Doing Life

Doing life.  Right?  How does one do life?  It's a long journey.  Childhood, youth, teens, young adults and then of course adults.


What the hell?  Then you die.







 Yes, but there's a long time between birth and life. And a whole lot of hope. Hope is the key isn't it?  It has to be. If not why bother?  You tell me.



 I'm now a mother of grown adults.  And it's no different from being a mother of tiny kids.  I still feel as though I'm in my teens.  My ideals, my hopes, my dreams. But I'm not.  I'm in my sixties. Yeah, that's right...my sixties. Where did life go? Why so little time and why did it take me this long.





 
We can't separate ourselves from anyone. If we think we can we're living a lie.  It's not true. It's not the way God made it. That's why he told us to love our enemies. If we don't, we will only not love ourselves. And if we don't love ourselves, then ....well....then there leaves only a tiny space for hope. To me hope is life, it's what keeps us alive.



On this Easter  I want to proclaim my love of Christ and his sacrifice. I want to say that He is very  personal to me...my love, my friend, my God my HOPE.  Life is rough...there is little hope without him. I  hope you choose to look to HIM as your hope. You won't be disappointed. You may be lonely, you may feel like a failure, you may be sad, but you will have hope.



I know that dying is scary to us
but everybody do it one, two, three
On the sidewalk, the dandelion
is reaching from a crack up to the sun .

dmb

Happy Easter all!  Happy Resurrection Day...He came back from death.  It's our day!!!  

Alternate World

Where do I begin?  There are  times in my life I coast sweetly down the smooth streets of life.  Until....until I unquestionably make a turn, like clockwork really. It's a stop sign and I turn without a thought.  And there it is... a small place I sort of recognize.





  I have almost forgotten it altogether; until now.  Picture a movie from the 1950's, no color. It's that place where I've landed.  The color is back over the hill, or the corner, or where ever I seem to have just been.  But now it seems like at a thousand years ago.



It's a place that makes me think of being alive. It makes me stop and count what matters....what life is, what life could be, what life could have been, a slower pace with more thought into everything. It's not sad, or happy, but it's peaceful and accepting.  My values are settled when I'm here and the truth is clear at every corner.  There are no words. Just a sort of melancholy.

The only words I relate to, that inspire me are, of course, Dave's...of Dave Matthews. His lyrics to Black and Blue Bird.  But it's the tune that carries me. Have a listen and enjoy!

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"Black And Bluebird"

If I could fly at the speed of light, I
could get to Canis Major in five thousand years
Butterflies and black and bluebirds
I’ll never be the same since I met you
Pennies thrown into a fountain
Make a wish, blow out the candles, take a breath
God is troubling when you consider
believers that would welcome the end of the world

Got a job and it pays me
I want love more than I deserve
I read the paper, makes me crazy
There’s gotta be a way to make it work, oh

Ashes, stardust,
look at us crawling out the mud
Let’s go around the block
we’ll make the most before the jig is up
Dreamers, the big talk,
we’ll never know the thickest never stop
Ashes, stardust,
look at us crawling out the mud

I know that dying is scary to us
but everybody do it one, two, three
On the sidewalk, the dandelion
is reaching from a crack up to the sun
Words can be a wicked tool
For twisting truth I wanna be true to you
Blood and bones, black holes and stones,
all those things pave the way for you and me

Got a job and it pays me
I want love more than I deserve
I read the paper, makes me crazy
There’s gotta be a way to make it work, oh

Ashes, stardust,
look at us crawling out the mud
Let’s go around the block
we’ll make the most before the jig is up
Campfires and high rise
you never did quite know when to stop
Ashes, stardust,
look at me crawling out the mud

If I could fly at the speed of light, I
could get to Betelgeuse in about six hundred years
Butterflies and black and bluebirds
I’ll never be the same since I met you
Baby, dying is scary to us
But everybody do it A, B, C
God is troubling when I consider
believers that would welcome the end of the world

Got a job and it pays me
I want love more than I deserve
I read the paper, makes me crazy
There’s gotta be a way to make it work, oh

Ashes, stardust
look at us crawling out the mud
Let’s go around the block
we’ll make the most before the jig is up
Ashes, stardust
look at us crawling out the mud
Ashes, stardust
look at me crawling out the mud

Butterflies and black and bluebirds
I’ll never be the same since I met you
If I could fly at the speed of light, I
could get to Betelgeuse in about six hundred years
Butterflies and black and bluebirds

To My Son

To my son:

The first twenty or more years of a boy's life he spends trying to cut the apron strings.





