a little music

The sweetest things

2010-10-16T14:01:00.000-07:00

Lillian and Dan Smith lived in a small town in California where I lived when I was growing up. I remember Lillian as a loving a vivacious woman who was sweet and good and much like my mom. She and my mom were good friends. My mom forwarded this email to me today, from Dan - an update on Lillian's health. I wanted to share it with you (if there's anyone out there. LOL). It is what life is made of, and what life is all about.

Subject: Prognosis
Date: Wed, 13 Oct 2010 19:16:21 -0600

Lillian spent last Tuesday through Saturday in the hospital because of diabetic issues. Saturday night she was placed in Rehab. to give me a chance to rest. Monday morning early, I found her in a diabetic coma at the rehab. and she was transported again to the hospital.
The Dr. recommended she come home today and hospice enter the picture. Her outlook is six days, six months, or six years. They don't know, other than her Kidneys are failing. Monday all of us including the Dr. didn't think she would last the day. However she has
a way of fooling us. They recommended we take her off all medicine, including insulin. I asked if we took her off insulin how long would
she live, "if" she went back into a coma. The answer was about seven days. I said remove her from all her other pills, but I will keep
giving her insulin. I just can't put her through what I seen Monday.
Today I gave her a shower when we arrived home and she was almost impossible to shower. I will be glad to let hospice assist from
this point on.
Her memory is good at times and other times she doesn't even know her little dog. She had no idea how may kids she had and what
their names were. However this evening she is a little better. A lot more alert and talkative.
Hospice said they are not necessary end of life assistance. I feel a little better about that. They come out tomorrow to evaluate and
try once more to talk me into a Hospital bed for her. I want her in bed where I wake her up about four times and talk to her
or test her blood, if I don't like they way she sounds. I can tell most of the time when she is having blood sugar troubles.
If she were in a hospital bed it would be in the living room and I know I would sleep on the couch.
I don't want you too assume all is doom and gloom with us. We do fine and I really don't mind assisting her and trying to
get her to talk. Underneath her problems is still the girl I married...............Dan

Better than worse

2010-10-05T13:35:00.000-07:00

An update from Mary states that her oncologist/gynocologist says he is pretty sure the business with her ovary is a cyst, not a tumor. Also her blood counts are good, so they're continuing with her chemo as scheduled. I'm not sure about her lymph nodes. Waiting on that answer . . .

She's very positive and upbeat. Good for her.

More . . .

2010-09-29T17:28:00.000-07:00

My mom just let me know that Mary's cancer seems to have spread. She doesn't know any more. I'm trying to find out more. They started to do chemo, and it looked like the tumors were shrinking. It looked good, but then they did a full body scan, and they found more in her lymph nodes and an ovary. I really would like to know what's going on.

Prayers for Mary

2010-08-24T12:40:00.000-07:00

So, yesterday I got a call from my oldest sister, Mary. On Friday she received news of a biopsy she had been waiting on. She has been diagnosed with breast cancer.

It was funny for her to call me. Even she noted the awkwardness and strangeness of the moment. As I mentioned before, we are not close. Other than our parents we have nothing in common. She is led by her logic and I by my emotions. She felt compelled to call all of her sisters to tell them of her diagnosis, to let them know of this increased familial risk of cancer.

It was an interesting experience for me. Why? Not in the way you might expect. You see - I've lived a lifetime of pain and illness. This has been my life. I've scarcely known a day of good health. No one in my family has ever understood the way I have suffered and endured and the way I have learned to view life and its unexpected ups and downs. I told my sister as much. It was an interesting experience for me because I was sad about the prospect of her having to suffer in the way I suffer every single day. Somehow I guess I thought I had managed to shoulder all of the pain and illness of the entire family. I know that sounds stupid. Yeah, of course it does. And why would I think such a stupid thing, especially for a sister I've never been close to?

Really funny - at the end of the conversation I told Mary I loved her. Her response was something like "Well, thanks for that." Don't you think that's odd? See, that's my family for you. Dandy, eh?

But she didn't call for my support. I'm not really sure why she called. She just needed to. I respect that she had that need, and I told her that I would be here for her, if she needed me. At times when I have been ill throughout my life, Mary has called to check in on me. She has been one of the only ones. Despite the fact that we don't understand one another she has kept track of me. She is a good woman in her way, and I respect her. We may not share a sisterly love, but we share something, and she did call. That's something, right?

I don't know. It isn't about me. This is all about her. It does bring up my unsettled feelings for her, feelings I just keep trying to push aside, because they will never be returned to my satisfaction. The truth is that I can't make people love me the way I love them. My own yearning leaves me feeling empty, and that is my own failing, I suppose. I can receive from others no more and no less than they are capable of giving.

So, for Mary, I offer my love and my prayers. I offer my understanding heart because I know the pain that comes from years of physical torment and the fears that accompany them. I have walked through their baptizing fire, and I can walk some distance with you, if you have need of me. I can be your friend, if you are seeking one. If you want me, I am here.

Sisters . . . or observations from a bathroom stall

2010-08-08T15:43:00.000-07:00

I have 5 sisters. I always thought that really meant something. LOL

Awhile ago, Darrin and I went to the Monte L. Bean Life Science Museum at BYU with our son. We spent some time walking around, looking at the exhibits, having some fun. As usually happens with me, my bladder began to call to me. Off I traipsed to the bathroom. As I sat down in one of the 3 ancient stalls, I had an epiphany.

Almost all of my sisters and I have gone to BYU. The one that hasn't lived right by there for years. All of us have been to that museum. All of us have taken our kids there. Even my mom has been there. It struck me, as I sat there on that toilet, looking at the walls of the stall that had undoubtedly been there since the Eisenhower administration, that each and every one of my sisters and my mom had probably sat upon the very throne upon which I sat! What an intriguing and ironic thought!

You see, at that point in time, it struck me as ironic because I felt certain that my buttocks were firmly planted where theirs had surely been planted before, and yet, I would likely never see any of them again. I began to cry. Yes, right there in the bathroom stall of the Monte L. Bean Life Science Museum on the BYU campus, I cried like a baby.

I have always craved, even pined for a relationship with my sisters. Oh, what I would have given for a real sister! You know the type - late night talks, giggling, hugging, weekend visits, long talks on the phone, excited to see each other, "Oh, how I've missed you!" kind of sister! But alas! No. Born one of six sisters, and even blessed with three sisters-in-law, I was never so lucky to have one of them who wanted to be my friend.

Was I so undesirable as all that? See, I grew up wondering that? I wish I could say I had outgrown that question. I wish I could say I had matured beyond that insecurity. I'm still just that lonely girl who thinks there must surely be something wrong with me that none of my sisters want me.

Mary is my oldest sister. She's nearly 20 years older than me. I can see why she wouldn't be interested in me. I mean, she's old enough to be my mom, right? But as I grew, I tried so hard to connect with her. I saw her make friends with my sister who is 2 years older than me, and she just didn't seem interested in me. She just never seemed to approve of me. I really love her husband, though. He's such a good guy. I never feel clumsy around him, like I do around her.

Kathy is my next oldest sister. Oh, how I used to worship her! I would have gone to the ends of the earth for her! I wanted to be just like her when I grew up. Then I grew up, and I still thought she was the bees knees. When I was in college she asked me to come spend the night with her when she was alone and having a miscarriage. I was scared to death, but I had to be there for her. I adored her, and would never have left her alone. Then, years later, we had a difference of opinion, and she decided she was done with me. She hasn't spoken to me in several years. She won't have anything to do with me.

Cindy is next down the line. When my sister just older than I am was born, she "claimed" her as her baby. Then when I came along, Cindy already had one, so she didn't need me. LOL That's the way it has always been, I suppose. She really has had no real need for me. It has always felt that way. I have tried so hard to force my way into her life. I guess she really just doesn't understand how desperately I have needed her love. How can you make someone love you? I know - you can't. I couldn't. I've seen her try, but it was always forced. You can't pretend such things. It just always seemed like she was pretending. I wish she could just figure out how to be my friend, and stop treating me like a little girl.

And then there's Beth. Since Cindy claimed Sarah as "her" baby, Beth claimed me, by default. I really did love Beth. Oh, I followed her around like a lost puppy dog. She could do absolutely no wrong in my eyes. Beth is 8 years older than I am. When I was little she took me places with her, and her friends would tell me how much I looked like her. I was so proud of that because I thought she was so pretty. She was my hero. When we would go on family trips I would snuggle on her lap. She was my "Bethie", and I was her "Ruthie". In our adult years, I continued to give her my heart as I did when I was little. I thought we were the best of friends. I supported her through her times of heartache. I was there for her when she needed me. And when the most horrible thing in my entire life came upon me, she tore my heart out and left me bloody and dying.

Last but not least, there is Sarah. She never liked me, not for a second. My stomach turns when I think of her. I know that I deluded myself into believing that she cared for me at times. I would have given my life for just one kind word from her at any time. I agonized over every minute I was with her. I lived in hell by her side. She was the most cruel person I have ever known. We shared a bedroom all of our growing years. We even lived together in college. Everyone thought we were great friends - that would be because I just followed her around everywhere and tried everything I could think of to please her. I wanted her approval so desperately. I talked like her. I dressed like her. I wanted her friends. I wanted her to LOVE me!!! She was only 2 years older than me, and I always just thought we should have been friends. It made sense to me. Why wouldn't we be friends? It was obvious, wasn't it? But when we were quite young, she had a new friend over - Lora Miller. I remember the day quite distinctly. I remember the introduction, word for word: "This is my sister, Ruth. But I hate her." And that was it. Life pattern set. End of story. Script written for the rest of my life with her. You might think that was just a silly sibling thing that would pass. It never did. I was only a convenience for her when someone better wasn't around, and there was usually someone better around. We haven't spoken in over a year. The last conversation we had was via email, and she made sure to let me know what a horrible nuisance I had always been to her growing up. I wrote back, releasing her from that burden once and for all.

Other women have come and gone in my life. I have desperately yearned for a sister. I have found other sisters who have had great love for me. My own mother left me, and then returned to me. She loves me.

And yet, I still feel this empty place where my own sisters should be. Shouldn't they be there? Am I wrong to feel this? Is something wrong with me that they don't want me? What is it about me, that a lifetime of being who I am has just turned them away? Why can they just not accept me for who I am? In my time of greatest crisis they turned me out, deserted me and left me to die alone.

Why is it that I still miss them?

Fix You

2010-07-17T13:54:00.000-07:00

It was a year ago that I tried to kill myself. This is a very difficult month for me. I wish July would just go away. My emotions are so full, I find myself crying often, and feeling alone a great deal. My little family is very dear to me. Darrin is precious. I know that the Lord cradles me close. I feel the Savior's presence often. Even with these blessings, this is a trying time.

Leah had surgery on Wednesday of this week, and Tori will have surgery on Wednesday of next week. It seems almost as if these things have come at this time to occupy my mind so I will have less time to think of myself. I suppose I should be grateful for the timing, and yet I just can't find any way to be grateful for my children's suffering. I want them better now. I want to fix them and make them better now. I would take their pain and keep it for myself if I could . . .

When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below
When you're too in love to let it go
But if you never try you'll never know
Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I

Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Grandpa Norris

2010-07-05T09:55:00.000-07:00

Last night we went to see a delightful fireworks show. It was a real humdinger, I tell ya! Out of the blue, in the middle of the show, I was struck by the strongest feeling that my Grandpa Norris was there. I could feel him all around me. I kept thinking how this was just the thing he would have really loved. The music was loud, and I was singing along, just like he would have. He used to "deedle-deedle-dee" and hum along to things that had no words and he would bounce me on his knee like a grandpa does. He was so sweet and affectionate. Oh, how I loved him!

I found myself crying in the middle of the fireworks, big tears rolling down my cheeks, I missed him so much. It was so emotional!

Grandpa was made of joy and love and all good things. He knew how to take every moment, even the ones filled with sorrow, and find the good. He taught me how to be happy in spite of the bad things that come along, to find humor in the pain, and I'll be forever grateful to him for that.

I love you, grandpa, and I miss you every day! Thank you for the joy you've given me.

This song reminds me of grandpa:

What I'm looking for

2010-05-25T17:22:00.000-07:00

I have my husband and my kids, and the gospel of Jesus Christ. That's pretty much what I've found in life that I'm looking for. That makes me happy.

But I keep looking around, looking for more. Since being abandoned by my family of birth, I keep looking around. I'm not sure why. I find it unsettling. However, I have revisited some old friendships that have been really very heartwarming and sweet, and I'm really grateful for them. I had let myself become cynical about people, thinking nobody wanted me, that I was undesirable and ugly. My family made me feel that way. They had beat me down until I was certain I had no worth to speak of. When I was sure I had no value, I tried to end my life, thinking my own children would be better off without me.

What a fool I was!

I have so much more to do! I have so many more mountains to climb, so many more sunsets to see, so much more of everything . . . I still haven't found what I'm looking for.

Lovely

2010-05-11T10:33:00.000-07:00

Love seeketh not itself to please, nor for itself hath any care, but for another gives its ease, and builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.

-William Blake.

Just thinking . . .

2010-05-06T06:17:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking of Tom and Dea.

And the time is approaching the year mark of when I became suicidal. I lost myself a year ago.

I'm not there anymore, though.

I've been thinking about Tom and Dea, and my state of mind when I was suicidal, and how completely forgivable it is to be there. People are so harsh and critical about suicide. I think that comes of their sorrow and pain, and certainly of their confusion and desperation and sense of emptiness. All of it is understandable.

And I mean ALL of it is understandable - everyone's pain, everyone's feelings. I mean to say that even those who have taken their lives, even their pain and sorrow can be understandable, in time.

I just have so much love and compassion for Tom and Dea. I could explain, but I don't know that it would do any good here. Should I try? I don't know. That is so personal, I think. If you want me to, email me and I'll share my feelings with you personally. I can tell you how I feel, having been there and back myself.

This song says some of it:

Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it ok
There's always some reason
To feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memory seep from my veins
Let me be empty and, oh, weightless
And maybe I'll find some peace tonight

In the arms of the angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here

So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
And the storm keeps on twisting
You keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
It don't make no difference
Escaping one last time
It's easier to believe in this sweet madness
Oh this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

In the arms of the angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here

You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here

I love you Tom. I love you Dea. I want you both to know that I'm staying right here. The feelings may persist in me now and then, but they are weaker now, and I see now that my reasons for staying are bigger and stronger than my desire to run home to his arms, as beautiful and sweet as they are.

No kidding!

2010-04-01T11:22:00.000-07:00

Ok, I know I promised no blogging, but there's this really great contest, and if I mention it in my blog I get another entry, so here goes . . .

Check out this link!!!!! http://erinsummerillphotography.com/blog/?p=336&cpage=1#comment-147

Erin Summerill Photography is giving away an awesome frame, sitting and photo through her contest. You might as well check it out . . . ! You know you want to . . . ! Come on! What have you got to lose??? It will be fun!

Stop the insanity!

2010-03-23T09:44:00.000-07:00

I'm done with this blogging crap.

All I ever do is blog negativity. I went to Stake Conference (I don't really think that should be capitalized. Hmmm . . .) on Sunday and had this sudden inspiration that I'm just way too negative.

Duh.

And really I just come here and write down negative stuff. I'm not all about this doom and gloom that I always put down in print. Honestly!

Mostly I'm happy. Mostly. It seems like I just blog when I'm moody, so it must seem like I'm horribly unhappy, which isn't really the case.

So I'm not going to blog anymore.

I resign.

At least for now.

tee hee

My offensive nature

2010-03-18T12:49:00.000-07:00

Pardon me.

Excuse me.

I'm sorry.

Please don't mind me.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

Please, do pardon me, won't you?

How many times can I say it, and in how many ways?

Evidently not enough, and evidently I am not creative enough.

It doesn't matter, I suppose. I'm not going to change. I won't be who they want me to be. I won't claim to be a liar when I am not.

The truth I dared utter makes them squirm like slugs in salt, or like ants under a magnifying glass, so that just makes me a very, very undesirable creature - an unwanted thing. Nobody ever wanted to address the topic I brought up. It didn't matter that not addressing it was killing me. That didn't matter to them. Sacrificing me was all kosher to them, as long as it didn't mean disrupting their quiet little lives.

I get so tired of feeling like I'm stomping my feet and demanding attention.

No one is going to hear me.

It's exactly like screaming out into the blackness, only to hear the sound of my own voice echoing back at me.

