Old Soldiers Never Die. They Just Fade Away!

What are the rules of engagement for matters of the heart and emotions? I’ve been told a number of times that I’m a warrior. I wonder exactly what that means. That I stand and face the battle and fight my way through? Or is it that I’m just too dumb to stay down once I’ve been knocked down? It would be nice if I could give my opponent, my adversary, a death blow. But that would only be winning the battle, not the war.

Ah yes, the war. The battle of the ages. Man –V- Woman. Heart –V- emotions. This one is ongoing. Sometimes as a soldier of the heart, I’d like to begin a Jihad against matters of the heart. Whenever love, or what I may think is love rears its head, just lop it off and go on. Love is an infidel against the mind, soul and spirit of a human. It attacks when you least expect it. It blindsides you. It cripples you. It makes you uncomfortable, needy and dependant. I’ve reached a point in this war where I no longer want to feel needy, uncomfortable or dependant. I’m too old, too tired. If I love someone, I don’t want to feel like a prisoner of war. I want to feel like a conquering hero. Someone who has captured the heart of another. I no longer want to feel as though my captor is my torturer as well.

I think it’s time for this soldier to retire. Let the battle to the younger ones. Those who have the strength and stamina to fight. I’m picking up the weapons of my warfare and going home. Home to my own heart. There’s a cinder still glowing in the hearth of my heart. When I get there I’ll stoke that little cinder until there is a blazing fire. A fire of my own making that will chase the cold chill of love away. A fire that will give enough light to my heart to chase the shadows of the past away. I will learn to love myself. To love me as I wanted my adversaries to love me. I lay the gauntlet of my heart down. I call a truce for the need to have someone love and care for me. I am me. I am a woman. I have stood and fought the fight of love far too long.

Home is where the heart is. I’m going home!

Dinosaur Love-

Every Saturday morning it is my delightful task to take my little grandaughter to dance class. I am always welcomed with squeals of delight and the knowledge the day belongs to us. But this past Saturday was one of particular delight. It was the first day of her new car seat. She would no longer be in a "baby" seat, but now would be in a big kids booster seat and wear a grown-up seat belt. What a momentous day! As we started on our way to the studio, we reveled in this new phase of childhood rite of passage. What joy was in the car that day. She was a "big girl now". Then, with the quiet precociousness she so aptly has, she says, "Did I fix your broken heart?". It only took a second for the words to register in my brain. But in that second, the life of my broken dreams and loves flashed before me like lightening in a dark sky. I wasn't sure if I really heard her correctly. So I took a chance and answered the only way I could and told her my heart was fixed the day she was born.

However, her words washed over me bringing with them a torrent of emotions and memories. Those words, spoken so innocently, pierced the very core of my being. Every broken dream, every lost love, every failed attempt to find peace in a world of usery and hate, stood out in sharp contrast to my then and now life. I couldn't help but think what mythological creature had been at my birth to have cast a curse of always loving but never receiving love in return? What cruel twist of nature was this that couldn't be explained by a laboratory test? Better yet, what cruel joke was this? And why me? What had I done before birth to have caused such a weighty judgement having been passed on me? What and whose sins was I paying for with the price of my heart and my emotions?

There are some right now who would read this and think how dramatic. Why don't I just grow up, deal with it and get past it. Stop being such a drama queen. But then there are those, and you know who you are, who will read this and know this is not dramatics or literary embellishment. And there is one who will read this and know the facts are true and attest to their truthfulness.

So I leave you with these final words. Words that I pray you will think about and take to your own heart. For life is short and death long. None of us know the amount of time allotted to us. Use it wisely. Live life giving all the love you have. Take a chance on love, take a chance on reaching out for the unknown. Where would any of us be if those who have gone before us never took a chance at exploring new lands, new ideas. Explore what is inside of you. Soon people like me will be no more. The lovers of love in this world are truely a rare commodity. We are the people who make this world bearable. We are the ones who are willing to lay ourselves down on the altars of hate and intolerance in order for the balance of this world to remain so. Our tears fall unseen, our cries for love unheard, our need to feel the strong arms of someone's love around us go unfelt.

When the lovers of this world are gone, who will replenish you? Where will you turn to find the poems and songs and books written about love? Who will help you to express yourself? Not me. For I won't be here any more. I will have gone the way of the dinosaur.

Don't cry for me. Cry for you.

