lost...

I spent a lot of time in prayer last night.  Hubs and I decided we should watch the president speaking in Philadelphia.  We try not to live in an echo chamber, to be well versed in everything going on around us.  I mean after all it was supposedly the leader of the free world speaking to our entire country. 

I guess I should have been concerned when it wasn't broadcast on any of the network channels, I guess I'm showing my age, because I remember when the president spoke it was carried on live television.  And based on the title of the speech, it seemed that it should be something that was on all of the national channels.  I did hear it was covered on CNN, but I do not pay for any of those channels, I refuse to pay for non-stop brainwashing on either side. 

Maybe it's because I was raised in foreign countries, maybe it's because I have seen first hand the damages causes by the type of rhetoric that I listened to last night. Or maybe it was because I was listening with the intent to fully understand.  Whatever the reason, I was sick to my stomach.  I was up for half the night deep in prayer for our country and world. 

Last night was heart breaking, on top of the extremely eerie vibes of the lighting and the ambiance, which seemed deliberately set.  Whatever happened to the days of our presidents sitting in front of a fire place, chatting with us as if we were friends and neighbors. 

Last night broke my heart. Over my adulthood we have had presidents that I did not care for, their words and actions didn't align with my values. I've never even considered that gave me the right to demonize those who thought differently than I do. 

Oddly, looking through various social media last night, my blood turned cold with the hatred and go get them attitude that seemed to resonate in many places.  I prayed that those were bots, I prayed that those were simply AI, programmed to stir the pots.  I prayed that we the American people had not actually slide to the low that we were incapable of seeing through the hatred spewed in the bloody red darkness (fading to pink if you were watching CNN from the videos I watched later).  I prayed that the American people are stronger and better than all of that.  

We are God's nation.  We are strong, we are good people that care for one another.  We pull together even when we can't agree, we search for the common ground.  Aren't we?

If you changed the term the president kept repeating over and over again, to any number of other terms, it would have sent people into an actual tailspin of condemnation.  If he'd picked a religion, gender, nationality, skin color or whatever I'm sure you would have heard the echo's all around about the evilness of it all.  Instead what I am seeing is a villainization of a large portion of America, based on the fact that they do not hold the same beliefs. 

My heart wonders how much more will be attempted to shatter us, to render the very fabric of America useless. They've attempted over the decades to place wedges in between us all based on everything you could possibly list.  Color, gender, religion, thoughts, race, finances and so much more that I can't even remember.  And through it all, even though there have been blips and hiccups of horrible proportions we have managed to still retain the very fibers that make us a republic.  

America is a republic.  We are not a democracy, no matter how many times it is repeated and yelled, we are still (at least for the time being) a republic.  Each and every person regardless of their thoughts, feelings, beliefs, color, or anything else is just as important as the next.  And it feels that there is pure evil afoot that wants to change that.  That wants to send us back in time, that is laying the groundwork for what happened in Germany in 1933.  We all know how that ended. 

I don't care about any of the things they are trying to use to divide us, I am an American.  I believe in our constitution and freedoms.  I always have, I always will. I can't change this world.  I can't change hearts set on tearing others down and from striping away that which we hold most precious.  It's not possible.  

What I can do, is pray.  I am going to continue to stay in prayer.  I am going to lift up each person, I am going to continue to ask God to heal our damaged country and world. 

This is simply a reflection of my feelings and beliefs regarding what I watched last night. To me, in the course of my life experiences, those 24 minutes were filled with something completely unbecoming of an American president. They filled me with a deep sense of loss and hurt. Each of us will process it on our own, if you even watched it as it was not readily available to see.  

I'm going to spend some time out in the garden this morning.  Praying and processing the past 12 hours. 

God bless America once again, please.... 

love and peace for all!

foggy with a touch of mist...

It's a dense foggy morning here in the Lou.  I'm looking out the window and feeling wrapped in an odd cocoon of gray and white, almost like a cotton ball. It makes the day feel lonely and far too quiet and still.  As I went out on the deck to take the picture I realized everything is covered in mist. It's so strange how it covers everything. The oddness of the day has very sound in my house making me a bit jumpy as a result. 

Hubs had to be in to work super early, he's doing a favor for one of his team.  He's definitely the kind of supervisor that you want to have, he goes out of his way to make their lives easier and more family centric.  One of the things I am most proud of him for.  When you work with someone that makes it feel like you are part of a team as opposed to being directed to do everything, it makes it a much better situation all around. I understand why he had to go so early, but it only makes these kind of days more sinister feeling, when they are anything but. Days like this really make me miss my boys. Their calmness would have had me far less jumpy. Thankfully, he chatted with me on his entire drive to work. 

I know that the noises are outside, the wind pushing branches, the neighbors opening and closing doors in the dense mist. They are things like the heater kicking on and rattling the duct work and my plants that are too close to the vents.  It's strange the tricks your mind can play on you when its creepy and foggy out. 

My imagination has already drummed up someone or something in the attic, wondering if the house has suddenly become haunted or a million other things.  It's craziness in real time.  Could be a bit of sleep deprivation also, as I woke up around three this morning and couldn't drift back to sleep.  My brain started on high gear telling me to get busy on my stack of projects. 

I'm actually just taking a coffee and chat with my sister break.  In a few I will head back upstairs to finish a few small projects and spend the rest of the day quilting.  

There is such a strange feeling to life right now, nothing feels normal.  I really can't explain it.  I constantly think of things I want or need to do, but then I don't feel that I should do them.  Its so weird. I mean, I still haven't decorated for Christmas, at all!  And my kitchen is literally covered in boxes, wrapping paper and presents waiting for me to finish wrapping them.  I have a feeling that I won't decorate until this weekend.  I am afraid to carry things on the stairs, out of fear of falling, and the darn things will not bring themselves up. 

I might be taking the need to hibernate a bit too seriously.  I have no idea. I am sure it has more to do with feeling overwhelmed right now.  I don't understand why, but I am definitely feeling overwhelmed.  I also don't do clutter well and right now my world feels very cluttered.  Or maybe it is because the more of it I clean out, the more I find that I want to clean out.  I'm simply not sure. I know when I cleaned the bedroom and did the ironing at 330 this morning, I felt more focused and wanted to do more tasks.  Maybe the clutter of all these projects is causing me to feel overwhelmed.  Anyone else feel that way?

Well, I guess I should dig into the "clutter" which is actually just a ton of unfinished projects and head up to my sewing room.  

love and peace... 

until we meet again...