No one is there.

So why do I keep doing it?

I don't know.

I want to quit. I really do. I just don't know how.

I'm fairly certain that nobody reads this. Even my husband doesn't read it. Who would? I just say the same things over and over.

I'm disappearing, I think.

I wouldn't mind, really.

I only hold on for my husband and kids. They're the only reason I bother to stay alive anymore. I've come to the uncomfortable conclusion that God, who I believe in without question, has stopped watching out for me, or has stopped holding me by the hand. I can't see any other reason behind the sorrow in my life. I believe in Jesus Christ. I know that he has suffered more greatly than I can ever imagine. But somehow that just doesn't bring me much consolation right now. I feel very distant from all that at this point. When the family I grew up in has betrayed me so heinously, and my parents are the very ones who have betrayed me most grievously - they being the ones who taught me the gospel itself, I suppose it would be unnatural for me not to be shaken to some extent. The interesting thing is that my belief in Christ and his gospel is not shaken at all. I'm just frustrated and confused at my level of grief, and the length at which I am asked to endure.

I don't know what God wants from me. I had a blessing not to long ago wherein I was told that God understood that I was frustrated with him. That was all. No words of comfort - just "Yeah, I can see why you would be bugged." Hmmm... What am I supposed to do with that?

I don't know.

So, I'm sorry.

Excuse me.

Pardon me.

People just get mad at me, no matter where I go, no matter what I do. I'm just that offensive, I guess. I think I'll just become a recluse. I'm not allowed to die, and my sheer nature is offensive to people. The only solution is to just crawl under a rock and live out the rest of my days.

If I happen to choose a rock you had plans for, well, please pardon me.

Excuse me.

Just let me know and I'll go someplace else.

I didn't mean to offend.

Alice

2010-03-12T18:26:00.000-08:00

We saw Alice in Wonderland last night. I had determined a year ago that I just wasn't going to see it, because I really, truly and honestly have never ever seen a single Tim Burton film that I have enjoyed at all. I think they're all the same - dark, boring and nasty. Most of them even have pretty much the same plot. However, the kids wanted to go see Alice, (my neighbor/daughter called it Alison in Wonderland, so that is what it will forever be dubbed, in my heart and mind) and off we went, free passes in hand.

It was the most amazing movie. I just can't say enough about it. I want to see it 5 more times right now. It was so endearing to me. It had a great story for kids, but it had an even better message for adults. It was visually stunning, and it was just lovely all the way around. I think it was Disney at it's finest. Walt would have been proud. Seriously.

Alice is a story of coming of age, of coming to believe in one's self. You should see it, really. And get the album.

Trippin out
Spinning around
I'm underground
I fell down
Yeah I fell down

I'm freaking out, where am I now?
Upside down and I can't stop it now
Can't stop me now, oh oh

I, I'll get by
I, I'll survive
When the world's crashing down
When I fall and hit the ground
I will turn myself around
Don't you try to stop me
I, I won't cry

I found myself in Wonderland
Get back on my feet, on the ground
Is this real?
Is this pretend?
I'll take a stand until the end

I, I'll get by
I, I'll survive
When the world's crashing down
When I fall and hit the ground
I will turn myself around
Don't you try to stop me
I, I won't cry

I, I'll get by
I, I'll survive
When the world's crashing down
When I fall and hit the ground
I will turn myself around
Don't you try to stop me
I, and I won't cry

It's been a year . . .

2010-03-01T11:46:00.000-08:00

It's been a year since I told my parents I was molested by my brother when I was a little girl.

So much has transpired in that time. My life has changed completely. The world I had anchored myself to, the foundation I had build myself upon, the very ME I thought I was - all have turned upside down in the past year. I have had to completely redefine myself and my world. I have had to find out what matters to me all over again, to rediscover the people in my life who actually care about who I am inside, and to find that my path to God was waiting for me all that time.

I found that the family I grew up in, including my own parents, were willing to sacrifice me and my happiness in order to preserve the fragile facade of 'normalcy' they choose to cling to. There is a natural plucking order in every family. In my family, I fell into the position of scapegoat. My brother Tom held that sorry role before I did, and after he committed suicide, they placed it upon my head. When I broke the code of silence, as Tom did, I was driven out and beaten to a bloody pulp.

Over the years, we did the same thing to my sister Kathy, albeit by degrees. I don't know how she put up with it. Although I was pretty much clueless about what went on with Tom, I was not innocent of what went on with Kathy. Of that, I am very, very sorry. I know how it all feels now to be on the receiving end of such cruelty and torment. Kathy is a better and stronger person than I am. After just a few months of such treatment from my family, I tried to kill myself, twice. I wanted to die. I just wanted to curl up and cease to exist. Even now I can still feel the sting of pain that comes to me when I think of those months of absolute darkness and despair that I spiraled into when my family cast me out.

I remember going through the stages of grief - denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance - over and over. I'm still going through them over and over again. I keep wondering if the cycle will ever end. I keep wondering if I will ever heal, will ever be a functional person again. Will I ever come to a point in my life where I won't feel like I have an 8-inch across shotgun blast-type hole going all the way through me where my heart should be? The truth is that I just don't know the answers to those questions. No one can really answer them for me.

After a year of betrayal and heartache, and time to heal, how do I feel?

Some days are good, and some days are bad.

That's really the best I can do.

I called and yelled at my parents a few weeks ago. I told them I hated them and wished they were dead. Our dog had died, and my 9 year old son was having nightmares of loss and abandonment, and they included his grandparents, of course. How could they not? I was so angry with my parents for their blatant disregard for their grandchildren! I told them so. If they had died, it would be easier for my kids than to have them just decide my child molester brother is more important than they are. How sick is that, anyway? So, on that day I just happened to wish my parents were dead. I confess I think it would be easier for me too. It would somehow be easier for me to forgive them once they were dead, than to have them living each day over and over, choosing not to care about the fact that they had betrayed me so horribly. Every day they live is another day they choose not to care about me. At least if they died, I know they would have to face the truth, and know that my brother actually did rape me when I was a little girl, and that I am not a liar.

I am not now a liar, nor have I ever been. I am not mistaken. My memory is not inaccurate or flawed in any way. My brother, Fredrick William Cobabe, Jr., sexually molested me. This would have been probably in 1977 or 1978. He is the oldest in our family, and I am the youngest - he is 21 years older than I am. At the time I would have been 6 or 7, and he would have been 27 or 28. He was married and had children then, and worked for my father. Because he worked in the family business, which was operated out of our home, he was around on a regular basis. He and my other brothers, who also worked in the family business, came home for lunch with our dad quite often. He previously had a criminal record as a sex offender in the State of California, and continued to have one after the time he raped me. Later, he moved to Utah where he continued his criminal career as a sex offender. He has always demonstrated a blatant disregard, and almost a disconnect from reality, when it comes to the welfare of family, where his sex offenses come to bear. Although I'm not an expert, I believe this is fairly typical of a truly criminal sexual addict. They just see no harm in what they inflict upon their victims.

This type of behavior seems to have been around in my father's family for at least a couple of generations. I have uncles who have had similar "problems". What do you do with that? In that past, it has always been a subject that has been swept under the rug. And, hey - that's what my parents have tried to do!

Frankly, that just makes me sick. How many other children did my brother molest?

But really, let's just sweep it under the rug, like the Catholic church.

But I digress . . .

It's been a year . . .

Am I better? Am I worse?

I'm seeing my therapist far less. I'm hardly seeing her at all, actually. I'm not a total train wreck anymore. (Between you and me, sometimes I feel like one - like now, for instance. This little moment of retrospect hasn't been altogether healthy, I don't think.) But really, for the most part, I'm seeing more silver lining than rainy day.

I do have a really incredible family. It just consists of my husband and children. That's all - no parents or siblings. Nobody else gets in. Maybe I have some friends. But I love my husband and kids so much. They are my treasures. Man, I just love them so much.

I've learned a lot about myself and I've grown about 40 feet tall. We had to build a separate doorway just so I could get in our house! I couldn't even duck to get in the front door, I grew so tall! Really, though, I'm not so sure about strength or anything. Sometimes I think I might still buckle under the weight, but I've really gained perspective. I don't find myself capable of judging too many people, having been in the gutter for so blasted long, personally.

And most importantly, I really just love my Savior. I just can't really talk about it here, because I can't put that kind of feeling into the right kind of words, I guess. Not right now. Not in this post. It wouldn't be right. Sometime soon, though. Just let me say that without his light, I would not be alive anymore.

So, a year. It hasn't been easy, and it hasn't been fun. I can't even say it has been really good. It has just been a year, and I've gotten through it.

On to the next. Man, I hope it gets easier.

The Olympics - I'm crazy!

2010-02-25T14:03:00.000-08:00

Oh, how I love the Olympics!!!

I didn't love the Olympics this much before this year, but I am just nuts about the whole deal this time around (except ice dancing). I really can't say why I'm so crazy about it all this year, but I just want to watch it all night and day.

Ok, to be honest, I don't really care that much about the figure skating routine, and ice dancing really just makes me want to barf, but even the Nordic events hold a relatively reasonable amount of interest for me. It just all makes me so thrilled!

And can I rave enough about curling??? NO!!! I love, love, love curling! It is such a wild and wooly sport, I can't even believe it! I've decided it is the perfect combination of bowling and chess. What a hoot! Oh, that game gives me an ulcer! I just love it!

Hockey - do you know that I have never liked hockey before this very year? These Olympic games have made me love hockey! I've become a hockey fan. Seriously! Who would have guessed!? I can hardly stand it! So now I'm this person who yells at the tv screen during a hockey game. What is that all about??? Sheesh!

The Olympics.

Go figure!

Who am I, anyway?

2010-02-23T10:09:00.000-08:00

I am . . . ?

We gain a great deal of sense of identity from the security we garner from our parents and the family we grew up in. At least, those of us who grew up in a family do. I don't know how it works for those who didn't grow up in a family. I can't really address that subject because I don't know.

So I have been struggling over the past year, really struggling because I've had to try to redefine myself as I've had to redefine my family. I've discovered that my family was not what I thought it was. My parents were not who I thought they were. I've become so disillusioned.

The truth is that they probably didn't really change. They've probably always been just who they are now. Or maybe my parents are different now because they are elderly, which does make sense (so maybe I should cut them some slack?). I don't know. Maybe my eyes are opened now and I see things for what they have really been all along. I know that I've put most of my family up on a pedestal my entire life, and I'm seeing things without rose colored glasses for the first time. I'm seeing things from a realistic perspective now.

It frustrates me.

I have to figure out not just who they are, but who I am. It isn't just that they look different from this perspective, but I do too. I understand that if I see them with all their flaws more clearly, mine are more evident as well. I'm not blind to all that. All that is painfully obvious to me. I spend too much time inside my own head, trying to figure out where and how I fit in this new world I've discovered.

I still haven't figured it out.

Let me know if you have any clues.

Rocky Mountain High!

2010-02-14T18:51:00.000-08:00

It's a miracle!

Please welcome the newest member of the Brandt family, Miracle!

We just couldn't stand it any more, so we made some frenzied phone calls on Friday, threw some things in overnight bags, and hopped in the old family truckster. We headed out for Denver, where we ended up on Saturday afternoon, to meet our new doggie. We adopted Miracle, who we are calling 'Mira' from a racetrack there. The racetrack had been closed (HOORAY!) and is being used to house dogs now, ironically, which are being adopted out. Colorado is no longer a racing state. Actually, Mira came from a closed racetrack in Tucson, Arizona, and was shipped in to Denver for adoption. So - our dog, which we are transporting to Utah to live with us, was born in Arizona, and sent to Colorado where we drove to adopt her! She's definitely well travelled for a doggie of less than 3 years!

So, funny story that isn't so hilarious - we're now trapped in a hotel in a charming little ski resort town called Silverthorn. We decided to pull off for a potty break for Mira and a couple of others in the family, and as we came to the traffic signal at the end to the highway offramp, I said to Darrin, "Wow, that car in front of us really smells bad! What is that, burning brakes?" (We were coming down the grade from the Continental Divide.) We agreed that it must be burning brakes, and felt really bad for that car in front of us. So we pulled into the gas station parking lot and got out. Darrin decided to check under the hood, just to make sure it wasn't our car that had that awful smell. Good news - nothing under the hood smelled bad! We started heading in to the store and as we did, Darrin paused and pointed to the passenger side wheel. I looked down and saw that there was smoke coming from the wheel well, and there was actually boiling liquid emanating from the center of the wheel hub.

Um, I don't know much about cars, but that didn't seem very good to me. Also, we had found the source of that "bad car smell". It wasn't that car in front of us!

So, here we sit with our super neat (honestly) new doggie, Mira, in a great (honestly) hotel room, completely stranded! It's Sunday, so no repair shops are open. Also, tomorrow is President's Day, so we don't know if any repair shops will be open then! This is a big adventure, to say the least. We're just going to hunker down and have some fun, whatever comes. That's really just our style, anyway.

We are nestled in at the tippy top of the Rocky Mountains, somewhere between the big tunnel under the Continental Divide and Vail. It is just as beautiful as it can possibly be. There was a big storm that came through last night, and another one is supposed to come through tomorrow. Hopefully we can get our axle fixed and it won't break the bank! Won't it be exciting to see what tomorrow brings???

Until then, the entire Brandt family, including our new addition, is experiencing an extreme Rocky Mountain High!

End of the world . . . and I feel fine!

2010-02-11T11:33:00.000-08:00

My thoughts have been racing like crazy lately - random and wild like this song. One minute I feel sad and blue and depressed and sure that things will be that way forever, and then I'm just happy and glad and I know that everything will be ok.

My whole family has been this way. It's wild how losing our Cairo has effected us this way. My sweet Jared, only 9 years old, has been having awful dreams. He dreams of loving and hugging Cairo, only to awake and find himself alone. Then he lays there awake and crying, all alone in the darkness. It isn't the dream that is so awful, but what he awakes to afterward. And then last night, he dreamed again of Cairo, and then dreamed of losing his grandparents who he had loved so much.

Damn them a million times over. Damn them to a thousand corners of hell! And I'm not kidding! I told them if they banished me they would be breaking my children's hearts, and that the choice was theirs. My children lived in their home for three years and grew to adore them in ways they could never have imagined. And then they made the conscious choice to abandon not only me, but to completely turn their backs on my children, their own grandchildren, who they knew to adore and esteem them in the highest fashion. My children felt that their grandparents could do no wrong! And then they did this to them! Oh, the deepest betrayal of all to their dear, young hearts! Oh, the pain and confusion! My poor darlings! What can I do for them? How can I mend their sweet little spirits? The poor things are having dreams of their abandonment by their trusted ones. What am I to do?

Somehow, I will pick up the pieces. I absolutely must put this back together.

This is the mess that caused me to attempt suicide. Can you imagine what it did to my tender little children?

It's the end of the world as we know it, and I feel fine . . . or at least I must pretend that I do, until my children believe it. Then maybe I'll really feel fine and we can move on.

BTW, I really like this frenzied rendition of this song. It really displays how I feel.

Lost Tribe - not so lost

2010-02-05T10:06:00.000-08:00

I read this amazing and very stirring article on CNN.com about a woman on a tiny island in India who died last week. Her name was Boa. She was the last surviving member of her tribe, and the last woman on the face of this entire earth who spoke her language. Can you imagine such a thing? How lonely that must have been for her! What a beautiful relief to finally die and return to the presence of all your loved ones and be able to speak your native tongue with those who understand you! What a blessing, seriously.

She was part of a tribe that is believed to be one of the oldest known human cultures on earth, dating back 65,000 years. How cool is that? They lived on the Andaman Islands, about 150 miles off the coast of India.

I wanted to post this neat video of her singing some of the old songs of her tribe, but the best I could manage was the link. I hope you'll follow it and see her and listen to her voice. It is a record of a culture that has died with her. It is a treasure that we can take with us, carry in our memories even though she and her culture have gone. Her entire language and culture have now vanished from the face of the earth, but here is a brief moment captured in time for us to relish. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I have. It really delighted me to know that I've been able to share in a part of something that has otherwise disappeared from our planet. I'll keep it in my mind forever, and that way it will live on after a fashion. It's nice to think of that way.

http://cnn.com/video/?/video/world/2010/02/05/bo.lost.language.cnn

Dea

2010-02-03T11:53:00.000-08:00

Dea was my cousin. I found out today that she died last week. I'm not altogether surprised, because I've been thinking that a family member had died. It was just a sense of something like that, an unsettled feeling that there was something I should have been aware of.

