Publish or Perish
Getting antsy as I await an upcoming issue of Premier Guitar.
Guess who has a photo in the mag?
Friends are like bras; a good one never lets you down
Getting antsy as I await an upcoming issue of Premier Guitar.
Guess who has a photo in the mag?
A quick return to Two-fer Tuesday.
Having a full on John Denver sort of longing. I know, mostly, it’s a longing for home, for my children. LD’s birthday is Monday. He’ll be 15. Mojo’s birthday is just another month away, too. She’ll be 19. How did that happen?
When the kids were young, we listened to a lot of John Denver and his music makes me terribly nostalgic for those times when we curled up at night and sang together as they headed toward slumber.
While not a “sleeping” song, this tune was one of our favorites. LD used to call for it all the time. I remember him in the back of the car, kicking his little legs to the music, calling, “Mommy! I can make the galloping sounds!” The ex hated it, but I thought it was precious. And Mojo, she’d beg for a guitar so she could learn to play Denver’s music “so the world will never forget him.” (That’s when he was still alive, too.)
Sigh.
A song few seem to remember.
The following used to be LD’s favorite sweet dreams song.
I love this song. It’s just so… lovely.
Lillian was gone. Dead. And that’s all there was to be said about that. At least, that’s what everyone thought. As the crowd slowly dispersed from around the grave, the attendants began to shovel dirt upon the coffin. Suddenly, there was a tremendous knocking coming from the ground. People turned…the gravediggers leapt back from the hole.
And then came the voice. It was Lillian. She was yelling, “_______________________________”
(You fill in the blank)
Ugh, this is frustrating. Plan on having these monthly outages for a bit. Nothing has gone right lately.
One client bounced their deposit check and sent me reeling. It was a big job. Needless to say, they are no longer my clients after they wouldn’t make good money-wise. AND they decided to hire a student with no experience for the job. They will get what they paid for. Count on that. I’ve seen his work.
Anyhow, with all that crap going on, my phone is off as well. The effects of the rubber check continue. It’s frustrating. But, it’ll get better. It will. It just takes time.
So I wait for other jobs to kick in and such. Still waiting to have my teeth fixed and the for donations offer continues.
As for everything else: my battle with the insurance company rages on as they’ve begun denying injections but will happily continue throwing pain meds at me. I miss my kids. I haven’t found a permanent place to live…yet. And I keep trying to find a regular little job to prop me up in between photo sessions.
And that’s about it in a very large nutshell for me.
Oh, yeah. Today would have also been my 16 wedding anniversary. You know what? I’m actually very grateful for the experience and am glad we’ve both found better paths in life. Hindsight is a wonderful thing.
What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever given someone or received?
I’ve given people some odd things in my life, but probably one of my long standing favorite finds was a Vincent Van Gogh doll with a removable ear. It was silly, but appropriate for the moment.
Don’t know why I thought of that just now.
Also, makes me think of Gus Gutz, a plush doll with organs that you pull out of his mouth. My mom gave it to the kids when they were little.
The official death tally was given as 2996, but when you consider the number of people who have died since the attacks on America, the number just keeps growing and those lives are just as worthy of remembrance as everyone else.
Our lives have changed. For a moment, we seemed united. Then we started pointing fingers at one another instead of offering embraces to comfort. I’m done pointing fingers and I want to go back to a time when we hugged strangers and took time to get to know neighbors and others. A time when we stopped rushing so quickly toward unimportant busy work and took time to appreciate the laughter of a child or to feel the warmth of someone’s hand in ours. Where we slowed down a bit to marvel that another day had begun and ended without catastrophe and we thanked God or whomever for that. When we took an extra few minutes to linger at the doorway to watch our children sleep or to just peel an apple for them as they colored on a piece of paper.
Stop rushing. Start counting to 3000 and then keep going…as long as you can. In that time, peel an apple or orange or write a note to put in someone’s lunch bag, place a call to a friend or to someone who maybe once was a friend. Reach out and do something different. Do 3000 different somethings that recognize the lives lost, the lives impacted by September 11, 2001.
Be a little less about yourself and a little more about someone else. The rewards are incredible.
I return to “Rhymes & Reasons” by John Denver, as I have every year since that fateful day. It says so much to me.
So you speak to me of sadness and the coming of the winter
Of fear that is within you now that seems to never end
And the dreams that have escaped you
And the hope that you’ve forgotten
And you tell me that you need me now
And you want to be my friendAnd you wonder where we’re going,
Where’s the rhyme and where’s the reason,
And it’s you who cannot accept, it is here we must begin
To seek the wisdom of the children
And the graceful way of flowers in the windFor the children and the flowers are my sisters and my brothers
Their laughter and their loveliness would clear a cloudy day
Like the music of the mountains and the colors of the rainbow
They’re a promise of the future and a blessing for today.‘Tho the cities start to crumble and the towers fall around us
The sun is slowly fading and it’s colder than the sea
It is written from the desert to the mountains they shall lead us
By the hand and by the heart they will comfort you and me
In their innocence and trusting they will teach us to be freeFor the children and the flowers are my sisters and my brothers
Their laughter and their loveliness would clear a cloudy day
And the song that I am singing is a prayer for non-believers
Come and stand beside us, we can find a better way
Act I, I shall go thank a vet.
