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The Waters Deep

Life's about swimming to the top and dancing on the waves!

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The Bandaid has been ripped off!

And it hurt.

 

Like millions of Americans I watched the election with enough anxiety to wipe out a country.  I wasn’t going to vote.  I’ve never voted.  I live in a state where the vote for President barely counts.  But as I saw the numbers leaning towards trump I threw on my shoes and raced to the polls.  I was the last and only one there.  They were folding up chairs and putting away the coffee and donuts.  Yes, in my little town,  we get coffee and donuts when we vote.

I voted for Hillary.  Thinking maybe my ONE vote would change the world.  Yeah.

I’m embarrassed to say that I have been so obsessed with the Presidential Election that I didn’t have a clue there’d be so many local people to vote for.  It ignorantly didn’t even occur to me to be informed.   So I voted every other.  Give both parties a chance.  Democrat.  Then Republican. If I was going to vote blindly, I at least wanted to be fair.

And I voted to legalize marijuana.  That just seemed like good timing.

Went home and slapped my ‘I voted’ sticker on a bottle of wine and drank.  Stunned.  Like just about everyone.  Sick to my stomach with the knowledge that our world that we live in has just flipped itself upside down.  Some may be happy about that, but myself, I really liked the fantasy of a classy President and Family.  One that hasn’t boasted about grabbing women by their …. well, you know and without their consent (this seems like an important point).

That said.  Unless the moon falls out of the sky, he is going to be the President.  I think we can handle it.  I’ve been in BAD relationships that lasted longer than four years and survived.

Facebook.  That’s another story.  I’m not sure I can survive Facebook and the cruel awful generalized judgements and blanket statements that are being hurled back and forth between all sides.  Losers and Winners.  GAH.  STOP.  I can’t believe I’m saying this but I miss the good ‘ole days of Selfies and Recipe posts.

People be kind!!  Raise the bar a little.

Trumps  campaign caused people to fear each other, provoking anger and division where there was once the beginnings of love and peace but now he has an opportunity to change that.  And I hope he does.  Maybe the Whitehouse will make him a better man.  Everyone deserves the chance to change.

I hope I reread this post in a couple of years and am given the chance to eat my words.  I hope he really is Great.  For America and all its People I Pray he really is Great.

Inhale.  Exhale.  It’s all good.

inhale

 

 

Unconditional Love~thats what its all about!

There is a moment in life where we choose what kind of human we are going to be.  Some of us do it consciously and some don’t.

Over the years I’ve started to choose who I want to be based on consequences from past choices and the Legacy I want to leave behind.  As I grow older its not been that difficult since the consequences come rapidly and I’m able to make the connection fairly quickly.  Choices.  Consequences.  Bamm.  See where you went wrong, make a note for future.

In my twenty’s I was an enthusiastic and very self righteous judgmental Lutheran.   I’m not saying all Lutherans are that way.  But I was.

I also belonged to a women’s supposedly non-denomination bible study called  Bible Study Fellowship, that preached love to all Christian religions but quietly had their own set of Strict Doctrine.  As a Leader we had to exemplify perfection.  They told us how to pray.  They told us how to dress.  No divorces.  No drinking.  No inappropriate clothing.  Near Perfection.  It was exhausting, but I went all out and did what I could to help family and friends be perfect as well.  I was awesome like that.  Oh, the ignorance and ego of my young self.

The consequences of that self-righteous judgement  was brought home to me when we were cleaning out my Grandmothers home when she died.   On the table, by her bed, was a worn out and much read letter from me.  I was at first honored that she would have a letter from me that she obviously kept so close to her.

And then I read it.  And then I wept with guilt.  I remembered writing it and feeling so full of indignation that she was living a lifestyle of such debauchery.  Multiple boyfriends, dancing and partying, smoking and drinking.  I felt it was my right as her granddaughter to set her on the path to God and Perfection.

My harsh words of condemnation that she read over and over and over again were the last thing she got from me and I can only imagine how she felt each time she read them.

That Moment.  Choices and Words that I could never take back changed my life forever.

Twenty-some years later, I look back and remember feeling a ‘shift’ towards a different thought pattern and belief system.

She comes to visit me in my dreams.  I tell her I love her.  Just that.  Because that is what its about, this life.  Love.  Unconditional Non-judgmental Love.

What a beautiful world it would be if we could all embrace each other, hold hands, and love the differences that we are.

The Fear of Loss

No matter what happens around me, or to me, as long as I am alive enough to see the sun and the moon rising I can still grow and love and life is amazing regardless of Loss.