My Friend

Thirty-one years ago in 1976 I was employed by the county at Children's Services. I held the lowly position of file clerk. My son was six years old and I was starting my life over as a single parent. The position was a temporary one but it got me back into the work force and paid the bills. It was there that I met the person who would become my best friend. I can't remember the day we met or what it was that brought us together. But friends we became and friends we remain to this day. Our friendship has endured the test of time. When nothing else remained the same our friendship has. If there was one thing I could always count on it was Evelyn.

When it comes to describing Eve (pronounced Ev) I fail to find the words that adequately portray who and what she is. How can I take what is in my heart and put it here in black and white. She has meant so much to me over the years that it would take volumes to relate it all. She, of all the people I have met through the years, has impacted my life the most. When no one else was there she was. We have laughed together and laughed at each other. There were times when our laughter was mixed with tears. And then there were times we just cried. She always sees the best in everyone. Always sees the potential someone can attain to and urges them on to meet that potential. She is one that doesn't give up easily. She is steady and dependable. She will do whatever it takes to lend a helping hand when needed. She will give the shirt off her back (literally) and then ask if you need shoes as well.

Her quick wit and sarcasm keeps all of us on our toes. In that department she is one to be reckoned with. Her intelligence and ability to communicate goes without saying. She loves music. Music of all kinds. And if there is one thing that I truely envy it is her ability to dance. She can be all things to all people. I've seen her go from entertaining my three year old grandaughter to relating fully and completely with my fourteen year old grandaugher and not miss a beat with either of them.

But there is still more to this woman named Evelyn. She is a complex yet simplistic creature. A woman whose heart is as big as all outdoors. Her faithfulness and forebearance is without measure. Her love unquestionable. She will never allow herself the folly of telling a lie just to make you feel better. She will tell the truth, even if it hurts, in order to save you from more hurt later on. When she sees you going in a direction that would be harmful she will do any and all she can to steer you in the right direction. But she will never be manipulative or controlling. She allows you to make your choices and will be there to help pick you up if and when it is needed.

So what more can I say about Evelyn? Not much I guess. My heart holds so much respect and admiration for her. But more then that my heart holds a tremendous love for her. She is my friend and confidant. For over a quarter of a century we have walked the road of life together. When life was spinning out of control we held onto our friendship and that steadied our careening worlds. When no one else understood us we understood each other. And that was all that mattered. I know that if I need her in the middle of the night she will answer the phone. I know that she is always there for me and I am there for her. Yes, our friendship has stood the test of time and will continue to do so. A friendship such as this is rare. And I know now more then ever what a rare treasure we have in each other. I thank G-d for you, Evelyn, and I know that I am a better person for having you in my life.

I love you Eve

Letter To My Grandaughter

It only seems like yesterday that we brought you home from the hospital. A bundle of pink and white so tiny and helpless. Now here you are a young teenager growing toward adulthood. Where have the years gone? They seem to have flown by all too quickly. Years have passed and years remain yet to be experienced.

There was nothing easy about your birth. We knew from the onset that danger lay at every turn. But determination far outweighed any and all risks. From the moment I saw your tadpolelike body and the now beating heart on the Ultrasound, I knew I would move Heaven and Earth to keep you safe. Days flowed into weeks, weeks into months and finally the day arrived for you to make your grand entrance into this world. Here you were. All of two pounds and three ounces of life. I made the hospital attendants stop as they were wisking you away to the NICU so your daddy and I could at least take a glimpse of you. I remember the breath that caught in my throat as I looked on this small bundle of wrinkled flesh that carried my DNA. What an awesome feeling to know that my blood ran in your veins. Here was my grandaughter.

In the months that followed, NICU was not only your home but ours as well. Night after night we sat by your incubator watching and praying for your safety. Needles and tubes ran everywhere. I laugh at this now. But I couldn't help but compare you to a newly hatched chicken. Your skin seemed too large for your bone structure and hung in tiny wrinkles. You had the soft down of a duck and the tinest hands and feet I ever saw. But the greatest danger came from the fact that, due to early delivery because of your mother's health, your lungs were underdeveloped and therein lay the fight. But fight you did and soon you were breathing on your own. The day we were able to actually hold you in our arms was one of tremendous joy. No longer did we have to simply touch you through the small openings of your incubator. I remember holding you in my arms and tightly to my chest. It was at times like this I found myself secretely vowing within myself that no one and nothing would ever hurt you. I would always be there to guard and protect you. However.............

Little did I know that in time you would not only be taken from my arms but my life as well. The day you were gone from me I felt as though a part of me had been amputated. The pain I felt was unbearable. It was sad that it happened. And even though there had been short spurts of contact with you, I wasn't there to fulfill the vow I had made. I cried and prayed. Prayed and cried. There was a hole in my heart that only you, my precious first grandaughter, could fill. For over ten years I kept your car seat in my car right where it had been from the day I drove you home from the hospital. Time and again people would urge me to remove the seat. But I adamantly refused. That seat would remain where it was until you returned to me. It was my only point of contact with you.

