I had a dream about my mom last night. She passed away several years ago. Any dream of her is a treat, even when the news delivered is not fun, I still had the opportunity to be with my mom again.

I dreamed that she was helping me pack. It was not a great time. I was moving to a small efficiency apartment, for the rest of my conscious life. She explained to me that eventually, as I already recognize, I would be ‘discovered’ and moved to full care. Alzheimer’s disease is rampant in our family. I have suffered 4 severe concussions. I know my limits.

So, the dream was daunting. I finally saw my future and it was not great. A small efficiency. That meant a one bedroom, one bath, small fridge and small stove, small living room. I have been here before.

When my mom left my dad, she left with one suitcase. Many in my extended family have never understood this. We were a military family, living abroad. The military person controls everything in the family unit. My mom and dad had been married 26 years. She left with a suitcase. Her allowance was 40 pounds. Think about that. Everything they had acquired together was under his control. As I look at my bleak-seeming future, I sense her immense fear. My mom never faltered. In my eyes, in my brother’s eyes, she never faltered. Privately, I later learned, she cried into her pillow.

Once she left, she went to the city in which she had spent most of her life. She got 2 jobs. She lived at the YWCA. She took the bus. She walked to work. She saved every penny.

We would have appeared to others to be wealthy. We lived in a 4 bedroom, 3-bath house, based on my dad’s high rank. We had a housekeeper, a cook. At one location, we had had a housekeeper, a cook, a gardener, a repair-person, and a nanny, on staff. It depended on where you were stationed. Therefore, we had a pretty good life.

I joined her after a few months. Life with my dad had become difficult. She was thrilled. She bought me a ticket to fly from Europe to New York, to Florida. She met me in New York. I can only imagine the huge amount of money she spent for this. My dad did not help with the costs. He was angry that I was leaving. I had to leave.

When I arrived in New York, I had to clear customs alone, 13 years old. It was way over my head. My mom was standing in the upper levels of that most incredible terminal, JFK, watching, and dying for my inexperience. In those days, nobody helped kids alone on flights. Unheard of today but this was 1966. When we could finally embrace, it was lasting.

We got on a flight. Amazingly, it was an Eastern Airlines flight. I later flew for Eastern and had never put the two together. After a few years, my mom reminded me that we had come to Florida on Eastern. I just remember the flight attendant being so kind. We were in first class. Holy moly. The only tickets left on the flight. Mom not only had to pay to get me from Europe to the US, she also had to pay for 2 first class tickets to get us to Florida. A huge expense for a woman working 2 jobs, no car, no place to live.

We spent our first night in a relative’s home. The next day we moved into our own place. My nose could not have been higher in the air.

We lived in an efficiency apartment. It was dreadful. I had never, in my entire spoiled life, shared a bedroom. Now, my mom and I were sleeping together, in one bed. We had a small bathroom, a very small living room, and a ‘kitchenette’. I was blown away. I am sure I was not grateful. She had worked so hard to start a new life for herself, then to add me, at my request. She was killing herself to make something for us both, and I was haughty with disrespect. Spoiled.

I began high school where she and my relatives had gone to school. I walked. I had been driving in Germany, where you got a full international license when you were 14, so driving at 13 was not unusual. We were poor. I did not remember ever having been poor. As a teenager, in my junior year of high school, it was very hard to acknowledge this new life.

Women do it all the time. Women are bereft financially by divorce. It is a government statistic that women never fully recover from the devastation of finances after divorce, unless they re-marry, gaining financial stability. Incredible situation. It still exists.

My mother was killing herself working, walking, and paying for an apartment because I was not allowed to live with her at the YWCA. The sacrifices she made were lost on me. I was a junior in high school and suddenly poor. This did not bode well for me becoming popular. Spoiled.

When my mom retired, at age 52, she was almost a millionaire. She and my step dad had amassed a great retirement. She was a whiz at investments and she saved every penny. I appear to have inherited that trait and I am so grateful. They had no debt. They owned 15 acres and a custom home. They raised cattle and had an active solar home. It was 1978. She had done it without help from my dad. He kept all of their furnishings, all of their money. They split a piece of land. She did it alone. Grit and determination should be named Marguerite. She did it. When she married my step-dad, he had never owned a checking account. He lived on a cash basis, renting a room in a woman’s home. He and mom loved each other dearly. She was in charge of the finances and served them both very well.