Fifteen years ago, during what felt like the darkest time.  On what would have been my puppy Fred's first birthday, I brought home my Gator. I can still hear the phone message from that long ago machine playing over in my head.  "This is the vet clinic, we got notice that you had applied to adopt Metro, we know that there were 43 people before you on the list, but wanted to tell you about the Basset-Pit, brindle, male that has been waiting for someone to love him for over three months now.  If you want to go look at him, we will stay open until you decide so you can bring him in for a check up."

 I distinctly remember saying we are just going to look, we are NOT bringing him home.

After waiting for what seemed like hours, probably only 30 minutes, the officer came and had us follow her to the dog handling area.  She let him come running to me.  There I was all squatted down low, arms spread wide expecting that little, big ball of fur to stop short.  Cautious.  Unsure of me.  What I was not expecting was that little fireball lunging straight into my arms, landing me flat on my back with all 60 plus pounds of him on my chest, licking me like I was his favorite flavor of ice cream.

I gently scolded him about licking (it freaks me out) and wrapped my arms tightly around that ball of energy that needed a bath. He never licked my face again.  And I never took my arms from around him. 

Until about half an hour ago. 

Just about four and a half years ago, the vet said, he's got cancer and he's too old to operate on.  Take him home and love him.  Cherish every moment and make it count, to bring him back when it was time.  I remember through teary eyes, sobbing and numb at the same time, asking him how will I know when it is time?   His response... He will let you know.

I was fearful this morning, just the way he'd been acting, the staggered, short walk. The refusal to eat his treats.  The look in those beautiful eyes. 

I got the call about an hour before I planned to leave.  I don't even remember what I left sitting on my desk as I grabbed my keys, phone and bag and told my friend that I had to leave.  The panic hadn't set it, but I could feel it.  I was praying that Hubs was just being over cautious again.  I was praying that it wasn't time.  I knew it was.  I've known it was coming I could feel it.  He woke me up super early this morning, usually I am waking him up.  I could hear him walking around, but something wasn't right.

I think I drove home on auto pilot tonight.  As soon as I cleared the door those sweet eyes gazed up at me.  The look told me all I needed to know.  He was waiting for mommy.  I lifted him over to his bed, loved on him for a moment and told him I would be back down in a few moments. 

I knew it was time.

He was letting me know.  I wrapped my baby in a blanket and snuggled him close.  I sat with him to let Neeko say good bye.  I know I was stalling leaving the house. I also know that as rough of a start as he and Neeko had they truly were brothers that loved each other.  Neeks is going to be lost. 

I took my time saying goodbye.   Those last minutes seemed far too short.  I told him how much I loved him and thanked him for loving me unconditionally. At about 5:45 pm I let my baby cross the rainbow bridge.  He was hurting.  He was tired.  I could have been selfish, and Lord knows I wanted to be selfish.  I wanted as much time as I could gather to my heart.  I could have waited a few more hours, holding him close and petting that sweet head.  Stroking the soft fur and talking softly to him.  He was ready to go.  He was tired.  He was letting me know.

I couldn't... that sweet boy was my heart dog.  He was truly my baby.  I could never allow anything to hurt him. He went to sleep softly in my arms.  His eyes gently closed, his heart slowly stopped. I held him until his little paws got cold. And I carefully laid him in the "pet hearse".  Paws Forever will bring him home again to me soon. 

Tonight a loving heart stopped.  He was almost 19.  I was blessed.  Right now... I feel lost.

standing on the edge....

It's 2 am.

I can't sleep.

The house is quiet, to the point that I cannot even hear any of the boys (Hubs included) snoring. Outside it's calm.  The raging winds of last night are gone. 

It's absolutely eerie, the silence is sort of deafening.  You can hear nothing.  Just your own breathing and thoughts.

That is what has had me awake for over an hour now. My thoughts.

I need to sleep.  Tomorrow is the end of this mini-staycation that has refreshed my spirit and renewed my very soul. 

And yet, I cannot sleep. 

I hope sorting out the thoughts raging in my mind will help me close my eyes and rest for a bit. I've tried meditating, and imagining myself in my favorite places. Nothing is working tonight. Or I guess I should say this morning.

I'm struggling with people.  In general.

The lack of respect and caring for others is completely wearing me out. The need to constantly monitor my own thoughts and words for fear of offending or upsetting the apple cart of another person, when there is little to no consideration for my thoughts and feelings is exhausting.

I'm tired of group think.  I'm tired of feel the way I want you to feel or you are a bad person.  I'm simply worn out. 

I'm tired of "do gooders" and back stabbers.  And lately it feels like that is the world that I am completely submerged in. Maybe it is the one we are all submerged in.  I know what is bothering me tonight.  I received a couple of emails and a comment yesterday that really wore me out.  I haven't been able to shake them.  They need a response, yet I am weary and I don't want to lift that sword and deal with that battle again.  I don't have the emotional energy left.

I've been expending far too much emotional energy this year.  I've lifted others up, when those that I've needed haven't been there for me.  I worry too much about stomping on another's feelings, yet struggle to speak the words when they do that to me.  Simply because I am not always strong enough to deflect their reactions without owning them.  I end up absorbing the energy that ultimately causes me sleepless nights and pain.

This year has brought too much of that.  To the point that locking myself away is starting to sound like a viable option.  It's been a very long time since I have felt the urge to run.  To hide.

I'm searching for my happy place.  I'm looking for somewhere or something that will bring back balance. Because somewhere, somehow I've lost it.  Not even just a little bit.  A lot.

I've been on a journey.  I'm trying to sit quietly and hear the directions being given.  Yet there is so much background static, that I am struggling to focus.  I can't see the path, it's blocked.  And I am not sure what is blocking it.

I'm starting to feel invisible, where I most need to be seen.  I am fairly sure I am allowing that to happen. Out of fear, maybe.  Frustration, possibly. 

I'm strong.  Emotionally, mentally, and physically I have fought some hard battles.  I feel I have won them all, I'm still here able to type them out. And yet at times I feel that I am my own worst enemy. My heart does not ever want to cause another person hurt or grief.  I allow myself to be used and abused by others, often to protect them from feeling the same way they make me feel.

Yet, as I lay there this morning in the silence, my mind wandering all over.  I realized that it is by far not a "me" problem.  It is a humanity problem.  There are so many people in the world today that want everyone to think and feel the way they want them to.  So many people are literally shouting what they want and what will make them happy, yet they won't sit in the silence and listen to what other's have a right to want and need. To hear and feel with their hearts.