Well my precious one, time has passed and here you are. God has graciously answered prayers prayed so long ago. How can I tell you how much I love you. How can I convey the overwhelming sense of awe I still feel about you. Oh yes, there are many years to catch up on. Lots of things to do, places to go to and people to see. Things we can experience together. I can hardly wait to impart to you the wisdom of my years and life. Things I hope will help mold you into the woman I know you can and will be.

In a few short weeks I will be turning 60. I can't help but know that with this birthday I'm facing my own mortality. But I know that as long as you live my memory will live as well. You are the one who will carry me into the next generation of this family. The bible says that sorrow will last the night but joy comes in the morning.

You are my morning, Tiana!

Requiem For The Past

I'm writing this post without any thought to either proper or perfect literacy. At this point it is of no importance to me if puncuation is properly placed. Thoughts ordered precisely, concisely or conceptually has no room at this time. What is to follow is simply born out of the need to take something intangible from within to the tangibility of the written word.

You see, I'm one of those few people who believe that words are real. Words have a life of their own. To me they live, they breathe, they have power untold and untapped. Words can bring life or death. They will build up or tear down. They are a force that once spoken cannot be taken back. We may try to alter the meaning of them by explanation. But in the end what is said is said. That's as black and white, as absolute, as one can get in this world.

So, that being said I invite you to come with me as I attempt to purge myself of the past. To finally lay to rest what was, what never became and what never will be. And who knows. Maybe even some absolution.

Several days ago my phone rang at what I thought was an unusual time. Picking it up I heard a voice I couldn't recognize and thought I had been caught by the infamous telemarketer. The voice sounded unsure of itself and uncertain if it was speaking to the right person. I was just about ready to hang up when I finally asked who it was and who where they trying to reach. When the name was given I was left speachless. Here was a voice from my past. Twenty-five years of past at that. Here was a man I had dated for all of seven months. Here was the man I had an affair with. And, yes, he was married.

When we first met he was nervous and unsure of himself. He seemed to always be apologizing. But as time passed and we grew closer he relaxed and became more sure of who he was. He was affectionate and caring. With him I felt safe and protected. We were alike enough to be different and yet different enough to be alike. We balanced each other out in a way I have yet to see duplicated in my life with anyone else. If you would have asked me then if I believed in a soul mate I would have answered yes. Ask me that today and I'm not sure what my answer would be. All I know is the more he became a man the more I became a woman. Sound idyllic? Sorry, that's just the way it was. But with any situation such as this there came a time when decisions and choices had to be made. He chose to come to me. However, while packing to do this his then 16 year old son made a very viable threat to his father. He stayed where he needed to be and I spent a very long time healing.

Let me stop here for a moment and clear the air. I have never been proud of finding myself in a situation like this. I didn't look for it and I didn't ask for it. It happened and it surprised both of us. Neither one of us was prepared for what took place between us. But I know that a piece of paper does not a marriage make. You can be faithful in actions and unfaithful in mind and heart. He was a dutiful husband, father and son. He fulfilled his obligations. In this he was most admirable. He remained thus for a total of 44 years. His wife passed away this past June. Hence the phone call.

We met for coffee one evening and dinner another. I pray to God I never see him again. Sound cruel? Not really. Twenty-five years ago a man walked into my life. Sitting before me was a shell of that man. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. We had, obviously, both aged. But life has not been good to him. He looked old and drawn. Tired and beaten. His eyes, once so filled with laughter, was dull and almost lifeless. It broke my heart to see him like this. He walked with a slight limp because of knee problems and it seemed only an outward expression of what he was like on the inside. How could this have happened? I almost resented the fact that he contacted me. That I had to sit and look at the brokeness I was seeing before me. His sixteen year old son who so valiantly (or defiantly) stood before his father is now married, living in a new home, speaks to his father by phone and occassionally comes to see him or he to see his son. He has no life, no hope, no dreams, no aspirations. I've never seen such emptiness in bodily form.

