Writers aren't exactly people, they're a lot of people trying to be one person. F.Scott Fitzgerald

Monday, August 29, 2011


My granddaughter spent the night with me this past weekend.I had promised her that after I moved into my new apartment she would be my first overnight guest(probably my only sleep over guest).I had very little money to take her to her favorite McDonalds or to buy her a new toy,so we explored the apartment complex,sat out on my small patio and watered my plants.
I watched her explore my apartment and discovered my Star Trek collectable figures and all of my stuffed animals that she played with when we all lived together,before her parents separated and her dad filed for divorce.We ate ice cream cones and watched movies just like we used to.
We looked at all of the family pictures hanging on my walls.She had forgotten who many of the people were.We discussed who they were and who was living and who were in heaven. I watched her touch things and listened as she told me how we had played with this toy or she remembered seeing that item in my room. Her huge blue eyes missed nothing and we talked about some of the things she remembered about our times together in Alaska and how she missed her friends and the things we used to do together. I told her I missed those things too,but we could do new things together here.
At bedtime she asked for a story,not a story from a book,but one I made up,just as I have with all my children and continued the tradition with her. Half way through story she told me she would finish it.I was surprised and a little disappointed until I realized she was carrying on the tradition and would be telling her future children and grandchildren stories one day.
I know I started this tradition many years ago with my children but only my youngest daughter,my granddaughter's mother,Mali, had carried on the tradition but being Mali, she had put her own spin on the stories by having the princess every bit as strong as the handsome prince.
Managing to sit through the end of the story with my tears un-shed and a lump in my throat,I tucked her into her sleeping bag,made sure she had her bottle of cold water beside her bed,told her our traditional goodnight phrase "Sleep tight and don't let the bedbugs bite" and left the room.
I walked around my apartment and looked at it,not with my adult eyes,but with the eyes of a child,the precious child sleeping in my bedroom. I began to see what I imagined she would see.Items that she remembered were still here,I was still here. Continuity and stability in her little world that had been turned upside down by her parents separation and pending divorce and living part of the time with her momma and part of the time living with her father.
My apartment was an oasis of the past in the midst of so many changes and I was still here.

Later that night I stood over my granddaughter's sleeping form curled in her sleeping bag with her favorite stuffed animal,Floppy Puppy,in her arms and gazed at her peaceful, lovely little face.Yes the tradition would carry on and I would live on as long as she remembers me,her Ga Ga, and some,if not all, of the good times we had together.
I walked around my apartment and looked at it throught the eyes of a child I closed my eyes and when I opened them I looked around me with the eyes of a child
I walked out on my patio and stood there,looking up at the faint stars.How could I forget to look through the eyes of a child and see all of the magic around me.
I have been blessed and will treasure each and every memory of our life together just as I have with all of my children and the other grandchild I have been privileged to know. I regret the grandchildren I will never know and who will never know me,but life does not always go as we wish or hope it does and this beautiful precious child,Azalynn, is enough.
All of my hardships and all of the grief melted away as I realized how truly blessed I am for the wonderful life I have been given.I don't know how many more years I will be given ,but I intend to be thankful for each and every day.

If I forget to look through the eyes of a child and see the magic all around me,I am confident Azalynn will remind me and I will strive to deserve the love she has shining in her eyes for me.

Friday, August 12, 2011


The tango is a fiery,emotional sexy dance.The passion of the couple explodes, seduces,caresses in a dance of love,hate and living life! Why you may ask am I comparing paying bills to this sensuous dance.Well,think about it? We dance with joy and passion spending money on things we love and desire,things that give us pleasure in the moment.Most of us love to spend money on pleasure and spending it on bills usually brings up strong emotions and most of those emotions and feelings are not happy ones.
Unfortunately,paying bills is a fact of life and an inescapable evil, especially if one has to rob Peter to pay Paul. If the money isn't there the dance can be a nightmare instead of a satisfying experience. I have to admit there are times my attempts at a Tango turn into a square dance or a very slow moving waltz.Gotta go now and face the music.
Anyone know how to stretch $200.00 bucks to cover $500.00 in bills?

Sunday, August 7, 2011


WEll,I asked for it and I got it! Years ago I craved being alone.All alone in my own home,able to do what I wanted and when I wanted to do it.Now don't get me wrong I loved my husband and my four children,but life was hectic with a full time very stressful job as a neonatal unit RN working twelve hour shifts,7pm to 7am.
My dream was to live in a cozy remote mountain cabin,with my dog and horse. of course I would have plenty of money to ride into town for supplies when I needed them.My own generator,my own power supply and well,etc.My cabin would be spacious and cozy and I would have a reliable vehicle for transportation to the nearest town.
I never got my remote cabin,but I did get the dog,horse and reliable transportation. Now I have an apartment of my own,no pets,no horse and no one to share my life with.
Being all alone is not as wonderful as I thought it would be.There is No One to rely on when there is a problem except myself. No to hold me when I am lonely or scared.
I find that I miss hugs, kisses, holding hands and making passionate love to a man,my man. I miss sharing my life with someone who loves me as much as I love them.So many of the things I used to take for granted and spurn when I had them ,I miss terribly. Silly ,corny jokes,family holidays,outings,pizza night, family dinners and just sharing laughter,tears, arguments, and my life with someone.
The idea of that remote cabin and being blissfully alone to do whatever I wanted to do sounded great in theory. The operative word here is THEORY. Living it is not necessarily so. I am not whining and my life isn't all bad,but it is not as full and rich as it once was.
So my friends be very careful what you wish for.Because, as I have shown,you just might get more than you bargained for.