Too often anymore I am listening to sharp words, the criticism when you don't think and feel the same way.  An unwillingness to truly listen, because your way is "right" and they are only doing it in someone's best interest.  My question is always, whose best interest?

I fear I am awake at this hour, sorting through these thoughts because I need to take a stand.  And I simply don't know if I am ready. I know what's right, I have been listening and learning for quite a long time.  It is a pathway that I can see very clearly.  But is it a journey that I am emotionally ready to take?

My father crossed over this year.  He started the next part of his journey.  In my worry about making other's uncomfortable or inconvenienced I shoved a lot of that grief and hurt and loss down into the deepest part of who I am.  I haven't let it show, I've dealt with it silently and sometimes alone, because I know that others pain is just as acute as mine, that it is just as real, that each of us has to meet it on our own terms.  I know too many that have suffered great losses this year and that healing is not an overnight process.

So much of it feels that it is coming home, like a cauldron deep inside is bubbling up. I've allowed things to happen to me and ridden the wave, just hoping to stay afloat. I haven't practiced self love or self care. Instead feeling that it was selfish and wrong to put myself first.

Afraid to speak up and let my own voice, feelings and emotions be heard. 

I think I am standing at the edge of something far more powerful than I ever imagined. I don't feel that it will lead me away from my loved ones, in fact I feel it will draw me closer.  I don't feel like it will harm me.  Yet I feel that it is going to require far more strength and self-love than I have ever been able to muster.

I have had three different people, that do not know me, in the past 5 months tell me that I am strong, that I come from a long line of strong women and that it's time for me to step into the light and stop hiding who I am.  To come to the front of the line and stop standing in the shadows.

Is that what I have been doing?  Have I been hiding in the shadows because it doesn't take as much energy?  Have I stopped being true to who I am to blend in?  To simply be accepted?

I don't know.

Yet I know that a new day is dawning, literally and figuratively. I am finding that I need to be loved,  accepted and respected for who I am.  That being the person other's want and expect me to be is simply not working for me. 

I'm tired of being taken for granted and I'm very tired of being invisible. And in far too many ways that is where I am at in life right now, and I'm not okay with it.

I don't know where this journey is going to take me. 

I know there are people I am leaving behind.  I know there are things that I am no longer interested in. I know that I am refusing to be a door mat or stepping stone.  I completely believe in lifting others up, but I will no longer do it at the expense of myself.  It's a journey we take together or not at all.

There will be casualties in this battle for me.

heaven needed a hero...

Outside it's cold and dreary.  Little spurts of icy hail pellets sprinkling down. 

Inside I feel cold and dreary.  And I definitely feel icy pellets in my heart.

I haven't written in a week.  I've tried. 

It's been the hardest week of my life so far. My memories keep flashing back as far as I can remember and then forward to last Sunday and then Monday.

Running my fingers through my Daddy's soft hair.  Feeling the wrinkles at his eyes from a life time of smiling.  Looking so much like he was simply sleeping.  Wanting so bad for him to open his beautiful eyes. Hating the bitter cold that met my hands, the shiver from kissing his sweet face.

Knowing when I walked away I would never in this lifetime touch him again. I wanted so badly to hold his hands, but they were already folded over his chest and the blankets were up to his neck.  I'm sure there was no need to close his chest, so I am thankful they protected us from that.

Looking at all the pictures and helping to straighten the house and prepare for the memorial service was hell in itself.  Part of me longed to leave, to simply head home to snuggle my Hubs and boys in the comfort of my own world and try to block it out.  I knew no one that would be there.  It was not for my comfort and I didn't feel the strength to give strangers comfort.

You can't block it out. 

I keep telling myself that he is not hurting anymore, that he's fishing and doing all the things denied to him by his stroke.  I know he's surrounded by my Grammie and his bull dogs - of course all the other pups, but mostly Butchie 1 and Butchie 2.  Daddy loved his bull dogs. 

I know the cardinals that keep hovering nearby were sent from him to comfort us.  The day of his service a big, fat, bright red one stayed near the house all day.  It hovered in the feeders, the trees, the scrubs and on the fence.  It felt like he was watching out for all of us. Letting us know, that even though he wasn't beside us any longer that he was still near. And would always watch over Momma and his girls.

My whole life I have worked hard to make him proud.  It was like a life mission, to be a person that my Daddy would be proud of.  I saw him right before Christmas and we were talking about my career and things I had accomplished.  The sparkle in his eye and the love in his voice when he told me how proud he was of all I had accomplished, that he always knew I would... even as sick as I was, I am so thankful my kids pleaded with me to go.  If I hadn't, I would have never heard those words, I would have always wondered.

As I was searching for pictures, I realized that even though I had been home to see them, I'd been so busy making memories that I hadn't gotten a picture of us. Honestly, I took very few while I was home this time. 

Funny, Arkansas is not my home.  I've never lived there in my life. I guess where ever your parents are is where home becomes.  I'm so thankful that my Momma and Daddy had so many years together.  Even when they drove one another crazy (don't we all?) they still had that beautiful love for one another.

That picture book in my head is loaded to bursting, even without the most recent.  The memories are overflowing.  Game nights, midnight omelets (my Daddy made the most incredible omelets), learning to fish and to ride a bike, living in a camper while he went to school, arguments over homework, the celebrations when he would come home from TDY, exploring the world, always knowing my hero would rescue me, learning to drive, long talks about life and its challenges, banter about politics, buying audio books every payday when he'd first had his stroke, his pride in all of our accomplishments, the love he showed in a million ways, the bravery he showed when Momma was sick, dancing with my Daddy at weddings and in our living room as he taught us all the old dances. 

For every memory there are a million more.  And I am so thankful for each and every one.  Today is my baby girl's birthday.  I remember the day she was born.  I remember my Daddy's reaction.  He bought her the first flowers she ever got.  She wasn't but an hour old.  I was hungry, it was after 1 am.  I'd last eaten dinner on March 9th.  My Daddy left the hospital and came back with a single rose for my baby girl and dinner for me from the local gas station.  It was all that was open. I've never forgotten that.  While all of our attention had shifted to our beautiful blue eyed chubby cheeked baby girl, my Daddy was worried about his worn out baby girl.

I don't know that I feel strong enough to move forward yet, but life can't wait for my participation any longer.  And I'm sure that my Daddy is probably getting tired of sending so many cardinals to let us know he's near.

