was untrue, I contacted the other parent. Mostly I have no idea why I did that. I have survived a summer of barely communication with the other. I hear my Son's words and see his father from a distance. There is no united parenting team between us. It is him against me. It has always been this way. My attempts at being neutral and kind are always met with disbelief and fake words. I guess you could say in some ways, I too live in fear. Isn't that why we removed the house we desperately wanted to sell from the market?
I am praying hard, but I have yet to actually pick up my Bible and open it. I read children's Bible stories nightly, but I doubt that is enough to counter the devil on this one. I have reached out to prayer warrior and others for advice.
I want to fight, but am met with much resistance because on paper it says I am just a mother, nothing more. The ball is not in my court and nothing short of a financial miracle and a miracle will change that at this point.
December 12 2016
B. Alwildia Garcia
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
The Day After
Today is November 9, 2016, yesterday was a historic Election Day.
The candidates were Hilary Clinton and Donald Trump. The race was tight and all through the process everyone was dead set on Trump not being able to pull off a win for the presidency.
But he did.
He pulled off a feat that I am sure even he doubted could happen.
I was amazed how close the numbers were as the polls were closing. I rode the emotional roller coaster until sheer exhaustion drove me to sleep. At 3:30a.m. I woke up and checked my FB to see who won.
Donald Trump.
And then I sat there staring at the phone in my hand and ran the words over and over in my head. How had this come to pass?
I watched all the news shows during the last year, I heard them say it would be impossible. But he won in Florida, Ohio, Wisconsin, and so many more. Many of those states had not voted Republican since the 80s.
Now what?
That is what I have been hearing and seeing on social media all day long.
I have heard the disgust and disbelief and hatred. I saw a few riots on television. For me, I am slightly relieved.
There are parts of the near future that I am trying hard not to fly into panic mode about.
I am concerned about health care. What will happen now that Obama is gone and everyone, even Hilary, wants to change or do away with.
I do not feel as a woman that I am threatened. I think that my Mexican-American husband will be okay, illegal immigrants? Wow, I have no idea.
I do feel like job security should improve, but I am not confident in Trump's ability to problem solve calmly and with tact. I do not like how he is a bully on social media. Will he continue to do this? And the ending result be war with offended countries?
Racism was already here. I have been around people who have called Obama every racist name in the book. I have never felt that way. In fact I always did like Michelle Obama. I thought she was classy. If she were to run for president, I would vote for her in a heart beat.
I do not feel that the people who voted for Trump were taking women back one hundred years. Yes, he is outlandish and so rude where women are concerned. But to be brutally honest, my Dad who is close to Trump's age often has the same attitude. No it is not okay, and no I don't want my daughter to be subjected to the demeaning words and actions of men. It is my responsibility as her mother to teach her that is not okay and to fight hard for her place in the world.
Overall, I think that the people were finally heard. They wanted change, change that Obama promised, but did not fully deliver on.
Kudos to Hilary for paving the way for another woman to run for president. I admire her for that. I am sure that soon we will have a Woman as president.
This is my own opinion
The candidates were Hilary Clinton and Donald Trump. The race was tight and all through the process everyone was dead set on Trump not being able to pull off a win for the presidency.
But he did.
He pulled off a feat that I am sure even he doubted could happen.
I was amazed how close the numbers were as the polls were closing. I rode the emotional roller coaster until sheer exhaustion drove me to sleep. At 3:30a.m. I woke up and checked my FB to see who won.
Donald Trump.
And then I sat there staring at the phone in my hand and ran the words over and over in my head. How had this come to pass?
I watched all the news shows during the last year, I heard them say it would be impossible. But he won in Florida, Ohio, Wisconsin, and so many more. Many of those states had not voted Republican since the 80s.
Now what?
That is what I have been hearing and seeing on social media all day long.
I have heard the disgust and disbelief and hatred. I saw a few riots on television. For me, I am slightly relieved.
There are parts of the near future that I am trying hard not to fly into panic mode about.
I am concerned about health care. What will happen now that Obama is gone and everyone, even Hilary, wants to change or do away with.
I do not feel as a woman that I am threatened. I think that my Mexican-American husband will be okay, illegal immigrants? Wow, I have no idea.
I do feel like job security should improve, but I am not confident in Trump's ability to problem solve calmly and with tact. I do not like how he is a bully on social media. Will he continue to do this? And the ending result be war with offended countries?
Racism was already here. I have been around people who have called Obama every racist name in the book. I have never felt that way. In fact I always did like Michelle Obama. I thought she was classy. If she were to run for president, I would vote for her in a heart beat.
I do not feel that the people who voted for Trump were taking women back one hundred years. Yes, he is outlandish and so rude where women are concerned. But to be brutally honest, my Dad who is close to Trump's age often has the same attitude. No it is not okay, and no I don't want my daughter to be subjected to the demeaning words and actions of men. It is my responsibility as her mother to teach her that is not okay and to fight hard for her place in the world.
Overall, I think that the people were finally heard. They wanted change, change that Obama promised, but did not fully deliver on.
Kudos to Hilary for paving the way for another woman to run for president. I admire her for that. I am sure that soon we will have a Woman as president.
This is my own opinion
Saturday, October 22, 2016
Driving Through Cincinnati
I am really just a small town girl at heart. While living in El Paso, I had to put on my big girl panties and drive. I did my very best to avoid I-10 and other high traffic areas including bridges that terrified me. In the back of my mind I always remembered Cincinnati Ohio. For me, it was one of the scariest places that I had ever driven. I remembered in early 2000 coming through that city. We were heading North from Tennessee to Michigan. As we were crossing the bridge I noticed two trucks, one with a flat bed trailer. They were crossing the lanes and driving crazy, well what I considered crazy. As we were beginning to exit the city there was a line of cars in front of me and then those two drivers. Somehow they had collided and were in the process of crossing from the left lanes to the right lanes and off into the shoulder. I hit my brakes just as the cars in front of me were also hitting theirs. As a first time ever pregnant woman, I was so shaken that I had to stop at the next exit to let my Dad take over. My Dad who had been driving that stretch of highway for many years. Even this past summer when I headed to Michigan with my Dad and kids, I was extremely cautious in Cincinnati. I made it through going and coming to Michigan with no issues.
