My Big Bro! Here's to You!

It' s probably one of the most beautiful days ever here in Phoenix.  It's still morning, but not for long.  My husband took the dogs to dog park and I'm sitting in my living room with all windows and doors open.  Heaven on earth!

But that's not why I'm writing.  On facebook, I saw an old picture, really old picture, 1964 old,  of my handsome brother singing in his band.




It brought back so many memories but mainly just thoughts of him and our relationship. They all came flooding back. He's not on fb so I don't "see" him much. Plus we both have our lives and we communicate a lot less than I'd like.  But c'est la vie.

I was a daddy's girl and then there was my brother. He was second in line of being a love of my life.  I mean, there's the title daddy's girl, but there's nothing significant for big brothers. That's a shame because there needs to be.






My big bro and I had a rocky relationship. We both had our own stories and although we grew up in the same household, had the same parents and family, as most know, each sibling experiences childhood in an entirely different way.  In any case, I fought with him a lot.  But there were really good times too.  He gave me advice and was always there. I idolized him, my girlfriends lusted after him and were totally infatuated by him, he was my best friend, my style icon, and someone I have admired . I still do to this day. As a boy growing up, to a teenager to the day he left for college in his little MG, he was fierce, courageous, stood up to the huge obstacles in his life, was talented, unbelievably creative,  and crazy intelligent.  Sometimes too intelligent for his own good.



So on this beautiful Saturday morning I was inspired to write, to let the world know how I love him, how I know he loves me and what a strong bond brothers and sisters have.  Although we have two younger sisters, my bro left when I was about 15, so he didn't really grow up with his other younger sisters like he and I did.  Always having the need to be someone's favorite, this makes me a little smug.  Don't take it wrong!

When I think of my brother there is one word that comes to mind: smooth.  Maybe it's because he is an incredible dancer and a basic style icon. Or maybe it's how he speaks.   He's smooth!  He's gracious and has the social skills of the most influential elite.  When you're with him having a conversation, you feel like you're the only one the room.  It seems as though he is listening with all his mind and heart.  You are his focus.






That's rare, and, I might add, that is a gift.

I miss him,







 but I know life's course. In any case, I was thinking of him, knowing he reads this every now and then,  I wanted to honor him.  I want the world to know, he's one of the top men in my life and for that, I am grateful!  Here's to you Clyde William, I wish we could share a glass of red and sit on my beautiful patio and shoot the breeze.  xoxoxo

Rainy Night In Phoenix

It's a rainy night in Phoenix. The slow, steady kind of rain...the kind with rhythm.





 It rarely rains like this. Usually the evening sky is as open as a playing field waiting for it's next game. Not tonight. The colors before sunset were magnificent.  But I must say.  I'm not a fan of rain. It's grey and reminds me of tears.  Giant tears from all the pain this imperfect world needs to shed.




 I know, rather dramatic.


 But I mean it. I don't like rain much.  And I didn't realize it until I moved here. I thought I was this great fan of all the four seasons the great plains had to offer. However, I slowly started to realize that my favorite season, fall, was limited to about six nice days that didn't feel like hellish "Indian Summer", or freezing winter.



Then, I moved to the desert and had this sort of aha moment.  I knew that sunshine really did put a smile on my face, palm trees are wispy, but beautiful and happy, and living without oak trees made the sky open up as I've never seen before.




My beautiful little sister posted this quote on my fb page:



So with that, where do I start?  What should I focus on?  Death?  I love that subject. Aliens? Not so much, but I would indulge.  Sex? Always! Magic? Indeed! Intellect? Sometimes. The meaning of life? YES!






So,at church today I interpreted what the pastor spoke about to sort of fit into this category.  The meaning of life...Now, before I begin to ponder, just remember I am writing from this type of mood:  My beloved dog, companion and confidant just drowned in our little fountain out back.  I had a very bad week at work, and because of the latter, my self confidence has been dashed upon rock as a lost ship in a huge storm out at sea.  Last but not least, I am old and still have a house payment.

hmmmmmmmmm...You probably should stop reading here if you want encouragement...because you wont' get that from my blog..the blog where I vent and not many people read it anyway so go for it Peggy!


In my 40's and 50's I was full of hope and purpose. I believe I helped many kids reach their full academic potential and I feel that I had almost saved my part of the world. Now, in my 60's, I'm not so sure and I'm tired.







The world has changed. Even the educational world is just a place where data is what rules in each student's life and paperwork is as important as personal and professional relationships.