My sweet 11 year old Grand daughter called me on my drive to Arkansas that horrible day.  She's walked in my shoes already.  Her sweet voice telling me how tragic it was and that it needed a phone call not a text was exactly the salve I needed at that point.  She's right.  She reminded me that now my Daddy was with me all the time, not just sometimes.  And that I could talk to him whenever I wanted.

She and I have an ice cream date when she gets home from spring break.  I took her out for ice cream when she needed some love after losing her Daddy.  She said we need to go out together when she's home. 

So much of this week is bluring.  There are beautiful flowers and plants, stacks of cards, hurting hearts and bitter words and tears.  As I move into week two of learning this new way of life, I worry about my Momma, after all she lost her best friend and love of a life time.  I worry for my sisters, we will each grieve and mourn in our own ways, and I fear for the damage it may cause.  And I worry for my sweet Hubs, he lost a dear friend.

I pray that Daddy keeps sending Cardinals and that God takes care of our precious Daddy.

After all... our Hero is home with him now.

musings of a "doer"

These kind of days are the hardest for me.  I love my career path, it makes me happy.  But days like this, make me long for the life I used to live.

I miss having a garden.  I miss going out to forage through the leaves and vines to find the treasures glistening in the sunlight.  If you haven't ever been blessed to eat a tomato still warm from the sun, you truly won't appreciate that statement.  And if you haven't... what in the WORLD are you waiting for?

There is nothing as wonderful as picking produce that you have grown, nurtured, and patiently guarded against every other critter in nature to savor at that perfect moment of ripeness. Not the slightly green, slightly unripened fruits and veggies that you gather at the market complete with directions on how to ripen them at home in either a paper bag or on the counter or window sill. I get it.  I understand that the shelf life of truly fresh produce is short.  Which makes the gift that much sweeter.

While Hubs and I were dropping presents off to our grand daughters this morning, our daughter gifted us with a bowl of fresh from the garden yellow cherry tomatoes!  Heaven!

I would love to go and get some fresh fruits that I pick at the farmers market and make up some jams and such.  My free time is so limited now that I have to pick and choose my passions.

Sitting with the girl this morning as she is talking about making candles, painting, maybe even doing something with t-shirts, I was feeling envious.  I know this pace won't be going on forever.  I know it is a temporary blip in time.

Maybe it's genetic, tied back to generations before, the need to gather, get ready for the cold, to be prepared for whatever my family might need.  All of the season changes cause different feelings that go far deeper than simply memory.  But the change from summer to autumn has the strongest pull.  While everyone is going nuts about pumpkin flavored everything (no thank you by the way!) my soul feels the need to start cooking, creating, lining my nest with treasures to prepare for the winter ahead.

Yes, my brain completely understands that it is 2017 and if I need something I can go to the store, pick it up.  I don't NEED to create warm blankets, can my own food, knit my own socks and sweaters I can run to any 24 hour store and get them at any time of the day.... but....

yeah... but...  where is the joy in that?  What type of satisfaction does that bring.  My DNA refuses to move into this century.  Where is the love that is careful put into every handmade stitch, each stir of the pot?  The quickest way to my heart is to present me with something that you put time into creating, designing, cooking, etc. Why?  Because to me it screams that you had to think about me the entire time that it was coming into existence.  It's almost impossible not to.

I'm on call today, so I can't go far from work.  I am thankful for this day.  I just loaded a quilt on my quilting frame, I have the paint to paint my front door trim, I will soon be cooking a delicious dinner for the Hubs.  I will make a grocery list to complete a few other "projects" that I am working on, surprises for loved ones.  And I will simply enjoy the day.

Feel like I should be dusting off my bonnet and aprons.  Getting the fishing poles ready to go and catch supper.  It feels like a little house kind of day.

Oh I am beyond grateful that I have no need to wash my dishes or clothes by hand.  Trust me, I do appreciate the modern "gadgets".  But there are times, I long for a slower pace.  I long for the busy work of the day to be replaced by meaningful work to care for my family and loved ones.  I understand those were hard times, that we have it easier now.

Then I question... do we? Has all the "easier" ways of doing things fed into "idle hands are the devils workshop"?

I cherish that my daughter keeps her daughters (even the baby) and their friends busy. That they are always creating, doing, exploring and expanding.  I am fairly sure that I will never hear that they have harmed someone.  That there actions have lead to a crime.  Honestly, she doesn't give them a chance to get that bored.  They have chores, they are always creating something, and despite her loathing of messes, I did see the cookie kits that I bought for them sitting ready on the kitchen counter this morning.

I read the other morning of a child that was my mini-me's age when she started planting gardens to fed the hungry in her community.  I have read of young men that go around their neighborhoods mowing lawns for elderly neighbors - not for pay - out of love and respect.

I fear that in making life too easy, we've taken away the joy that laboring can provide.  That escape. Most of the people I know that are filled with love and happiness in life have "hobbies" (yep, that is what we seem to call what used to be life skills) that somehow tie back to doing for others.  Even the simplest acts.

Well, I guess I've allowed my brain to wander around these thoughts too long.  I need to get busy with the things that I want to do, the things that keep my hands from being idle, my brain from being stagnate, and my soul filled with the love and beauty that it needs. I really have spent the past week refilling my own bucket.

I've needed it.  Are you a doer?

waiting...

It's 2:24 am.  I've barely slept.  In fact I think I might have napped.  My heart feels like lead.  The worry is wearing me down.  I'm a mix of love, joy, anxiety, fear and a million other things that now is not the time to delve into.

So much has happened in the past week.  Culminations.  The past 20 hours, definite culminations.  I'm stuck in a do I stay, do I go spot.

The mom in me... she's screaming.  Tearing out my hair and causing me to feel like I want to throw up.  If you aren't a parent, you cannot imagine this feeling. As a parent I cannot imagine it. It's been 30 minutes since I called to check on my child. 30 minutes since I was told I would get a call back.  I wasn't asking for anything except for reassurance.

If I go will I be turned away?  Will I be stuck standing in a cold hallway still waiting for answers?

Life is funny like that.  It's brutal like that.

I wish I could be cold.  I wish sometimes that I had the ability to turn my head and harden my heart. I don't have that ability.  So instead...

I'm envious of the gentle snores I am hearing from Hubs and the boys.

Why can't I be a bit more pragmatic?

I should have known when I was told "...text you..."

There is a time, a place, and a reason for everything. I try so hard to understand and respect that.

I suck at it.

I hate that I can sometimes see things far too clearly.  This is one of those times.  Where the clarity is wrapped around a huge bubble of haze. Words, thoughts and actions are dancing around in my head and in my heart.