I knew what was happening from the first phone call. I know it even moreso now. For the past twenty-five years he's been living in the past. It's what has held him together. I, on the other hand, have had to make a life for myself in the here and now. I can't and couldn't afford to live in a "what if" existence. What we had was good and true and, yes, even beautiful. But that was then and this is now. I've come to learn there are times when you can't go back. No matter how hard you try you cannot recapture what was. Time does takes its toll. I no longer have the strength to fight through a relationship. Let alone fight through the past to get to the future of one. I'm tired. I'm drained. I'm spent. He wanted to know why I wasn't married. Why someone like me with so much to give wasn't with someone. I did all I could not to laugh. That was the question I've been asking myself for years. He hasn't a clue to the number of times I've given my heart and emotions to others. Not just men but to situations that life has presented to me. What right did he have to try and walk back into my life after twenty-five years and think I could save him. Isn't that what he was really thinking? Now that his wife is gone that we could somehow start over? No! I can't and won't go back. There is no now that hasn't been birthed in a past. I'm not the same as I was then. I've grown in different ways and the path of my life has taken me on journeys with lots of twists and turns. And some day my path may still lead into a relationship full of love and passion in every area of life. I have enough left to give to that special someone. To nurture and care for them as I did for him. What I have left is not for him. What is done is done.

So how do I end something like this? I don't think there is an ending. But I can say this. While writing I've felt a lightness. I know that forgiveness came a long time ago. Now, however, I can forgive the situation. The dirge of the past can play its last chord and the musicians of the future can take center stage. A new act of my life is ready to begin. This is not.......

THE END

Going Somewhere?

Life is a journey. From the moment we are born we begin the journey of destiny. Our feet are set on a pathway that takes us in many different directions. Some we choose freely and some chosen for us.

My road has been varied over the years. Sometimes the road has been like a smooth highway where I can just put myself on cruise control. Those are the times when life is quiet and unassuming. Then comes the road that takes me up a hill of hope and exhilaration. The assent up can be a gradual incline or rather steep and arduous. Depending on the situation, I can spend some time on that hill just looking around at my life and enjoying the view of the moment from the pinnacle of emotion. Then, sooner or later the descent must be made. So down I come. Now this is where it gets tricky. This is usually where the S curves and hairpin turns come in. This part of the journey must be made with focused attention and deftness of skill. One wrong move, one miscalculation, could prove to be disasterous. This is where most wrecked lives happen so one must proceed with caution. After navigating this part of the journey comes the inevitable fork in the road. This is where decesions are made. This is where it gets interesting. Which way to go, which way to turn.

I am at the fork in the road of my journey. I'm not sure which way I'lll go but I know that it will be good. How can I be so sure? Because I know me. I know that I'll make the right decision. I have years of experience to help me choose wisely. I have a life, I have a destiny, I have a purpose. I know that if I see the decision I made is not good I can always turn around. My road is wide enough to make U turns. No problem! And if along the way someone decides to join me on my journey my road is wide enough to handle more then just me. Would you like to join me on my journey?

Never Lose Sight

A friend recently reminded me that I haven't posted in a long time. In spite of the fact that I've had a dozen trains of thoughts, I couldn't put one thought together that made any sense. For all my cries of individuality I found myself falling into the trap of comparison. I found myself thinking of what the readers would want rather then what I wanted to write about. I named this blog specifically so anyone stumbling upon it would know that I am a grandmother who just wanted a place to exercise her freedom of expression. Ahhhhh, that feels good already. Confession is good for the soul! However, I'm not sure what I just confessed expect that I lost interest in even myself and my thoughts.

I think the saddest thing that could happen to anyone of any age is to lose interest. Lose interest in what you might ask? Well, that could mean almost anything to anyone. Where has the excitement of life gone? Where has the anticipation of things yet to come gone? What about the hopes and dreams yet to be fulfilled? Come on guys. We all have them. Why do we let them just fall to the ground? Our hopes, our dreams, our "interests" are personal to us as indivduals. These are the things that keep us going. Things no one else can or should take from us. So why do we reach a part of life where we stop believing in what yet can be. Life becomes routine and bland and we wave the white flag of surrender over our desires. We throw up our hands and allow the enemies of our souls to capture our dreams. We walk into the prison of our minds and allow the ruts of life to define where we go. We hold ourselves captive with fear of the unknown.

So I'm going to step out into the unknown. I'm going to run for our town council. I've never done anything like this before and I may or may not win. But this is something I'm going to do. I'm going to step outside of my prison and recapture interest in my life and the life of the town I live in. If I win the ballot I will do all I can to legislate what is best for the town and its residents. If I lose I will have lost knowing that I at least tried.

In closing I have one last thing to say. It was told to me a long time ago that good friends are harder to find then good lovers. I laughed when I first heard that. But I now know how true that saying is. So to my friend who reminded me of my absence of blogging I say thank you. Thank you for reminding me of who and what I am. And thank you for just being you.