In response to my last post, Kristin wrote: I question my faith when I hear stories like this. How can a caring and loving God do that to an innocent child? How? Trevor is in my prayers.
She touched on something I have thought about numerous times and have even thought to blog about but have deferred. Deferred because it touches on the deepest mystery of our lives – why are we here?
Another question along that same line is: Why do bad things happen to good people and vice versa?
I don’t have an answer for that, only a theory.
I am a woman of faith. Its not a mainstream faith and although I have blogged about religion and my religion, this touches a bit deeper and transcends many faiths.
Kristin’s question I can answer in my own way. Its not scientific at all. Its based on what I’ve read, what I’ve experienced, and something deeper within myself which is difficult to explain.
I’ve blogged about my experiences with spirits and they figure into it as well, and a bit of common sense.
First, no life is wasted on this Earth. While we may see people who have wasted their lives, their life has served a purpose. One theory is that our souls chose their experiences before they descend to Earth so as to gain more and more experience and eventually achieve “nirvana.” I can see this in people. The “old souls” and the “young souls.” I am an old soul yet have met souls older than mine. The young souls are annoying and naive. They’re easily lead and you just want to throttle them. That would be Nate.
And so you may say, “So, I chose to get cancer?” “I chose to have a special needs child?” I chose to be childless?” “I chose this life?” No. Your soul did.
Look back over your life and the things that have happened, either good or bad, which have changed you. I mean, really changed you. How did you grow? Do you still have growing to do?
Another theory is that we pick our parents, biological or not. Think about the process of finding out you will never have a biological child and then the process of adoption. What would one go through? How do people change and grow in these circumstances? What about the child? And his or her biological parents? How did they get where they are? What lessons came from that? Was the child given up at birth? Was the child in a foster family? What about that family? How was their lives changed by that child?
You begin to see the interconnectedness of our lives, our experiences, and how it shapes and molds us. How it guides us and how we learn and indeed, grow as human beings. Without these experiences, we would not grow or learn anything.
This is why I encourage people to face their lives this time around. Whatever mistake we have not learned from we are doomed to repeat. Ever meet someone like that? Who refuses to acknowledge mistakes they’ve made, people they’ve hurt, any culpability in damaging others? Its our responsibility to learn from them as well.
My experiences are varied and I stopped regretting the things I have done and instead decided to learn from them. To learn from the people in my life. How the relationships have affected me, changed me, and I’ve learned how to deal with loss. That is through faith.
I believe in a higher power. I believe that on the other side of the veil, lives those that I have loved. I was watching a dramatization of the life of James Van Praagh. In it, a man was in the hospital room, his living relatives around him when a golden retriever bounded into the room and he sat up in the bed and petted the dog and then got out of the bed and when he turned the corner, there were all of the people who had gone before him waiting on him, welcoming him to the other side. It brought tears to my eyes because, deep in my heart, in my mind’s eye, I know that’s what it will be like.
I’m not sure if any of that made sense or if you caught my drift.
Kristin, I can’t speak for God or any other higher being. I don’t believe that Trevor’s family sees it that way at all. When Trevor is gone, they won’t ask why God made Trevor the way he/she did, they will know why. They will be able to look at their lives and see how this little boy changed them, helped them grow, and showed them how to love unconditionally. And when Trevor crosses over, he will also know that despite his disabilities, the hardships and pain, that he made a difference in the lives he touched. Family, friends, doctors, nurses, social workers, and even you.
Whether any of you accept my explanation is, of course, up to you. But I hope I at least gave you something to think about.
Bobby is a man I know. He works on lawyer row as a maintenance man. That’s a generalized version of what he does and for lack of better wording this time of the night. Bobby is about 50 years old, has a daughter, Jess, a few years younger than me, and a grandson, Trevor, a few years younger than Nate.
Bobby did a double take on the street this morning when he saw me. Love his heart. He laughed and gave me a big hug. I asked about Trevor, as I always do. See, Trevor is special. He has cerebral palsy and has suffered debilitating seizures his entire life, at least up until a few months ago. Trevor has other medical issues as well, ones which I won’t go into here. He’s endured quite a few surgeries and right now his feeding tube is staying inflamed and ulcerated.
They’re going to put a tube down his nose and into his small intestine in an effort to get him stabilized and to gain weight. One of the many hurdles that little Trevor has faced in his short life. Bobby and I talked today about… letting go.
He said Jess had told him she just wasn’t going to allow them to operate anymore and she filled out a DNR, or Do Not Resuscitate order. Bobby’s voice broke as he related this to me and how difficult he knew doing that was for his daughter. The doctor has said he doesn’t want to have to do surgery anymore either because each time its taking longer and longer for Trevor to heal. He told Bobby that this may be the beginning of Trevor’s body shutting down. This is what they’ve been fighting against. I said that sometimes love means letting go.