Imagine my surprise when I found out that when my husband and I move to New York, that we would pass through this city. I was both excited and nervous. I worked out driving directions with my Uncle and my Dad. This would be my husband's first time into Northern Kentucky, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and New York. This would be my first trip to drive this stretch of highway by myself. Having grown up with relatives in Michigan, this highway was just a permanent part of my memories. And there was one summer where I traveled with those relatives into Pennsylvania and a small part of New York. My excitement was nearly uncontainable.
We stopped just outside of Louisville. I went over the directions that I had from my Uncle and my Dad. I read them and explained them to my husband. He is very often clueless about directions. Usually we get lost wherever we go. We had made it this far without any mishaps and I was feeling good but cautious.
I was confident in my handwritten directions. I had already used the ones that my Dad provided on how to get to Cincinnati. It felt abnormal to go different ways than the GPS was telling me. We used the Gene Snyder Highway in Kentucky to bypass Louisville. This was a way that my Dad had come to accept as normal, but the GPS instructs you to take the bypasses. I knew all the while that my husband was blindly following the taillights on the small car I was driving. I picked this car to be the lead car because I trusted it. It was smaller, though full. The Van is my favorite, but it was fully loaded, I felt like it had low visibility due to the amount of stuff crammed in it. I also did not feel like it was as nimble as the car. I had the directions, and I was familiar with at least part of this drive, so I was the lead car. What I did not realize is that Cincinnati would not be the same drive as I remembered.
When we started nearing Cincinnati I reread my directions as I am driving. Then I called my husband and went over them with him. Then I gripped the steering wheel, said a quick prayer to God that we made it through.
Coming into Cincinnati from Kentucky, there was a lot of construction. At first I did not recognize the city I knew so well in childhood memories. I call my Dad. My poor Dad who is trying to spend quality time with my sister and son in Tennessee. I begin asking him where I am. What should I be seeing? Why are there signs about tunnels? I do not remember tunnels. He tries to tell me where I am and what to expect. I hang up and continue to drive. I am nearing the Ohio River and the massive bridge. I call my Dad and ask him yet again where am I? Do you remember a round building?Yes he says he remembers odd shaped buildings, I scream that I am on the bridge and hang up.
This is the back of my white car. My silly husband is behind me in the van taking pictures while I am in the midst of having a panic attack while driving across this bridge!
Then we are beyond the bridge. I check the mirror to confirm my husband made it through and that he is behind me. I feel somewhat calmer as I notice him behind me. And then the panic begins again as my GPS begins telling me to go left when my written directions tell me to go right. I call my Dad who is trying to be patient and encouraging while telling me I am now in uncharted territory and he has never gone this way. That did nothing but panic me more. So I just prayed and grabbed my bag and desperately pawed through it for an oil. My son is oblivious to my plight in the front. My dog is sleeping as I am screaming "Why the f*** is there construction??? Why did we have to get here during rush hour?"
I cannot properly translate how tightly I was gripping the steering wheel with one hand while quickly applying an oil blend with vetiver on my arms, neck, and forehead. Then I dropped it in my lap and focused because by golly, we did go through a tiny tunnel and I did say the very bad word numerous times loudly.
And then it was over. We survived. I did not cry, only screamed. I did not cause an accident and my husband did not get lost. This was a crazy experience. I had to do this correctly. I was the lead car and my husband was behind me taking pictures and enjoying the sights. I likened this turn to the right toward Columbus as similar to driving through Dallas TX. I had no memories of this side of Cincinnati.
At the next stop as I am asking my husband what he thought of Cincinnati, he says oh I took some pictures. It wasn't too bad. Men. That is all that I am saying on this matter.
October 21, 2016
Imagine my surprise when I found out that when my husband and I move to New York, that we would pass through this city. I was both excited and nervous. I worked out driving directions with my Uncle and my Dad. This would be my husband's first time into Northern Kentucky, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and New York. This would be my first trip to drive this stretch of highway by myself. Having grown up with relatives in Michigan, this highway was just a permanent part of my memories. And there was one summer where I traveled with those relatives into Pennsylvania and a small part of New York. My excitement was nearly uncontainable.
We stopped just outside of Louisville. I went over the directions that I had from my Uncle and my Dad. I read them and explained them to my husband. He is very often clueless about directions. Usually we get lost wherever we go. We had made it this far without any mishaps and I was feeling good but cautious.
I was confident in my handwritten directions. I had already used the ones that my Dad provided on how to get to Cincinnati. It felt abnormal to go different ways than the GPS was telling me. We used the Gene Snyder Highway in Kentucky to bypass Louisville. This was a way that my Dad had come to accept as normal, but the GPS instructs you to take the bypasses. I knew all the while that my husband was blindly following the taillights on the small car I was driving. I picked this car to be the lead car because I trusted it. It was smaller, though full. The Van is my favorite, but it was fully loaded, I felt like it had low visibility due to the amount of stuff crammed in it. I also did not feel like it was as nimble as the car. I had the directions, and I was familiar with at least part of this drive, so I was the lead car. What I did not realize is that Cincinnati would not be the same drive as I remembered.
When we started nearing Cincinnati I reread my directions as I am driving. Then I called my husband and went over them with him. Then I gripped the steering wheel, said a quick prayer to God that we made it through.
Coming into Cincinnati from Kentucky, there was a lot of construction. At first I did not recognize the city I knew so well in childhood memories. I call my Dad. My poor Dad who is trying to spend quality time with my sister and son in Tennessee. I begin asking him where I am. What should I be seeing? Why are there signs about tunnels? I do not remember tunnels. He tries to tell me where I am and what to expect. I hang up and continue to drive. I am nearing the Ohio River and the massive bridge. I call my Dad and ask him yet again where am I? Do you remember a round building?Yes he says he remembers odd shaped buildings, I scream that I am on the bridge and hang up.