On this day of our country’s independence, I think of my mother. I think of my future and the way she would have had no nonsense about my next step. Living in an efficiency apartment, a trailer, on your own terms has no shame. You have earned your independence. Embrace it.

I want to eat what I like
I want a drink when my long day is through
I don’t want to gain any weight
I want to look just the same as I do

I want to play in my garden
I want to watch “too much” tv
I want to fool with my computer
I never want to run out of money

I don’t want my parents to die

But I want to be brave if I must

I try not to obsess about so many things

But try as I might, it’s a bust.

So these are my hopes and my dreams

And I don’t think my list is that awful

My dreams run me crazy but I don’t really mind

’cause at least what I love is still LAWFUL!

Alexa

I’ve been thinking about my friends. Learning who your friends are is important. Your friends are people you can reach for when you need to lean. I recognize how fortunate I am to count so many.

I have many friends from my airline days. These men and women have been physically absent from my life for decades. If I need any one of them, they will  immediately respond. That is friendship. I just got a phone message from one. She lives in Atlanta. We haven’t seen each other in 25 years but stay in constant contact. Her husband had an affair. Then her next husband did the same. She is living on social security, close to the bone, after marrying with houses and investments. She is now bereft emotionally and financially. She is a wonderful friend to me. We have the same pain. However, we had such fun and wonderful memories. We laugh. Everyone needs to laugh. It reminds us to live and enjoy life. We are fortunate. Sometimes we just need to remember.

I have friends from so many neighborhoods where I had homes. Manhattan, Orlando, Miami, Boulder, Colorado Springs, St. Croix, Gainesville, Salem, Spokane, Nuremburg, Munich, Frankfort, Oberammergau, Ft Knox, Redstone Arsenal, and others that I can only remember vaguely. Incredibly, I still am in touch with friends from almost all of those locations.

Now I have many friends I have never met. They are all on Facebook. According to my profile, I have 176 of them. Amazing. These men and women know of my impending divorce, know I have a cat and recently lost one, know I live in Washington and know I love to write. They know I flew, they know I care. They are my friends.

If these friends were around me on a daily basis, I wonder how much they would still want to be my friend. Am I whiny, controlling, difficult, dumb, or boring? Who knows? The beauty of this group of friends is the instant connection we all know. If I need help, look to Facebook. My friends there will immediately rally. I have seen them come together as a force whenever needed.

I have a wonderful friend nearby. We never see each other. We plan, we swear, we promise, we mean well. It simply does not happen. Like me, she is recovering from an ‘indiscretion’ from her husband, the love of her life. As he has moved on with his mistress, she has had to pick up the pieces of their lives, sell their home, and find a new place to re-start, saying goodbye to so many memories and so much pain. We ‘get’ each other completely. She is about 1 year farther down my road. It helps me to see that. I remember when I learned of her pain. Now I recognize I was not supportive enough. We all just go through the motions of help and support. We do not necessarily tie that to our hearts when we should, as friends. My lesson came later. Gratefully, she has continued to be my friend in spite of my lapse.

This is friendship. We ebb and flow. We understand and forgive. On a daily basis, it might not work so well.

As we each move through our lives, some friends come and some simply stay forever. I am blessed with both. You need some of them for a bit of time. That time finally passes and the friend needs to pass with it. They did their job. You did yours. Time to move. Time to change.

A friend just called. Incredible. We have not spoken in so long. She just asked me to come for the weekend. I am going. What could be better than a weekend with one of your dearest friends?

We have so many and they are so willing to help.

I find myself surrounded lately by people who ‘enable’. What is happening here?

My hairdresser is enabling her son and his family. My younger cousins and nieces, nephews are enabling their children. My great attorney friend enables his kids, who have their own families. And if you ever watch something like ‘super nanny’,  or ‘wife swap’ you see constantly that families are afraid of their own kids, when it comes to discipline.

When that generation matures, who is going to give them this leeway?

I have a tendency to view these things in terms of pets. If you die, who will take care of your pet(s)? Just think for a moment. If you have pets, who will they go to if you are hit by a bus tomorrow? better make those plans. We never know what is coming around the next corner.

I have a friend who cooks her own pet food. I used to feed mine a raw diet. I have other friends who hand-feed their pets each meal. Still others sleep with their pets, sometimes to the detriment of their spouse.

Here is my concern: if you die, will anyone do all that? doubt it. If someone is good enough to take in your pet, they will have done more than enough, giving your beloved pet a warm place to sleep and food when needed. They won’t hand feed, they won’t cook and bake, they won’t chop up raw veggies. Once I began to think of this, I stopped that.