Act II, I shall plant some seeds that will someday blossom.
Act III, I shall speak the names of the dead with great reverence.
Act IV, I shall tell my family I love them.
And the rest of the acts will happen as they will. I’ll cease counting and let them just become a way of living for me. Today is the perfect day to do that.
A simple line spoken from a silly TV character. But the impact. Oh, the impact.
I have a confession for y’all. I’d fallen in love a few months back. Didn’t say anything about it because the man with whom I’d fallen in love didn’t know and I didn’t think it was right to blog about it when he didn’t even know, you know? But there I was: in love. He did a little disappearing act. Perhaps he sensed my feelings and disappearing was his way of avoiding having to deal with that. Or maybe he just figured if he wasn’t around, I’d simply fall out of love along the way. Thing is, I didn’t. And he showed up again. He uttered those sweet three words to me one day and my tongue froze, my BRAIN froze so I said nothing, but my heart wanted to shout them back to him in absolute joy. Yet, I didn’t.
I didn’t say anything until a few weeks later and then it was, apparently, too late. The window had closed. The door slammed shut. The taxi pulled away from the curb with a terrible squeal of tires and a cloud of dust. And I cried. Because I truly didn’t believe I would love someone again or that when I did, when I finally said those words — to someone who had just recently said them to me — that I’d be left with nothing but a few memories and a broken heart. The tears…they were a sight to behold! Thought I was all mature and chill about it until the great flood of Las Vegas 2011 was unleashed. I couldn’t help it. Disappointment cut deep and I wasn’t prepared for the reaction I got. Not at all.
It’s true, though. All true. And I don’t know that I’ll get over this one easily. I took my time getting to know him, getting to love all his personality quirks, our odd way of communicating, our ease in just being together, learning to trust that he’d be there when I’d call, laughing over the same things, marveling over the things he brought to my life, etc. You know, all the things that are important when you’re getting to know someone. I took my time and falling for him was gradual and natural and really kind of lovely.
When he disappeared, I worried. When he returned, I rejoiced. Now he’s gone again and my heart hurts because I don’t believe there’s another reappearance in our future. I’d give anything for that, but let’s face it, it’s not how things usually work. At least not for me.
All I know is that he’s a special man and I was ready for him, to be there for him, to give him all of me, to cook and clean and do whatever he wanted to help make his life as special as he is, as easy as it should be.
Kind of funny that you get to that point and suddenly the rug is pulled out from under you. “If you can get over the heartbreak…” there are supposed to be other opportunities. I think it’s going to take me a long time to get over this one. This man. I’m going to miss him in the worst way.
I’m so sick of feeling sick. So tired of being tired. Really, truly, if I vomit one more time, I will officially cut into my belly and rip all my guts out.
Too much is just too much. This reminds me terribly of when I was pregnant with Little Dude and totally hyperemetic. The nausea! The puke! It was awful. And it’s nearing that level. But with the added excitement of causing my neck to hurt even more.
Ah, it’s just another day in the life, I suppose. However, it’s reached a level I can no longer tolerate. I have an appointment in 11 hrs with the back doc, so we’ll see if it’s the meds or if it’s something else. Oy.
Here’s hoping I get an answer or two.
My only distraction from pain and nausea: british TV. Yup. I have access to a nice collection of brit tv on DVD at the moment, so I’m soaking up as much of it as I can. Oh, and One Life To Live. Yeah, I know I said I was catching General Hospital a bit here and there, but the old Todd showed up again on OLTL and I’m a curious soul. I check in from time to time.
Anyhow, there’s that. And I’m outta here. Got an hour to watch a video and then hit the hay.
Teeth still rotting out of my head: check
Massive headache: check
Neck pain with serious popping and cracking: check, check, CHECK
Vomiting again: check
Odd sleep patterns: check
Place to live: nope
Regular incoming work: nope
Kind, loving man who opened his arms to me: well, he was there and then “poof!” he was gone.
Things are going just as I planned.
Not
But there is hope. And prayer. And friendship.
Freddie Mercury wouldn’t let anything stop him, so why should I let anything stop me? Google’s honored him brilliantly.
Happy birthday, Freddie!
Just the other night, I was having a discussion with a friend from out of town and we both somehow got on the subject of Steve Irwin, how he made wildlife education exciting, how he inspired our kids to take an interest in something more than video games and cartoons.
Funny that both my friend and I had little boys who loved to dress in khaki and yell, “crikey!” Or maybe we’re like a lot of other mothers of boys who looked up to the man who believed the natural world was an intriguing place.
Both of my kids took the role of wildlife warriors very seriously. They were and are animal lovers, and back in the day they really loved anything that had to do with — especially — reptiles. We often played zookeepers to our friend’s turtles, tortoises, lizards, and snakes while he was deployed and the kids charted hatchings, growth, etc. It was a wonderful thing to see their curiosity bloom with each development.
The world is far richer for having had the likes of Steve Irwin in it. And I, for one, still miss him.