I'm old. I don't seem to fit into that frame of thinking. I'm not sure if I want to. Yet until my house is paid off, I can't move.  I carry on.



It's a rainy night in Phoenix. Rain has always given me a sort of melancholy mood.  So it's befitting for it to rain tonight.

I am one of the fortunate ones. I have the most amazing, beautiful, intelligent, talented gradkids on the face of God's earth. (And yes, the earth REALLY does belong to God in spite of all the damn nut jobs.)  I live for these babies; for these individuals who are growing up in this complicated world with the intelligence of someone I wouldn't have even began to imagine "in my day".






My grand daughter Maya for instance. I had the privilege of being able to watch my grandkids while my daughter and son in law went to party on Saturday night. (My daughter was all like, "I'm so grateful for you mom, watching my kids.) But I AM SO GRATEFUL for her having these children that are part of my heritage, part of my blood. And I get to be with them.  Soooo...Maya, my grand daughter, wasn't feeling well. It was sweet lying with her on her sick bed, chatting about life.

She said something like, "Poppy, (that is what SHE named me. Thank God, because I'm not fond of the name "grandma".)  you were really a "real" hippy weren't you?"  "Of course!" I answered, "Welll, yeah, I really was."

The rain has stopped now. Even the slow, steady rains don't go on too long here in the desert. I'm glad of that. So I"m going to end this rambling blog.  Life is funny.  If you don't remember one thing I have to say, remember just this: It goes by way too fast.  And suddenly you're gone. Like my Lexy.  You're damn gone.  And there ya have it.  Good night Phoenix.  I love you!

Missing Lexy

As I was driving home from an early morning workout, that dull ache hit me like  when you swallow something bitter, not knowing it's bitter. I miss Lexy.  Moving slowly and not having a lot of tolerance lately I realize it's just grief.  So on the way home I was able to cry a little. As I looked up at the morning sun coloring the sky, I saw a sort of arrow shaped cloud. It reminded me of Lexy and how fast she used to run.  How she LOVED to run  and jump.  The cloud seemed to follow me. I hope it was her letting me know she's whole again.

I miss her so badly.




 But I started missing her when she was going down hill. I didn't think about missing her then, my mind was only focused on making her comfortable and trying to find ways to help her with now uncontrollable bladder.

She wasn't a cuddler. She didn't warm up to people quickly at all. She would have happily lived without them, But not me. I was her savior. Saving her from horrible abuse.  I think she was always very grateful for that. Before me she lived a very painful life. Someone brought her and her male companion to our church.  I tried to give her to a student of mine, but the mother brought her back as angry as hell. Apparently Lexy dug out a hole in her bathroom window trying to get out. The woman kept her in the bathroom all day while no one was home. Lexy wasn't having that.  So that was that, I brought her home. She'd throw up in the car each time she would go anywhere with us. I had to put her on doggie anti-depressants. I had a little school in the second story of the church where she was originally  brought with her little friend.  Once when I took her to work with me she went to the place where she had last seen her friend.  She spent quite a while sniffing and look ing for him. It was just sad. It seemed though, that I knew what was going on her head.  Right after I took her home for good, I knew she had to be fixed When the doctor opened her to neuter her, there were puppies.  How tragic is that?  I think she fell into a depression because of losing her puppies.


 I just sort of knew.






I tried to give her good, relatively happy life and I think I succeeded. She was most happy when she was running. She didn't need a lot of petting or physical contact, but she had to be right there next to me.  In the end, I would cuddle her a little when I would pick her up to take her back to her bed.  I would sometimes lay on the floor and say her name in her ear in a high tone; it seemed like she heard it.  I miss her and wish I would have held her more before she died.

It's just dull.  It's not sharp. The pain that is. The missing her thing...it's dull and achey like arthritis.  When I was young the stupid adults back then didn't put emphasis on how very important our four legged family members were. As a matter of fact they didn't consider them family members, just animals that were to be kept outside. I mean sure there might have been some exceptions, but not many I remember having a couple over one very cold, snowy evening.  There was dog shit in our front yard.  We weren't able to clear it very well. The woman actually said she was offended by the dog shit. I never quit thinking of that and her insensitive comment.  For God's sake, it's my home, just leave then, right?  Today I would have told her to go home and never come back .

I miss Lexy.  I'm doing things slower and a every now and then it hits me.  I wish I would have done so much more.  I loved that dog.