Now I am driving across the bridge. I am driving across the bridge in a lot of traffic. I begin to panic. I feel my heart rate increase. I feel as if I cannot draw a deep enough breath. I begin praying and saying I need an oil, I need an oil. I managed to grab a chapstick out my bag just before I crossed the bridge but even squeezing it tightly was not making me feel any better despite it's tropical smell.
I am gripping the wheel tightly, I am not looking out my window at the mighty river below me. I don't even think I told my son we were crossing the river.
This is the back of my white car. My silly husband is behind me in the van taking pictures while I am in the midst of having a panic attack while driving across this bridge!
Then we are beyond the bridge. I check the mirror to confirm my husband made it through and that he is behind me. I feel somewhat calmer as I notice him behind me. And then the panic begins again as my GPS begins telling me to go left when my written directions tell me to go right. I call my Dad who is trying to be patient and encouraging while telling me I am now in uncharted territory and he has never gone this way. That did nothing but panic me more. So I just prayed and grabbed my bag and desperately pawed through it for an oil. My son is oblivious to my plight in the front. My dog is sleeping as I am screaming "Why the f*** is there construction??? Why did we have to get here during rush hour?"
I cannot properly translate how tightly I was gripping the steering wheel with one hand while quickly applying an oil blend with vetiver on my arms, neck, and forehead. Then I dropped it in my lap and focused because by golly, we did go through a tiny tunnel and I did say the very bad word numerous times loudly.
And then it was over. We survived. I did not cry, only screamed. I did not cause an accident and my husband did not get lost. This was a crazy experience. I had to do this correctly. I was the lead car and my husband was behind me taking pictures and enjoying the sights. I likened this turn to the right toward Columbus as similar to driving through Dallas TX. I had no memories of this side of Cincinnati.
At the next stop as I am asking my husband what he thought of Cincinnati, he says oh I took some pictures. It wasn't too bad. Men. That is all that I am saying on this matter.
October 21, 2016
Friday, October 21, 2016
Javier the Chihuahua Moves to New York State
When we got to the green place that smelled so nice, I met the scariest human I had ever seen!
This human was so smelly and loud! He scared me every chance he got. I tried to make myself small, but he could still see me. He even licked my nose! In this new place that is much colder and wet, I have not seen him. Maybe he did not come, he was not in either of the cars that I rode in.
One day I noticed that the big female human began putting things in boxes. That makes me nervous. I do not like boxes. I worry that they will leave me behind. My human Mom assures me this will not be the case. Then one day strangers showed up with even more boxes. They were loud and everything was disappearing before my eyes. I decided that if I crawled under a blanket, everything might return to normal.
Nothing returned to normal, instead it got worse!
The next thing I knew they were putting stuff into the big car and little car. I was running behind them and trying to make sure they did not forget me. As I watched more and more stuff disappear into the cars, I realized that they might leave me. There just did not appear to be enough room for me. Oh, I was so scared!
Then my human Mom scooped me up and put me in the big car. I had just enough room.
I ended up in the small car with the little human boy and my human mom. At one point I was so cold! Then my human mom covered me up with my warm blanket. That made me feel better. When she first put my blankets in the car with out me, I was really scared! When I went inside the house, I didn't want move from the blanket pile they left for me in the floor. Even when they wanted to cuddle with me, I was still scared.
As we went along, we stopped at a lot of places where the smells were amazing. I got to walk around and make pee everywhere. My heart felt full, but I was nervous that I might get lost from my humans.
The next day the big human man put me in the big car with him. I was so scared without my human mom. I really wanted to jump out the window to be with her. This was not my favorite part of the ride. The big human man made me ride with the scary little human girl. She squeezes me too hard. She is okay when she is sleeping and sharing her blanket, but I do not like it when she is awake and being loud.
This is the worst place to ride!
It was nice when the big human boy would scratch my belly and the warm sunlight was shining on me.
I also enjoyed sitting on this giant pile of soft stuff and looking out the window.
I even sat up here!
I am now in my new home. I am not so sure of this place. The house is big and drafty. Outside it is always wet. The grass is really big. I found a place in the fence that I think I can make an escape from. I have gotten past the humans a few times and run down the street as fast as I can. I do not have many soft places to lay down. The humans have not been around much to cuddle with me. I hope that they still love me.
Written by my human mom as I dictated to her October 21, 2016
Thursday, October 20, 2016
Meeting the New School
As the mom of a special needs child I have a speech in my head for each time a new educator meets my child. It is forthcoming and leaves little room for disagreement on the other parties side. I don't mean to immediately come off as abrupt and unbending, but that is how I come off.
If you have ever dealt with an IEP plan, you know what I mean. You get me. I have to be my child's advocate. I have to fight for him.
My story actually begins much earlier. My oldest was a hyper child. He really struggled. I was a new mom, a young mom, a single mom. I had absolutely no idea how to make life better for him. How to help him or even reach him. I put him into school at age five. I was full of misgivings and knew this was probably going to be a mistake. My options were slim. It was a horrible experience for us both. Until he was unenrolled in the middle of fifth grade, I fought with the school almost daily. He had an IEP for his reading and spelling and for the simple fact he had ADHD. We pushed aside labels and shrugged off the angry and disbelieving glances. Temper tantrums galore and lack of appetite. Medicines that we couldn't afford. Phone calls every day over everything from lunch he brought to hats he wore and did he have his medicine. Needless to say by the time he went to live with his Dad I was war weary.