Dea and I became friends close to 10 years ago, over the internet. We would link up via instant messenging, and chat for hours. She was really sweet and good. She was several years older than I was, but we had shared similar life experiences. We became good friends right away. Dea had lived a hard life. She had made some lousy choices that had led her down some tough paths, and she hadn't been able to correct her course quite the way she would have liked. That never changed the fact that she had an incredibly good heart, though. She was a good woman, through and through. I loved her so much, although we had lost touch over the years.

She suffered from some major physical challenges, and dealt with awful pain. That was something we had in common, and something we understood about each other. Pain sears your soul and bonds people together, I think. She struggled with addiction to painkillers at times. I'll never judge her for that, because I know how it feels to be wracked by pain and have your body just cry out for relief. No one who hasn't experienced that can possibly understand, and there's just no point in trying to explain it.

Dea's family - her parents and her siblings - loved her and supported her. They may not have agreed with everything in her life, but they never deserted her. She wasn't a perfect person, of course not. Who is? But her family loved her. Dea seemed to have always been searching for the right person in her life. I don't think she ever found him, but I hope God, in his infinite wisdom, will help Dea work that out. I'd like to think of her happy that way - spending eternity holding hands with someone wonderful who makes her feel as completely special as she really is.

Carry you home

2010-02-01T13:48:00.000-08:00

Today we sent our dearest friend, Cairo, home to God.

Maybe that seems trite or insignificant to some, but to me it was really a very big thing. Cairo wasn't just a dog to any of us. She was a dear, dear friend and sweet love. She was the best dog ever. She came into our lives at a vital time, and bridged some great gaps that seemed impassable for us. Cairo filled holes in my heart when I was bleeding. She gave me unconditional love and hope. She was our plucky comic relief when we were desperate for it. In short, she saved our lives.

After much prayer and deliberation, Darrin and I decided that it was time to let Cairo go. The medication we had been giving her didn't seem to be helping her much. She was miserable. She wasn't improving like she needed to. Poor Cairo just couldn't walk, and she needed constant attention. She could not be left alone for a moment. She was not happy. I kept feeling impressed that she was unable to fulfill the measure of her creation.

So, after the kids went to school this morning, we got ready and took her to the vet. They kindly gave her a shot, and she went to sleep. She fell asleep in our arms as we loved her and urged her to run home.

She was a beautiful dog, with a beautiful spirit. I know that she is racing like the wind now, unfettered by the broken body that bound her.

Oh.

2010-01-31T20:15:00.000-08:00

My doggie is dying. She appears to have a brain tumor or maybe she had a stroke, we're not sure which. The vet tells us she won't last long. On Thursday she was ok, and in the night something bad happened. By Friday morning she couldn't walk anymore. She can't stand up on her own, can't pee very well, and can't poop at all. She hasn't been in pain, but the longer she goes without pooping, the more pain she's in. I think tonight will be her last night. I won't see her suffer like this anymore. I'll spend another night on the living room floor with her tonight. Tomorrow will be her last.

Tori won't leave her side. She just keeps sobbing. We haven't even told her we're putting the dog to sleep in the morning. We've done all we can to help ease the kids' pain, and prepare them for the loss. How can you do that, though?

No music today. I just can't feel it.

In need of sunshine!

2010-01-28T12:01:00.000-08:00

We just keep getting more and more snow! Where we live it is supposed to hardly ever snow, and yet we just keep getting dumped on! The old-timey locals are scratching their heads and just don't know what to think. We just keep shoveling and digging out, and waiting for some blue skies.

I'm kind of dumb and happy either way. Yesterday, though, I fell on the ice TWICE!!! I can't even remember the last time I fell on the ice, but I fell twice yesterday, just to make up for lost time. LOL Today I am so sore! Oh well. What can you do??? The second time I fell, I landed in a huge puddle of ice water, and ended up with super soggy feet and water splashed up to my hips. The end result was a shopping trip for new, waterproof boots. They are toasty warm and I am happy.

Today I feel sleepy and ready for hibernation. I also got a new cell phone because my old one was on the blink. My new one is cuter, but it is identical to Darrin's, Tori's and Leah's, so I think I'll have to go to Walmart and get some stickers - you know, um, ***BLING*** for the phone! How silly. I'm embarrassed to admit I'm going to do it. But how else will we tell them apart? Leah has little flowers on hers. I'll try to find something low key, something 'me-ish'.

Oh, also, I got Jared the most handsome pair of Sunday pants. They are, well, toffee colored, and plaid, with a lovely blue stripe that runs through the plaid. I'm very pleased with the whole purchase. They'll look so good with his blue shirt. But what tie will he wear? Maybe I'll just have to buy him a new one! LOL

And the crown jewel of the week is our trip to the thriving metropolis of VERNAL, UTAH, for the kids' swim meet this weekend. They all are swimming in races this weekend, so we'll go and get a hotel and have some fun. We'll just stay one night. Afterall, it IS Vernal in winter time. What did you think we were going to do???

This time of year, I'm packing my sunshine with me.

The week's laundry

2010-01-26T10:10:00.000-08:00

So, here's what's up this week -

I'm working on getting all the laundry folded. That's an ever menacing task. I can always get things washed, but getting it folded is another story. It seems like we live out of the 'clean' pile. Very tedious.

My big orange fish has big black splotches all over. Not a good sign. But I think maybe they'll just spontaneously go away?

My dog got all freaky weird kind of sickish yesterday. I heard this big crash, like maybe she saw a cat outside and bashed into the window. (Yeah, I know, she's not the brightest crayon in the box all the time.) But then she came in and crawled up on the bed by me and one of her legs wasn't working right and she was having a really bad muscle spasm in her shoulder for about an hour. Later she seemed to be paralyzed on one side of her body and she couldn't walk, and then she couldn't figure out how to lay down. Today she seems better, but she's really clingy. I wonder if she gave herself a concussion. Hmmmm???

I've been having a bunch of anxiety attacks. I don't know why. I keep having to take Klonopin. I have that love/hate relationship with Klonopin. It saves my bacon, that's for sure, but I just wish I could control my emotions on my own.

In Relief Society on Sunday the stupid lesson ended up being about honoring your father and mother. I leaned over to my friend sitting next to me and said, "Well, this is a difficult one for me. My dad came and sat on my couch last spring and disowned me." She just kind of blinked at me and said "I can see how that might make this difficult." I promptly buried my head in my lap and proceeded to cry. I didn't just cry. I BAWLED. And for some reason, I was just frozen on the spot. I couldn't get up. I couldn't leave the room. I was just sitting there crying and crying. I was shaking and crying. I was crying as quietly as I could, but everyone knew I was crying. I was all folded over onto my lap with my face buried in my hands, all snotty and teary, and I couldn't do anything about it. I was having a full-blown anxiety attack. I was just a mess. Finally I remembered that I had a great big handkerchief in my purse, left there from the temple dedication we had gone to a couple of months ago, so I leaned over and dug that out. I was able to mop myself up, and I do mean mop and the very literal sense of the word.

I just kept thinking "How can I honor my father and mother when they have not behaved honorably?" I have done everything I could to honor them throughout my life. Sure, I had my rebellious years, but I made amends for all of that. I've done all I could to honor my parents and serve them and treat them with respect. I've loved them unconditionally and I have treasured them. I have raised my children to do the same. My children loved and revered my parents, they adored them so much that when my parents turned their backs on me, my children were wounded perhaps as deeply as I was, albeit in different ways.

So, I went to my parents, whom I had always honored and trusted and loved, and I told them the truth. In return they betrayed me and dishonored me. They turned their backs on me. They disowned me and walked away.

How can I honor them?

That was the lesson that left me crumpled up in a ball in the middle of the RS room, bawling like a baby. I finally collected myself enough to leave about 10 minutes before the lesson was over. I felt so embarrassed. I felt really bad that I had done that to the teacher. I needed a Klonopin just then. The lame thing was that later I realized that I had one in my purse all along, and just didn't remember it! Me and my great brain! Oh well - if there's one thing in life I'm good at, it's making an ass of myself. We'll call that one mission accomplished!

I just keep wondering when I will stop crying about being hurt by those people, my family, you know. I honestly don't miss them. I don't want them back in my life. If they came to me today and apologized and said they wanted to be part of my life again, I would accept their apology, of course. But I would tell them I really couldn't have them in my life again. I've changed my life around and they just don't fit anymore. I've closed up those spaces. There were gaping wounds where they used to be, and they've healed over. I can't open them up again. I just can't do that. It would hurt me too bad. They almost killed me before with what they did to me, see? It just wouldn't be safe for me to open those wounds again. I can't. I couldn't. I wouldn't. I won't go there again. I'm moving on. I'm trying. I'm working on forgiving. I'm working on so much. It really is exhausting, but I'm working on it. Every day I'm working on it.

I feel like I'm pulling this enormous wagon up a steep hill with just straps on my back holding it to me. It is so heavy and precarious. Sometimes I could just fall backwards, and I don't know if I would recover. You just can't imagine how heavy it is, honestly. The work has to be done, I swear it does. But I can't tell if there's a top to this damn hill. I don't know if I'll ever be done! I don't know if the weight of the wagon will ever be lighter. I don't know if this will ever get easier or if I'll ever get stronger so it will feel lighter to me. I keep thinking I have to do this alone, too. I'm sure the Savior could help me somehow. I just have to figure out how. I keep thinking that if I pause long enough to get yoked up with Him, I might lose ground, or worse yet, sink into the mud. The mud is so horrible and deep. This is such awful work. How did I get here?

And the laundry keeps piling up. It never ends, does it?

This is a really lovely arrangement of this piece. It isn't the full piece, but I'll post that another time.

Happy music for a Thursday afternoon

2010-01-21T10:21:00.000-08:00

A few nice tunes for today. Enjoy -

You have no idea how hard it is to get this piece. Nobody wants to let me embed it to share it! Grouchy people are stingy over such a happy song! Enjoy it while you can! Whistle along, go ahead. I know you want to . . .

Stupid Fiddler, anyway . . .

2010-01-16T08:26:00.000-08:00

My father always idolized Tevye.

Do you know Tevye? If you know Fiddler on the Roof, you know Tevye. He was the main character in the story line. He had several daughters, which he was obliged to marry off, and felt the sting of that burden quite painfully.

Therein, I suppose, lies the tie my father felt with Tevye - the whole daughter thing. 5 daughters for Tevye - 5 daughters for my poor father. What a burden. Oy!

Poor Tevye was beset with the job of arranging marriages for his daughters, he, of course, thinking (as was the tradition of the day) that they should not do so themselves. Then, of course, his silly daughters went off and fell in love on their own, as daughters are wont to do. Tevye handled it all pretty well until his daughter, Chava, whom he forbade to marry outside the Jewish faith, eloped and defied him. She was in love! What was she supposed to do???

So then she returned and begged him to accept her and her new husband. What did Tevye do? Well, he refused to acknowledge her. He turned his back on her. He pretended she was dead, and ordered the rest of his family to do the same. So her mother and everyone in the family had to ignore her, pretend she wasn't even there while she was pleading and crying and begging. They all just pretended she was dead. Can you imagine such a thing? How horrible!

In the end, Chava and her husband went off to Russia, and Tevye took the rest of the family to America.

Interesting parallels here. See how my father romanticizes himself into the Tevye role:

So it wasn't marriage, but a revelation that went against tradition that my father couldn't deal with, so he simply disowned me. I became dead to him. And not only did I become dead to him, but with his pronouncement I became dead to the entire family. I'm not saying it well. Here's exactly how it happened -

As I've said, I went to my mom and dad last year to tell them about my brother Bill molesting me when I was a little girl. I was finally ready. I needed to tell them. It was time. After some time, (I'm not really sure about the passage of time - it all became very surreal) my dad drove over the mountain by himself, sat down on my couch and delivered a carefully rehearsed speech. He told me that he did not believe me. He told me that my memory was wrong. He told me that even if it did happen, he didn't see why I needed to tell about it now, after all this time. He told me that he just couldn't believe me because of how my memory had come to me. It was all too fuzzy, or something like that - I can't remember his exact words now. No matter what I said, he just refused to even discuss it. He had made up his mind. He had chosen to believe Bill, the son who had been convicted of sex crimes that my dad had no idea of how serious they were. My brother Bill was known to be a horrible liar his whole life, and yet my dad had chosen to believe him over me.

I was crushed, dazed, confused.

We got up. I saw him to the door. I was sobbing. We were planning to move to Texas at that point, at some nebulous time in the future. My dad said something to the effect that we should go ahead and go. He said he understood Texas was a "Hellacious" place, with hurricanes in the south and tornadoes in the south. I guess he figured it was a proper hell for me to be banished to (although it seemed a nice place to me!). Maybe it was comparable to Russia to him, to further the Fiddler analogy.

So I hugged him and I was sobbing. I told him I didn't know if I would see him again, and I was clinging to him. He pushed me away and said goodbye, then walked away as he handed me off to Darrin. Darrin pulled me in the front door, and I don't remember anything else for awhile, maybe days.

See, I really loved my dad. I mean, I just idolized him. I was absolutely a daddy's girl. I hung on his every word. And then he broke my heart. A while later, I was on Skype with my mom and she was in the living room. My dad walked by and I said "Hi Dad!" He ignored me. He walked by again and I really yelled "HI DAD!!!", so there was no way he could say he didn't hear me, but he just walked right on by and pretended he didn't even hear me at all.

Eventually my family quit having anything to do with me. They shunned me altogether. I put on a brave face and pretended I quit them, but the truth is they dumped me. They all did what my dad wanted them to do. They all pulled a Fiddler on me.

I didn't hold up very well at first. I tried to kill myself - twice. Darrin wouldn't let me go, thank goodness. Darrin is so good and strong, and he pulled me through this mess. He saved my life. I thank the Lord for him every day.

So, Tevye. My dad just thinks Tevye is so great. I think Tevye is a stupid, foolish jerk who cares more about his tradition than about his own daughter.

And that is the man my father idolizes. That is the man my father has emulated.

Pathetic, sorry excuse for a father.

frozen woman

2010-01-11T13:21:00.000-08:00

I'm SOOOO COLD!!!!!

Ok, this isn't me in the pic, I stole it from some random blog, but this is how I feel all the time - INSIDE AND OUT!!! I can't get warm! Something is wrong with my thermostat, and my body is not warming me up right. I'm a walking popsicle! I started monitoring my temperature this weekend, and quite regularly my temp is as low as 95.5 and it never gets higher than 97.6 or so, even though I sleep with an electric blanket and my hot-water-blanket-husband. This morning after my daily regimen of water aerobics, when my body should have been all warmed up from exercise, my temp was 94.7!

WHAT????

That is medically categorized as hypothermia! How lame is that?

Ok, I'm going to the doctor tomorrow. I have an appointment at 9:40. I'm so tired of being cold! I'll keep you posted.

So, anyway . . .

Regarding the previously mentioned Meltdown, (drumroll, pleeeease!) . . .

In week one of our diet, Darrin lost 18 pounds! Holy cow! Can you believe it??? What a freak!!! Men are so lucky! Way to go, Darrin! I'm so proud of him. How awesome, seriously.

And, I'm not sad to report that I lost 8 pounds! Yahoo! That is not shabby. N'est pas? It makes me happy!

I'm wondering if bringing my body temperature up to where it should be would boost my metabolism and help me lose weight. What do you think?

Also, along the frozen woman frontier - there's a group of ladies in our ward at church that holds a book club once a month. In the 3 years or so that we've lived here, I've always thought it sounded fun, and I've thought how nice it would be to go. Well, yesterday I made up my mind that this was the time to go! I was so excited! Thursday night is the scheduled night, and I was going to go get the book at the library and read it quick and just go for it! Then I got home from church and promptly talked myself out of it.

I'm just too scared. (frozen woman. deer in headlights. scared stiff.)

I'll admit it. I'm chicken. I'm totally crippled when it comes to social situations. My sole thought is this - "What if they don't like me?" I worry that I might say stupid things, or that people will just be annoyed by me. I know I'm a little bit more than off, and people think I'm weird sometimes. I get that, ok??? I understand that I don't always fit in, but should that prohibit me from attending any and all social situations?

Oh, I don't know.

So, I ended up crying to Darrin about how I just wouldn't go to the book club because I was afraid of not being accepted. In the end, I just don't know if I can take rejection - not after 2009.

