18 January 2014

lugubrious, melancholy, somber: "The Right Word" is hardly found

It's 12:39 am, a Tuesday night, or Wednesday morning rather; the house is asleep. Everyone but me and the television. Dexter Season 5, episode 8 I believe. We are actually on Season 8, but since my love has a sleep schedule different than my own; I am going back mostly for sound... and possibly a lesson in boorish vocabulary via Debra Morgan. Her character uses the 'F" words in ways I have never thought of. *I just realized that the Netflix provided closed captions edit all the cuss words on this episode! Ha.

I am on nights until May. I start my shift in the dark and come home in the dark. I revel in any minute of sunshine I might catch in the hour or so before I have to ready myself and head to work. I close my eyes and feel the sunbeams lay their long fingers upon my forehead and cheekbones; warming my face in those tiny moments. I look forward to warmer days, but we have many days of winter left before then.

Although I had a most lovely night with my darling, we try to have a date once a week, and I need those moments to keep me steady and held strong. He is my rock of Gibraltar, my anchor, my mainstay, and my protection. He is my new day, sunshine on my face, a warm breeze, and comfy wooby wraps. I digress. The night was lovely as I spent it with my best friend... but I found out very disheartening news at the beginning of the night, and it is hanging over my head and weighing on my heart very heavily. A mentor of mine, a man I admired so fully, a cop of all cops, a hero to many, a knight without shiny armor but instead a badge, having been there for many victims-- a police officer, detective, supervisor, instructor, friend, husband, father, son... hero; died yesterday. He had battled cancer for more than a year. Took leave from work. Retired. Spent time with his family. And finally succumbed to it.

I heard the news and I immediately choked back the very quick and hot tears that welled up immediately. My throat was tight and my heart broken. This was the man, in real flesh and blood, (not those of literature, movies, and television I grew up with); a legend in our community of the type of LEO that I want to be. I watched him through the news as I was growing up-- tales of horror in our own community, and a face in front of the mission for justice. As an adult and while I pursued my college degrees, I had the privilege of taking classes that this man taught at an university in our city. I think I learned more in these classes than any of the others combined--- because he taught from a real, hands on perspective. He was there. He faced murderers, rapists, abusers. He carried the weight of many, many victims. He helped put away many, many bad people. He had tenacity, intelligence, strength, compassion, devotion, integrity... when people said to me, "why do you want to do what you're doing?"-- one of the reasons I always provided, or examples that I could give, was mention of him.

Tonight (01/18/2014), I will prepare my A uniform, polish my boots, dust off my hat in preparation for the funeral. My husband gave the most amazing toast to me, the night I found out. We were at dinner. We raised our water glasses, the two of us; and after he toasted to he and I-- he toasted to Lt., the amazing man and officer that he was, and asked that his spirit live on through me as I continue with my career. What an honor although I am not sure I am worthy. But my mentor, was also very human-- and at times, made mistakes. He also shared some of those with the rest of us, so that we may save ourselves the heartache.

So, Lt. KL; may you rest in peace. I am certain your family will not be the same without you here, but will always love and forever miss you. Your friends, I am sure, will feel the same. And all of those, whose lives you touched without even knowing... will always admire and look up to you. Thank you for your inspiration, knowledge, time, and compassion. 

18 April 2013

He who Can't Cut the Mustard is Between a Rock and a Hard Place and is running Against the Clock

Well, well, well... we meet again.

It seems I always find myself back here. A need to speak to no one in particular or to no body at all but yet everyone or anyone that finds themselves here. 

Let's see. I graduated in December with my Masters. I went the very quick route; no thesis and 12 credit hours a semester. I completed it as I intended although interestingly enough, accolades are not given for grades as they are in undergraduate studies. I have to remind myself that more than just an extra title or 'award' received, I wanted to the scores for me. Somewhere along my life's journey, I have collectively grouped all the voices that said 'I couldn't' into a faceless and terrifying entity that sits squarely on my shoulders. It holds in one hand a direct line to my subconsciousness and in the other a recorded, looped message doubting my abilities. Its claws hold tightly and I fear I'll never be able to shake it off of me. 