Tribute to Lexy

Dear Lexy,

I am so sorry I was not there to rescue you from the way you died. I'm just sorry. I don't know what else I can say.  I feel as though I failed you, but I know I really didn't.  You knew I loved you the best I could.  There are regrets. I wish I had taken you out more in the end. I was going to get a stroller so I could we could go on walks.   I wanted you to be able to sniff at the air and feel the sun.



This little letter is a tribute to you. You were one of a kind, that's for sure.  A survivor.  My heart hurt for you because of your severe abuse before I met you. But I won't get into that.  You finally felt safe with me and knew I wouldn't give up  or send you away, or punish you.  I remember when we put you and Murray in the basement and closed the door when we left. You both had run of the basement, which was large, and everything you needed from toys to food. But when we got home, you had managed to dig a hole in the door and get back up to where you could jump up on the bed.  You were a determined girl!!  ...all we could was scratch our heads in amazement and laugh.

Speaking of jumping...although the neighbors hated it, you were able to jump our four foot fence like a gazelle and then run like the wind. You were beautiful and graceful and a princess who later turned into the queen of the house.  When we took you to dog park, you could have cared less about the space or the other dogs.  You stayed by my side and jumped up and down like a yoyo.  It was pretty funny.


But the bond you made with me in my lowest, most difficult time was something that would make you a part of my soul forever. You kissed away my tears and became a part of my survival.  You were my angel and stayed by my side like an intensive care nurse.  I can't thank you enough for that.  When I would travel alone, I wasn't alone, you were there, in the back seat, sharing the experience.

Then a little over a year ago you quit going with Phil on the daily hikes. At first you stood by the gate and watched them leave. I could see the disappointment in your eyes.  One day you just quit standing and watching;  you accepted the fact you would probably never climb the hill again. I still took  you to dog park though.  Even if I had to carry you part of the way. You sat with me and watched Tasha and Milo play and explore. Sometimes you too would venture off to take in all the sights and smells.

I've had so many other dogs in my life, so many that I have loved, but I loved you deeper because of our bond. You would bark or do something strange and I was always able to interpret what you were trying to communicate.  Even Phil saw this.  So this is my good bye, this is my little tribute, this is to say I love you and miss you so.  I miss your love, your little white self, I miss your dark, black eyes that showed so much expression. I miss your smile.  You hadn't smiled for a long time. I hope you're running free now, smiling like you used to when you ran like a bullet between Phil and I in the field.

I will never get "over" your absence but only learn to live with it.  A friend of mine told me that my father was there when you crossed over. Dad knew more than anyone at that time how much I loved my pets.  And the weird thing is, after my friend texted me that, it wasn't too much later that Ian texted me that someone up there was watching because "The Cubbies just made the playoff series." Dad was crazy passionate about his Cubbies.  Maybe he really was there for you. I'd like to believe that.


In the meantime I'll look for your face in the clouds,




I'll listen for your bark in the middle of the night,



 I'll hope to see you in my dreams,






 and I'll try to feel your love when I need you the most.






 I hope I was there for you when you needed love and nurturing.  But you were there for me so much more. Thank you for that my little queen.

From your loving friend and lifetime companion!



The world is much more quiet today
everything seems as if time is slow motion,
very still

Your heart no longer beats
Your breath no longer rises and falls
Your eyes now absent
What's left is a shell
once a part of you.

If God is God
Then your soul has wings
 you have flown away
from  pain
from your body
but also from me

I release you and hope that my grief won't hold you back
If God is God
it won't.

Thinking of Mom

My mother has been gone now for years.




 I don't really keep track. But one thing is true, I think of her every day.  I believe I thought of her everyday when she was alive too; I guess that's what it is with daughters and mothers. I've said it so many times and it's true, she taught me how to love. That's the main thing that I remember about my relationship with her. She is part of my soul and nothing will ever change that, not even time. 




 She died on a brisk day one October morning.  My father had already been dead ten years so when she left, things were just so final, so changed.  Death visits us all, and there is nothing we can do about it.  It's mysterious and dark.  Many people say that they will meet Jesus or something else to that effect.  I hope so..I hope I'll  meet him because there's a lot I want to ask him.  But I also want to meet the others whom I have loved and who have gone on, including my four legged loved loves.

It's a wonderfully cool October morning. I'm getting ready to go to work, sitting up in bed, looking out over the sunny red tile roofs, the green trees, the shaggy palms and the soft foothills.  The sun and birds are the smile on my face, the sweetness in my heart.  But my mother is the foundation of my love. Thanks mom, I still hope I make you proud! kisses from this world!....your Pegala