FEAR is a four-letter-word.

Lord, have mercy on the frozen woman.

The BIG MELtdown!!!

2010-01-05T11:03:00.000-08:00

So, I'm on a diet. Isn't that just HILARIOUS??? I mean, seriously, isn't that just the iconic New Year's joke? How ridiculous is that? For Pete's sake! I've fallen for the traditional pitfall of all pitfalls!

However . . . I did put on a few pounds over the holidays . . .

I blame it on my medication . . . um . . . yeah! It was my Lyrica - notorious for causing weight gain. But I wouldn't trade it for the world. Really, it does tend to cause weight gain, but I take it for the pain of my fibromyalgia, and it reeeeally does work. And it doesn't give me the rotten side effects that painkillers do, so I just love it. I'm not taking narcotics for the pain anymore, so I just feel so grateful. I'll just have to work a little harder to shed the extra 8 pounds the Lyrica (and the holidays!) made me gain!

So, the local wellness center and the hospital have this big "Meltdown" weightloss program, like The Biggest Loser kind of thing. You sign up with your team, pay $20 and go on a diet for 3 months. Whoever loses the greatest percentage of body fat at the end of 3, 6, 9 and 12 weeks wins prizes and money. Cool beans! I have no doubt we won't win, but it does motivate me to not be the idiot who doesn't lose weight each week when we weigh in, so the pressure alone should help!

Yeah, stress and pressure!!! Just what I need!!!

So, anyway, last night I ended up with some nasty stomach bug, and was stuck in the bathroom for a couple of hours. This morning I weighed myself, and I had lost 5 1/2 pounds! Hooray!!! The diet is working already!!! LOL Does that count?

Hey, I'll take it anywhere I can get it.

:)

Let it be kind . . .

2010-01-01T09:46:00.000-08:00

Ok, so the new year rang in last night, and we toasted it with our traditional non-alcoholic beverage. The kids love to do it, and we always have to do it but always forget until the very last second. Its always a mad rush in the very minute before midnight, but we always get a splash in the glasses and get the glasses raised just before the 10 second countdown. Then there comes the inevitable, joyful shout of:

10!

9!

8!

7!

6!

5!

4!

3!

2!

1!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Everyone is so happy and dancing around, and the glasses clink, and there's just so much really gleeful chaos. The kids are pulling their poppers and streamers are flying. And then Darrin and I have to dash off to get Tori and her friend from their teenager dance at the LDS stake center. Good times . . .

It's cold outside, really cold, and that brings me back to my senses a bit too abruptly. It shocks me a bit, I guess. I settle into the passenger seat, and very suddenly I find myself sobbing, just sobbing so deeply. It comes from deep within me. It surprises me, coming from places of fear and sorrow I had tucked neatly away over the last 365 days of pain and and torment. Hidden things come peeking out to see what the fuss is all about, craning their necks around corners of doors too recently closed. Darrin just drives on toward our destination, holding my hand and letting me do whatever it is I'm doing.

My thoughts become cohesive - "Dear Lord", I begin to pray, "Please! PLEASE! Let this let this coming year be better! Just let it be better! My silent prayers become vocal as my sobs begin to calm, and Darrin hears, and understanding dawns. He squeezes my hand and says "We'll make it better, ok? We'll just MAKE it better!" There's a tone of desperation in the end of his statement. It's a declaration, a pronouncement. Somehow it will happen. I don't know how. I just don't know how, but it has to get better, doesn't it?

I'm going to be honest here - painfully so, in the hope that I might get some poison out of a wound and be able to just move on. One of the most horrible things that happened to me in 2009 was the betrayal of my brother Jim. If he reads this, I have no doubt that he will derive some sadistic pleasure from the reading thereof, and I honestly haven't written or even spoken of it prior to this moment because I just haven't wanted to give him the satisfaction of knowing how deeply he hurt me, but I'm beyond caring about that now. I'm ready to move on. He can't hurt me anymore. I'm removing his barbs. He has no hold on my anymore, no more control. By doing this, I am completely removing him from my life.

You see, I saved his life a year ago. He was dying, and resigned to it. He wanted to die, and no one knew what to do to save him but me. I had prayed about it, and the Lord gave me direction. Jim is a divorced man who has wasted his life feeling sorry for himself. He has chosen to be a pathetic loser and just spindle away his days doing mostly nothing. He lives with our parents, who are now in their 80s, in the garage and just was getting fatter and fatter every day until he finally had a stroke. And then he had another, and another. He was in really bad shape. He was dying.

So, nobody knew what to do with him and my mom called me and asked me to come. I prayed about it, and the Lord told me what to do. I needed to take him to the University of Utah to the Neurology team there. I needed to get him admitted to the Neurology ward. I didn't know what would happen, really, but that was what I needed to do. It was what I was going to do. So I did it. Everyone was a bit confounded that I actually did - the family, the ER people, the doctors. Nobody could really figure out how I got him admitted. I kind of bullied my way in, but I did it. He was there for 2 weeks before they figured out what to do with him, and I never left his side. The doctors didn't know what to do with him. They couldn't figure out what was going on, and they were ready to discharge him because they were baffled and didn't think they could do anything. But I was just waiting, because the Lord had told me to bring him there.

And then in the middle of the night one of the doctors decided to MRI his entire head and spine. It turned out he had a couple of tumors along his spinal column, called schwanomas, that were causing some of the paralysis and stroke-like symptoms he was experiencing. He went in for neuro surgery the next day.

Better than that, his sons, who had been estranged from him since his divorce 10 years before, came back to him. I spoke to them early on in Jim's hospitalization and told them that if they were ever going to reconcile with their dad, they needed to do it then, because he might die. So, they got together and came to see him. All was forgiven and they found out that they all loved each other. It was quite sweet and good.

Jim became physically better, and spiritually far better. He not only was able to live physically, but found reason to live! It was so amazing. It was a thrilling experience to go through with him. We became so close during this time, I can scarcely describe it. My heart opened up to him in a way it never had any of my brothers. During the 2 weeks I spent at the hospital by his bedside I developed such love and absolute devotion toward Jim. It was one of the sweetest experiences of my life.

I believe it also opened me up to allow me to remember being molested by our other brother. The trust I developed for my brother Jim was key in allowing my memory to come forward regarding our brother Bill, who Jim and I discussed in some detail in our hours together in the hospital. I trusted Jim so intimately, so deeply. When I went to my parents to disclose the most private and secret nightmare that I had kept to myself for over 30 years, that I had been sexually accosted by my oldest brother while in my tender years, Jim sat with us at the kitchen table. I felt comfortable having him there. I trusted him with that awful secret. He was my confidant. He was one of my truest friends, I felt.

Jim had called me a gem, a treasure, a jewel. And in the time to come after I disclosed the awful truth of my childhood rape, I went to him privately to speak with him about it. He told me that although he did not know exactly what to think, he knew that Bill was a liar and that I was not, so he felt inclined to believe me. I felt satisfied with that. I felt happy, in fact, that my dearest brother would stand beside me and support me in my time of agony and sorrow. I was so alone - my parents were calling me a liar, and I was trying to stand tall in the truth that I knew. I had been a victim, and my oldest brother was a convicted sex offender. My parents were defending his past behavior by saying that he was currently reformed! What an illogical defense!

And then Jim changed his mind. And then Jim was no longer my friend. And then the betrayal came, the attack began, the onslaught ensued. It was fairly bloody and ugly. I was stupid and hapless, even I must admit. I was witless and unexpecting. It was sabotage, really, a total ambush. He hunted me down and made his mark, and then stepped on my neck, the victor. Jim has always enjoyed a good barb, a good twist of the knife. He is rather sardonic and cruel that way. We've had a good laugh or two about that now and then. He enjoys a superior attitude about his brilliant intellect. He likes to play the fool as a means of laying in wait for his prey, and then he'll pounce when the moment is right. I've observed this behavior in him often, even been the victim of it many times myself, but never in such a cruel manner.

Good aim! Well met, old friend.

But was your marksmanship really worth the price?

And so I wrapped up my fretful sobbing session in the car as we pulled into the church parking lot to pick up my oldest daughter and her friend. I had brought glasses and another bottle of fakey bubbly stuff to toast the new year with Tori and her friend, and poured a splash into each glass (I brought pomegranate for Tori, her favorite, of course!). Our glasses clinked together as we cheered on the new year with joy. "Bring it on!", I thought! Bring it on, indeed. In the last year, I've danced through hellfire and splashed through high water!

Oh, let the next year be kind to us all . . .

Auld Lang Syne

2009-12-30T13:39:00.000-08:00

So the year, and the decade, is drawing to a close, and I am glad.

I find myself reflecting on the past year with a mixture of emotion that is somewhat overwhelming. In 2009:

I rolled a car in the mountains.
I remembered having been sexually molested by my own brother.
I was rejected by the family I grew up with.
My husband almost died.
I tried to kill myself not once, but twice.
I spent a week in a psych ward (we called it the wacky shack), trying to keep myself alive.
I passed over 100 kidney stones.

and on the flip side:

I learned through intense pain and sorrow what really matters to me.
I learned that there are a precious few people in my life who will stand by me though the fires of hell may rain down upon me and demons may threaten to swallow me with their ghastly jowls agape about me.
I learned that people I thought really cared about me just didn't care that much, and people who were relative strangers to me cared enough to be my heroes.
I learned that my husband and children are more sweet and priceless than any treasure, and rather than throw my life away in the depths of my sorrow I want to give my life to them.
I remembered that the only way to find myself is to walk with my Savior. He is my friend and my guide. He is so kind and good, and he just doesn't judge or condemn in any way. He just takes me by the hand and gently leads me along. How cool is that, anyway?

I sat in the emergency room for 6 hours last night with my husband. He fell on the ice and ended up with a concussion. I was just so worried about him. All I can do is be grateful.

At the end of the year - at the end of this really crazy and mixed up year, all I can do is be grateful. When all is said and done, even with all that has been taken from me this year, what I have to be thankful for is beautiful. When I sit down at the end of the day and look at all the amazing things that have fallen in my lap, I am in awe. The sun has set and I am content.

Don't get me wrong - I'm not tempting fate! I'm not saying 'bring it on'! I could really use a vacation! I'm just saying that life is good. That's all.

It's a wonderful life! This is a good clip, even if it is chopped off a bit at the end. I feel like George Bailey. In the end, he was still stuck in the same life with his unfulfilled dreams and the same mess to clean up, but he just had figured out that all of it was really great and he wouldn't trade it for anything. The crappy stuff really was insignificant and couldn't measure up when compared to the great stuff. It really IS a wonderful life . . .

Random thoughts . . .

2009-12-28T09:33:00.000-08:00

The holiday season always seems so chaotic. I have so many mixed feelings. I'm so happy - so very, very happy. And then I'm so sad and blue - not really depressed, just sad. Life is just crazy. I'm up one minute and down the next. Crazy, see?

Christmas was just lovely. There was absolutely not enough money. I don't have a family to ask help from, and Darrin's family is just not there to ask help from financially or in any other way, so we were really panicked. I was actually having such horrible panic, I was starting to develop an ulcer. Then our sweet neighbor announced to me that she and her family had "adopted" our kids for Christmas. Her son works for a local car dealership, and the dealership was going to provide Christmas for our kids. Between them all, our kids had a really neat Christmas. Everything worked out so great. I felt so humbled and blessed. We were really well taken care of, and I felt the Lord's spirit upon us in such a way that I had never felt it before.

And then, of course, I missed having extended family around. It's funny, I've quit missing the individual members of my family. I don't miss any one of them anymore. That's kind of nice. The sting is gone that way. But I do miss the idea of a family. There's a hole there, where the family gathering should be. It's lonely.

But I have my own family, and they are so amazing. They fill my life with so much joy. How could I ever ask for more?

Up and down. Chaos. Aaargh!

Silent Night - Most Holy of Nights

2009-12-23T15:46:00.000-08:00

I wonder why it is that we celebrate the birth of the Christchild on the morning after he is supposed to have been born? Do you ever wonder about that? I mean, he was born at night, right? The star appeared at his birth. The angels appeared to the shepherds-abiding-in-their-fields-keeping-watch-over-their-flocks-by-night. But then we celebrate the next morning. Why don't we celebrate on Christmas Eve? We do presents on Christmas Day because that's when the Wise Men brought presents and all, but we really just let Christmas Eve go by without even mentioning that this was the great moment of the Christchild's birth - the moment the Savior of All Mankind entered into the world of men! It was the single most monumental moment in the history of all mankind, and we skip over it in anticipation of the morning to come.

Oh, I'm not being negative about it all. Don't mistake my commentary for so much derogatory curmudgeonry. I'm just saying there's some really good stuff we're missing out on. I just love our Savior so much, and I, myself miss out on this opportunity to show him my thanks. I'm going to do my best not to miss it this year.

So, in thanks, I offer the following, in anticipation of Christmas Eve - the night of the Savior's birth:

Daughters

2009-12-06T05:28:00.000-08:00

I'm certain I've posted this one before, but I woke up at 3:30 this morning with really amazing very early childhood memories pouring out of my brain, and this song seems appropriate right now. It's a great tune, and this is a nice recording, very mellow - melts your heart.

I know a girl
She puts the color inside of my world
But she's just like a maze
Where all of the walls all continually change
And I've done all I can
To stand on her steps with my heart in my hands
Now I'm starting to see
Maybe it's got nothing to do with me

Fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too

Oh, you see that skin?
It's the same she's been standing in
Since the day she saw him walking away
Now she's left
Cleaning up the mess he made

So fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too

Boys, you can break
You'll find out how much they can take
Boys will be strong
And boys soldier on
But boys would be gone without the warmth from
A womans good, good heart

On behalf of every man
Looking out for every girl
You are the god and the weight of her world

So fathers, be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
So mothers, be good to your daughters too
So mothers, be good to your daughters too

Circle of Life

2009-12-03T11:26:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was just a really great day. I feel so happy and blessed. I wish I had the words to express the feeling of true love and gratitude I have in my heart for my Heavenly Father and for Jesus Christ. Words fail me, truly.

I love this song. I think the lyrics are beautiful. I really admire Elton John's musical talents as well. He's an amazing musician - he plays and composes and arranges all kinds of music, and I think he's just incredible. So, good song -

From the day we arrive on the planet
And blinking, step into the sun
There's more to be seen than can ever be seen
More to do than can ever be done

Some say eat or be eaten
Some say live and let live
But all are agreed as they join the stampede
You should never take more than you give

In the circle of life
It's the wheel of fortune
It's the leap of faith
It's the band of hope
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the circle, the circle of life

Some of us fall by the wayside
And some of us soar to the stars
And some of us sail through our troubles
And some have to live with the scars

There's far too much to take in here
More to find than can ever be found
But the sun rolling high through the sapphire sky
Keeps great and small on the endless round

In the circle of life
It's the wheel of fortune
It's the leap of faith
It's the band of hope
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the circle, the circle of life

Happy Birthday!

2009-12-02T16:24:00.000-08:00

Today is my birthday!!!

I was really gloomy for a few days, because I kept thinking that I was turning almost 40. (Today I turned 39. Shhh.) But then I woke up really happy this morning and I've had a really great day. Whenever anyone has said happy birthday to me, I've said happy birthday right back, because it has just been such a great day, I've decided it was good enough to share.

Hey, it's my birthday, and I write the rules!!!

So, happy birthday to you too!

I found this song, and it really cracked me up. I think you'll enjoy it too.

Blessings

2009-11-23T13:20:00.000-08:00

Today I went to a really great funeral. We have really great funerals in the LDS church. I think that doesn't happen in other religions, so probably other people think that's a weird thing to say. We tend to celebrate life, and look at death as a passing on to other phases of living. It isn't so much an end of living as it is a beginning of something more. Sure, we miss the person who has moved on, and we feel sad that they have passed, but we don't think they are gone forever. We believe that we will be with them again, so we don't mourn them with finality.

So, the man whose funeral I went to was my niece's father-in-law, and my family podiatrist. His name was Dennis Blackburn. He was a very good man who was loved by so many people, the funeral was just so crowded it was neat. His family loved him deeply, and he obviously loved them. It was very touching.

The whole thing made me grateful. This Thanksgiving, and Christmas season, we're going to have a new tradition in our home. On Thanksgiving, we'll start a "Blessing Jar", by writing down blessings on strips of paper. Throughout the holiday season, we'll add strips of paper as we think of blessings, and then on Christmas morning we'll read all of our blessings. We'll just stop and take the time to thank the Lord for all of our blessings. In the middle of all of the chaos of opening Christmas presents and seeing what we got, we'll stop to remember the gifts we've received from God, and we'll thank him especially for the gift of his child, the Christ Child, the Savior of the world.