It feels like a giant ball of sharp glass.  It's painful and beautiful all at once.

I'm prayerful.

the end of perfection...

one last peaceful day starts...

It's been over 36 hours since the world tilted on it's axis for us.  Yesterday was probably the hardest day for me to witness.  It hurt me to watch the boys coming to terms with their Daddy's death.  Watching my girls, that killed me.

I was so blessed yesterday.  Even though I knew what I was hiding from a sweet little princess, she didn't. I work with an incredible group of individuals and because of that I was able to spend the last day of my grand baby's innocence with her.  While Mommy and Grandpa dealt with the horrors and sorted out the bits and pieces of death.  I was able to love, spoil and enjoy a Gramma and Grand Baby day.

I had the wonderful gift to protect and prolong the perfection of her childhood.  We giggled, laughed, created, walked, talked, dreamed and schemed.  All the things that my angel loves to do we did.

Might have missed this cake before...

We went to the doctor for her little ear, she is so mature and was able to answer all the questions a Gramma didn't know.  She was so patient as we waited for over an hour.  We schemed that she would be able to miss school for the day (yes, I already knew she wasn't going regardless, but she didn't).

Without knowing how long things would take for Mommy, not knowing how long she got to be untouched by the sadness that was coming, I planned a full and busy day.

Being silly with Scarlet

Being cute with Scarlet

She picked lunch... Doritos taco's at Taco Bell... she discovered she loves Dr. Pepper Vanilla Freezes and the cinnamon balls they serve and I indulged her just a bit more than I normally would have.

After a fun, silly lunch we headed home.  She let Gramma catch a quick cat nap while she enjoyed her cartoons (I'd had about 2 hours of sleep the night before and it was catching up). Thirty minutes later and we were back on the run.

Walking Gator on a crisp afternoon

We walked the boys together, my little old man is so gentle and calm with her.  They enjoyed the extra time in the cool weather that seemed to come rushing in with the tragic loss.  I enjoyed listening to her talk and share with me her hopes and dreams.  I almost started crying on that walk.

Tears threatened as she shared how much she loved her brothers and missed seeing them.  At that point it was still up in the air where they would stay.  I know my sweet girl was willing and able to have them move in with her and baby girl, but they do have a mother of their own.  I was praying they would stay with my girls, but fearful that they would be heading back to Washington.  That story is so deep and twisted that it breaks my heart...

I heard last night they will be heading back west, my heart is so sad.  My little angel will lose her Daddy and her brothers... sometimes I feel that people don't think of all the things that matter. Sometimes I feel adults are very selfish.  Those boys have lives here now, they have girl friends, friends, hopes and dreams...

We found the first red leaf of fall during our walk.

Fall was on it's way, ushering all of the changes in her world with it.

When Grampa called... I knew our timeline.  So we headed off to the store.  Chili needed to be made and she was certain her mommy needed caramel apples.  She didn't know what mom had been busy with, but she was certain that she needed caramel apples to give her energy for the rest of the day.

Wrapping apples takes a lot of concentration...

Did they really think this was easy?

The angel and I spent the remainder of the afternoon being domestic.  While I made the chili for dinner, she worked on the bird house for Scarlet (her mechanical bird). Her creativity and artistic nature fills my soul with positive energy.  As soon as she finished that, I washed and dried her apples and she prepared the caramel apples.  The wraps make it so simple and she was able to read the directions and complete the task without my interference. It was truly a gift of love from her to her Mommy.

Caramel Apples for the family

She was so happy when her brothers walked in with Mommy... she didn't seem surprised at all. She simply turned to me and said "Gramma we need to make two more caramel apples".  She'd made 5, one for each of the people she'd expected.

She'd needed a stuffed hello kitty while we were at the store, I wasn't sure why.  But I said okay, how do you tell a princess no, especially when you are guarding them against a horrible truth. I found out why when Mommy showed up.  She'd given it to mommy... without knowing why she knew mommy needed love and protection.

As we crowded around the dining room table, in between piles of boxes still needing opened and emptied, that little angel willingly gave up chair after chair to be surrounded by her family.  I was still in the kitchen, fixing a different kind of noodle for the boys - who preferred their chili mac with elbow noodles, when she came out to get a kitchen stool.  Telling me I would need to bring one for myself when I came out.

At one point she put both of her little hands on either side of her youngest brother's head and laughingly placed a big kiss on his forehead - that image is going to be in my memory forever! Right beside the sight at the other end of the table where her mommy's heart melted and eyes filled with tears at the same time - she knows the deep love those three share, she knew the pricelessness of that kiss...

She's ready to tackle the world!

A short time later, the world changed for that princess.  When we arrived at her home, she noticed both of Daddy's dogs, she had to have seen her brother's belongings... today in a clearer head, I realize she knew all day that something was going on, that we were keeping her in the dark about something.  She'd asked about him twice before we arrived back at her house. She probably thought Daddy had managed to end up in jail again, he had a rebellious streak that often ended him up in trouble. That was something she was aware of.

Instead of focusing on all of the things unusual around her, she focused on the bags of clothes I had brought over with me the night before for her and mommy to look through.  Things that predated the phone call.  She knew...

She knew mommy was waiting to talk to her, she knew...

As she sat in mommy's lap, as she waited to hear what was going on, her goofy little smile looked so much like her Daddy's... it wasn't a happy smile, it was something different.

In an instant I watched her world change.  I watched my sweet daughter, who's faced more challenges than most of us will see in a lifetime, find strength once again that I didn't know she had.  Calmly, gently, in the softest of voices she told that baby the truth, pure and unvarnished.

The night before, when we'd picked up the boys I'd noticed that Daddy had a strip of pictures of them on the fridge.  I'd taken it off and brought it with us... something told me she would need it.  As Grampa and I prepared to leave, we couldn't help as much as we would have loved to, Momma had it, and she was all the angel needed, I brought it in.

I had planned to leave it on the table, for momma to give her when she felt it was right.  I felt intrusive.  My girls and the youngest of the boys were cuddled together supporting each other as only they could do. Momma asked me to bring it over and when she handed it to the angel she clutched it to her chest, sobbing and but lovingly.

My heart is literally shredded.  Thinking of the pain my girls and the boys are going through is unbelievable.  I know there are thousands of parents and children dealing with these things daily.  My heart goes out to them, but they are not my kids, this has never entered into our world.  This is not something I even know how to understand...

It's true a child should expect to outlive their parents, as every parent wants to be the case, but it's so cruel and horrible for a child to not have their parent as they grow...