This week I stood, once again, over a hospital bed watching a family member recover from an over indulgence of Doctor Prescribed Medication and Budweiser.  Her face a puffy caricature of the  beautiful high cheek boned person I knew.   Once perfect lips dry and cracked and almost undetectable except for the tongue that keeps darting out as she tries to form what I can only guess are words, a hopelessly failed attempt to convince the doctor she has Food Poisoning.  Her eyes yellowed and blood shot, an obvious cry of help from a Liver that seems almost ready to take a permanent vacation from a body that has become way to much work to maintain.  Nicotine stained fingers tinged with a hint of blue, her lungs are not awake enough to take in air but not dead enough to completely stop.

I just want to go home.

I stand there looking at her husband, who is studying the lines on the floor as if they are going to give him the secret answer to the Universe and think, “You watch her sober up or die.  Not me.  You are the one lying to the doctors.  You know the Truth.  Why will you not share it?”  He catches me staring and I see Fear.  It has rendered him speechless.  I want to slap him.

So I walk to the nurses station and tell them her real story.  The truth that she has been struggling with prescription drug addiction for 15+ years.

Plenty of Fluids later and she has recovered miraculously from ‘Food Poisoning’.  They are going to walk her and then she will be released.  It’s no longer an emergency.  This time I don’t beg the doctor to send her to rehab.  I’m not angry.  I’m not really anything except tired.

The next day we have our ‘day after’ talk where I tell her she’s going to die and ask if that’s the Legacy she wishes to leave behind.  I remind her that her mother died from a cocktail of alcohol and pills.  She cries.  She tells me she’s sorry and it won’t happen again.

It’s the same as always. The only difference this time is that I have let go of the Fear of losing her.  I have let go of the responsibility to try to make her sober.  I have let go.

I hug her like it might be the last time I ever see her, because it might.  I look into her hungover eyes and will her to understand that she is loved.

I walk away without any Fear of Loss and I walk back to my life where the birds are chirping, bees are buzzing, my dog is farting, my kids are calling and my husband is hammering on something in the kitchen.

No loss, except my own life, will kill me.  There is Freedom in that Truth.

Dear Husband,

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Dear Adorable Husband,

I’m curious about something and don’t take this as a criticism, because its actually an attempt to understand you and the way you think.

When I asked you to ‘move’ the air mattress with the hole in it, why did it end up just five feet away by the front door?
I may be over processing this but these are a few of my thoughts as to why:
  1.  I said ‘move’ not ‘put away’ so we had a lack of communication.  Basically, I wasn’t clear enough, assuming you’d know that I didn’t just want it ‘moved’ a few feet away because I like it when things are ‘put away’.  (btw you can always assume the latter is my first choice).
  2.  You knew I meant ‘put away’ but didn’t want to so you stuck it by the door, out of my eyesight so you didn’t have to have an argument with me about why you didn’t want to ‘put it away’.  It’s interesting that you’d not play that tape forward after your previous, and similar,  experiences.
  3. You planned on really ‘putting it away’ LATER and forgot or got distracted.
  4. You have plans to find the airhole and will forget if you actually put it away so by the front door will remind you it needs done (much like the hot tub filter that sat on the deck until I ask for the 3rd time that you put it in a bucket of cleaner maybe?)
  5.  All of the above
I’m leaning towards #5
This also makes me question why the boards with the nails ended up on the patio table and on the patio floor (the throbbing hole in my foot, from the nail I stepped on that pierced through my flip-flop,  reminded me I was going to ask about this):
  1. You were on your way to the fire pit but got winded and decided to just leave them until later?
  2. You want to recycle the nails before they go in the fire pit and was kind enough to not leave them in the hallway?
  3. You’re not positive you want to throw them away so the table on the deck is a good spot to put them until you decide?
  4. You’re waiting until the pile is big enough to warrant a trip ALL the way to the firepit in the back yard?
  5. You hate me and you’re trying to make me lose my fucking mind with all of the piles you leave laying around the house because you don’t have ‘time’ to go another five feet to finish putting something where it goes?
I’m leaning towards #5
🙂  I appreciate your response.  I think it will make me feel better and understand you more and I can put the anti-freeze and rat poison back in the garage.
Love,
 Your Wife

Broccoli is for Trees Grammy

My 3 year old Granddaughter and I playing alphabet flash cards:

HER: “You be the baby and I’ll be the mommy”.  She holds a card up and says, “A is forrrrrrrr?” Looking at me sternly… Eyebrows raised almost to hairline level, lips pursed,  hand high on her waist, elbow jutting out.
ME: Trying to not laugh, pretending to think hard, “Apple”
HER: “Good job! I knew you could do it. Your so smart!! Hi five baby!  Apples are good because they aren’t green. But Green is for Grass and broccoli is for trees and why do you eat grass and trees all the time grammy and Is ‘B’ for Broccoli or Trees because broccoli is gross?”

HaHa… she’s been watching what I eat but isn’t so impressed.

Zoe

 

 

 

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