Now, my pets get pet food. Plain and simple. Just like everyone else would give them. if they get a better deal: super. But, if they just get a place to ‘sleep’ and food and water, I don’t want them to have any more agony than they already will, wondering where in the world I am. I think it’s better for my pets. And heaven knows, it  has begun to save me time.  And, not requiring so much from friends who might be kind enough to agree to take my furry babies.

I feel the very same way about kids. If something were to happen to us, who is going to treat your 20 year old as if they were still 6? Who is going to treat your 6 year old as if they were still 2? The world does not revolve around any one of us. It certainly does not revolve around our kids or our pets. I feel as if I am keeping my pets in a low-maintenance  area in their lives, so that if needed, anyone can pick up in my absence. I feel that this is the kind thing, the smart thing, and the right thing to do.

No toleration of yelling, screaming, kicking, complaining, when the world is basically just fine. No refusal to become adults.

My wonderful hairdresser gave her son and his ‘due soon’ baby a place to stay. He brought the wife and the dog. That was 7 years ago. They now have 2 dogs, 2 kids and no money. my hairdresser, in her  60’s is supporting everyone in her retirement home. She has one bedroom, they fill 3. Incredible. She wants them to move. They have said they cannot wait to leave so that they can live life the way THEY choose. But, 7 years and a larger family later, they linger. She is enabling them. why would they leave? They give her 200 bucks a month. The own ¾ of her home. They use everything and she cleans after them. if they get ready to leave, she feels guilty. It’s backwards. She should feel guilty that they have never had to learn to support their own lifestyle. It is heartbreaking.

I used to chop fresh veggies, go to the store daily to get ‘fresh’ meat to add to the food. Nuts. I finally realized one day that if something happened to me, the cats would immediately be on death row or be given a bag of cat food. Unless, of course, I left money in my will for them (I haven’t). I prefer having them get a bag of cat food. Any food will do at that point. Pet  food.

I have a friend whose dog has only slept on the bed it’s entire life. the dog was adorable. Now the dog is huge. I stayed over there once and woke to the dog, on top of me. I was not part of it’s territory. I’m lucky it didn’t tinkle on me to mark territory. I didn’t mind too much. It was only 1 night and I love pets. But, if I inherited that doggie, it would have to learn to sleep on a dog bed or the floor or something. And, if it yelled and screamed for 2 or 3 weeks while it was ‘getting that lesson’, I might not be inclined to bend over backwards for someone’s dog that was not properly raised, doesn’t understand that the humans are alpha and the dogs are not.

Hand feeding? Quit it. Dogs and cats and everything else really CAN take pretty good care of themselves. We get in the way.  and….we are supposed to be teaching our children to interact, to get along, to become self-reliant. Anytime you see a kid blowing up, stop to think just how long a different person would put up with that. nobody does it like enabling parents.

Sleeping with your kid? Nope. I won’t. will your cousin or your brother or sister if they suddenly find themselves with your children because you died? Doubt it. They aren’t used to bending into pretzels because you couldn’t bring yourself to do the right thing.

Why have we found ourselves in a world of people afraid to let kids grow up, become responsible, have pets that understand who is in charge? What in the world happened to the generation that followed one of the greatest?

Ooops. Cat needs cuddles. I hear the screaming. Better go get her.

I live in Spokane, WA. The US Figure Skating Championships are here, and I am normally in a front row seat. I have followed skating avidly since the mid 80’s. Fortunately, for me, attending championship contests have been constant. If I were not able to be in a great seat, I would watch it on TV, never missing a second.

Last night a very nice friend of mine took me as her guest to the championships. It was wonderful to see again.

However, what I actually experienced was not what I was accustomed to seeing.

I’ve mentioned before that I suffered a TBI (traumatic brain injury) a couple of years ago. It really has changed my life, my outlook, and my future. Last night I recognized it has also changed my past.

My mom had Alzheimer’s. Horrible disease. She lived in Fla and I lived in Colorado, then Oregon, now Washington. Farther and farther away from her, needing to be with her, hating to see what she was.