I vaguely remember a line from Stuart Smalley, I believe it was. "I'm smart, I'm funny, and dammit, people like me"... well actually, now that I verify my information, it actually went: "I'm Good Enough, I'm Smart Enough, & Doggone It, People Like Me!" and it was the name of his book. But, I think combined, it is a good start for fighting the Doubt that holds me tightly in fear. 

Speaking of Doubt. I feel it when I can't find the right words to describe something or explain myself or discuss a topic, or when my darling asks me a question that I should know easily but I have to think hard, and even review his text before hesitantly giving my answer. I feel it when I apply for job after job after job and bet that I am STILL not qualified enough. I wish having a Masters degree truly meant you were now a Master. Kind of the same expectation I would have for graduating from an intense Ninja Academy or arduous Spy School. I am sure when you graduate from Wizard Training- you know more than What's Wart and Who's Who in Villianry. Ok, ok, fine. Those are all unlikely institutions or careers-- but... the application in my mind is relatable. I had hoped to come out a Master- but instead I feel frightened. And if I can not get my feet wet soon and start applying all that hard-earned education; I fear it maybe all for naught. Dramatic? Maybe a little. I am frustrated. 

In myself. I went left when I should have went right. Choices, choices, choices. There is not a handbook for this life. We make our choices based off of others- those we respect- and in some ways, those that we have no respect for. (those that know me closely will understand this best) We ask around, we do research, we squeeze our eyes closed and hope for the best. We have no idea how our future path is forged or planned or intended until the future is present and all those previous steps will have led us to follow or choose anew. This leads us to desperately impart this wisdom upon our youth in hopes they will make their choice to go left earlier and not later. Later does not mean that it can not be done-- but later generally means the road is so much bumpier. Difficult. Tiring. Frustrating. Consuming. But as life works the way it does, the youth are not ready to hear about the future- because their future is the next minute. Right now. 

So, for now, living vicariously through them, I hope for my next opportunity; my next life. It is frowned upon others who share conformable religious beliefs as me; but my beliefs are also very spiritual based; and I do not think that it is as simple as everyone would like to neatly wrap it in a single tome. That is for another journaling- my point to the paragraph (other than incredibly long sentences and inappropriate punctuation); I believe that I will go to heaven, nirvana, Zion, bliss; when I have completed all the tasks that have been formerly set for me. Until then, I will complete this one when it is time, I will be reborn to hopefully have learned and grown to be a wiser me-- that may make better choices earlier, and set my path for absoluteness. My final end. Basically, I speak of a form of reincarnation. But I believe in the Higher power that set my tasks and set me free to follow them. However, the entity doesn't give a handbook and doesn't answer questions, and doesn't return my emails... but the answers are eventually there.


11 September 2012

Catching up...

to begin, i am betting that this will be a vomiting and not in the eloquent sense that i am hoping for.

my best friend started blogging the other day and i was reminded that this was a place i used to come to that i could unhinge and let go of all that which sat in my skull stewing all day. i had abandoned it (originally due to a hectic schedule- but eventually out of laziness i'd guess), and put it to the side of 'want to's' like reading for fun, quilting, learning a new trade, travel, gardening, etc...

but what an amazing opportunity  this is that i have let slip by... when my daily expression of thought is based off of recitals and memorization or commands and requests and chatting to teenagers, spouse, and animals-- why wouldn't i come to this place of free thought and dumping of those other thoughts that begin before i am even awake and end... well, never i hope. [think or sink]

so i thank you Ruby, for your continued inspiration you bestow upon me and i look forward to seeing you around this way... exploration, expression, growth, dissection...

08 January 2012

Beloved Bravado

Origin of BELOVED: Middle English, from past participle of beloven to love, from be- + loven to love
First Known Use: 14th century.

Words escape me. I have you on my mind all day long... over and over running through my mind, even when I am dreaming. The moment I sit down to express it. The words escape me.

He is the warm breeze that glances off my shoulders and whispers as it blows through my hair, circling around me, I feel the comforts of home and I feel safe.

