Spurred Memories

I've been content lately.



 Feeling good about life, no pain here, almost cruising.






Sitting on my couch  tonight listening to Dave playing his songs when a couple of them brought back extremely painful memories; hard times. It was the kind of pain  so intense that when I hear those songs, they take me back to that exact moment. The feelings become as real as an alarm clock waking you from a sweet dream.




 So, I told myself, " just don't listen to those, skip 'em".  But they are probably two of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard. To let something keep me from that richness would be so very sad!,



Pain is beautiful too. It causes the soul to go deeper into it's own identity. So I embraced it and let the memories return in all their tragic glory.







 If the pain doesn't kill you, or destroy you, or steal your heart,  it has the potential to carve you into something beautiful, meaningful and compassionate. Pain is like an ocean.



I realize how pain is a necessary part of life.  Necessary not because we live in an imperfect world, but necessary for us to live fully, totally and have a real story.  When the pain returned tonight by just hearing the song I wanted to turn and go on to something different, sort of run away.  But instead I accepted it, relived it, and realized it was just a paragraph in the story of my life.

Standing here 
The old man said to me 
Long before these crowded streets 
Here stood my dreaming tree 
Below it he would sit 
For hours at a time 
Now progress takes away 
What forever took to find 
Now he's falling hard 
He feels the falling dark 
How he longs to be 
Beneath his dreaming tree 
Conquered fear to climb 
A moment froze in time 
When the girl who first he kissed 
Promised him she'd be his 
Remembered mother's words 
There beneath the tree 
No matter what the world 
You'll always be my baby 
Mommy come quick 
The dreaming tree has died 
The air is growing thick 
A fear he cannot hide 
The dreaming tree has died 
Oh have you no pity 
This thing I do 
I do not deny it 
All through this smile 
As crooked as danger 
I do not deny 
I know in my mind 
I would leave you now 
If I had the strength to 
I would leave you up 
To your own devices 
Will you not talk 
Can you take pity 
I don't ask much 
But won't you speak 
Please 
From the start 
She knew she had it made 
Easy up 'til then 
For sure she'd make the grade 
Adorers came in hordes 
To lay down in her wake 
She gave it all she had 
But treasures slowly fade 
Now she's falling hard 
She feels the fall of dark 
How did this fall apart 
She drinks to fill it up 
A smile of sweetest flowers 
Wilted so and soured 
Black tears stain the cheeks 
That once were so admired 
She thinks when she was small 
There on her father's knee 
How he had promised her 
You'll always be my baby 
Daddy come quick 
The dreaming tree has died 
I can't find my way home 
There is no place to hide 
The dreaming tree has died 
Oh if I had the strength 
Take me back 
Save me please

Spoon in spoon 
Stirring my coffee 
I thought of you 
And turned to the gate 
On my way came up with the answers 
I scratched my head 
And the answers were gone 
From hand to hand 
Wrist to the elbow 
Red blood sand 
Could Dad be God 
Crosses cross hung out like a wet rag 
Forgive you why 
You hung me out to dry 
Maybe I'm crazy 
But laughing out loud 
Makes the pain pass by 
And maybe you're a little crazy 
But laughing out loud makes it all subside 
Holding I'm holding 
I'm still falling 
Spoon in spoon 
Stirring my coffee 
I thought of this 
And turned to the gate 
But on my way 
Crack 
Lightning and thunder 
I hid my head 
And the storm slipped away 
Well maybe I'm crazy 
And laughing out loud 
Makes it all pass by 
And maybe you're a little crazy 
And laughing out loud 
Makes it all alright 
Laughing out loud 
From time to time 
Minutes and hours 
Some move ahead while 
Some lag behind 
It's like the balloon that 
Rise and then vanish 
This drop of hope 
That falls from his eyes 
Spoon in spoon 
Stirring my coffee 
I think of this 
And turn to go away 
But as I walk 
There're voices behind me saying 
Sinners sin 
Come now and play

Illusions Or Not

I was leaving church today after a very fun and interesting group that talked about the previous sermon. But that has nothing to do with why I'm writing.  As I was leaving, walking through the main lobby, I saw a man, he looked like my father. I'm not talking about the, "Oh wow, that looks like my dad.  How nice."  But the thing where you wonder...wonder.  The same grey hair, but just this weird feeling of "dad"...I saw my dad.  I know...we don't believe that stuff do we?  Or at the least we're skeptical.  I always have related to Thomas, the doubter...and I still do. As much as I 'believe', sometimes I wonder about everything. And then something smacks me..totally smacks me when I'm not prepared and ...wham....I'm at the very least, a believer.