In time it will heal, the scar will remain, but it will heal...

peace, quiet and bird songs...

I will miss these quiet mornings.  I am sitting outside on the patio, listening to the birds.  There is one in particular that I have grown quite fond of.  I don't know what it is, I can't see it out of the windows or from the patio.  It is a hauntingly beautiful call, loud, but not shrill.  It seems to only call in the wee hours of morning, before the sun has agreed to wake up. It echos through the garden outside the apartment, soft, deep, with a beautiful melody.  That alone could convince me this is a great place to be.  As the sun breaks over the horizon and the smaller birds start singing, it stops, the void left is so noticeable.

I probably won't hear it tomorrow, as by that time of the day we will be at the airport, not sitting outside sipping tea and listening to bird songs.

It's odd, the sheer number of people here yet it is so much greater than where I live.  I have no idea how many live in this apartment complex alone, and yet it is so quiet, so peaceful and so beautiful.  The stucco walls must be amazing isolators of sound, or maybe they simply respect the silence and beauty much more.

In a week I have not once heard people driving down the road with music blasting, walking the beach involved no profanity.  And the only homeless people I saw were in Hollywood.  And not one of them followed me down the street harassing me.

I guess my jaded mid-west mind set was incorrect.  Sure gas is more expensive, but only by about thirty cents, the apartment was more than I would want to have to pay, but honestly... there are many apartments in the mid-west that are equally as expensive and not as nice. I guess it is a trade off.

At home... we would love to be considered diverse, but honestly, we are not.  We grate and grind against each other, our cultures, beliefs, the way we talk, the way we raise our children, the way we simply exist. I have had dear friends ask me to not go into certain neighborhoods out of fear.

Sitting with the Grand baby by the pool yesterday, just in this one little apartment complex, I heard so many different languages, dialects, accents, everyone from the business professional in full three piece suit to the surfer guy and his son.  Old, young, everything in between.  Everyone was so kind to each other, smiling and saying hello, it was so much like what I am used to, the way that I grew up.

Makes me wonder just what everyone at home is afraid of.  The boy had his hair cut yesterday, Bertha was definitely not German, even with a German name.  She was a wonderful woman of Hispanic descent.  I am enjoying this melting pot.  I am loving the vast differences and the single common denominator, everyone is human.

The boy told me that here everyone kind of stays to themselves, at the end of a busy day they go home and spend time with their friends and families.  It sort of seems that way.  I am sure there are people here that aren't friendly, of course it isn't a utopia, but if they aren't they are discrete about it.

Maybe I didn't go into the historically "bad" neighborhoods.  I admit I haven't been hanging out in Compton or any of the others.  Hollywood was the worst neighborhood I was in.  And it is not nice.  For an area of over 3.8 million people, there seems to be more nice, caring and kind people than I expected.  It will be hard to leave in the morning.  I have enjoyed the time with my boy.

While I will miss him, I will leave knowing he is in a good place.  I will take peace with me.

Because Freedom isn't Free...

If you love your freedom, thank a Veteran!  And not just today, but every day.  Men, women, and service animals have been serving this country since it's very inception.  They have put their own lives and liberty on the line for us.  It is due to their loyalty to our very beliefs that we are the people that we are. 

I am quite proud to know that I come from a long line of people willing to lay their lives down for their country.  For my country.  I always knew that dedication to service goes back at least a few generations, but I did not realize how far back until I started digging through Ancestry.com and also talking to my family and Hubby's.

My Dad, my grand-Dad's and even further back, my Hubby, my ex, many uncles, cousins, in-laws and nephews so many have proudly stood watch and protected us. 

I struggle with the future, I struggle with our current administration and where we are going.  When I look back at the proud past,  it bothers me that for future generations it might not be such a proud and noble choice. 

My Hubby's uncle passed away on foreign shores on his birthday October 11, he died protecting our freedom.  Every time I see his gravestone, it rips at my heart.  I have an uncle buried at Arlington.  And across the street from where I am sitting now is a WWI memorial. 

When we lived in Europe, I took my son and did many memorial walks.  We've walked Normandy beach, Bastone (the location of the Battle of the Bulge), and stood at the Luxembourg Memorial honoring General Patton, I proudly stood there with the young men that I was guiding through their history.  My pride in the American men and women never wavering. 

I have had the honor of watching our young scouts walk through a WWI cemetery in France to honor our American soldiers laid to rest after serving.  Participated in many memorials around this world. I have had so many wonderful opportunities to participate in and witness the reverence and respect our veterans have earned.

Today as I sit here, there are no words that will describe my gratitude to all those that have taken the oath to serve us.  Because of all those unselfish individuals, I can sit here and type the words that enter my mind.

In 1791 our Bill of Rights was signed.  Generations have defended those rights and they continue to do that today.  It's powerful.

Our Veteran's deserve to be cherished and deserve our eternal gratitude.  From the E-1 fresh from boot camp to the highest ranking officers, thank you!  Thank you for answering the call of your counrty.  To insure we are forever a free and grateful nation.  Thank you for putting your own needs aside. 

And thank you to their families.  As a military dependent and spouse, I can honestly tell you there were many times that I wanted my Daddy to be home, but had to wait.  There were times I did not want to be a married single mother.  There were many times that I sat in fear, listening to the news, waiting for a phone call or letter.  There were times that I hated having to share my loved ones with the needs of the world.  That is sometimes very hard to accept. 

Each time one of the children I've known takes the oath to protect us, I feel overwhelmed with pride and fear.  Several of those young men that I have stood on those historic battle fields and military cemeteries with has now served our country on battlegrounds of their own far from home.  I am blessed that thus far all have come home.  I cannot even fathom the pain for those who did not return.

Many of my classmates have served, this is probably not surprising considering I am a "military brat", a title we claim proudly!  Even today, more people I know have served or serve than not.  And I am a full decade away from that life. 

My sweet Hubby served so long ago.  Long before our lives intersected, back when it was far from popular for our young men and women to do so.  Probably more so because we knew not what we were fighting for and because it seemed we were dooming our men and women simply for a political game.  Despite it all he signed up, he wasn't drafted (he joined the military because he was tired of his mother telling him what to do - probably not the best reason to join the military - guess no one told him how much they were going to tell him what to do!).

I cannot begin to tell you how proud I am of his determination to thank everyone that has served and is proud enough of that service to wear a hat, vest, or even simply have veteran plates.  My sweet Hubby walks up to complete strangers and always thanks them for their service.  He proudly wears his Vietnam Veteran hat and shares his stories with all his brothers and sisters.  I usually stand silently by, so proud, but not intruding.  Because I cannot understand what they are sharing, I wasn't there. 