Happy Thanksgiving. Don't forget to count your blessings and remember from whom they came.

Inspiration

2009-11-12T06:39:00.000-08:00

Last night was the girls night for their special Young Women In Excellence program. It is a night where they get to show something they've been working on over the past year in their Personal Progress goals. Tori had a goal where she had studied a bunch of scriptures of people who had great integrity and then she wrote about her impressions of them in her journal, and Leah learned about the Plan of Salvation and reported on it to the family. At the program, the girls each were given a neat bookmark with a quote by Neal A Maxwell, which has really impressed upon my mind. I just keep thinking about it, and I wanted to share it here -

"The same God that placed that star in a precise orbit millennia before it appeared over Bethlehem in celebration of the birth of the Babe has given at least equal attention to placement of each of us in precise human orbits so that we may, if we will, illuminate the landscape of our individual lives, so that our light may not only lead others but warm them as well."

This really got me thinking. This is one of the most beautiful things I've ever read, honestly. I've been absolutely inspired by it. What he's saying here, essentially, is that we are all placed here to be saviors, in our own way, to the people in our lives. Isn't that an amazing and wonderful idea? It does carry some weight, as well. I mean, we're responsible for the people around us. We aren't just here to take care of ourselves. We are stars, here to shine for others, to light the way for them and to warm them with our light. What a sweet thought. Here's another great quote, from a book called Strangers No More, by Beverly Campbell:

"A most glorious truth, which should be trumpeted from the highest battlement and received with joyous shouts of hallelujah, is that each one of us comes to this earth at exactly the pre-appointed time, along with a bevy of others known to us before we were here. They and we were sent to support one another and to help one another in the fulfillment of our missions."

I just really love this idea. I love the people around me so much. I've tried really hard to love the people in my life and keep them close to me. I haven't always been able to hold on to the people who I think I should, and that makes me sad. I've lost my mom and dad, and my brothers and sisters. They've all slipped away from me. I mourn them every day. I can't pretend there isn't a great hole in my heart over that. But I have my sweet husband and kids, and some other really great people around me, and I hold them close. I feel so grateful for them. I'm trying to shine for them as brightly as they shine for me. They are my saviors on earth for sure.

How wonderful life is when they're in the world . . .

Blessings

2009-11-09T12:22:00.000-08:00

This is such an awesome place. This is the LDS Temple in Manti, Utah, or one of the temples of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

On Saturday, my husband and I were able to take a dear friend of ours to the temple for her first time. It was just so awesome. We really had a great time. The feeling is indescribable. Soon she will be able to be sealed to her husband and children who have died before her. That means that they will be able to be together for all of eternity. Can you imagine her joy, seriously? Her best friend and husband died before her, and then each of her two children died before her, leaving her to raise her two grandchildren on her own. What an amazing woman, so strong and lovely. She is truly an elect lady. I am humbled and graced to call her friend.

Blessings.

2009-11-05T11:20:00.000-08:00

Ohhhh, yesterday I had to stop suddenly, and found that Jared had not buckled up. It was a near disaster.

He was sitting in the very back seat of our van, and we have the middle seat out on the side he was sitting on, so he flew forward all the way to the back of the front seat, where he hit his head. He was on the driver's side, so I felt him hit the back of my seat. I was just sickened by it. I turned around and my first reaction was to yell at him - "YOU NEED TO BE BUCKLED!" Now, I never yell at my kids, seriously. He just said, "Sorry." Then I asked him if he was ok. He had a little red spot on his forehead. I had only been going about 15 mph when I braked, so it wasn't horrible, but still, the potential was there for him to have been really hurt. I was so worried.

He was fine.

That didn't change the fact that I freaked out. As soon as we got to the school, I checked him out thoroughly, and made him tell me how he was feeling about a million times. I said he was fine, and that he was so sorry for not being buckled. I just told him I was sorry I drove off without checking, because I always, ALWAYS check to make sure the kids are buckled. That won't happen again! So then I was so worried still, I called his teacher to have her pay special attention to him in case he got to feeling sore or sick later in the day, so she would call me and let me know. He was fine, of course. I still felt so bad that I had to go pick him up for lunch and have a special lunch date with him to let him know he is my special boy. I love him so much I could just eat him up!

Anyway, I'm just feeling happy to have him. My dear friend, Tammy, had her sweet baby boy a week or so ago. She is amazing, and her baby boy, Jackson, is so darling. What a blessing little boys are. What would we do without them?

Heartbeats and bouncy balls

2009-10-16T10:37:00.000-07:00

Ok, it's a commercial, but doesn't it just make you happy?

Chili Dog - Moving on . . .

2009-10-08T10:31:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I'm moving on. This is a good song to start with.

Make my bed out of Wonder Bread
Spread that hot mustard on my head
I don't need no onions and sauerkraut and all
Hold on to the bun, work it on out now.

I'm a chili dog
I guess you guessed by now, now.
Yes, and I'm a chili dog.
Delicious!

Don't get jealous
Don't get over zealous, oh baby.
Come on now fellas,
Pass me down the relish.

Don't read me no Ann Landers
Don't feed me no Colonel Sanders, oh now.
Well, I ain't tryin' to fool us, ain't tryin' to fool us,
Never bring me home no Orange Julius.

I Gotta have the one, two, three -
I gotta get the dog in me, baby.
Yes indeed, I want a chili dog, mmmm.
Talkin' about it, so delicious
Good for you too!

Fire and Rain

2009-10-08T10:23:00.000-07:00

I've seen fire and rain for sure. Everything JT talks about in this song, I can definitely say I've been there and done that. So what, I guess. I've got to just say "so what!", and move on. I know there's been a ton of crap and tragedy in my life. I could sit down and make an ugly, fat list of it all, and it would choke me, it would kill me. But I don't want to do that. I'm tired of that. I want to go on and be a happy person, not dwell on the sorrows of the past.

I keep trying, and people and stuff keep sucking me back into the sorrow. I guess I have to be stronger. I have to make changes inside, and just grow beyond the sorrows. I really am working on it.

Don't you love the cello in the background of this arrangement?

Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone
Suzanne the plans they made put an end to you
I walked out this morning and I wrote down this song
I just can't remember who to send it to

I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again

Won't you look down upon me, Jesus
You've got to help me make a stand
You've just got to see me through another day
My body's aching and my time is at hand
And I won't make it any other way

oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again

I’ve been walking my mind to an easy time
My back turned towards the sun
Lord knows when the cold wind blows it’ll turn your head around
Well, there’s hours of time on the telephone line
To talk about things to come
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground.

oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you, baby, one more time again, now

Thought I'd see you one more time again
There's just a few things coming my way this time around, now
Thought I'd see you, thought I'd see you fire and rain, now

Mothers of the Disappeared

2009-10-05T13:07:00.000-07:00

This is a very sad song. Bono has mothers of the disappeared come on stage and show pics of their children, and tell the date they disappeared, while he does the song. He's a really sweet man.

My mom doesn't care what happened to me. When I tried to kill myself, she wouldn't even come to the hospital, although my husband begged her to. She would never stand on a stage for all the world to see, holding a sign with my face on it that asked "Where is she?". To her, I'm just an embarrassment, an inconvenience.

Another Day

2009-10-03T13:02:00.000-07:00

So I cried for two days, and now I'm moving on.

Last night Darrin and I gave each other new wedding rings. When we were married, Darrin and I didn't have much money, and we paid for our own wedding and reception. We had a great time, and it was all just perfect. We wouldn't have changed a thing, really. It was so - us. We had decided we couldn't afford wedding rings, that we would hold off until we could afford them, although we had found a picture of some bands in a magazine that we just loved. They were so simple and beautiful, and they suited us so well.

As it turned out, Darrin and my parents made a secret plan that I wasn't privy to. My parents had an old friend who was a jeweler, and they had him make our wedding rings. It was all very sweet, and it was my parents' gift to us for our wedding day. It was to be a surprise for me - Darrin would just pull them out of his pocket after the sealing. But my bratty sister, Sarah, just couldn't stand it. She always had to ruin things for me. She was so bitter about her little sister getting married before her, she just had to find some way to spoil things for me. Evidently my parents had asked her to go and pick up the rings when they were ready. I was talking on the phone with her, and she nastily spat something out about how bugged she was about having to go pick up the wedding rings. Of course, I was totally blown away. What could I say? I told Darrin that Sarah had told me, and he was so disappointed. I pretended, for my parents' sake, that it was a surprise, on the day of our wedding.

But those wedding rings have never had the same luster. They have always carried my sister's bitterness and hatred. Of course I have loved them because they were our wedding rings, a symbol of our commitment and devotion, a token of our love. But this spring when Darrin was deathly ill and in the ICU for a week, his poor body was so full of infection that even his fingers were so swollen, we had to have his ring cut off. It was horribly mangled in the process, and there was no way we could repair it.

So, we've been scrimping and saving and just yesterday were finally able to pay off our new wedding rings. Last night we lit candles and exchanged our new rings. They are so beautiful. They're silver, with celtic knots going around the band, which is edged in gold. It was such a sweet evening for us, and all of my sadness was forgotten.

I just love my Darrin so much. I always think that eternity can't possibly be long enough.

There are Worse Things I Could Do

2009-10-02T10:52:00.000-07:00

This song pretty much sums up the way my family - my parents and siblings - make me feel. Just go ahead and substitute the phrase "my family" for "the neighborhood" when Rizzo sings "even though the neighborhood thinks I'm trashy and no good".

Ironically, I played Rizzo in our high school's rendition of Grease. I was pretty good, I think. I cried every night when I sang this song. I mean, I really understood it. I identified with it. Later, I had moved to another high school in another part of the state, and my parents told me how there had been a big scandal about the school doing the play because of my part. They told me how people had written into the local paper and complained about me and my character and how "trashy and no good" I was. You know, I was just playing the character, and I did it well. Why did my parents have to even tell me that? I knew they were ashamed of me already. It just gave me this lead weight in my chest and made me feel further that they felt that I really was "trashy and no good". I felt like such a no class loser.

So my mom called yesterday. Sheesh. I've even changed my phone number so I wouldn't have to hear from her anymore, and I didn't think she had my cell phone number, but lo and behold, I get this call from "Cobabe" on my cell phone. I almost didn't pick it up. I was already having a rotten day. I said hello, and I knew I shouldn't have. Turns out my dad is in the hospital with pneumonia. He's been there a few days I guess. He's going to be fine, but she claims she thought he was going to die, but now he's not, and she just thought he would be so happy to hear from me.

NO.

Immediately I started sobbing and I told her he doesn't want to hear from me. He doesn't even like me. He doesn't want to talk to me. He doesn't want anything to do with me. The last time I spoke with him, he drove 3 hours to tell me I was a liar (because I finally told them my brother had raped and sodomized me) and that I should move away and not come back. Why would he want to hear from me now? Besides, when I was so suicidal after they had rejected me, did they call me or come to see me? Nope. They don't want me. They don't want anything to do with me.

To them, I'm just "trashy and no good".

There went months of therapy, out the window.

Elizabeth Smart - Miss American Pie

2009-09-30T12:23:00.000-07:00

Bye Bye Miss American Pie - What a song. This is the song for today. THIS is a link to an interesting analysis of the song itself. It talks about the breakdown and disillusionment of America - a sort of loss of innocence.

It makes me think of Elizabeth Smart. Only, she somehow managed to stay whole and good and pure. Surely not innocent, but everything else. What a good kid.

You know, my heart was, and still is, hers. I can scarcely think of her without crying. She was all at once everyone's child, everyone's beloved and precious daughter. She was mine, and I wept so many tears over her. The day she was found, I screamed and cried - "SHE'S HOME!!!" into the phone to Darrin, as if she had been our daughter. At that moment, she might have been. She might as well have been. She was everyone's dreams and hopes and belief for the children of our world. She was the fair-haired child in all our hearts - gone, gone, gone . . . and then suddenly, impossibly - HOME! How could it be?

And now, she is beautiful, and perfect and whole. She is a woman now. She is going on a mission. She is faithful and sweet and wants to serve the Lord. God bless her, and may he cradle her in his arms forever.

For my love - A little fall of rain . . .

2009-09-14T12:30:00.000-07:00

Soooo . . . funny thing, no music in this blog. I really tried hard to find the right clip to post here, and I actually found it, but it didn't allow embedding. Here's the link. It's from a Norwegian production of Les Miserables, and although the dialogue is in Norwegian and you can't understand it, you get the gist. It's actually the most lovely rendition of this piece I think I've ever seen - perhaps not musically speaking. I think Norwegian isn't necessarily the most beautiful language I've ever heard sung and neither of the singers are extraordinary in their own right, but they both are very good actors. The guy playing Marius, in particular, is so sweet. The way he so tenderly kisses and caresses Eponine is so loving and moving, it literally made me cry to watch it.

So, Darrin, this one is for you today. I hope you'll click on the link and watch it. You know I love you. We've certainly had our fall of rain, haven't we? I think it must be about time for us to watch the flowers grow, my sweet. Let's hold hands and stick together, and see if some rainbows don't crop up around us, shall we? I'm positive there must be some lovely meadows full of flowers just over that next hill. I can almost smell them, can't you?

You are My Sunshine

2009-09-13T13:17:00.000-07:00

For my sunshines - Tori, Leah, and Jared -

You guys make my gray skies sunny again.

A post-9/11 post

2009-09-13T11:50:00.000-07:00

I know I didn't post on 9/11. I'm sorry. I couldn't. You see, 8 years later, I still can't.

I know we all remember. I know we all recall exactly where we were when we found out, where we were when IT happened. But I still haven't let go.

You see, my sweet, broken hearted brother had just committed suicide a month before. I was still reeling from losing him. I had a hole in my heart the size of Texas, or at least, you could say that it was big enough to fly three or four large commercial jets through. And then the worst horror of my life occurred on that beautiful, clear morning on the eleventh of September, 2001. I was lost.

I remember that I had been out for a walk with my friend Melinda. How clever we felt to be out getting fit. The sky was as blue as it could possibly have been. It was early, and I had left Darrin in the shower and the kids sleeping. I would be quick, and back before he left for work, and then I would get Tori ready for school. I said goodbye to Melinda at the corner, and skipped up the stairs and into the house, to find Darrin standing in front of the tv. The first plane had hit. I ran to the door and called Melinda back. She came running in. We quickly agreed it had to be an accident. She left, and ran home to her family. Darrin had to go to work. Goodbye. I love you.

Then the second plane hit. I fell to the floor right there in the living room, in front of the tv. I stiffled a scream. The babies, MY babies were sleeping. I wept in silence. I called Darrin on his cell phone when I thought he would have driven far enough to have reception. He had heard on the radio. There was no way it was an accident, we agreed. We prayed together. The kids were waking up. What should I do? I turned on their shows in the living room, and turned on the tv in my room. Of course it would be the news on almost every channel. Thank goodness for Disney. The kids could be safe while I watched in silent horror.

Everything moved in such slow motion, and yet everything happened at once. I still don't understand how it happened. I was holding the phone to my face, the door to our bedroom was closed, while I spoke quietly and rapidly to Darrin. I watched the tv, giving him minute-by-minute commentary of what the tv people were saying. And then it happened. I couldn't comprehend it. I couldn't voice it. What was happening??? And then I was screaming, and I was on the floor again . . . "It's falling!!! It's falling!!! One of the buildings is just falling! NOOOOOO!!!! It's just gone! There's nothing left! It's just gone!!! Where did it gooooo???? NOOOOOOO!!! All those people!!! . . ." And Darrin was asking over and over again "What? What are you saying??? What's happening?????" And all I could do was sob in answer.

Finally I calmed down enough to speak through my sobs. I explained what I could. He heard the rest on the radio. Finally we hung up. It was unimaginable. Nothing like this could happen on American soil. We were safe! We were strong! We demanded respect from the world! Who would dare do this to us? My mind was reeling. And still I watched. The news media was wild with all the questions my mind could imagine.

And then the unimaginable happened again. This time I was sitting when it happened, and I jumped to my feet, already dialing Darrin. Before he could speak, I was screaming into the phone again. "It's happening again. The other tower is falling! It's just like before! . . ." And then the news of the Pentagon, and then the news of the other plane . . . Darrin came home. What else was there? The roads were empty, he said. Everyone was home.