So my father was not actually the most intimate man. He didn't really know how to express his feelings well and actually ran from them. I think they seemed too big for him to control so he just ran...left....and ...well...had  a drink.  I saw him five days before he died.  He said some things to me that I will never forget; some things that were timely, some things that made me know he loved me.  I mean I knew he did...and he even respected me....but he was not so great sometimes at being there when I needed him the most.  I think he's really, really sorry for not being there.  I think now, he sees the big picture. That I desperately needed him.  



Even now, that he has been dead for a long time, I want to reach out to him, knowing that he's sorry. But because he never really was that open with his feelings, I don't know how to express my need for him..my love for him...my sort of, dependence on him .  It's sad, but it's also like another chance.  I had this weird dream the other night.  I honestly don't remember the details..but the thing that stands out like a champion athlete that stands out from their peers..is that I said, "I wish I had the chance to do it over."  This was all inferring to relationships...my relationships.

I think my dad is with me.  I think he is trying to talk to me, to be close to me.  I really do.



 Crazy as it seems. And yes, the skeptics ( it would be me if I weren't the one writing and experiencing this story) might have all the theories of scientific reasoning of why I still hold on and want to have closure yada yada yada...but this is MY story. It feels real. And when you're IN the story, when you're living the story it is real.



I love you dad.  I really do.

Play Music

"Oh"

The world is blowing up 
The world is caving in 
The world has lost her way again 
But you are here with me 
But you are here with me 
Makes it ok 

I hear you still talk to me 
As if you're sitting in that dusty chair 
Makes the hours easier to bare 
I know despite the years alone 
I'll always listen to you sing your sweet song 
And if it's all the same to you 

I love you oh so well 
Like a kid loves candy and fresh snow 
I love you oh so well 
Enough to fill up heaven overflow and fill hell 
Love you oh so well 

And it's cold and darkness falls 
It's as if you're in the next room so alive 
I could swear I hear you singing to me 

I love you oh so well 
Like a kid loves candy and fresh snow 
I love you oh so well 
Enough to fill up heaven overflow and fill hell 
Love you oh so well 

The world is blowing up 
The world is caving in 
The world has lost her way again 
But you are here with me 
But you are here with me 
Makes it ok 
Oh girl you are singing to me still 
Like a kid loves candy and fresh snow 
I love you oh so well 
Enough to fill up heaven overflow and fill hell 
Love you oh so well 

The Problem With Love

The next time I decide to rescue another pet, please remind me of the pain there is at the end of the story.  It seems my Lexy has decided not to eat anymore.  It feels like hell for me.  I know she's probably suffering.  The only reason I'm writing now is so that I won't just sit staring while her head is in my lap. The weird thing is that I feel sort of numb, melancholy, not really wanting to move.



As always, it brings me to death. That's where all living things wind up, in the hands of death.  I have no idea where it will take my Lexy, where it will take me.  The most unbearable part is  the question do we, does she, just not exist anymore? It kills me to think about her breathing her last breath and going to......going to...nowhere



I've chosen to believe in heaven, and from the pain there is on earth, it would be difficult not to believe in hell.  But there is always that doubt.  There are some who say they are sure they will go to heaven, that there is an afterlife.  Maybe.  Still, I have my doubts. Not so many years ago I was one of those people who claimed to be sure.  I'm not though, not now, and I probably really wasn't sure then.
 