My youngest was born three weeks early a high birth weight. We started out on shaky ground and moved toward progress. As time went on we realized that he couldn't walk properly. The help we needed was just out of grasp. A good pediatrician who refused to give up on us and we finally got the help we needed. At nearly two years he could walk with supports in his shoes and then we began working on speech. He needed occupational therapy and speech. Again just out of reach due to the lack of affordable insurance. Thus the reason we became a Military family. Had this not happened, my son would not be where he is today. (Insurance is another story for another day)
I began fighting for this child before he was two. It is all that I know to do. I know that he is seven. I know that he has fought through so much and that he is going to be okay. But the downside to being a Military family is the number of times that you must move.
This sweet little boy began Pre-K just months before we would move home from El Paso. The husband would be deploying. Then once we arrived home, he had to be set up at another school and begin again. He finished his first year of Pre-K there. His second year of Pre-K was begun in Tennessee before we moved back to El Paso.
It took some time and a lucky IEP meeting with the right people in attendance to get things going smoothly. So he started in EP in one school, after two months he was moved to a school that could accommodate his mild hearing loss. He was fortunate enough to stay at that school with the same group of educators until the beginning of his first grade year. And you guessed it, we moved again.
This time my husband was heading to Korea and us to Tennessee. I began calling the Board of Education in my County in April. I made them communicate with me. I gave them a reprieve during the summer, but August 1st I was back on them. I needed to know for a fact that going from this school for the hearing impaired to an all inclusive classroom was going to be the best move for him. It wasn't like I had much choice, we were going either way. My name was known before I ever stepped into the school that September.
They turned out being so sweet and loving and kind. It ended up being one of the most positive moves yet. He was embraced and encouraged to grow. His personality began to blossom. He was becoming more conversational. It was becoming easier for him to be understood and to express himself. I knew our time at this school would be short. I knew that we would move shortly after he began second grade. It was a heart wrenching thought, but it was what we must do next.
I tried once to call the school I was fairly certain he would attend should we move to New York. I was frustrated when I was transferred to four different administrators and none could answer my questions. I arrived ready to do battle.
I had everything in hand that I would need. I marched into the school Registrars office and I laid it all out. Upon finding out that my son would need an IEP to ride the special needs bus, I nearly flipped a lid. In both EP and Tennessee it was just standard, he had hearing loss and rode the special needs bus. Now I must wait for an IEP meeting here and hope that they will see he needs at least an Aide on the bus if nothing else. I was relieved to find out that his bus would only carry the smaller kids from Kindergarten to Third grade. I agreed to give it a try. I am praying that tomorrow goes smoothly and that he will be the strong little boy I know he can be.
Why am I concerned? This is my easily overwhelmed little boy. The same little boy that is currently awaiting an evaluation to see if he has Sensory Processing Disorder. Something in my heart of hearts I am sure is to be the case.
I arrived at his elementary school once again ready for battle. My husband told me to take it easy on them. To listen with an open mind and know that some change is good for kids. Even kids like our little boy. He assured me once we left that I was rude in the beginning. That I talked to loudly and that I was expecting them to be the same as past schools. This of course is not something that can happen. I tried to be nice. I tried so hard. I mentioned my issues with the bus no less than fifty times. I repeated over and over that he wears hearing aides. That he is easily overwhelmed. In the end I think they realized that I was not one to be reckoned with. That I was agreeing to try, but should one thing not go according to the way I envision it should, then I will be on the phone or in the office.
They are correct.
He will ride this bus. He will be in a regular classroom with hopefully the modifier microphone system. We met his class, none had hearing aides or glasses.
This regular classroom deal isn't high on my list of positive outcomes. I didn't even get to meet the teacher today. Probably a good thing as she may have lived in fear of my return. Should we have issues in this classroom, he could possible be moved to a different setting more closely aligned with an all inclusive classroom.
My husband assured me that this is all going to work out. That I should let our son walk on his own. Push him a little closer to the edge of the nest. He reminds me that I won't always be around and I need to ensure he is okay when I am not around.
I'm praying for this situation. I am praying for my little guy.
October 20, 2016
If you have ever dealt with an IEP plan, you know what I mean. You get me. I have to be my child's advocate. I have to fight for him.
My story actually begins much earlier. My oldest was a hyper child. He really struggled. I was a new mom, a young mom, a single mom. I had absolutely no idea how to make life better for him. How to help him or even reach him. I put him into school at age five. I was full of misgivings and knew this was probably going to be a mistake. My options were slim. It was a horrible experience for us both. Until he was unenrolled in the middle of fifth grade, I fought with the school almost daily. He had an IEP for his reading and spelling and for the simple fact he had ADHD. We pushed aside labels and shrugged off the angry and disbelieving glances. Temper tantrums galore and lack of appetite. Medicines that we couldn't afford. Phone calls every day over everything from lunch he brought to hats he wore and did he have his medicine. Needless to say by the time he went to live with his Dad I was war weary.
My youngest was born three weeks early a high birth weight. We started out on shaky ground and moved toward progress. As time went on we realized that he couldn't walk properly. The help we needed was just out of grasp. A good pediatrician who refused to give up on us and we finally got the help we needed. At nearly two years he could walk with supports in his shoes and then we began working on speech. He needed occupational therapy and speech. Again just out of reach due to the lack of affordable insurance. Thus the reason we became a Military family. Had this not happened, my son would not be where he is today. (Insurance is another story for another day)
I began fighting for this child before he was two. It is all that I know to do. I know that he is seven. I know that he has fought through so much and that he is going to be okay. But the downside to being a Military family is the number of times that you must move.
This sweet little boy began Pre-K just months before we would move home from El Paso. The husband would be deploying. Then once we arrived home, he had to be set up at another school and begin again. He finished his first year of Pre-K there. His second year of Pre-K was begun in Tennessee before we moved back to El Paso.
It took some time and a lucky IEP meeting with the right people in attendance to get things going smoothly. So he started in EP in one school, after two months he was moved to a school that could accommodate his mild hearing loss. He was fortunate enough to stay at that school with the same group of educators until the beginning of his first grade year. And you guessed it, we moved again.