The skies were empty. They were empty for days. I remember the first plane that flew over our home. I cringed, and then I cried.

When George Bush declared a day of rememberance, the Friday following 9/11, I organized a candlelight vigil in our town. The idea came to me just on a whim. I put the word out on the internet, I made phone calls, I ran to neighbors and had them make phone calls. I didn't know if anyone would come, but I told everyone to come and bring candles, and come prepared to say something if they wanted to. I wanted them to just come. We needed to be together, to be ONE, to cry together, to hug, to heal a little if we could, to feel the safety of togetherness. I needed it, so I knew others would too. So I just said "COME!", and I waited to see if they would. We met at twilight, at the firestation, around the flagpole. The flag was at half mast. As my little family and I stood together there, what I saw was amazing and wonderful. It was just like the scene at the end of Field of Dreams - cars streaming down Eagle Mountain Blvd. toward the firestation. You could see their headlights coming and coming in the distance. I just cried again (I was doing a lot of that.) It was dark by the time we were all assembled. Someone had thought to bring a microphone, thankfully, because so many had come. I thanked everyone for coming out. We sang a patriotic song, and then people who wanted to make remarks did so. Some were simple, some were just so profound I'll never forget them. We sang our national anthem - so loud and so proud! It was the most beautiful and moving thing I've ever been a part of! And then we started with one little flame, and passed the flame throughout the crowd of hundreds until every candle was lit, and had a moment of silence for our brothers and sisters who had fallen in terror and in service, and for those who were mourning their loss.

I weep for them still.

I will never, ever forget.

Her Diamonds

2009-09-02T17:35:00.000-07:00

This is seriously just the sweetest song. It's by Rob Thomas, who wrote it for his wife, who suffers terribly from fibromyalgia. He talks about how frustrated he is that he can't do anything for her pain.

Darrin goes through this every night with me. I have such terrible fibromyalgia. It cripples me. I try everything I can to keep it at bay, but it just defeats me all the time, and all I can do is cry. I go to water aerobics four or five times a week, and work really hard so I can keep moving, but I still end up in bed half of the time. The pain is so unbearable. I try so hard to not take painkillers - nothing like ibuprofen or tylenol works, it has to be Lortab, and then it just takes my mind away. I lose so much memory, so much time with my sweetheart and my beautiful kids. All I want is for the pain to go, so I can just life my life, freely and without this pain.

But it's ok. If this is what I have to live with; if this is what it takes for me to get the moments of joy I get with Darrin and the kids, I'll take it. The joy outweighs the pain. It's all worth it.

Oh what the hell she says
I just can't win for losing
And she lays back down
Man there's so many times
I don't know what Im doin'
Like I don't know now

By the light of the moon
She rubs her eyes
Says it's funny how the night
Can make you blind
I can just imagine
And I don't know what Im supposed to do
But if she feels bad then I do too
So I let her be

And she says oooh
I can't take no more
Her tears like diamonds on the floor
And her diamonds bring me down
Cuz I can't help her now
Shes down in it
She tried her best and now she can't win it's
Hard to see them on the ground
Her diamonds falling down

She sits down and stares into the distance
And it takes all night
And I know I could break her concentration
But it don't feel right

By the light of the moon
She rubs her eyes
Sits down on the bed and starts to cry
And there's something less about her
And I don't know what Im supposed to do
So I sit down and I cry too
And don't let her see

And she says oooh
I can't take no more
Her tears like diamonds on the floor
And her diamonds bring me down
Cuz I can't help her now
Shes down in it
She tried her best and now she can't win it's
Hard to see them on the ground
Her diamonds falling down

She shuts out the night
Tries to close her eyes
If she can find daylight
Shell be all right
Shell be all right
Just not tonight

And she says oooh
I can't take no more
Her tears like diamonds on the floor
And her diamonds bring me down
Cuz I can't help her now
Shes down in it
She tried her best and now she can't win it's
Hard to see them on the ground
Her diamonds falling down

How to Handle a Woman

2009-08-27T19:21:00.000-07:00

This is how my sweet Darrin handles me. He loves me so much. How can I ever, ever love him enough???

You really ought to hear Darrin sing this. It makes me cry. He and Richard have a thing going in sync.

How to handle a woman,
There’s a way said a wise old man,
A way know by every woman,
Since the whole rigmarole began!

Do I flatter her, I begged him answer,
Do I threaten or cajole or plea,
Do I brood or play the gay romancer?
Said he, smiling, "no, indeed!"

"How to handle a woman,
Mark me well, I will tell you sir!
The way to handle a woman,
Is to love her, simply love her,
Merely love her, love her,
Love her!"

How do you solve a problem like . . .

2009-08-27T18:29:00.000-07:00

I've always loved this song. I guess I identify with it. Or, rather, I identify with Maria. I would rather be off singing in the hills, enjoying life than stressing over everyday life. I have my own way of doing things. It annoys people. I don't color within other people's lines, and that drives regimented people crazy.

Take me as I am, or just don't worry about it. That's what I say. It isn't worth the stress to either of us for people to try to change me! We'll all be happier that way.

I'm going to try to make happier blogs now. I'm tired of being gloomy.

She climbs a tree and scrapes her knee
Her dress has got a tear
She waltzes on her way to Mass
And whistles on the stair
And underneath her wimple
She has curlers in her hair
I even heard her singing in the abbey
She's always late for chapel
But her penitence is real
She's always late for everything
Except for every meal
I hate to have to say it
But I very firmly feel
Maria's not an asset to the abbey

I'd like to say a word in her behalf
Maria makes me laugh

How do you solve a problem like Maria?
How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?
How do you find a word that means Maria?
A flibbertijibbet! A will-o'-the wisp! A clown!

Many a thing you know you'd like to tell her
Many a thing she ought to understand
But how do you make her stay
And listen to all you say
How do you keep a wave upon the sand

Oh, how do you solve a problem like Maria?
How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?

When I'm with her I'm confused
Out of focus and bemused
And I never know exactly where I am
Unpredictable as weather
She's as flighty as a feather
She's a darling! She's a demon! She's a lamb!

She'd outpester any pest
Drive a hornet from its nest
She could throw a whirling dervish out of whirl
She is gentle! She is wild!
She's a riddle! She's a child!
She's a headache! She's an angel!
She's a girl!

How do you solve a problem like Maria?
How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?
How do you find a word that means Maria?
A flibbertijibbet! A will-o'-the wisp! A clown!

Many a thing you know you'd like to tell her
Many a thing she ought to understand
But how do you make her stay
And listen to all you say
How do you keep a wave upon the sand

Oh, how do you solve a problem like Maria?
How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?

Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head

2009-08-25T11:16:00.000-07:00

This is such a fun song. I remember singing it when I was a kid. It's a childhood memory. I have so few of them, I really treasure it.

So, I'm having some new health problems. I just have to let these things not worry me. They come to me so often. I get major health issues like other people get a cold or the flu. I don't really understand why, but it has always been so for me. I can either be frustrated and distraught about it, or I can just accept it for what it is, another hurdle in my road, and move on. Hurdles come and hurdles go. I've passed them by before. I've had over 20 surgeries in my life. It looks like I'm coming up on a couple more in the near future. ///Sigh///

Nothing's worrying me . . .

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head
And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed
Nothin' seems to fit
Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'

So I just did me some talkin' to the sun
And I said I didn't like the way he got things done
Sleepin' on the job
Those raindrops are fallin' on my head they keep fallin'

But there's one thing I know
The blues he sends to meet me won't defeat me
It wont be long til happiness steps up to greet me

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head
But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turnin' red
Cryin's not for me
Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'
Because I'm free
Nothings worrying me.

Goodbye Tammy Marx. I will miss you.

2009-08-17T10:56:00.000-07:00

My friend died in the past week. She lived a difficult life, filled with pain and physical struggle. She fought an inspirational fight. She fought alone. Her family did not understand her, and tried to make her decisions for her as if she were mentally incapacitated. She had a brilliant mind, and was frustrated most of her life by their inability to see her intelligence and ability to manage her life with skill and adeptness.

Today is her funeral. I will lay one large, red rose beside her in her casket. This is difficult for me to do, because I do not go to viewings. I don't like to look in on dead people. But I want to give one last thing to Tammy, because I want to give her a lovely red rose, to symbolize the vivacious and passionate life I know she would have lived if she had been given the opportunity. Instead, she lived her life bound to a wheelchair, obligated to those whose whims controlled her.

So, this is for you, dear Tammy. I will miss you more than you would have ever known. I will look for you in sunsets and in rainbows, and I will see you in all things free and beautiful.

Pray God you can cope.
I stand outside this woman's work,
This woman's world.
Ooh, it's hard on the man,
Now his part is over.
Now starts the craft of the father.

I know you have a little life in you yet.
I know you have a lot of strength left.
I know you have a little life in you yet.
I know you have a lot of strength left.

I should be crying, but I just can't let it show.
I should be hoping, but I can't stop thinking

Of all the things I should've said,
That I never said.
All the things we should've done,
That we never did.
All the things I should've given,
But I didn't.

Oh, darling, make it go,
Make it go away.

Give me these moments back.
Give them back to me.
Give me that little kiss.
Give me your hand.

(I know you have a little life in you yet.
I know you have a lot of strength left.
I know you have a little life in you yet.
I know you have a lot of strength left.)

I should be crying, but I just can't let it show.
I should be hoping, but I can't stop thinking

Of all the things we should've said,
That were never said.
All the things we should've done,
That we never did.
All the things that you needed from me.
All the things that you wanted for me.
All the things that I should've given,
But I didn't.

Oh, darling, make it go away.
Just make it go away now.

It's Not Easy Being Green, and other ramblings

2009-08-15T18:19:00.000-07:00

This is a funny kind of song. It has always made me melancholy. It's from a muppet, for pete's sake! Why does it make me so melancholy??? But it does, and it does the same for Darrin, too. He said the first time he saw it on Sesame Street, he was probably 4 or 5, and it totally turned him off the show. Funny. That's all. So, I'm feeling kind of melancholy, so it suits my mood.

I keep thinking about the family I grew up, or didn't grow up, in. I really think I didn't truly grow up until I got away from them. I didn't learn to stand up for myself, I didn't learn to be myself, I didn't learn to like myself until I got away from them. I like who I am now. For the first time in my life I like myself. I've stopped hating myself and I've stopped trying to make people like me. I've stopped trying to be something I'm not. I spent my whole life running around trying to be someone I wasn't, trying to be a person that people would approve of. Now I just try to be myself. Some people just don't approve. I'm learning to live with that. It's not easy being green - you know the rest.

I tried to kill myself twice last month. Terrible thing to do to my husband and kids. I can't believe I was that out of my mind. How off my rocker was I? I look back and just can't imagine it. It makes me cry for them. How did they get through it? What was I thinking? I was just out of my mind, that's all. I can't even wrap my mind around it now. But I still have sad thoughts even now. Mostly those sad thoughts revolve around the abandonment that comes from the family of my birth. I think about my oldest brother who raped me. I think about my next oldest brother who I dedicated so much time and love to, only to have him betray me so horribly. I think about my other brother who committed suicide and I understand why. I think about my one sister who left the family like I have and for the same reasons. I think of other siblings and I know we just have the most dysfunctional family. My parents just refuse to face the issues surrounding the dysfunction, and they turn a blind eye to it all. Consequently, their family is crumbling around them. That all became so heavy to me last month.

My memory of my childhood incest came to me not too long ago, my parents abandoned me, and the rest of the family followed suit. Then someone I had considered a good friend completely flipped out on me and turned out to be someone I didn't know she was. Then, on top of it all, my bishop showed his true colors and made evident the fact that he did not like me at all. He screamed in my face and told me to "GET OUT OF MY CHURCH" (his exact words). I didn't go to church for a month, and felt utterly betrayed and abandoned. I plummeted into the deepest, darkest depression I have ever been in, and felt no hope of ever surfacing for air. I tried twice within a week to kill myself. Both times I overdosed, first with painkillers (Darrin discovered me and called the ambulance. The local hospital narrowly saved me.), and then with sleeping pills (This time I changed my mind when I could feel myself dying, and Darrin took me to the hospital).

Now, I am dealing with the ramifications of my actions. I am racked with guilt for what I have heaped upon my children, the weight of what they know. They know about my mental illness, the big secret is out. Mommy is very sick. But they also understand. J tells me "I don't like it when you're sad, mom.", when he sees me cry. That breaks my heart. I'm trying so hard to not be sad. But how do I erase the lifetime of sadness I've lived? I lived for 30 years pretending I was not brutally raped by my brother, and I created sorrow upon sorrow for many of those years, in my attempt to cover up my pain. On top of that, I have physical scars from my brother's abuse. My little body was battered, and I have pain in places and in ways that just should not be. Every ache and every pain reminds me daily of the torment I endured at his hands. And so the torment continues. I must find a way to end it without ending myself. I must find a way to be content with my life, to end the torture that my mind perpetuates and be happy within myself, despite the pain that has been thrust upon me. This is no small challenge.

I must find a way to rise to the challenge.

It's not that easy being green
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves
When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow, or gold
Or something much more colorful like that

It's not easy being green
It seems you blend in with so many other ordinary things
And people tend to pass you over
'Cause you're not standing out
Like flashy sparkles in the water
Or stars in the sky

But green's the color of spring
And green can be cool and friendly-like
And green can be big like an ocean
Or important like a mountain
Or tall like a tree

When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why
But why wonder why wonder
I am green, and it'll do fine
It's beautiful, and I think it's what I want to be

Mr. Lonely

2009-08-05T11:13:00.000-07:00

Stupid Bobby Vinton.

The Boxer

2009-08-05T07:11:00.000-07:00

I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocketful of mumbles
Such are promises
All lies and jests
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest

When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station
Running scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know

Lie la lie...

Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there

Lie la lie...

Then I'm laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone
Going home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me,
Leading me, going home.

In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains

Lie la lie...

New Hymn

2009-07-31T18:09:00.000-07:00

I'm trying so hard to sing a new hymn. It is very, very hard. I have some ups and some downs. The downs are, unfortunately, very low - very, very low. I'm hanging on to what I can - threads, at times. The darkness can be so dark, and the pit so very deep, it is hard to come up for air. When something drags me down it is very hard to recover. I wish I had a great support network. I have Darrin and my therapist, and that's really it. I miss my family, but all they wanted to do was tell me to stop talking about things, to bury them deep. How does an infection heal when you just cover it up and let it fester inside you?

I'm lonely.

Source of all we hope or dread
Sheepdog, jackal, rattler, swan
We hunt your face and long to trust
That your hid mouth will say again
Let there be light
A clear new day

But when we thirst in this dry night
We drink from hot wells poisoned with the blood of children
And when we strain to hear a steady homing beam
Our ears are balked by stifled moans
And howls of desolation from the throats of sisters, brothers, wild men
Clawing at the gates for bread

Even our own feeble hands
Ache to seize the crown you wear
And work our private havoc through
The known and unknown lands of space

Absolute in flame beyond us
Seed and source of Dark and Day
Maker whom we beg to be
Our mother father comrade mate

'Til our few atoms blow to dust
Or form again in wiser lives
Or find your face and hear our name
In your calm voice the end of night
If dark may end
Wellspring goal of Dark and Day

Be here
Be now

What Would You Say to Cancer?

2009-07-30T11:45:00.000-07:00

59th Street Bridge Song

2009-07-28T11:32:00.000-07:00

Don'tcha just love Simon and Garfunkel?

For JWB on his 9th birthday - my baby boy

2009-07-26T21:35:00.000-07:00

This morning, because I had mistakenly told him he was born around 7am, my little one came bounding in and jumped in bed between Darrin and me. "I'm late guys! Sorry! I slept a little late!" he said with sleep still in his beautiful newly 9-year-old boy voice. LATE??? What was he thinking?????? This kid has an agenda, you've got to know. He has plans. You may never know what his plans are, but you must always know there IS a plan, and you must always be aware that you will become aware of the plan at some point!

Evidently, the plan was that he would come in and be with us at the exact moment of the anniversary of his appointed arrival into this world. He seems to have made a plan to celebrate his exact moment of birth by snuggling in our bed with his mom and dad. What a kid! I mean, seriously, WHAT A KID!!! I could only be slightly annoyed at being woken from my cozy slumber. After all, it was his birthday, and his exuberance and sweet innocence could never possibly be matched.