He is the light that illuminates my path leading my way, and on the dreariest and darkest of days, he is my sunshine.

He is the carrier of my heart, and wherever he goes, it goes with him...
 

07 January 2012

Snow birds

"Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air…" --Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Our chief want in life is somebody who shall make us do what we can." --Ralph Waldo Emerson

"He who is in love is wise and is becoming wiser, sees newly every time he looks at the object beloved, drawing from it with his eyes and his mind those virtues which it possesses." --Ralph Waldo Emerson, Address on The Method of Nature, 1841

Monk was right. Emerson is great. These are my 'thoughts' that I cannot seem to put together.Words escape me tonight but I feel like having my fingers to keys or pen to paper... I miss him so much. Not just missing someone to help with dishes, or stand by and listen to my complaints and cheers of the day, or someone to handle the biz so I don't have to... its something like nothing else... I miss his smile, his touch, his laughter, his voice, the way he holds my hand, opens the door for me, pulls out my seat, lets me pick the movie, looks into my eyes, holds me close, the way he smells, the way he loves me...I miss it all so much.

That is all I can give tonight.

He is amazing, fantastic, beautiful, intelligent, brave, and I am proud to say the best husband and friend anyone could ask for.

Ily MDW, mi or ".

29 November 2011

Weighted Tea Leaves Speak Uncertainty

It is freezing out. Well, I could not say for certain that the temperature is at freezing... but I am shivering. My fire is dim, my bones are bare. There is an aching and emptiness that is all consuming. Days and nights stumble into one another with dilemas needing resolution and time spinning all too quickly yet my burning moments feel like molasses. I am... lost. I am separated from myself and all that was certain. I feel everything and it is too painful to bare.

A painful acknowledgement that no matter how hard I have worked, and regardless of the benefits, and disregard of that beautifully smoked pipe dream... it is not to be. It can not be. To pursue it would be selfish. I have already been selfish in my pursuit for education. I should have gotten a damn "normal" job years ago and had a steady paycheck. Instead I have accumulated debt, and missed time with my children; if not activities, in stability and sanity. I pushed my husband into a career that may not have been a necessary pursuit if it were not for the need to soley provide for our family.

Save the world? I can't even save myself. I can't keep it together. I can't hold everyone up. I can't do more than just enough unless I give up all the things that I am fighting for in the first place. I can move away and leave the three comprising pieces of my heart in order to pursue a dream that is my own and provide for those that I won't even get to be near. Leave my children behind or push to take them to a strange place. Live separately from my husband or have him abandon his family who desperately need him around. Real fucking awesome. Why in the fucking world did I even entertain this idea-- to make myself sick, to drive myself over the edge, to cry everyday?  because there is no way...

dream   /drim/ Show Spelled [dreem] Show IPA noun, verb, dreamed or dreamt, dream·ing, adjective

noun 1. a succession of images, thoughts, or emotions passing through the mind during sleep. 2. the sleeping state in which this occurs. 3. an object seen in a dream. 4. an involuntary vision occurring to a person when awake. 5. a vision voluntarily indulged in while awake; daydream; reverie
I have a soul that came into this body from another life, another time. Poor thing got the shaft, because this body doesn't have the "time" to pursue the dreams the self has envisioned. I am not as strong as you see. This is a facade and it is shattering.

Confirmation. Recognition. Realization. This is mourning I am feeling. This is letting go. I love them that much. I get up for them. I keep going for them. I am because I want to be everything for them. An incredibly huge blessing; true love and the gift of children.
I have his support. To do whatever it is I need to do... but there is more to it all than that. There are others to consider.

"If you love something set it free, if it comes back it's yours; if it doesn't it never was." -- Richard Bach
I am not sure how this could come back to me. It is literally and completely time restrictive. This is it. Now or never. Both feet in? Maybe Abby's philosophy is not applicable to all situations. This is different than my thinking before... I felt I wasn't smart enough, strong (physically) enough, man enough... I have seen that is not true, which makes it harder perhaps... I couldn't say. The other drove me to reach all those things, to prove otherwise. Well, I can't prove that I am any more "manlier" than before... but I no longer think my being a woman is a disqualifier. This is different. This is... what it is.