Lexy came to me about 15 years ago, almost 16.  She was abandoned with her brother at the church I used to go to.  Her brother was black, she was white.  She had been abused and neglected, it was obvious.  One of my students took her home as I already had two dogs.  But not too long later his mother angrily brought her back.  She said Lexy had ripped through her bathroom window, (trying to get out.) where she stayed eight hours a day.  Dear God!  I'd rip through a bathroom window as well.  My husband said that if I brought another dog home, it was either him or the dog  I chose the dog.  He stayed anyway.

When I took Lexy in to be spayed, the vet called me and told me he opened her up and there were puppies.  Basically she had an abortion.  I KNOW she grieved over those puppies!!  Lexy suffered severe anxiety and depression. She was on doggy depressants for about a year or so and they helped.  When she realized we were not going to abandon her, she started to mellow.

She would run like a gazelle and jump four foot fences like she was superwoman.  My husband and I would take her to fields and watch her run back and forth from him to me.  I could see the smile on her face. She loved that!  She did terrorize the neighbors though. They probably deserved it!



When I was going through the most difficult time of my life, she wouldn't leave my side. And when I would cry, she would land her sloppy kisses all over my face and wouldn't give up until I laughed.


Today I got home from work and saw vomit on the floor.  It was hers. She didn't keep her breakfast down. When I gave her a bowl of her favorite food, she turned her nose up at it and refused to take it from me.



Now, she is lying here, head on my lap, just lying here. I like it that way.  When her time comes, I really hope she will go in her sleep.  We had a dog who I prayed and prayed that he would be pain free and his death would be tolerable.  But it wasn't.  It was hell, He went through hell right up to the last minute.  I pray that Lexy has an easy death but honestly, that last experience is enough to get a little pissed at God.  Just a little; not a lot. I guess a better word would be disappointed, very,very disappointed.


I would really like to think Lexy haz a few more years; good years. But I don't think so.  Probably more like months, weeks, days, or even hours.  It kills me to know this.



This will probably not be my last blog about my friend.  However one of my most favorite authors ever, Anne Lamott, talks about death as if she read my mind:

"Death; wow. So f-ing hard to bear, when the few people you cannot live without die. You will never get over these losses, and are not supposed to. We Christians like to think death is a major change of address, but in any case, the person will live fully again in your heart, at some point, and make you smile at the MOST inappropriate times. But their absence will also be a lifelong nightmare of homesickness for you. All truth is a paradox. Grief, friends, time and tears will heal you. Tears will bathe and baptize and hydrate you and the ground on which you walk. The first thing God says to Moses is, "Take off your shoes." We are on holy ground. Hard to believe, but the truest thing I know."

Thoughts On True Friends

Friend:  one attached to another by affection or esteem.  That's the Merriam Webster definition. I love my friends, and I believe I know my friends well.   But there comes a time when something happens between two people, (or more) and you realize you were, or that particular person wasn't, a friend at all. Just an illusion of friendship. 



Acquaintance:  :  a person whom one knows but who is not a particularly close friend . That's what you find out instead. That's what I found out instead.  

It's never easy for me to realize someone just doesn't like me. A huge blow to the 'ole ego.  Yet one thing in life is true: "Understand that friends come and go, but a precious few, who you should hold on."  Baz Luhrmann

I have come to accept the fact that I'm not the easiest person to hang with. There are certain conditions I have that will define my close relationships. Trust is pretty huge.   You can trust me.







 I expect the same back. 


 Be real.  






I am, and if we're friends, I'm assuming you're being real too. 





 When we disagree, we do it with love and each of us, in the end, will say to one another, "You could be right."  If those four words are said, nothing can break us up. 




So I'm going to awkwardly, carefully, and probably not successfully write about what is "tugging on the sleeves of my heart."  I had some friends, now I don't.  Now I see it's not such a big deal as I hadn't shared anything truly close in my life with them. 






We had fun together, chatted and laughed together, and then, parted...went our separate ways. Sad...but now I'm getting used to the fact that it's true, really true, that a precious few you should hold to. 






  

“A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you.” 
― Elbert Hubbard

That sort of sums it up in a nutshell.  I'm so thankful for the friends who still love me despite knowing me to my very core, and yep, still loving me.