I made a decision about my visits with mom: I would meet her wherever she was. Toward the end, she had no clue who I was. I would watch her before I approached, to get a feel for how she ‘was’ at that moment in time. she would look at me, blankly, smile, and ask how I was. that’s mom. the more ill she became the more she morphed back into her ‘hostess’ mode of making others comfortable. because she did this so well, most people had absolutely no clue she was so ill. she managed to fool people for almost 5 years, with this disease eating away at her memories, her being. Now, visiting her in the lock-down ward was always unsettling. I wanted to scream, I’m ALEXA!! I’m your DAUGHTER!!. that would have done no good. she simply did not know me anymore. so, I decided to try to get her to like me, every time I visited with her. she had always helped everyone, everywhere. huge volunteer, all of her life. I decided that whenever I ‘met’ her, I would try to get her to enjoy my company. for an Alzheimer’s patient, that is no small feat. they are angry, frustrated, isolated, and tired of being bossed around. they have no clue who anyone is and they want ‘out’. I would go to her, smile, call her by her name, and beam at her, “HI”. she always responded favorably.

sometimes, rarely, she would chat, laugh, and almost manage conversation. Alzheimer’s robs people of their ability to use their words. I learned to listen to her cadence and her tone. amazingly, I usually could converse with her, on her terms. all I wanted was for her to like me. just for that ‘time’.

a brain, robbed of its use is not pretty. people do not act the way we expect them to or the way we are accustomed to them acting. when I injured my brain, my husband had his hands full. I had outbursts, my language went to the gutter, I was angry, crying, unable to do things and unable to figure out why. the doctors had warned us several times but until you live it, you really don’t ‘get it’. when I was going through this with my mom, I was still intact (almost brilliant, or at least really smart, IMHO). I just wanted her to like me. I loved her enough for both of us. I wanted her to like my company. so, we would chat. sometimes we would hold hands. she had no idea who I was. I was careful not to intrude. I just wanted to be with my mom, or whoever she was at that time.

sometimes I would visit her and it would go really well. so, I would stay longer than normal. those rare times were golden and I didn’t want to miss a second of them. we would talk and laugh, her conversations would make little sense, but she liked me. she was happy in my company and I was thrilled to almost see a piece of her, coming through. if anything or anyone interrupted her, she was lost again. sitting with a stranger. I would start from the beginning. again.

brains are pretty interesting. she was ‘there’ in pieces. the pieces weren’t necessarily the good ones. my brain was here but not functioning very well. as a result, I was difficult and unable to care for myself.

now I have the after-effects. my marriage is in shambles, over essentially. my brain has returned as much as it will manage we believe. if I am tired, I cannot form sentences. my spelling ability has completely vanished. I was an english whiz, math whiz, science whiz. now, I cannot multiply. sometimes I cannot add, no matter how hard I try. I spoke 4 languages, I seriously struggle with my english today. it’s just the way the cookie crumbles. I’m mobile, I can drive and run errands and cook and garden. I am just a bit more diminished. that’s life.

last night I realized I don’t know a damned thing about skating. that was astonishing. my friend had gone with me as my guest years before. she evidently relied on my knowledge to help her understand the competition. it made me remember the first month I was here in Spokane, the championships were here (Skate America, I think) and I took my very best friend to every event all week. she was an athlete but knew absolutely nothing about this sport. so, I explained to keep her appraised. last night, I could not answer the most basic questions. that was stunning to me. I simply don’t know anything much about this sport I have spent thousands of dollars on for 25 years or so. I’m a newbie.

so, just like my visits with my mom, I decided to just be ‘there’. I decided I don’t need to be in charge, don’t need to know the answers, don’t even need to know the questions. I could just be there, with my dear friend, watching a program of great challenge and superior athletes. I had been here the month I moved to Spokane, and now, 8 years later, as I am making my plans to depart, I was here again, but a different person, in every way.

and it was ok.

horrible week. cannot imagine one worse yet I know another is bound to appear.

4 of my dearest friends have experienced huge loss of life. what is worse than that? before that, I was feeling very bereft, left, alone, frightened and sad. now, i recognize again that everyone has ’something’. as my best friend said today, “you don’t have to look very far to see someone in a horrible position.”. she is so right.

3 of my best friends lost their pets in less than a week. one, is losing her husband. good heavens. I’m upset over my husband’s “stuff” and my pride and my money and divorce.  I need to get a grip.

I always say, ‘everyone has something’. when you are in the midst of it, you don’t remember that. just look around your own corner. someone is dying emotionally, spiritually or physically. someone is. I promise.