This time my husband was heading to Korea and us to Tennessee. I began calling the Board of Education in my County in April. I made them communicate with me. I gave them a reprieve during the summer, but August 1st I was back on them. I needed to know for a fact that going from this school for the hearing impaired to an all inclusive classroom was going to be the best move for him. It wasn't like I had much choice, we were going either way. My name was known before I ever stepped into the school that September.
They turned out being so sweet and loving and kind. It ended up being one of the most positive moves yet. He was embraced and encouraged to grow. His personality began to blossom. He was becoming more conversational. It was becoming easier for him to be understood and to express himself. I knew our time at this school would be short. I knew that we would move shortly after he began second grade. It was a heart wrenching thought, but it was what we must do next.
I tried once to call the school I was fairly certain he would attend should we move to New York. I was frustrated when I was transferred to four different administrators and none could answer my questions. I arrived ready to do battle.
I had everything in hand that I would need. I marched into the school Registrars office and I laid it all out. Upon finding out that my son would need an IEP to ride the special needs bus, I nearly flipped a lid. In both EP and Tennessee it was just standard, he had hearing loss and rode the special needs bus. Now I must wait for an IEP meeting here and hope that they will see he needs at least an Aide on the bus if nothing else. I was relieved to find out that his bus would only carry the smaller kids from Kindergarten to Third grade. I agreed to give it a try. I am praying that tomorrow goes smoothly and that he will be the strong little boy I know he can be.
Why am I concerned? This is my easily overwhelmed little boy. The same little boy that is currently awaiting an evaluation to see if he has Sensory Processing Disorder. Something in my heart of hearts I am sure is to be the case.
I arrived at his elementary school once again ready for battle. My husband told me to take it easy on them. To listen with an open mind and know that some change is good for kids. Even kids like our little boy. He assured me once we left that I was rude in the beginning. That I talked to loudly and that I was expecting them to be the same as past schools. This of course is not something that can happen. I tried to be nice. I tried so hard. I mentioned my issues with the bus no less than fifty times. I repeated over and over that he wears hearing aides. That he is easily overwhelmed. In the end I think they realized that I was not one to be reckoned with. That I was agreeing to try, but should one thing not go according to the way I envision it should, then I will be on the phone or in the office.
They are correct.
He will ride this bus. He will be in a regular classroom with hopefully the modifier microphone system. We met his class, none had hearing aides or glasses.
This regular classroom deal isn't high on my list of positive outcomes. I didn't even get to meet the teacher today. Probably a good thing as she may have lived in fear of my return. Should we have issues in this classroom, he could possible be moved to a different setting more closely aligned with an all inclusive classroom.
My husband assured me that this is all going to work out. That I should let our son walk on his own. Push him a little closer to the edge of the nest. He reminds me that I won't always be around and I need to ensure he is okay when I am not around.
I'm praying for this situation. I am praying for my little guy.
October 20, 2016
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
When the Movers Came: October 2016
On a sunny but cool day in Tennessee we woke up and ate a quick breakfast. We sat in anticipation and silence as we waited for the movers to arrive. This would be the beginning of the ball of change rolling in a forward motion. Once those movers arrived there would be no going back. Who we saw during the next two days would be the last of our friends we would see until we can come back. We stared at the house. At the mess waiting to be loaded into our vehicles. We hugged. We prayed and we let God take control.
This little truck and a slightly bigger one were the bringers of change. We let the packers in and watched as our life in Tennessee was packed away. We watched the next day as everything was loaded into another truck.
This was the bulk of my kitchen. I stood before these boxes, ran my hand across them and I sighed. The past and the future is now in these boxes. I appreciated the neatly written labels. I loved the one that said it included bake ware. I felt that the packer understood the importance of my cookie sheets and muffin pans, this was the ones that I dared leave behind. I had two of each already in the trunk of my car.
I looked on in awe at all the boxes in my daughters room. How on earth could all her toys be in one place? Well, all the toys that were not stuffed in a bag waiting to be loaded into the van.
Just a small view of my son's room. Everything was in a box, except for the contents of that closet. Behind that door was my oldest son's clothes. A Radio. A comic book. Unfortunately he was the one person in our family who would not be making this journey. I hated to leave him behind. To know that the situation he is in isn't the best, but I could not find a way to change the situation. I'm leaving this part up to God. I'm trusting in my Dad and my sister to keep the local lines of communication open while I do my best from a distance.
Day two they came to load up all of our stuff.
Now we wait on it to be delivered to us at our new house.
The night before we leave, we have a sleepover in the living room, even our little Chihuahua sleeps on the blankets. My Dad had several couch cushions that he loaned to us for a bed. I let the husband and the kids have them and slept on the piled blankets instead. I was also the first one up at 5:45a. Our second day leaving from Columbus Ohio, I was also the first one to rise.
Even though I woke up so early on our first day, we actually did not roll out of town until 9:30a. We had breakfast with my Dad and then a small snafu with the bank. All ended up being good and we made it to our destination the next night.
We left this space empty. Ready for my Dad to fill with his stuff. I know the emptiness will echo with the laughter of the two youngest and the shouts between my oldest and I. This house has been with us since 2005 and as it is now, it shall continue to be ours for quite some time.
This little car came to us in 2008. It was mine before I met and married my husband. It has been everywhere, including El Paso Texas. This van, purchased in El Paso, is only beginning the journey with us. They drove well and we are thankful for that.
October 19, 2016
This little truck and a slightly bigger one were the bringers of change. We let the packers in and watched as our life in Tennessee was packed away. We watched the next day as everything was loaded into another truck.
This was the bulk of my kitchen. I stood before these boxes, ran my hand across them and I sighed. The past and the future is now in these boxes. I appreciated the neatly written labels. I loved the one that said it included bake ware. I felt that the packer understood the importance of my cookie sheets and muffin pans, this was the ones that I dared leave behind. I had two of each already in the trunk of my car.