Last night, was one of the very few times that I have ever heard anyone thank him for his service without him saying something first.  In that tiny little diner, a man eating with his mom and son, took one look at Hubby's hat and without hesitation reached out his hand and thanked my sweet Hubby for his service.  I know it doesn't happen often, and though he didn't say it, I could see the look of sheer gratitude in those soft blue eyes. 

I am the wife, daughter, grand-daughter, niece, cousin, sister-in-law, aunt, friend and much more to Vet's, and I am so proud to be able to say that!

Thank a Veteran, they have given so much, it's the least they deserve!

Prayers for loved ones...

Well... hello... I missed everyone!  I am so sorry that I have been away so long.  Seems that this particular week has been the toughest I have dealt with in a long time.  Brain fog is no fun, and it's hard to keep a consistent thought going strong.

It's been an emotional roller coaster, a time of serious thought about the changes I am finding in me, and it's all been in a blur.

As it gets progressively colder here in the Mid-west and the beautiful tapestry of colors that surrounds us is fading into a rich deepness with the bare branches shining through more and more.  I am finding myself praying harder for family and friends that I love. 

One dear friend lost her father-in-law to cancer, she'd lost her husband to it just over two years ago.  Another one came and told me he lost a cousin earlier in the week to the same. Another on Facebook is helping her father struggle through his treatments. Another dear friend told me there was mention of ovarian cancer... that about sent me off the deep end!

Cancer is insidious and it is amazing to me, that in this world of ours we can't spend more time learning to defeat it at every turn.  I am sure the knowledge exists and I am sure the funding exists.  We can build machines to send people into space, we are creating microbots, and still it is growing. Claiming more lives like a giant monster!

Why?  Is it a big money maker for pharmaceutical companies?  Do we really not value human life?  And please do not get me started about the disaster that is Obamacare!  Because I for one know what it feels like to pay a large amount for my healthcare (by choice) to lose all my doctors in one fell swoop.  I have to start from scratch again.

I am concerned that our country and others simply don't care.  They are focused on things that will make a few rich beyond words, and they will get the elite medical care, and they will get the best of everything.  And the rest of us... who cares.

We can't cure cancer?  Why not!!  I wish more people would demand it!  I am sure that we can, I am equally sure there is a reason that we aren't. And I just don't get it.  You give money to charities to help a cause, but how much really ends up going to research?  I used to be a huge supporter of the Komen Race, it started as such a powerful fundraiser for something important to me.  Now more of the money raised goes towards the events and less and less is going to the research.

I hear where our government and huge corporations have grants available for the study of every stupid thing on earth.  And I do mean stupid... who cares what earthworms do? Lets focus on stopping cancer, and then work our way through the rest of the illnesses that are wiping us out. 

And I am not just saying that about cancer.  It's just been one heck of a week of it! I firmly believe that our "solution" to most medical issues is to throw increasingly expensive medicines at it, to mask it, but not cure it. 

I know for myself personally, I decided over a decade ago, that I was not taking the "prescribed" course.  I wasn't living a medicated life.  Strangest thing... I stopped and started to get "better". This week is a solid reminder that it isn't cured.  But 90% of the time, I am able to forget.  I will take that. 

This leads me to a dilemma... are we truly trying to cure anything?  Or are we using it as a way to control population? Is that why our government really wants control of our healthcare?  Or do they truly care that people are suffering?  Because all people have always had access to health care, it was their choice how they received it.

I need to say another set of prayers this morning.  I hope that if you are a prayerful person you will be kind enough to include my dear friends in your daily prayers.  Regardless of your beliefs, I believe in a very powerful God, one that has already laid out the plan and is in complete control!  I am aware that not everyone feels that way, but if you are a believer in anything more powerful than us, please keep them in your thoughts and prayers.

Warning... This is a Rant!

"This world keeps spinning faster to a new disaster"... Those words from a song are playing through my mind this morning.  I am worried about my country.  I am worried about the path we as a people are on, and I am more worried about the folks that simply don't want to pay attention.

I try very hard not to be political.  I don't sign up to campaign, I don't donate to politicians and I have a pretty firm belief in keeping an open mind.  I realize that not everyone shares my views, just as I don't share the same as the rest of the world.  That is what is so incredible about living in this country, we can all have our own ideas, beliefs, thoughts, etc and in practice we all work together to come up with a solution that we can all agree to live with.

I am doing a lot of research lately.  I don't trust the news media, they really lost me completely when the Two Million Bikers ride to DC in honor of all that lost their lives on September 11th garnered very little coverage.  Thank you Fox News for the few minutes you gave it, even though you couldn't get enough of Miley Cyrus acting like a fool on national television. The rest of the news media was simply crickets, sheer silence.  When the D.C. traffic camera's showed snow on the ground and empty streets why did our new media not step it up and ask the hard questions?

Oh I could go on for hours about the sickening fear so many in this country have. I hate to watch press conferences because they need to be renamed briefings.  Because that is what they are. No one is brave enough to ask the bullies at the podium what the country wants, needs and has a right to know.  They wouldn't dream of making them sweat!

I miss the days of news reporters that were willing to stand up, dig for the truth and report it.  Not caring about their popularity.  Not being bullied by politicians and others in control.  I miss the days when we were informed - at least a little bit.  Gotta say I was never really thrilled when they would go on for days about this one's prostate, or that one's sibling that had a problem with alcohol. 

I miss that we the people cannot be truly informed anymore.  I hate hearing the American people being called sheeple, but sadly that is what we are becoming.  A nation being led to slaughter, not a nation begin led by people that represent us and our wishes. 

I used to identify with one political party, I can tell you, I do not identify with either any longer.  They are basically the same.  Money and power hungry people that do not care who they destroy to get what they want.  Oh there are a few that care, there are a few that are fighting the good fight. But I fear it is too few to matter at this point.

I have spent my life in countries like what the politicians are trying to create here.  They are great countries, full of great people, but I never wanted to live like that.  Benjamin Franklin said "those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety". He said those words way back in 1759.  That was 254 years ago.  Those words are just as true today. Maybe more so...

I haven't researched it yet and I chose not to believe a single source as information, seems a lot of stuff was happening in our nations capital this weekend.  I want to know why when I turned on the news last night, all that was playing was reruns of the normal weekend shows.  When the newscaster closes with see you again next Saturday, and it is Sunday, I simply have to believe that its not current.  At one point I even heard that internet signals and news feeds were being blocked. We don't do that in America.  We are a free people, and the right to free speech does not simply cover the people that want to publish porn and make vile movies.  It applies to all speech!