I have been helping a woman through her chemo. talk about a rude awakening. this is serious stuff. naturally, I keep my stupid stuff to myself.

so many of my friends and family are coping. we just didn’t dream things could become this grim. amazingly, spring will make all of us feel a little better. we will probably be missing someone but we will see more sunlight, watch new flowers bloom and realize that our world will trudge onward.

the most amazing part of this to me is the few people who still don’t ‘get it’. the ones who are completely caught up in their own drama, their own pain, not even seeing everything around them. that is heartache. name calling, bullying, pointing out faults, yelling, screaming, to no avail. we only diminish ourselves. I have been as guilty as the next. I keep trying though. I really do try. knowing that, I cannot discount that others are probably trying as well. we just see things at different times.

let’s pull together. please. let’s just row this boat in the very same direction. our time here is short. shorter than anyone knows. some of us feel we’ve been here, done this. possibly so. doesn’t matter. everyone is struggling with the very same issues and problems. we all deserve a break. we all deserve love. we all deserve a chance to improve.

I’m trying to improve. hard to imagine I could be better, but I’m gonna try!

I am often afraid. I fear so many things that haven’t happened. I fear things that ‘could’ happen. the relationship between the first and the second are huge.  there is the possibility that nothing bad could happen at all. irrational fears.

I am afraid of spiders. I don’t know why. many are so tiny. I try to help them. I know they are afraid of me. then, the bigger ones: ok, I’m frightened to pieces. no clue as to why. I think I am afraid of things that ’scurry’:  mice, rats, big bugs (roaches), spiders, and the like. again, they have never bitten me. I am just uncomfortable. afraid.

but why am I afraid of people? not many people, but certain people doing certain things. why should I fear them?

I am pretty fearless generally. it is not the person I fear, but what that person represents (as my stepdaughter taught me) me (CALL ME ANYTHING). I fear what I cannot predict. how many of us don’t?

of late, I am afraid of my future. I fear being without funding. I have only been that way once in my adult life and I managed by working 7 jobs a week. I was also 38. huge difference. now, I find myself without income and I feel old and withered, fretting about my financial future.

how different from a spider or a rat or mouse is this fear?

I know a wonderful woman. she is frightened to pieces of fire. I will hope to understand that fear before I leave her company. she consistently cuts trees, thinking this will prevent her family from burning. during the time I have known her, she has given way to both of her children leaving the nest, moving onward with their lives. she still fears that fire. she has more than one home. she is constantly cutting trees to prevent the danger of a dwelling being lost to fire. we all watch and feel for her dread. no one person will be able to put that to rest. only her. only this woman can prevent herself from the slashing of trees and shrubs, homes to so much wildlife, because she fears fire.

I’ve known her 10 years. I have yet to learn what was killed, or  lost  in a fire, in her life. I gather she lost something or someone precious. but, maybe it’s an irrational fear.

I fear sharks in the ocean.

I was raised in the ocean. my brother and family swam in the Atlantic and the Gulf for years. at times, our mother would call out to us: “sharks! , be still.  now, come slowly to me.” we learned that sharks were a danger. we were afraid but not terrified. when I saw the movie “JAWS”, I became very frightened. that was different. now, I’m afraid. now I’m frightened. now, I can be terrified.

but that’s me.

don’t we all have something? everyone is afraid of something. we all have our terrors. our worries. it doesn’t matter if they are things or stories or memories. they still frighten us sufficiently. we are afraid.

how interesting that so many of us decide that what one person fears is silly, yet inside we fear something. isn’t it time that we all recognize that everyone has fears and no fear of one person is any less than the fear we carry? personally, I think it’s past time.

it’s STUFF. we all have it. nobody is exempt. without fears, terrorism could not exist.

I don’t know about the rest of the world, but when I get on an airplane, I kiss myself goodby. I say my prayer to my guardians, my family, my loved ones and I put myself into the hands of ‘everlasting hope’. whatever happens after that is whatever happens. I have warned my family that if I were to perish in a plane crash then I was meant to, I decided to, I chose to. because, as a crew member, if I did not get out of a plane, there was a very good reason. I decided I needed to help someone else, I decided my life was over, I decided. yep. I decided.

so, what is your fear? do you acknowledge it? do you try to pretend it doesn’t exist? we all have it. no one person is exempt, no matter their posturing. everyone has fear.

overcoming that fear is a huge step forward.

my fear of sharks dissolved several years ago (that’s another blog). my fear of being left is dissolving now. (I’ll manage) my fear of spiders is a work in progress but I’m gaining on it considerably. i still dont’ like roaches but I realize now how long they have survived and try to acknowledge that as I do my best to kill them, standing as far away as possible. roaches are scary.

we are all so busy. it’s that time of year. holidays bring more and we all react. Re-act. good word. We aren’t quite ourselves if we ‘re-act’ are we? so many expected examples, traditions, and issues.