Then Bobby related a story to me. He said he’s been doing outside work for a mechanic who is also working on Bobby’s four-wheeler and Bobby has been asking how much time it will take and how much it will cost. Finally, the gentleman told Bobby. It will take as long as it takes, and it will cost as much as it costs. It will be what it is, and there’s nothing you can do about it. He said that’s how he sees Trevor. It is what it is and what will happen, will happen, and there’s nothing he can do about it.
I’m confidant that Bobby, Jess, and Trevor’s doctors have done everything that is humanly possible for Trevor. They see to his needs, improve his quality of life, and most importantly, love him for simply being Trevor. Yet they also see … it may be time. They see that they are only mere mortals and that Trevor’s life and the lessons he has brought, have never been in their hands.
Trevor and where he and his family are right now reminds me of the Sarah McLachlan song – “Angel” and that’s where I’ll leave you tonight –
In the arms of the Angel far away from here
From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie
In the arms of the Angel; may you find some comfort here
You’re in the arms of the Angel; may you find some comfort here
Not lookin’ too good down there. My aunt lives about 20 miles Southwest of New Orleans and my cousin lives directly north of Lake Ponchartrain. They are currently, as of the last time we could get in touch with them, in Lafayette, or rather, on their way to Lafayette. I’m sure they’re wondering what they will come home to. As I stated before, my cousin just had gatric bypass on Wednesday. I’m sure she felt like fleeing a hurricane and then coming home to ????
The Peach Has Lost her Fuzz
Sounded downright dirty didn’t it? Inspired by Lois, I got my hair cut and am donating to Locks of Love. No, I don’t have any pictures right now because my son lost the batteries to the digi cam. Let’s just say… its short in the back and long in the front. Schexy Peach!
First Day of School
It poured the rain two minutes before we were supposed to leave the house. I have filled out the 400 forms and given my drop of blood. Nate is hyper!!! I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed.
Enter Rant Mode (apologies to Brighton and Tsarina)
I went today to finish getting my little Nate ready for school. I whipped out his handy dandy supply list.
$3 for his assignment book for the 1st semester. (Hrrmmmm)
Two composition books (black and white and sewn at the seams)
Wide-ruled loose leaf notebook paper (to go in the…)
Two-inch, three-ring binder with subject dividers
Pencils, pencil sharpener, and pencil pouch (can’t reuse that old pencil box from last year!)
Erasable blue or black pens
Highlighter (what for? He’s 9!)
Crayons (got a shitload of those)
Set of fat water-based markers (Why? I just got him crayons)
Set of colored pencils (Why? I just bought him crayons and fat markers)
Four folders (with pockets and 3 hole bindings) – but I just bought him a three ring binder…
Four single subject spiral notebooks (but I just bought him a three ring binder WITH dividers AND notebook paper!)
A dictionary for home to do homework – (dictionary.com… okay, okay, I actually do have a real dictionary and one for him as well)
A backpack or book bag (DUH! How the hell is he supposed to carry all of this shit?)
AND a box of sandwich-sized Ziploc baggies (She got generic)
So. All this shit. And in two days I’ll receive a note asking me to please remit my $3. By the end of the week, they’ll send a note home telling me how Nate wants to sharpen every pencil he owns. And by the end of the 2nd week, I’ll have a flyer (or two) for fundraisers. By the end of the month the PTA or PTO or LSIC or whatever the fuck they are, will want me to give them money to vote for stuff. And the teachers are already in an uproar because the Gov-nah has said, “No new raises for state employees right now… special legislative session, yada yada,” so they’ll want us to vote for a levy and then my property taxes will go up. By the end of the 2nd month, I’ll get THE NOTE stating that Nate doesn’t do this and Nate doesn’t do that, which has been documented since Kindergarten that he’s ADHD and documented since last year that he has a writing disability and they are supposed to make allowances for that but basically and the just of the matter is… I need to teach him at home.
NOW, WHERE THE FUCK IS ALL OF MY TAX MONEY GOING?
WHERE IS ALL OF THE FUCKING LOTTERY MONEY GOING? THE MILLIONS OF DOLLARS THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO SUPPORT EDUCATION? WHAT A CROCK OF SHIT!
And then, they’ll nickle and dime me to death over the Math-A-Thon, the Jump-A-Thon, the Walk-A-Thon, help pay for a school bus, $2 here, $3 there… Jebus H. Christ peeps, gimme a break!! Where are our PARTNERS IN EDUCATION?? Now you want my boxtops and soup labels???
You dumbasses!! I can’t afford to buy name brand shit now, you already took my money for everything else and I’M STILL THE ONE EDUCATING MY CHILD!!