I dragged my sorry butt out of bed and pulled out his birth certificate. Turns out I had his exact time of birth mixed up with one of his sisters'. He was born at exactly 8:36am, MST. So we all snuggled back into bed, having not missed the precise moment of celebration, and discussed how he came out of his momma's tummy a la Superman - with one arm reaching out into the world in front of him, so he caused me undo agony as I had to deliver his shoulder at the same time as his head (he did say he was sorry!), and how I had no idea I could scream with such volume. We talked about how excited we were, and how excited his sisters were to meet him. We talked about everything, and then the moment came and went, and we hugged and kissed, and of course I cried.

My baby boy is 9 years old now, and I'll never get another. I treasure each and every moment I get with my 3 kids. They're amazing.

a little music for today - for my mom

2009-07-25T17:29:00.000-07:00

No imbedding allowed, so follow this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mj06SgTgWWs

And again on this one: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s_6uCovdy5M

Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

2009-07-24T15:10:00.000-07:00

I've been wanting so badly to recapture some of my childhood, since I have so very little memory of it. I remember almost nothing good from when I was a kid. I have a terrible fear that if I remember the good, I'll remember more bad. I think I'm willing to take the chance, though. I'll take the bad, just to have a glimpse of the good. I want it so badly.

The Wind Beneath My Wings - For DSB My only love

2009-07-24T14:52:00.000-07:00

My sisters and I used to go watch this movie over and over at the dollar theater. We would just weep and weep. We would just bring a box of tissue and cry . . . now I don't have any sisters left.

Now I have my husband, and he is truly the wind beneath my wings. He is the reason I am here to write today, rather than moldering beneath the ground. He and my kids give my life reason and purpose. I wake up in the morning and get out of bed because I know I will be with them. They are the wind beneath my wings, my everything, my breathing out and breathing in.

It must have been cold there in my shadow,
to never have sunlight on your face.
You were content to let me shine, that's your way,
you always walked a step behind.

So I was the one with all the glory,
while you were the one with all the strength.
A beautiful face without a name -- for so long,
a beautiful smile to hide the pain.

Chorus
Did you ever know that you're my hero,
and ev'rything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle,
'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.

It might have appeared to go unnoticed,
but I've got it all here in my heart.
I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it,
I would be nothing with out you.

Chorus
Did you ever know that you're my hero,
and ev'rything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle,
'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.

Fly, fly, fly away,
you let me fly so high.
Oh, fly, fly,
so high against the sky, so high I almost touch the sky.
Thank you, thank you, thank God for you,
the wind beneath my wings.

The Secret O' Life

2009-07-23T20:10:00.000-07:00

I'm just so mellow and happy tonight, enjoying my sweet family. We had a walk over to the neighbors' house to water their garden while they're on vacation. It turned into a big water fight and everyone was drenched, of course. It made me so happy, and reminiscent of the time when we owned our own home and had a big yard and we were footloose and fancy free. Perspective is such a funny thing, really, because I didn't realize how great things were then, but looking back, I long for that time. I would grab hold of it and never let go if I could.

But here I am now, and the secret o' life is enjoying the passage of time . . .

Don't Cry for Me, Argentina

2009-07-20T11:00:00.000-07:00

It won't be easy.
You'll think it's strange
when I try to explain how I feel,
that I still need your love
after all that I've done.

You won't believe me.
All you will see
is a girl you once knew,
although she's dressed up to the nines,
it's sixes and sevens with you.

I had to let it happen.
I had to change.
Couldn't stay all my life down at heel,
Looking out of the window
staying out of the sun.

So I chose freedom -
running around, trying everything new,
but nothing impressed me at all.
I never expected it to.

Don't cry for me Argentina.
The truth is I never left you.
All through my wild days, my mad existence,
I kept my promise, don't keep your distance.

And as for fortune and as for fame,
I never invited them in.
Though it seemed to the world they were all I desired.
They are illusions,
they are not the solutions they promised to be.
The answer was here all the time.

I love you, and hope you love me.

Don't cry for me Argentina. . . .

Don't cry for me Argentina.
The truth is I never left you.
All through my wild days, my mad existence,
I kept my promise, don't keep your distance.

Have I said to much?
There's nothing more I can think of to say to you.

But all you have to do
is look at me to see that every word is true!

I am a barometer

2009-07-20T10:38:00.000-07:00

It is true. Due to the fact of my fibromyalgia, I can predict with a fair amount of accuracy, the barometric pressure. I woke up this morning knowing that we would have a storm today. Sure enough, the forecast is calling for thunder storms. Isn't that nice? No. But whatever. So in honor of this gift, today's song is "I am a . . ."

Candle in the Wind

2009-07-18T17:45:00.000-07:00

So, I've had a few really bad weeks. Bad with a capital B. Bad like Michael Jackson-type bad. Bad like Walter Cronkite bad. Bad like my brother raping me when I was little bad. Bad like my family abandoning me in my hour of greatest need bad. Bad like my bishop telling me "GET OUT OF MY CHURCH" bad (I know, it isn't his church, it's HIS church.)

I tried to kill myself. I downed half a bottle of this or that, and got in a really hot shower and waited for it to come. I was so calm and I felt really good. I just waited. What would come? I don't know what I expected, exactly, but it wasn't the ambulance and the police that my husband called up. They saved me. That was Tuesday.

Things kept getting worse.

By Saturday, although I had promised I wouldn't try again, I just couldn't see any reason stay, so I gulped down another half bottle of something else, and waited. This one was very different, and there were all these colored lights, and my breathing was scary. I knew I was dying, and I didn't want to hurt my kids, so I told Darrin and we went to the ER. All I could think of was what it would do to my kids. I just couldn't do that to them.

I love Tom so much, but he did that to his kids. He hurt them so bad. I couldn't do that to them. I've seen how it has hurt them, and I won't do that to my kids. I guess that's one good thing that came from his death. Funny, because I've been trying to kill myself since I was 13 years old, way before Tom ever did, but his death was what kept me from killing myself. My kids kept me here, when nothing else could. I could live for them, when I could live for nothing else.

My beautiful kids. I'll always live for them.

So I spent about a week in rehab, by my own choice. I met some really amazing people, and I am forever changed.

God forgive me, I've made mistakes. I'm human. But I won't continue to make those same mistakes and pretend I haven't made them. I'm honest with myself and with everyone else about my mistakes. I live on by the grace of God, and I know I am forgiven because of the great atonement of Jesus Christ. He has borne my burdens, and lifted my soul from the depths where I have not been able to recover it on my own.

This is the version of Candle in the Wind that Elton John sang for Princess Diana's funeral. It was so lovely. The lyrics are a little different, so I've placed them after the vid.

Goodbye England's rose
May you ever grow in our hearts
You were the grace that placed itself
Where lives were torn apart
You called out to our country
And you whispered to those in pain
Now you belong to heaven
And the stars spell out your name

And it seems to me you lived your life
Like a candle in the wind
Never fading with the sunset
When the rain set in
And your footsteps will always follow you
Along England's greenest hills
Your candle's burned out long before
Your legend never will

Loveliness we've lost
These empty days without your smile
This torch we'll always carry
For our nation's golden child
And even though we try
The truth brings us to tears
All our words cannot express
The joy you brought us through the years

And it seems to me you lived your life
Like a candle in the wind
Never fading with the sunset
When the rain set in
And your footsteps will always follow you
Along England's greenest hills
Your candle's burned out long before
Your legend never will

Goodbye England's rose
May you ever grow in our hearts
You were the grace that placed itself
Where lives were torn apart
Goodbye England's rose
From a country lost without your soul
Who'll miss the wings of your compassion
More than you'll ever know

And it seems to me you lived your life
Like a candle in the wind
Never fading with the sunset
When the rain set in
And you footsteps will always follow you
Along England's greenest hills
Your candle's burned out long before
Your legend never will

For my Cairo, who is hurting so badly

2009-07-01T20:07:00.000-07:00

This is our Cairo, our beautiful greyhound, who we adopted and rescued from a racetrack in Colorado a little over 2 years ago. She is an absolute angel, and still a puppy in many ways, although she is nearly 7 years old. Yesterday, she began to suffer from horrible bouts of paralysis, yelping and crying out in pain whenever she would try to move. We took her to the ignorant veterinarian in Price, and he charged us $65 for watching her walk down the sidewalk and shoving a pill for parasites down her throat.

Today, she was much worse. We took her to a veterinarian in Salt Lake that we knew understood greyhounds. Greys have very special anatomy, with larger hearts and lungs, and even different blood composition. Most vets don't know a thing about greys. The doc we took her to today knew his stuff. He took blood to check for tick-borne diseases, sedated her to get comprehensive x-rays, and $750 later, we found out that our sweet baby girl has horrible degenerative disc disease down her entire spine, and horrible degenerative lung disease. All of this comes from abuse at the track during her racing days.

Please watch the following video. Never go to a dog racing track, or bet on a race. If you do, you are torturing and killing innocent animals like my sweet and innocent Cairo.

Crazy Love

2009-06-27T12:55:00.000-07:00

Darrin is home from a week-long conference.

I can hear her heart beat for a thousand miles
And the heavens open every time she smiles
And when I come to her thats where I belong
Yet Im running to her like a rivers song

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love
She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love

Shes got a fine sense of humor when Im feeling low down
And when I come to her when the sun goes down
Take away my trouble, take away my grief
Take away my heartache, in the night like a thief

Yes I need her in the daytime
Yes I need her in the night
Yes I want to throw my arms around her
Kiss her hug her kiss her hug her tight

And when Im returning from so far away
She gives me some sweet lovin brighten up my day
Yes it makes me righteous, yes it makes me feel whole
Yes it makes me mellow down in to my soul

Woman in Chains

2009-06-22T18:39:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to heal. Most days are good. Some moments are not. Yesterday was lousy - father's day. My father's betrayal probably stings the deepest. I had trusted him. Isn't a daddy supposed to have a soft heart for his little girl? I'm supposed to be his baby. I was always robbed of that. I never had that security. The older siblings always had security. They'll never know. Not only was I abused by them, but I grew up in poverty, and had that insecurity. And then my parents turned their backs on me.

For too long, I was the woman in chains. Now, I have a loving man who has helped me to believe in myself, so I could free myself. I'm still so insecure. It is hard not to want to fly back to the security of the chains.

Crazy, I know.

You better love loving and you better behave
You better love loving and you better behave
Woman in chains
Woman in chains

Calls her man the great white hope
Says she's fine, she'll always cope
Woman in chains
Woman in chains

Well i feel lying and waiting is a poor man's deal
And i feel hopelessly weighed down by your eyes of steel
It's a world gone crazy
Keeps woman in chains

Trades her soul as skin and bones
Sells the only thing she owns
Woman in chains
Woman in chains

Men of stone
Men of stone

Well i feel deep in your heart there are wounds time can't heal
And i feel somebody somewhere is trying to breathe
Well you know what i mean
It's a world gone crazy
Keeps woman in chains

It's under my skin but out of my hands
I'll tear it apart but i won't understand
I will not accept the greatness of man

It's a world gone crazy
Keeps woman in chains

So free her
So free her

Hallelujah

2009-06-16T22:16:00.000-07:00

This is John Cale performing Leonard Cohen's song, Hallelujah. Cale sings an alternate last verse, and I really like the other ones, which are in the lyrics I've posted below.

Now I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this - the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah...

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Hallelujah...

Baby I have been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah...

There was a time you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show it to me, do you?
And remember when I moved in you
The holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah...

You say I took the name in vain
I don't even know the name
But if I did, well really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light in every word
It doesn't matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah...

I did my best, it wasn't much
I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Hallelujah...

Funeral for a Friend/Love Lies Bleeding or Farewell to My Family

2009-06-14T13:11:00.000-07:00

This is the end. I can no longer have a relationship with the family I was born into. I dedicate this song to them. This is my official memorial for the relationship I once dared to dream I had with them. It was always a farce, but I have always been a dreamer.

When I was very young, I wandered our wide expanse of acreage in the tall dry grass under the warm California sun like a wild child. I was carefree, and had no concern for any harm that might come to me until one day when my oldest brother, who is 21 years my elder, came upon me and savagely raped and sodomized me. I have no way of knowing how many times incidents like this occurred. I do know that he also forced me to pose for pornographic photos.

For 30 years I buried the pain, shame and sorrow of this secret. Through those years, my brother has made me the scapegoat of the family, the brunt of every joke, the fool. My entire family laughed along.

I rebelled. My teen years were wild and crazy, a mixture of drugs, alcohol and sex. My very existence lay bleeding before me. I took every risk. I climbed every rock without a rope, and stared every danger in the face. If death would have taken me, I would have welcomed it. I made my first attempt at suicide at the age of 13. No one answered my plea for help.

A few months ago I dared to tell the tale. There was really no surprise in the fact that my entire family has shunned me and called me a liar. My mom, who I do love so dearly, after she screamed at me and told me that I was a liar and a slut, has politely told me that I have my stories mixed up. My great brother, who has been put on a pedestal by my parents, could never have done anything like that to me, even though he has a criminal record as a sexual predator, and has been arrested numerous times for predatory sexual acts. Soon, he will meet God, and will pay for his crimes against others, and against me. I pity him, and I am working to forgive him. He is a sick, sick man - a pedophile, a lying, manipulative rapist, a disgusting piece of pond scum. I hold no regard for him, and will not mourn him when he goes to meet his maker.

Today, I spoke with my mom. I had thought that she was beginning to believe me. She was lying. It was all a farce. I won't try anymore. She won't accept the truth, and so she won't accept me. She keeps telling me she just wants me to stop talking about it. She was married at age 16, and was raised by an abusive mother. At nearly 80 years of age, she is still talking about the things her mother did to her, and yet she expects me to stop talking about the brutal rape and sodomy I received at the hand of my own brother in my tender young years. I WILL NEVER STOP! NOT UNTIL THE DAY HE DIES! THE WORLD IS NOT SAFE UNTIL MEN LIKE HIM ARE ALL GONE!

I am finished being revictimized by my family. I was raped by my brother, and am raped over and over again by my family every time they tell me I am a liar, or tell me I should be quiet about it. I will never be quiet about it again! I am done! I no longer claim any connection with the family I was born into. That was a sad, sad twist of fate or a bad choice on my part before I came to mortality. It has brought me nothing but sorrow and shame.

My life begins anew today.

From this moment, Ruth Ellen Cobabe is dead. She is no more. She was murdered, stoned to death, by the family she was born into.

Ruth Brandt, wife and mother of 3 beautiful children lives on.

The roses in the window box
Have tilted to one side
Everything about this house
Was born to grow and die

Oh it doesn't seem a year ago
To this very day
You said I'm sorry honey
If I don't change the pace
I can't face another day

And love lies bleeding in my hand
Oh it kills me to think of you with another man
I was playing rock and roll and you were just a fan
But my guitar couldn't hold you
So I split the band
Love lies bleeding in my hands

I wonder if those changes
Have left a scar on you
Like all the burning hoops of fire
That you and I passed through

You're a bluebird on a telegraph line
I hope you're happy now
Well if the wind of change comes down your way girl
You'll make it back somehow

Possessed by Love

2009-06-13T16:44:00.000-07:00

Yesterday

2009-06-13T12:26:00.000-07:00

David Carradine - In Memoriam

2009-06-04T10:17:00.000-07:00

David Carradine has died. He was found hanging in his hotel room in Bangkok. This gives me more grief than I can begin to say, for a few different reasons. First, this is the method my brother chose to commit suicide. Second, I actually have a really sweet memory from my childhood of the show Kung Fu. I watched it faithfully, never missing an episode. I have always loved the ideals of fairness and defense of right that the show portrayed. Those ideals are so desperately wanting in this world we live in. Somehow, losing the actor who portrayed the character I loved just makes me ache. I always have loved David Carradine. As a person, I know he was flawed, but he seemed to have at least tried to live like that character he had portrayed - to be good and peaceful and fair. I liked him as a person. He was not like all those Hollywood plastic figures that you see today. He was real. What you saw was what you got, for better or worse. I liked that.

So, as a farewell, I'm posting his Kung Fu series premiere. YouTube only allows 10 minute segments, so it comes in 8 segments. My apologies, but if you're patient, you'll be rewarded with a gem from the past. I think it will be worth your wait. Try buffering them all at the same time on pause, and then you'll be able to watch them all in a row, without interruption.

Farewell Mr. Carradine, Kwai Chang Caine. I hope you find the peace you have sought, that peace which has eluded you. Go with God.