I have bats living above my bedroom, in a crack in the roofline. I like what bats do. I dislike what people still believe about bats. I was raised to believe that bats would swoop down into my hair if I were walking in a field at dusk. odd. yet, people believed that. I do realize that bats are some of the most voracious insect eaters on the planet. our chemicals are destroying them. they are becoming endangered. like butterflies, which we love, they and bumblebees, which we require, are being destroyed by the chemicals we use in our landscape.

the nights I can’t sleep, I turn toward my bedroom window and hope to watch bats, zipping around, and catching insects. I know that mosquitoes will not be biting the next day. I enjoy watching them swoop, stop on a dime and swoop in a different direction, catching their prey. I find it interesting.

I’m waiting for the moose to amble into my yard. they always come in the winter. I am awed by their size. opposite of  bats, the moose seem to just destroy my landscape because they are enormous and will eat anything they reach. they reach very well. but, because they are moose, they are forgiven being so incredible in size and not so often seen. and, moose are rarely said to dive at your head at dusk.

then I have that damned skunk. she (yes, I know) comes regularly now. when I was still an idiot, I tried to run her off one afternoon. you don’t do that twice. she comes in the evening. she eats fallen birdseed, next to my hedge. she began digging a hole. I put a stop to that. I do not want a den of skunks. they are hard to shed. and, in most states, it’s against the law to kill them. I am not the type to kill animals. I am more interested in trying to shoo them away. I’ve tried most things with this skunk. she scoffs at my efforts. cute, but not welcome. nor is the raccoon.

that’s the point, isn’t it? things we love and things we don’t. some are welcome, some are not.

traditions are welcome. the strife that comes along, not so much. family, always welcome. typical fights, no. trying to make things ‘just so’ because people are visiting: don’t. it’s just too much stress and reaction.

I remember one evening at my folks’ house. we had almost the entire family visiting. 3 brothers, 2 sisters, spouses, 2 nephews, one niece. I walked into the kitchen to put dishes away from the deck. we had just finished an incredible dinner. when I came in, my mom was madly scooping cookie dough onto sheets, ready to slam into the oven. the look on her face as I walked in was almost terror. I’ve never forgotten it. she was scooping about 15 per minute, it seemed. I offered to help. She tersely said “no, and don’t’ you DARE tell anyone I’m making cookies”. I went back outside. I knew the tension. she wanted this to be fun and easy and obviously it was nothing similar. she was frantic.

when she presented the cookies, on adorable trays, napkins ready, she was beaming and would not look at me. it was too much knowledge. she wanted it to ‘happen to be perfect’. I’ve never lost that lesson. it’s ok to just be ‘ok’. it’s fine to just relax and let people gather, laugh and pitch in. you don’t have to do it all.

so I am starting to decorate for Christmas. I learned yesterday that Christmas is a week from now. ooops. I’ve had no clue. my mind is clouded with so many things. I just knew it was ’sometime’ and thought I might actually decorate. I was planning to put lights out this weekend. well, I’m not doing THAT now. good grief. by the time I get them up, it’s time to take them down. I have lost track. I don’t have time to react. I had also realized this is my last year in this wonderful home and setting. that makes me sad. that made me decide to really do one last Christmas so I wouldn’t regret it later. ohwell. traditions change. I will make Christmas in my next house and be just fine.

so, while I watch the bats, shoo the skunk and wait for the moose, I realize that everything is really ok. I am not going to change the axis of our planet by what I do or don’t. the big wheel keeps on turning.

I have sworn off the stricken look I saw that night in my mother’s eyes. I have sworn off the rush and need of a calendar. I do things because I enjoy them, not because it’s expected. expected by me or expected by others. they are the same. I need to keep specific appointments, medical appointments, and lunch with friends. not much else is really that important. when I begin to work again I’ll keep those appointments as well. otherwise, I am now on ‘alexa time’ and the living is really not so bad.

I have more time to act.