New plan. New goal. New dream. New step. New path.

I will mourn this now and then I will reach acceptance because I know that although I fear the burden of regret, I can not bare the burden of selfishness, of guilt, of harming my loves, of living without them.
The world will have to wait for this soul to be reborn to a younger body, and hopefully it will listen sooner, or have learned from this experience, and choose different steps along the way. It will come to be someday.

For the two who I know read this... I will be ok. I am completely and utterly blessed to have beautiful, intelligent, funny, loving children and an equally remarkable husband; friends who love me for me, and eyes open to a new day. Today is rough. Right now is tough. You know me; I will come out with eyes still fresh, heart open to life's amazing light, and hope for tomorrow.

28 November 2011

Much Ado About Monday

How fascinating!

I settled in on the couch late last night deciding I would "allow" myself a night of nothingness. I was watching a 2-disc documentary DVD of serial killers. Perhaps I am one of only a few mothers in America who can simultaneously listen to such gory material and carry out normal, menial tasks such as quilting or folding laundry, and not be bothered per se. The material is gruesome and tragic-- I recognize that... but I am fascinated by what makes these people killers in comparison to the rest of us non-killers.

I wrapped up in a fuzzy fleece hug as red as a berry as the dog curled up at my feet and the cat nestled in my lap. Not long after stretching out, I realized an invisible string must be strung from my toes to my eyelids. The more stretching I did, the more comfortable I became, the harder it was to keep my eyes open. I dozed off during an episode about the "Profile of a Killer"....

...the first time I woke was due to the baking of myself in the fleece wooby. The two animals snoring beside and on me were effectively cooking us all with their higher body temperatures. Between us all you could have baked a turkey. Kicked the dog off the couch and moved the cat to the side. Too comfortable to move off the couch to bed... (2330)

... the next time I woke, I came out swinging. The dog suddenly and loudly, was barking at an unknown "threat". It was after midnight, so this concerned me enough to draw me off the couch for inspection. I looked through the house and cautiously peeked out the windows, double checked the doors, and surveyed the house with "Harry". I found nothing and resigned to my bed this time. (0015)

... I woke again to self-baking. A cold front had swept through late and I had the heat running hard. I turned on a couple of fans, re-evaluated the blanket situation, and fell asleep... again... (0230)

...I sleep on the left. There is a space on the right, although I have temporarily filled it with pillows semi resembling the shape of another. I reached over as I sometimes do (habit not to be broken), and through my completely unconscious and unreasonable state of mind recognized that my hand was in something wet... and cold... the brain ran through scenarios, synapses firing to make sense of it all. Until finally, I reached over to pull the light switch and at that second in time, eyes in lighting timing took a picture, scanned it to the brain, brain evaluated and returned a result... the cat had puked her entire dinner and perhaps lunch, snack, breakfast... all over my Pillow Mike. Not only that... but on my pajama bottoms, and yes... I had put my entire hand in it. I cursed. I put the pillow on the floor for I knew two other animals wouldn't mind helping with cleanup. Threw off the bottoms, covered the remaining wet spot with a towel, scooted to the left a little more, and returned to the incoherent state I had just left. (0345)

...Whistle. Sweet and beautiful text. Response through squinted eye. Snooze. (0359)

... I woke again in complete sweats. I had been dreaming the most obscure and incredibly frightening thing (which I can completely rationalize in my waking state, had to do with current situations). My back was sweaty, my front was sweaty. I stumbled, like a woken hibernating bear, to the hallway and turned the heat down once again. (0430)

...Whistle. Good morning. Off and running. Love. Snooze. (0607)

...Alarm. Growling. Ok, Monday... I see how this is gonna be.

Hope you all had a most lovely of Monday, or as best as it can be, right? It could have been worse...she could have thrown up in my mouth.

Here's to a new day with Tuesday. Only 18 days until we feel complete again... Ily MDW, mi. or ".