I am worried... I am afraid that we the people are heading down a very slippery slope.  That maybe, just maybe we have gone too far to come back up.  That we are letting a few people decide what is best for all of us, because we simply don't want the responsibility. 

I got a letter in the mail this weekend, telling me that I could no longer use my primary care doctor.  In fact, seems I spend a lot of money each month for insurance for my entire family and it's pretty much worthless. No doctors or hospitals want to accept it, and getting an appointment was already challenging in this area due to the fact that I live in one of two "lawsuit" capitals in the country. Doctors flee from this area in droves due to the extremely high cost of malpractice insurance and the huge odds of being sued. 

I completely agree we need healthcare reform.  Or maybe it is simply insurance reform.  But I do not agree that the government needs to run it... sorry folks... had government ran healthcare my whole life... boy are we in for a treat. I just happen to think the IRS is not an agency that has any business in anyone's healthcare, and that what is between me and my doctors is private.  I am so happy for our President and his cronies that they got their 2000 plus page bill on healthcare reform, my only question... why didn't anyone read it first? Something that impacts millions should never have been passed first, read later.  It should have been written, researched, studied, debated, discussed with the American people, revised and then repeat the whole process over until it was what we all agreed was good for all of us.  True we would never have complete agreement, but when included in the debate far more will support something that they don't completely agree with.

No one should be without healthcare, true, but everyone has always had the right and ability to purchase health insurance for themselves.  If you decide not to, that is not the responsibility of the entire country.

I am worried.  At what point do these transformations stop, when do we no longer look like ourselves?  When we look in the mirror do we still see American's?  Is our ability to dream still out there?  We are deliberately becoming uniformed, history is being rewritten and fed to our children, we were one of the leaders in education, now our children cannot compete on the global market.  Our kids struggle to get accepted into colleges in our own country, because they cannot compete academically with children from Asia and India.  We are succeeding in creating a lot of GenEd students, and not high academics, why is that? We value the wrong things in this country anymore, and it is terrifying!!

I have often heard Hubby say I am glad I am at the age I am.  Meaning that he won't have to see what we become.  It frightens me.  Because our children and grandchildren will. 

I don't believe that most of the American population fits into the tiny little boxes the politicians want us to.  I talk to friends that are devout democrats and I marvel at how much their beliefs fit mine.  I talk to friends that refuse to vote, because in their minds the lessor of two evils is still evil, and again they align pretty clearly with my beliefs.  I have friends that are far wealthier than I will ever be and I have friends that are struggling daily to survive.  They are every imaginable race, creed and gender.  They are all simply American's.  And the stuff I hear on the "news" - or propaganda machines - does not reflect our hopes, dreams, goals and plans.

We the People are good, strong, hard working, compassionate, loving, caring, devoted to home and country, nurturing, intelligent, giving, determined.  We are uplifting, empowered, and we will always be there for our fellow man.  We never needed the government to control or enslave us.  Not with excessive rules to justify their existence or "aid" to insure our bondage.  Long before the government found they could enslave us, we were insuring that we all took care of each other.  That is what made us the greatest country in the world.

Today... I am worried! I hope that my friends, family and neighbors know that I will always do everything I can to support and help you through this life.  I believe that is what humans do.  Whether the government is there or not, I will be. I will bring my skills, my labor and my love to the table in a time of need, whether large or small.  I pray that I can count on them to do the same.

I am worried that our country is broken, that we have inadvertently created a ruling class that makes it almost impossible for us to thrive and grow.

The optimist that I am hopes that We the People wake up.  That We the People find the strength and courage of our convictions and work together to heal our once great nation.  I am proud of the bikers, veterans, and truckers that are standing up... I hope before long We the People stand together and reclaim what is ours.

Take me back to yesterday...

"Grampa tell me 'bout the good old days"... that was running through my head this morning when Hubby and I went riding.  We used to always go down the road just a mile, it was into the country.  We would find a nice spot of the road, usually near the intersection.  It was always so peaceful there watching the sun rise over the fields. If we were lucky we would see some deer prancing around the fields.

This morning... I felt such strong sadness.  Hubby and I kept looking for a peaceful spot.  A spot without the harshness of lights, no traffic, just a quiet spot to sip our coffee and enjoy the sunrise. 

Sadly, they are all gone.  We will have to ride much further out to escape the spread of houses, to not see the beautiful fields and farms up for sale, now zoned commercial. A non-stop blur of houses and traffic.  Street lights everywhere. 

We spent the whole weekend simply riding and enjoying each others company.  We found nooks and crannies that seemed left behind.  We took a road simply based on it's name... Hog Hill... We came across horse and buggy warning signs.  Ate at a Mexican restaurant that had a great mural of Popeye and Olive Oil, actually ran across our nieces' grandparents while we were there.  Funny!  We never run across them in town, but 70 miles away... there they were. 

Today, I simply felt sad.  So many empty houses, shops and store fronts.  Instead of using those, they just keep tearing up more farm land.  More of the precious peace we all truly need just disappearing.  It was heart breaking!

It really made it hard to enjoy our coffee... but we sure tried!

We needed it.  Our five days were over.  We were needing to be grounded, it was time to go back to work, to put play time behind us. 

There is so much stress in the world.  I am torn with all the stuff going on around the world.  I am distressed that our President wants to commit us to war.  I don't believe it is a war we should be involved in.  Yes it's an atrocity, but it isn't our atrocity.  I have too many young men and women that I know and love that are serving this country.  I don't want them in harms way for something we shouldn't put our nose in. 

There are still so many people that are hurting financially, and it breaks my heart.  Yesterday when we stopped in this small town for water, Hubby struck up a conversation with this young couple and their kids.  The husband was so sweet and the woman smiled so much.  My heart broke to watch him go in to pay for that gas with a ziplock bag of change.  They were going to a family event, and had to pay for their gas with change.  I went to go inside and "pay it forward", as the cashier had made him wait until all the other customers had left as he was paying with change.  This upset me, I wanted to give them a gift.  Hubby completely backed me up on this, but sadly I didn't get in there soon enough.  I would be so happy to hear they won the lottery today... so deserving...

I need the peace that hubby finds while we ride together.  I love that restfulness... I want the good old days... I want a few less bright lights, a bit more moonlight.  Less congestion and more open spaces... I want more peace, less conflict. 

I need the good ole days...