I had a great visit with a wonderful woman over the weekend. she is my stepdaughter.

we have been through so much together. when I met her, she was in 3rd grade, now a sophomore in college. the years have been amazing, the changes incredible.

we laughed about her different ‘phases’, the extreme shyness, the necessity of goth, the girly-girl times, the dates and the heartaches. she is slated to be more a friend now than a daughter and I’m fine with any circumstance. I love her dearly.

when we met she was going through the demise of her family unit. her parents had divorced but in her mind hope was always intact. when her dad and I married, she was not pleased. it was very difficult for both of us. I had worked with children all of my life, as a volunteer in various areas. a single professional woman, I had never married so had no children of my own but really loved kids. I was always the favorite aunt, the neat ‘mom’s best friend’, the fun next-door neighbor to kids but never a mom. I proceeded slowly, getting into her life. her dad wanted to rush us but I knew better. still, she was rushed and it hurt her. I was unwelcome. for the first time in my adult life, a child did not want a thing to do with me. I was so surprised,  hurt, and confused. I tried everything,  I thought.

what I finally had to relent to was the unvarnished truth. after a particularly bad visit I was finished. I had no thoughts of trying further. by this time she was a freshman in high school. she had done some unforgivable thing and I was shattered by the memory.

when she came back, I invited her to have a talk. I laid my cards on the table. I loved her. I had worked very hard to love her. it was not something that just happened because I married her dad. it was a conscious decision and I had to be certain it took. I loved her. I would do anything in the world for her. I was so sorry about her parents’ divorce and her upheaval but I had nothing to do with any of it. I was also a child of divorce and knew the pain. I simply married a man I had fallen in love with. a divorced man. and she came along with the package.

I asked her to please tell me 3 or 4 things I had done to cause her pain, to hurt her, to make her angry. I wanted to know so that I could try to improve but I was fatigued with being treated badly and being unwelcome in my own home and life. I did not intend to allow any more ill treatment. she cried. she explained that it was nothing I had done. she said I had always been wonderful to her. she knew I loved her. then she said it was not me, it was what I represented: that her parents were really over.

what a huge statement for a young girl. what a truth.

we both cried, held each other for the loss each of us had suffered and for the mending we were needing .

after that day, we went into sync. our relationship began to flourish. we had both learned huge lessons. I believed I had known just what to do with my new kids, to help them like me and then maybe love me. yet, I could not have really understood their feelings. I wasn’t them, they weren’t me. we all had to navigate this together and mostly, we had to be willing. one person in a relationship cannot maintain without the other being engaged.

she is a young woman and I am an older lady. we have 13 years’ history. we have a relationship that will continue in some version even though we will never again live near each other and even though she is now watching her father move out of my life. she is something of a niece to me now. a friend. a daughter of a friend. my daughter. she is important to my life. she needs no label. neither do I.

we have love, respect and enough history to understand each other. we have continuity. how lucky is that?

I was raised by a cop. I was raised to know things are only black or white. never grey, never beige. black. white. stop means STOP, not slow down. criminals are the enemy. Rules are made to be followed.

you get the point.

my brother and I have borne the brunt of not coloring outside of the lines.

my aunt became a criminal, in her words, several years ago. although she had prepared judiciously for retirement, she could no longer afford her medications. except in Canada. she confessed to me several years ago that she had begun to purchase by mail, across country lines and was therefore, a criminal.

I have many friends who favor the legalization of marijuana. I am in favor too. I think once we legalize it, the government will start taxing the crap out of it, and maybe we can decrease the deficit. and, maybe we won’t have the huge amount of pesticides being imported from Mexico, south america and the like. And maybe we can actually manufacture something in THIS country and not spend money importing. and…medical marijuana has made an impact on many lives. the very lives that would have gleefully prosecuted anyone who smoked pot next door. however, evidently those in great pain, or people who no longer wish to eat even, or people who have true anxiety problems, are benefitted by marijuana. so now, even your granddaddy can be a criminal. In my opinion, pot should be treated the same as alcohol and other drugs. common sense. doesn’t mean criminal.

I just opened something illegal.  I asked someone to get it for me. I knew I would love it. however, I didn’t access it for quite some time. today I did. and I’m proud. and I’m thrilled with my personal freedom. If I am arrested or turned in, I have decided to finally take a public stand and go to trial.

I brought dishwasher soap across the border. ‘cuff me dano’.