I looked on in awe at all the boxes in my daughters room. How on earth could all her toys be in one place? Well, all the toys that were not stuffed in a bag waiting to be loaded into the van.
After day one we had a TV and our queen sized bed. This is the view of all the boxes stacked by our bed. I looked at it in wonder. And the thought prevalent in my mind, was if our bed frame will fit into our new bedroom with space to walk around it and not knock your knees on it.
Just a small view of my son's room. Everything was in a box, except for the contents of that closet. Behind that door was my oldest son's clothes. A Radio. A comic book. Unfortunately he was the one person in our family who would not be making this journey. I hated to leave him behind. To know that the situation he is in isn't the best, but I could not find a way to change the situation. I'm leaving this part up to God. I'm trusting in my Dad and my sister to keep the local lines of communication open while I do my best from a distance.
Day two they came to load up all of our stuff.
Now we wait on it to be delivered to us at our new house.
The night before we leave, we have a sleepover in the living room, even our little Chihuahua sleeps on the blankets. My Dad had several couch cushions that he loaned to us for a bed. I let the husband and the kids have them and slept on the piled blankets instead. I was also the first one up at 5:45a. Our second day leaving from Columbus Ohio, I was also the first one to rise.
Even though I woke up so early on our first day, we actually did not roll out of town until 9:30a. We had breakfast with my Dad and then a small snafu with the bank. All ended up being good and we made it to our destination the next night.
We left this space empty. Ready for my Dad to fill with his stuff. I know the emptiness will echo with the laughter of the two youngest and the shouts between my oldest and I. This house has been with us since 2005 and as it is now, it shall continue to be ours for quite some time.
This little car came to us in 2008. It was mine before I met and married my husband. It has been everywhere, including El Paso Texas. This van, purchased in El Paso, is only beginning the journey with us. They drove well and we are thankful for that.
October 19, 2016
Moving Again: October 2016
This Tennessee girl is migrating north instead of South!
I'm ready for this adventure, for whatever Mother Nature sends my way. It's family time again, a new house and a new zip code.
My husband told me to only pack the essentials for our drive up. The movers would take all the rest. But for me, it is extremely hard to decide what is essential and what is not. I need all the quilts that were hand made for us and the really big bulky basket they are in. I need all the glass I inherited from my Grandmother. Pretty much everything in my kitchen is a necessity. All bath soaps, kitchen soaps and cleaners. Books for me and the kids. All the stuffed animals that normally reside on the kids beds, don't forget every blanket and pillow on every bed in in the house. It was chaos.
I should never be put in charge of packing, I am damn good at it though!
This is what I started with in the kitchen.
We ended up with nine house plants between our tiny car and our minivan. I refused to leave them behind. One of the plants had previously moved with us from El Paso. I promised my husband that these plants would offer us a spot of green in the heart of winter, fresh oxygen emitted into the air nightly. He humored me. I am thankful.
Because the movers were coming, we had to get the stuff we wanted to take out of the way. I ended up closing off our second bathroom due to all the blankets, towels, and coats that I wanted to take.
Pretty much all of this made the cut and was stuffed or jammed into any open space my husband could find in the car and the van. We put one kid in each vehicle, which gave me more space to take things I thought I needed. I should add this included a few yard decorations, shower curtain rods and curtain rods. I was beyond prepared!
By the time the movers arrived, I had everything in the two bathrooms, some stuff in the van and the car, and this desk overflowing with stuff. The movers were gracious enough to ignore my mess even when they needed to use our only open bathroom that you could barely get to the toilet in.
This is the front passenger side of the car, it ended up also including a pillow, an angry bird toy, and my purse. there was barely a spot for our tiny Chihuahua. The plants in the front seat ended up in the back seat. My son even had a snake plant sitting next to him in the backseat.
This is the trunk of the car just before we rolled out. I was able to cram a little more into it and then added a comforter on the top layer. This car has the spare tire and the battery in the trunk, so we were blessed to have no issues as we traveled north.
For humor's sake I let the Angry Bird look out the window during the entire two day drive. It was rather amusing looking at the faces of people who glanced into our car.
This is the back passenger seat of the car, it ended up being a lot more full than this.
My husband packed and repacked this van several times. This is close to how it looked the day we rolled at. Just add about fifty more blankets, a stray plate, two skillets and a cooking pot. Oh and don't forget my computer bag and a coat and two shirts on hangers.
This was just before we added the last of the stuff. This view is the passenger left side of the van. The seat was folded down into the cargo space. I had the booster seat buried in the way back of the trunk in the car.
My husband went through different stages of disbelief, frustration, and humor during this trip. I was so excited for him to see parts of the country he never saw. We went through areas that were cold and areas that were warm. We drove through crazy traffic and construction zones. Down a huge toll road and glimpsed Lake Erie off in the distance. We ate a lot of fast food. Slept in an old hotel that was pet friendly in Ohio. It was two stories and no elevator! Along the way we kept up our spirits by joking and listening to our radios. Hugging the kids, running in the grassy areas at the rest stops. I drove our little car the entire way. I was afraid of the fully loaded van. The car is my go to in unfamiliar territory. I might also add we rode with windows cracked the entire way. We arrived in the dead of night, nah, really it was like 9:30pm. But it was so dark! We are in a beautiful area and it is rural.
I am blessed!
God brought us through to this.
October 19, 2016
Sunday, October 9, 2016
Time Never Slows Down
It's been just over a year since we came back to sunny Tennessee. I came with a heavy heart and expecting the worst experience.
I was wrong.
This last year was a growing experience. A time to accept where I am and where various friends and family members are. To embrace our individual trials and schedules and quirks. To open the heart and the mind to truly listen to what all is being said by everyone around you.
A true blessing for my kids and I.
There are many that I didn't get to see as often as I would have liked. But I am comfortable knowing that they are there. Through phone calls and text messages our relationships evolved. To comfortable in the fact that yes face to face is optimal, but sometimes a simple text is just the right amount of interaction. It is not because we want to be alone, but that we accept where we are as individuals and our situations and embrace each other just as we are. To reach this point, you must be truly grown. You must be confident in the relationship you share. Time won't slow down for any of us, so we must seize each and every moment.