Afternoon Nap

2009-06-02T19:21:00.000-07:00

Spindle-legged doggie
curled up between us
as we make our attempt
at an afternoon nap.

Comic relief.

Neighborhood din
wafting in through the window –
traffic sounds, neighborhood kids
random cursing.

I give up!

Doggie twitches, smacking lips
as I rise from the attempt,
leaving you sleeping with the dog
in our cozy, warm bed.

Eternal beloved.

Into the West

2009-06-02T18:46:00.000-07:00

This is in ASL. You cannot hear the music, only feel it. It is so beautiful, so moving, it made me cry. I wanted to share it with you. The written words to the music are below. If you go to YouTube, and find the video, please read what the signer has written. Her message is so sweet, one of healing and love, and it will make you feel as I did, I have no doubt.

Lay down,
your sweet and weary head.
Night is falling.
You have come to journey’s end.

Sleep now, and dream
of the ones who came before.
They are calling,
from across a distant shore.

Why do you weep?
What are these tears upon your face?
Soon you will see.
All of your fears will pass away.
Safe in my arms,
you’re only sleeping.

What can you see,
on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea,
a pale moon rises.
The ships have come,
to carry you home.

And all will turn,
to silver glass.
A light on the water.
All souls pass.

Hope fades,
Into the world of night.
Through shadows falling,
Out of memory and time.

Don’t say,
We have come now to the end.
White shores are calling.
You and I will meet again.
And you’ll be here in my arms,
Just sleeping.

What can you see,
on the horizon?
Why do the white gulls call?
Across the sea,
a pale moon rises.
The ships have come,
to carry you home.

And all will turn,
to silver glass.
A light on the water.
Grey ships pass
Into the West.

In Repair

2009-05-30T13:13:00.000-07:00

I'm in repair.

For the most part, I have no memory of my childhood, until Jr. High. The memories I've had of my childhood prior to that have not been pleasant, with rare exception. I did have a memory of my mom, singing lullabies to me, holding me, consoling me. That has always been dear to me, because it has been one of my only sweet memories from childhood.

I had a memory today. It was nice. When I was a kid, they invented icees, or what we now call slurpies, because 7-11 capitalized on it too. KMart set up a little snack stand in the front of the store, and you could get popcorn and icees there. Sometimes my mom would treat me to an icee and popcorn. I remembered that today. It made me feel happy. I also remembered a funny thing about KMart, that they used to have a full-on cafeteria in the back of the store, something more like a sit-down diner. I remember my mom taking me there once or twice. These memories came to me today. It made me cry.

You can't imagine how starved I've been for fond memories. Living a life with only bitter memories has made me such an angry person, full of rage. I've masked it all so nicely with my humor, and being rebellious. My family treated me as the black sheep and I was the scapegoat, which only created more bad memories. It all stemmed, essentially, from the horrible, dirty secret of incest, that I kept for 30 years. My oldest brother brutally molested me, raped me, and then proceeded to torment me for the rest of my life, always mocking me and manipulating me. Recently I told. No more secrets. No more rage. No more lies. The truth is what it is.

The memory of what he did to me lay buried in me for years and years, and then crawled out of the recesses of my mind and revealed itself to me, to my utter horror, and eventually, to my relief. So much is explained, and I am finding peace. Interestingly, as I find peace, I am surprised to find good memories, like the icees at KMart with my mom. They seem to be freed up as the ugliness leaves me, as if a layer of bad is swept away, uncovering a layer of good. I have hopes that one day I will have a memory of the good in my childhood.

My brother has robbed me of so much for so long, but I am taking my life back. He has no more control over me. He is a selfish bastard with no concern for anyone but himself. I do not wish him anything but the harvest he has sewn. And I pity him for that, but I'm afraid that is what we all earn in the end.

As for me, I'm in repair.

Too many shadows in my room
Too many hours in this midnight
Too many corners in my mind
So much to do to set my heart right
Oh it's taking so long i could be wrong, i could be ready
Oh but if i take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
I am in repair, i am in repair

Stood on the corner for a while
To wait for the wind to blow down on me
Hoping it takes with it my old ways
And brings some brand new look upon me
Oh it's taking so long i could be wrong, i could be ready
Oh but if i take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
I am in repair, i am in repair

And now i'm walking in a park
All of the birds they dance below me
Maybe when things turn green again
It will be good to say you know me

Oh it's taking so long i could be wrong, i could be ready
Oh but if i take my heart's advice
I should assume it's still unsteady
Oh i'm never really ready, i'm never really ready
I'm in repair, i'm not together but i'm getting there
I'm in repair, i'm not together but i'm getting there

Penelope's Song

2009-05-28T18:44:00.000-07:00

Now that the time has come
Soon gone is the day
There upon some distant shore
You'll hear me say

Long as the day in the summer time
Deep as the wine-dark sea
I'll keep your heart with mine
Till you come to me

There like a bird I'd fly
High through the air
Reaching for the sun's full rays
Only to find you there

And in the night when our dreams are still
Or when the wind calls free
I'll keep your heart with mine
Till you come to me

Now that the time has come
Soon gone is the day
There upon some distant shore
You'll hear me say

Long as the day in the summer time
Deep as the wine-dark sea
I'll keep your heart with mine.
Till you come to me

Loreena McKennitt's commentary on the song:

"Penelope's Song" is a piece of music that I wrote inspired from a few different travels and experiences. Certainly the one that comes to mind was a week that I spent in May of 2005 on the Greek island of Chios, which is not far actually from the Turkish mainland. And I stayed in this beautiful bed and breakfast in this compound. There was an orange orchard in my -- my residence was actually like a garden hut at the far end of this orange orchard. And because it was May, all the orange blossoms were out -- I'd walk through this stunning environment and smell this gorgeous aroma of these orange blossoms. And during that week I listened to an audio recording of Homer's Odyssey which one certainly could consider as one of the most significant travel narratives of history. And it got me thinking about, once again, this business of travelling, this business of journeying and the experiences that one encounters when one is travelling but also the fact that in many circumstances over the course of human history, yes, there have been people who have left and there have also been people who've been left behind. And I wanted to create a song from the perspective of the individual or individuals that were left behind. And it is a story that certainly is universal in its theme, that when I think of some of Irish history and the time during the famine, and there were people that emigrated to, let's say, Canada or the United States on these horrible coffin ships. And that there were families that were also left behind and their loved ones would be heading over to the New World. And you can't help but think of those, there have been people who have left their loved ones for all kinds of circumstances. And the pain of seeing them go off and not knowing if they'll ever return. So I wanted to create a song that captured some essence of that sentiment, of waiting for your loved ones to return. And "Penelope's Song" was a gesture towards this.

Stop this Train

2009-05-27T21:17:00.000-07:00

This song makes me giggle for some reason, maybe a little hysteria. Maybe a little too familiar. Who can say?

The Heart of Life

2009-05-27T21:05:00.000-07:00

First saw this on an airplane, cruising the friendly skies with my beloved. We held hands and smiled at one another. Good memories. Man, I love my husband. I just fall in love with him all over again every day, deeper and deeper. What could be better?

Shower the People

2009-05-27T00:11:00.000-07:00

One of the sexiest men alive (other than Darrin, of course) singing one of the world's sweetest tunes. Amaaaaazing backups, I'm telling you! Darrin and I saw this performed just like this in 1992, our first date. I'm just loving my friends today . . .

Poems, Prayers and Promises - For old friends made new

2009-05-27T00:06:00.000-07:00

I Will Remember You

2009-05-25T22:42:00.000-07:00

In the Arms of an Angel - for Memorial Day

2009-05-25T22:33:00.001-07:00

Song For Sienna

2009-05-25T21:39:00.000-07:00

Well, I was looking for some lovely music to post with some sentiment I'm feeling right now, lovely music for lovely sentiment. I'm just thinking of my sweet family, and how deeply blessed I am. My children are amazing, just truly amazing. They are sweet and caring and are so influential in my life. They cause me to be a better person every day by their unassuming and Christlike examples. They are goodness embodied. And then, of course, there is my dearest Darrin, without whom I would not be the woman I am. He makes me strong, and sensitive and all that I am at once, without ever saying a word. I love my family. I live for them, and my life is what it is because of them. 20 years ago I could never have imagined the richness that fills my life. In all my dreams I could never have hoped for such joy. Surely I must be the most charmed and blessed person ever.

Clair de lune

2009-05-25T11:58:00.000-07:00

I find this one of the most sensual pieces of music ever written. It is so sweet and seductive and beautiful, like the first and last kiss with your true love, the love of your life. Play this at my funeral, for me, please (not that I'm going anywhere, anytime soon.)

Little Bird

2009-05-23T19:55:00.000-07:00

Annie Lennox - she's timeless, isn't she? I've loved her since I was my kids' ages! She's amazing and as beautiful as ever. Here's a more recent song that moves me the way she did when I was a kid:

I look up to the little bird
That glides across the sky
He sings the clearest melody
It makes me want to cry
It makes me want to sit right down
and cry cry cry, yeah.

I walk along the city streets
So dark with rage and fear
And I...
I wish that I could be that bird
And fly away from here
I wish I had the wings to fly away from here, yeah.

But Mamma I feel so low
Mamma where do I go?
Mamma what do I know?
Mamma we reap what we sow

They always said that you knew best
But this little bird's fallen out of that nest now
I've got a feeling that it might have been blessed
So I've just got to put these wings to test

For I am just a troubled soul
Who's weighted, weighted to the ground
Give me the strength to carry on
Till I can lay my burden down

Give me the strength to lay this burden down
down down yeah
Give me the strength to lay it down
Lay it down, Lay it down.

But Mamma I feel so low
Mamma where do I go?
Mamma what do I know?
Mamma we reap what we sow.

They always said that you knew best
But this little bird's fallen out of that nest now
I've got a feeling that it might have been blessed
So I've just got to put these wings to test

I feel so low
Mamma where do I go?
Mamma what do I know?
Mamma we reap what we sow.

Let tell you one more time...

The Highwayman

2009-05-21T16:17:00.001-07:00

Alfred Noyes (1880-1958)

The Highwayman

PART ONE

I

THE wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

II

He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

III

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

IV

And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—

V

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

VI

He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonliglt, and galloped away to the West.

PART TWO

I

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
Marching—marching—
King George's men came matching, up to the old inn-door.

II

They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

III

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say—
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

IV

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

V

The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain .

VI

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still!

VII

Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.

VIII

He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

IX

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

* * * * * *

X

And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
Riding—riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

XI

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard;
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Bridge Over Troubled Water - For my friends

2009-05-20T23:43:00.000-07:00

Dawn

2009-05-18T22:30:00.001-07:00

Daughters

2009-05-14T18:12:00.000-07:00

I'm a survivor of incest. My oldest brother raped me. This song makes me so sad, but it also makes me happy, because someone out there cares. I come from a large family, and many in my family have pretty much just dumped me, once I revealed the ugly truth. Nobody wants to admit that kind of ugliness exists so close to home, right? I get it. But my own parents have the hardest time, and have called me a liar. I'm not a liar. I'm sad and lonely, and I miss my family, but I'm not a liar.

This is a good song.

For anyone out there who is hurting and lonely, for those of you who want to cry when you listen to this song - you have a friend in me. You aren't alone. Be strong. You're a survivor. That says so much about you. Stand tall and be proud of who you are. I love you.

Darrin's Song

2009-05-14T17:58:00.001-07:00

He's Home!!!

2009-05-14T15:45:00.001-07:00

Darrin is home today!

Nothing could be better!

I can't even think of any music good enough to suit the moment.

I'll get something up a little later.

When Tomorrow Comes

2009-05-13T22:20:00.000-07:00

Hopefully, tomorrow will be the day for Darrin to come home!

Underneath your dreamlit eyes
Shades of sleep have driven you away.
The moon is pale outside
And you are far from here.
Breathing shifts your careless head
Untroubled by the chaos of our lives.
Another day - another night
Has taken you again my dear.

And you know that I'm gonna be the one
Who'll be there
When you need someone to depend upon
When tomorrow comes...
When tomorrow comes...

Wait till tomorrow comes - yea yea...
Wait till tomorrow comes - yea yea...

Last night while you were
Lying in my arms
And I was wondering where you were
You know you looked just like a baby
Fast asleep in this dangerous world.
Every star was shining brightly
Just like a million years before.
And we were feeling very small
Underneath the universe.

And you know that I'm gonna be the one
Who'll be there when you need
Someone to depend upon
When tomorrow comes...
When tomorrow comes...

I can't wait 'til tomorrow comes baby!

I wanna be with you
When tomorrow comes!

Two Cents

2009-05-13T21:57:00.000-07:00

It was late on the first evening at the second hospital. I had not eaten that day, and Darrin had not eaten much. He had not been able to eat any of the dinner they had brought him, due to nausea. I was not actually hungry, as much as my body was screaming out a need for some protein. I found my way to the only place open in Utah County on a Sunday night - the hospital cafe, not the full-scale cafeteria, just a little greasy spoon-type grill. It would do. I was determined to find Darrin some protein too, something basic I knew he would eat, and this type of place was his type of place, unfortunately! LOL

So I chose a cheeseburger for the protein, and some simple chicken strips for him, like my kids would choose, again for the protein, but also for the flavor, because I knew he wouldn't reject them, as he had the bland hospital food. I even got some fries, just thinking he might go a step further. That was a silly hope, and I would never eat them myself. I dug into my jeans pocket and pulled out some cash and change, and was 2 cents short. "Oh, rats!" I said. "I'm 2 cents short!" It was no big deal. I had a $20 in my other pocket. I had gotten some cash back when I put gas in the car on the way over the mountain earlier. I considered canceling the fries, but then started shifting things in my hands to reach for my other pocket.

There was a scruffy looking woman standing behind me, waiting for her order to come up. "No problem," she said way too loudly, and very jovially. "I've got it!" She was already reaching for her purse as I started to object. She was not particularly clean, and the man she was with was playing with a young child too roughly. I had been observing them as they ordered and had had already judged them rather harshly. They were not people I would readily associate with, I assessed, without admitting it to myself - that would be judgmental, of course.

But she would hear nothing of my protests, and I never even got as far as explaining that I had money in my other pocket. "I've got some change right here!" She exclaimed loudly. "See? And besides, I owe at least 2 cents! Last week I was homeless, and some stranger went out of their way to find me a home! Now I have a roof over my head! So you take my two cents, ok?"

My breath caught in my throat. I smiled warmly at her and put out my hand for the two cents. "Thank you", I said, "That is so kind of you."

"This way, someone did something nice for me, and I'm doing something nice for you. Maybe you'll be able to do something nice for someone else!" she mused. And then we both looked each other in the eye and said in unison "Kind of like 'Pay It Forward'"! We laughed together, and shared a smile.

As I reached across the cash register to pay the 2 cents, I noticed a little cup of spare change for people who were short of change. It held well over the amount I was short. I smiled again. I felt strangely pleased that I had not seen that cup before. I felt my heart so warmed by my strange encounter with my 2 cents debtor, this woman I had judged so falsely, who had taught me so much.

My Sweet Darrin

2009-05-13T13:28:00.000-07:00

Darrin lost consciousness and I got him to the hospital immediately. I found out later that he had nearly died.

Several years ago, I had a brush with death that took me from Darrin's reach, much in the way this bout with his health has nearly taken Darrin from me. At that point, this became our song.

Lady, are you crying, do the tears belong to me
Did you think our time together was all gone
Lady, youve been dreaming, Im as close as I can be
I swear to you our time has just begun

Close your eyes and rest your weary mind
I promise I will stay right here beside you
Today our lives were joined, became entwined
I wish you could know how much I love you

Lady, are you happy, do you feel the way I do
Are there meanings that youve never seen before
Lady, my sweet lady, I just cant believe its true
And its like Ive never ever loved before

Close your eyes and rest your weary mind
I promise I will stay right here beside you
Today our lives were joined, became entwined
I wish you could know how much I love you

Lady, are you crying, do the tears belong to me
Did you think our time together was all gone
Lady, my sweet lady, Im as close as I can be
I swear to you our time has just begun

Update

2009-05-13T13:12:00.001-07:00

Darrin is still in the hospital. The doctor had said he might come home today, but he developed a new symptom yesterday. We'll wait it out. On Sunday he was moved to a different hospital, and hour and half away. I can't be there and here at once. I wish I could just teleport myself - like this:

I miss him so much.