I am an environmentalist from way back. our particular state outlawed detergents with certain ‘agents’ in them. women all over this state tried to embrace the new soap. unfortunately, it sucks. it does not get the food off of our dishes. I think it’s probably accurate to say that at least 98% of households have experienced the ‘new environmentally safe dishwasher soap’ because it’s the law. by now, we have all run out of the ‘other dangerous kind’. and, by now the higher majority of households have come to realize that the new stuff doesn’t get our dishes clean. we want to want to use it. it does not do the job we are paying it to do. we are sorry. ‘hands-up!’

my parents used to have a little dog named rocky. my dad always loved pets, especially dogs. he smuggled it into the house pretending it was a gift for our mom. sneaky. my husband did the same thing one Christmas with a toaster.

my dad had no tolerance for anyone’s pet. that was the odd thing. heaven help the pet owner whose pet prints graced any part of my dad’s yard, car, sidewalk. dad would waste few seconds getting to the door to educate the pet owner. now, he had a dog. and he became a criminal.

for several years he took rocky everywhere. he tried valiantly to get his little white poodle into grocery stores, Disney world, busch gardens, movies. you name it, dad had his routine all worked out. carrying the dog straight to a young person he felt he could probably intimate he would suddenly assume that rocky had become invisible. when the employee would hesitantly point out the dog and tell my police officer father that animals were not allowed in the park, movie, airplane, grocery store, hardware store or planetarium, my dad would feign complete astonishment. “you don’t mean HIM, do you?” to the hapless employee, now caught in a web. then the sales job would start. never worked. they feared for their jobs more than they did for a story they probably heard 300 times a day. service animals only, no exceptions. if my dad were allowed to have a pet today, he would have managed to get it certified as a service animal, just to get his way.

poor rocky was the victim here. dad would walk him back to the car, in the summer heat, and leave him there. criminal.

when we were in Alabama for part of his military career, a next-door neighbor commented that he got his cigarettes at the PX. dad was infuriated. the man next door was a civilian. only military personnel can purchase on base. I was not allowed to play with my neighbor’s daughter anymore. somehow, the criminal had rubbed off on the 4th grader.

I have seen people walking their dogs unleashed. I don’t remember when I last lived where there was no leash law. normally, the law says something along the lines of “animal must be under your complete control at all times”. when I walk in our hills, I come across many dogs, loose. you slow down, hoping for a human to round the bend, hoping the dog you’ve just encountered is friendly. once the owner shows, he or she immediately assures you that THEIR precious would never hurt a fly–perhaps just lick you to death. common phrase for the circumstance. if the dog begins jumping on you, they smile and laugh, letting you know that THIS means their precious LIKES you. how lucky is this? your clothes aren’t nearly as important as the acceptance by a random animal, running loose. these people are almost without exception, wonderful people in general. nonetheless, criminals.

I am unable to get my driver’s license renewed. It’s enough to lose my good humor. I started trying about 7 weeks ago. They didn’t like my name. I have a big name. lots of letters and words. Hard for most to spell without asking. And, then I got married. It gave me my 5^th name. holy crap.

When my husband and I got to Oregon, we went to get new licenses. Rule followers. Don’t wanna be criminals. The young lady behind the counter pointed out that our last names were not the same, even though we were obviously married. My husband and I exchanged smiling glances and explained we were newlyweds. When she handed me my license, I was shocked to see that she had added his last name to my license. I didn’t ask. She hadn’t asked. He didn’t ask. She did something criminal. She had no proof I was married. She had no proof my name had changed. She thought she was doing something nice and because of that, I hated to hurt her feelings by asking her to change it. I also hated to hurt my husband’s pride by appearing to refuse his name.

Now, I have no official name changing documents with which to get my drivers license. I had never officially changed my name anywhere. The bureau here required several types of ID. Bear in mind, I was not required to take a test, an eye exam, or do anything other than exchange one license for another. I was surprised because I expected a test. I would happily take one if it meant I could get a license. Because my license said I had an ‘extra’ name, they refused to allow me to be identified. They refused 3 passports, a court ID, a federally issued airline ID, 5 bills mailed to my home, in my name, a letter from the IRS to me, at my listed address, any number of credit cards, my auto insurance card…. Nothing was good enough to get a drivers license. Now, my license has expired. I am driving around with a very flimsy piece of paper, giving me a bit more time. The bureau has informed me that I need to have social security verify my identity, then I can re-start the process. Sounds simple enough but then I thought that the first time I went to get my new driver’s license. Right now I have been made to feel I’m a criminal and although I’ll continue using the dish washing soap, I’m not ready to be identified by the govt division of drivers licensing as a criminal. I’m jumping through hoops just as fast as I can buy them. what scares me so much now is that social security doesn’t think I ever changed my name. so, their record is not going to match this driver’s license. I’m frightened to pieces. Nothing else is ever going to match this Oregon license.

I think dad needs to put me in the car.