I watched my kids become closer to their cousins. To begin requesting that Auntie come for the night. To go Pokémon hunting, or the park. I loved seeing my youngest niece every morning at the school. My sister and I were finally able to reach a level of communication and it was truly amazing. I accepted her and she accepted me. This has been years in the making. The first few months were uneasy, but we pushed through for the kids and for each other.
I'm always a Daddy's girl, nothing new here. I took a road trip with my Dad to visit my Michigan family. It was an amazing experience. Great memories made with all my Aunts and even my Mom. My Dad was there for me through it all. Even when not feeling his best, he was giving it all he had, for me. How can I ever say that I am not blessed.
We grew in a new church. A church I would love to join, but that is not in God's plan at this exact moment in our lives. I watched the people embrace the kids and I. My children eager to walk through those doors each and every day. The word of the Lord a tight embrace in times of need.
I missed my husband so very much. It has been nearly six years since he has lived in our tiny house in this smaller town. Yet in my heart he is here. Through the lens of a camera he saw our daily lives. HIs voice echoing against the walls as he talked to us. This is not the best way to live, but hurray for technology!
I have made new friends, grown closer to old friends.
I am confident in the next step. Our next adventure. I know that my friends here will always be my friends. I have so many friends from all over the United States. How could I ever ask for a better blessing than that? I have an amazing husband by my side. One who supports me and I support him.
My fitness journey began here. One that I plan on continuing. Many new friends were made at the YMCA. So truly blessed to have gone there and learned my inner strength and gained the confidence to continue to grow. I am now more confident with my body image. I have learned that I can change it. I have learned that it is truly beautiful.
This one year in Tennessee was truly a blessing. I thank everyone.
Sunday October 9, 2016
Dedicated to all of my Tennessee friends and family, May we all continue to grow closer
I was wrong.
This last year was a growing experience. A time to accept where I am and where various friends and family members are. To embrace our individual trials and schedules and quirks. To open the heart and the mind to truly listen to what all is being said by everyone around you.
A true blessing for my kids and I.
There are many that I didn't get to see as often as I would have liked. But I am comfortable knowing that they are there. Through phone calls and text messages our relationships evolved. To comfortable in the fact that yes face to face is optimal, but sometimes a simple text is just the right amount of interaction. It is not because we want to be alone, but that we accept where we are as individuals and our situations and embrace each other just as we are. To reach this point, you must be truly grown. You must be confident in the relationship you share. Time won't slow down for any of us, so we must seize each and every moment.
I watched my kids become closer to their cousins. To begin requesting that Auntie come for the night. To go Pokémon hunting, or the park. I loved seeing my youngest niece every morning at the school. My sister and I were finally able to reach a level of communication and it was truly amazing. I accepted her and she accepted me. This has been years in the making. The first few months were uneasy, but we pushed through for the kids and for each other.
I'm always a Daddy's girl, nothing new here. I took a road trip with my Dad to visit my Michigan family. It was an amazing experience. Great memories made with all my Aunts and even my Mom. My Dad was there for me through it all. Even when not feeling his best, he was giving it all he had, for me. How can I ever say that I am not blessed.
We grew in a new church. A church I would love to join, but that is not in God's plan at this exact moment in our lives. I watched the people embrace the kids and I. My children eager to walk through those doors each and every day. The word of the Lord a tight embrace in times of need.
I missed my husband so very much. It has been nearly six years since he has lived in our tiny house in this smaller town. Yet in my heart he is here. Through the lens of a camera he saw our daily lives. HIs voice echoing against the walls as he talked to us. This is not the best way to live, but hurray for technology!
I have made new friends, grown closer to old friends.
I am confident in the next step. Our next adventure. I know that my friends here will always be my friends. I have so many friends from all over the United States. How could I ever ask for a better blessing than that? I have an amazing husband by my side. One who supports me and I support him.
My fitness journey began here. One that I plan on continuing. Many new friends were made at the YMCA. So truly blessed to have gone there and learned my inner strength and gained the confidence to continue to grow. I am now more confident with my body image. I have learned that I can change it. I have learned that it is truly beautiful.
This one year in Tennessee was truly a blessing. I thank everyone.
Sunday October 9, 2016
Dedicated to all of my Tennessee friends and family, May we all continue to grow closer
Sunday, October 2, 2016
The Cycle Continues
As the days wind down for this adventure to end and another to begin, I realize that I am leaving a mess behind me. My heart is broken every time I hear my teenage son lash out at me in anger. Every time I see him forcefully smack his smaller brother and sister with a pillow. Name calling from stupid to idiot to racial slurs pour out of his mouth almost constantly. We yell at each other a lot. Over and over.
He says that I am an overbearing mom who has no good food to eat in the house who abandoned him and doesn't love him and thinks he is her slave.
I think he is a confused and hurt teenager. Misguided and being influenced by people who are selfish.
My heart breaks, it is broken. I know I have lost my son forever. In my heart I know that he doesn't love me. He resents the smaller kids.
All of this is my fault. I did leave him. I did drive away.
I try.
At least I think I try.
Favorite foods, clean clothes, attempts at fun activities at which I am reminded that he is no longer two.
When around others he is good as gold. The second it is us he is on the attack. The younger kids cry a lot when he is around. I feel like dying a lot when he is around.
I feel like I should die for ruining his life, causing him to hate me and the younger two. I do not know how to correct the wrong.
He won't let me near him, there are no hugs only empty words.
I know he was once my bubbly little boy but now he is an angry ball of emotion.
For many years I hated my own mom. I feel like this is karma for the way I felt for my mom. But I don't think the younger two should feel so much hate flowing from his heart and anguish from mine. They are caught between us.