I NEED A DRINK!!!
End of rant
Pray for our friends and family in New Orleans and the Gulf Coast. I’ve been trying to get through to my cousin, who just had gastric bypass surgery on Wednesday, to no avail. Looks like Seven has hit the dirty and dusty (soon to be flooded) trail northward and we wish you good luck.
Just another day in the damn neighborhood. If I had any less enthusiasm I would turn into a slug and leave a trail of slimey goo behind me. I’m editing/re-writing one of my novellas. I was reading the end of it today and I smiled. I love the ending. Its going to be extremely heavy on the re-write. But its going to be better.
I’m so very tired. But I’m not. I’m restless. How can you be tired and restless at the same time? Because my cat is meowing and irritating me? Because I want a huge thunderstorm to wash away all the shit I don’t want to deal with? Because I’m in love and he’s there and I’m here? Because I have a freakin’ tooth ache? Because my sinsuses are bothering me because the change of seasons is already on us? Because I can’t seem to sleep well, even in my own bed?
G-ddamnit people, its time to kick some ass and take some names. I can’t live in these doldrums. I HAVE to make something happen. I have to.
(This is a post I wrote a while back and never posted)
Inspired by Lois and her adventure with animals…
Hagar and I were talking about animals on our way to work one morning and he mentioned the fact I used to have an opossum which lived in my house. That would be Road Kill or ARK (Almost Road Kill). Holland had found little Road Kill on the highway. Probably he had fallen off of his mommy’s back. He fed him water from a pop lid and brought him home. I hand fed him for about a week until he started eating real good. When Holland got ready to move out, it was up to me to dump Road Kill wherever I could find a good spot. (Look, its Hagar! Dressed like … Hagar!)
By this time, RK is about 10 lbs. and, as opossums are, solitary. He was not happy as we dragged him out of his burrow (kennel) by his tail. I put him in the car with that day’s garbage (stale cereal, baked potato, day old lettuce, and the contents of his kennel). He hid under the seat of the car until we got out in the country (five miles) and I started yanking on his tail again. He decided it would be best if he clamored out on his own and off he went through the grass, just a chugging. Freedom!! I cried when I let that stupid thing go. RK did leave me one last gift though, which I made Holland clean up. (RK looked just like these cuties, except bigger.)
That started my love affair with opossums. They really are hardy creatures. And RK was so ugly he was cute. It was so funny to watch him suck the dropper dry of opossum “formula” and then when we petted him he would hiss. He hung upside down from Nate’s finger. I admired his fine pelt… wondering why peeps don’t make coats out of their gorgeous black and white fur. Hush. It was just a thought.
Well after Holland moved out, I heard a squalling from the front porch and went to check it out. A big opossum was squaring off against my cats. Opossums LOVE cat food. Love it!! My dad has bashed many an opossum skull for that very reason. Normally I don’t feed my cats on the porch but the trash can at the time was filled and ready for the garbage men. Mr/s. Opossum was looking for some grub when s/he was rudely interrupted by my felines.
Now, Hagar starts laughing really hard and says, “That must be the opossum that was in our laundry room.” Apparently, said opossum wanted their cat food and given their dryer vent is located directly above the edge of the deck, all it had to do was climb the deck, walk along the railing and squeeze itself into the duct work and out the other side. Naturally, when it go so far, the duct work pulled loose, allowing said opossum free reign over the cat food. Foiled again!!
Hagar’s felines were like mine. By the time TLC woke him up, the opossum was “treed” under the dryer by Cricket, which is Hermione’s sister. Hermione being my cat. (She’s also the aunt of Napoleon, Ireland and Lola.) Anyway, Hagar pokes it out from underneath the dryer with a broomstick and Mr/s. Opossum leaves, hissing all the way. (That’ s Hermione over there.)
Which lead Hagar to tell me a story about a friend of his who had a Rottweiler mix. The man heard a commotion in the yard and found the dog playing with an opossum. The Rottie/mix spent the better part of two hours tossing the poor opossum in the air and then shaking it like a rag doll, growling like the devil was after him the whole time. After the dog is finished, his friend goes to get a shovel to toss the opossum across the creek, where it can rot in peace. Surprisingly, while his friend is standing on the porch with the shovel, the opossum rolls over, shakes it head, and saunters off.
Some images were borrowed.
I’ve been depressed all day. Coming home didn’t do much to alleviate it either. I’m working on the house. Jeff was kind enough to give me some brown paint and I’m trying it out on my porch. So far, it look s good. Tonight I’m going to scrub the rest of the porch and get down to some serious painting. Tomorrow I’m going to Lowe’s to take a look at lattice to go around the bottom of the porch. The stuff I have is flimsy and broken in several spots.