My Dad says I should not let my oldest visit. He is right. I shouldn't. But I don't want to not visit him. I keep brining him over hoping and praying that this time will be different and it never is.
My heart is shattered. His heart is as well
Can we move past this? Will it always be this way between us?
Lord help us all.
I want my boy to love me again.
He says that I am an overbearing mom who has no good food to eat in the house who abandoned him and doesn't love him and thinks he is her slave.
I think he is a confused and hurt teenager. Misguided and being influenced by people who are selfish.
My heart breaks, it is broken. I know I have lost my son forever. In my heart I know that he doesn't love me. He resents the smaller kids.
All of this is my fault. I did leave him. I did drive away.
I try.
At least I think I try.
Favorite foods, clean clothes, attempts at fun activities at which I am reminded that he is no longer two.
When around others he is good as gold. The second it is us he is on the attack. The younger kids cry a lot when he is around. I feel like dying a lot when he is around.
I feel like I should die for ruining his life, causing him to hate me and the younger two. I do not know how to correct the wrong.
He won't let me near him, there are no hugs only empty words.
I know he was once my bubbly little boy but now he is an angry ball of emotion.
For many years I hated my own mom. I feel like this is karma for the way I felt for my mom. But I don't think the younger two should feel so much hate flowing from his heart and anguish from mine. They are caught between us.
My Dad says I should not let my oldest visit. He is right. I shouldn't. But I don't want to not visit him. I keep brining him over hoping and praying that this time will be different and it never is.
My heart is shattered. His heart is as well
Can we move past this? Will it always be this way between us?
Lord help us all.
I want my boy to love me again.
Sunday, September 18, 2016
Thoughts, Dreams, and a Whirlwind
There are moments like these
times when forever is at the door
When just to catch a glimpse
of the stars above
twinkling down upon us
Father time seems to disappear
leaving everything at a standstill
The ticking of the clock
the same as footsteps
Climbing and climbing
reaching a point high above the shore
To look down
to see the crashing waves
and to know all is well
To know that you can fly
as you lean forward
with wings spread out
The ocean sprays you gently
as you dip close
yet not so close that death could grab you
Back up into the purple sky
past the fluffy clouds
If only the moon wasn't so far away
way beyond the tree line
and out there with the stars
Milky white
hanging up there with eternity
True life isn't down here
nor up there
But through the mirror
where true souls are reflected
Lies can't be spoken
for once reversed they become true
The road isn't paved
only gravel that crunches beneath the hooves
Yes, a horse
a beautiful white horse
Riding side saddle
confined by proper clothes
hair securely braided winding around the head to form a bun
Recklessness comes to play
becoming a dare to straddle the horse
galloping away at full speed
Behind her is the castle
her prince patiently waiting
Out here there is danger
danger that teases at freedom
The highway man comes into view
And what the town would say he stole
she gave away freely
Beneath the heavy branches of an old tree
while the horse drinks from a stream
The sky is reflected
the moon
a ball of white lying beneath the surface
of shallow water that holds deeper dreams
Hopes float past
flowing down the stream
moving around the rocks
rippling and gurgling
becoming a roar as the edge appears
A tumble down the rocks
a deeper pool
Swimming away
becoming a butterfly
fluttering around
this flower or that flower
The ocean is gone
freeing you
giving you wings and beauty
This is forever
near an ocean
down a path
in stream
Find your forever
let the rhythm move you
theft does not always leave you penniless
From the ashes
the shattered glass
the damage
From all of this strength is born
seeking an ending
maybe a beginning
Hang on the rapids aren't for eternity
Dance with me
hang upon my every word
twirl me all around
Put me high up on a pedestal
take my offered hand
Follow me up the ladder
across the skies
Become one with me
let the whirlwind carry you away
Become a funnel of dust
obscure when single
noticeable when in groups
dust
yes
dust
Olivia J Stuart 1998
times when forever is at the door
When just to catch a glimpse
of the stars above
twinkling down upon us
Father time seems to disappear
leaving everything at a standstill
The ticking of the clock
the same as footsteps
Climbing and climbing
reaching a point high above the shore
To look down
to see the crashing waves
and to know all is well
To know that you can fly
as you lean forward
with wings spread out
The ocean sprays you gently
as you dip close
yet not so close that death could grab you
Back up into the purple sky
past the fluffy clouds
If only the moon wasn't so far away
way beyond the tree line
and out there with the stars
Milky white
hanging up there with eternity
True life isn't down here
nor up there
But through the mirror
where true souls are reflected
Lies can't be spoken
for once reversed they become true
The road isn't paved
only gravel that crunches beneath the hooves
Yes, a horse
a beautiful white horse
Riding side saddle
confined by proper clothes
hair securely braided winding around the head to form a bun
Recklessness comes to play
becoming a dare to straddle the horse
galloping away at full speed
Behind her is the castle
her prince patiently waiting
Out here there is danger
danger that teases at freedom
The highway man comes into view
And what the town would say he stole
she gave away freely
Beneath the heavy branches of an old tree
while the horse drinks from a stream
The sky is reflected
the moon
a ball of white lying beneath the surface
of shallow water that holds deeper dreams
Hopes float past
flowing down the stream
moving around the rocks
rippling and gurgling
becoming a roar as the edge appears
A tumble down the rocks
a deeper pool
Swimming away
becoming a butterfly
fluttering around
this flower or that flower
The ocean is gone
freeing you
giving you wings and beauty
This is forever
near an ocean
down a path
in stream
Find your forever
let the rhythm move you
theft does not always leave you penniless
From the ashes
the shattered glass
the damage
From all of this strength is born
seeking an ending
maybe a beginning
Hang on the rapids aren't for eternity
Dance with me
hang upon my every word
twirl me all around
Put me high up on a pedestal
take my offered hand
Follow me up the ladder
across the skies
Become one with me
let the whirlwind carry you away
Become a funnel of dust
obscure when single
noticeable when in groups
dust
yes
dust
Olivia J Stuart 1998
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