I’m also looking into a new screen door, exterior paint (white), a ladder, and generally anything else that might make my house look better. I need to measure the living room and Gawd knows where my measuring tape is. I have hardwood floors but they look shitty.
I’m going to go outside and scrub around a little and paint a little and sit in the sun. Maybe I’ll feel a bit better. I didn’t sleep good last night so maybe tonight will be better.
I’ma bloggin’ drunk peeps. See, the local Vikings (Hagar and Co.) decided I needed a few beers since its 7800° F (88° F) at 9:30 and forced me to walk over there and throw a few back. We engaged in a game of Trivial Pursuit (I had 5 out of 6 pieces! YEAH!) which lead to some fascinating answers. Such as:
What maritime country has the smallest coastline of 3 1/2 miles?
Answers: Canada and Scotland
Correct Answer: Monaco
Who married Charles Lindbergh?
Answers: Jane Russell and Mrs. Lindbergh
Correct Answer: Anne Morrow
Who were the Three Musketeers?
Answers: (Porthos, Arthos, and Legalos) and (Porthos, Athos and Artemis) and (Charlie Sheen, Keifer Sutherland and that other guy.)
Correct Answer: Porthos, Athos, and Aremis
Who had to apologize for slapping Private Somebody Aruther Bennett?
Answers: Zsa Zsa Gabor and Jar Jar Binks
Correct Answer: General George Patton
Well, now its 82° and I’m going to take off my clothes and lay spread eagle on my bed and hope it pours the rain and stops being so fucking homid. That’s hot and humid together. Sue me. Or douse me with ice water. Whatever your preference.
Well, I’m slowly getting back in the groove. I had more travel delays yesterday on my way to pick Nate up. Oh. Joy.
So, on with my trip.
On Saturday, we met up with Jeanette and Tony for some R&R at Pho Republic, a great little Vietnamese restaurant. My food was excellent and everyone else seemed to like it as well. Jeanette even filled her food hump. My clay pot seafood wasn’t the same as what I’d had with Zelda and Jethro in Houston but it was still delicious.
Jeanette was exactly as I had imagined her. It was almost surreal being there, as it is at time when I actually get to meet bloggers. She has the absolute cutest dimples in the world. And were I taller I would definitely like to her put her in MY pocket and carry around her sunshine. We got the low down on her wedding details. Tony is a great guy and they are well matched.
We went to Disney and shopped. No, we didn’t go IN Disney but just went shopping. I was so glad just to be able to break bread with them, chat, talk to Trashman, who made a surprising appearance just as we were talking about him, (strange) and generally spend time and catch up with them. Its hard to get to know someone in a few hours, even if you do read their blog, but Tony and Jeanette were both very open and friendly. Just as you would imagine.
I wish you two the very best as you start your life together in … TWO DAYS!! ACK!!
Sunday, we caught up with AJ and Aimee in Santa Barbara. Having met Aimee and AJ already it was just great to catch up with them and talk and laugh and compare notes. AJ told a joke so funny that I almost spit my Cold Stone ice cream (best damn ice cream in the world) out of my nose. I haven’t laughed that hard at a joke in a very long time. He just told it so well. Gawd, wish you could have been there. Got to talk to Brighton as well. Was great to hear your voice, Trish!
Went to the beach, ate Cuban food, cooked our own food, had dinner with Mike’s friend Lyssa, toured Beverly Hills, got some killer cheese, watched “Finding Nemo,” and generally hung out and relaxed.
Relaxation was over once I got to Atlanta. Gah. You know about that. I could give you the run-down of everything I did in the time period I was there but its too painful to think about right now. No pictures of anything as I couldn’t find my camera. But, I’m sure Aimee, AJ, Mike, and Jeanette will fulfill your need for pics.
I have some other things going on related to the last post I did before my trip. I’m not going to post about it here. If you want the low-down, e-mail me at email@example.com and say, “HIT ME.” Fascinating commentary from my little slice of the world. Again, I’ll be around to your slice of the world as soon as possible.
And now, I’m going to bed. I just spent NINE AND A HALF HOURS AT THAT FUCKING AIRPORT IN ATLANTA (sorry I couldn’t get back to ya Regan).
I got to see Jeanette and Tony.
And Aimee and AJ.
And I talked to Trashman and Brighton.
And I almost got to see Regan.
Did I mention I just spent NINE AND A HALF HOURS AT THAT FUCKING AIRPORT IN ATLANTA???
I’m going to stretch out in my queen size bed and sleep in private… instead of slumped over my suitcase, snoring and drooling in front of 3,000,000 other displaced travelers in that FUCKING AIRPORT IN ATLANTA!
I had a short flight delay. Short being a relative term. Very relative.
Welcome back bloggers.