 After that, his life develops, his thoughts become his own decisions and he is walking, one step at a time, on his own.  No one is helping him really.






 He finds a soul mate, a partner, a beautiful wife who loves him endlessly, through thick and thin, good times bad times, you know the vows.







After that first twenty years then, a mother starts to really, really let go.






 You know the saying, "A daughter is a daughter all her life.A son is a son until he takes a wife."  Lots of truth in that.  But let me indulge on some motherly sentiments.  A mother's love is probably the closest to God's love I've ever experienced.







That's how it was with my mother.  I say that not because it's more powerful than a person and their soul mate.  I say that because as a mother, I feel a little like God.  I know, that sounds extremely arrogant.  But it's true. If God loves us no matter what, that's what mothers do.  Fortunately you are successful; at least you should know that you are. Maybe  sometimes you think you 'could have, should have, would have', (or maybe not) but you need to know I am so proud of you; everything about you.  The way you think, the way you are.  NEVER doubt that.

I used to think we thought so much alike. I'm not so sure anymore. It's too presumptuous for me to think that.  But we do like the same type of music. That's fantastic because music is my second language.

With that I'll close.  Be patient with me. I'm getting older and although I may have a long time left; I may not.








So I think differently now.  Just a little anyway.  I'm trying to be better, I'm trying to be at peace with myself and God.  It's going really well too. I'm probably happier than I've ever been.  More confident, more at peace.






But one thing I want you always to remember: I'm proud of you, of your heart, of your mind, of your choices.  Don't be too hard on yourself, but don't let yourself get away with a lot either.  If you feel loved, which I hope you do, give it back to someone.





 If you stop and think about how many people love, that's a lot of love.  Take time to feel it.  Then give it back to someone, anyone, but always give love.  I love you son.  Just wanted to let you know.

Advent: the Waiting Game

It's the Christmas season. In particular it's advent. Advent to me denotes waiting. Waiting for the promise. Maybe that's why I get all nostalgic.  As C.S. Lewis said, "we know we were made for better than this." Better than political arrogance, better than mass shootings, better than religious take overs, better than.....well...better than this.


I think of loved ones whom I have loved and are now gone.  Gone from my life or gone in general. I miss them.  I miss the people who were ruthlessly murdered in Paris, in San Bernadino at a holiday party no less.






 It's difficult not to be overwhelmed with hopelessness. Then there are those who are religious... they area a part of my religion, and they blame it all on our president.  It makes me so angry and yet my anger is not justified.  I hear this still small voice saying "love them, forgive them, pray for them."



"Peace on earth, good will to men."  What happened?  As I sit here with my sweet granddog I see she is just exhausted. She is away from her routine. Dogs are creatures of habit, just like us.  She adores my son and every time he goes away she frets.  Her pretty little eyes don't sparkle as much and she is constantly waiting for his return.  She is so exhausted and as I stroke her sweet little nose and as I very, very quietly assure her she's okay, her heavy eyes slowly yield to my voice, to my soft strokes.  She is at peace. Her eyes close and she is snoring.  She's so sweet and so special to me. She's probably one of the most sensitive dogs I have ever met.

I think we're like that to God.  God knows that beneath our big boy and girl panties we're scared shitless at the world, at all that is going on.  We grieve for the losses; we try to not think about it, but it continues to haunt us by reoccurring events.


We're in the season of advent, of waiting. Waiting for the promise of peace on earth goodwill to men.  Waiting for the light that shines in the darkness.Some of my more religious friends will say that light came with the birth of Christ. And yes, I sort of agree, but it sure the hell seems dark to me right now. Lives have been senselessly blown away.  I can't fathom how their families feel. I don't even want to know.  But what I am looking for is the end of the story. The end of the story when the light comes and never, ever goes away. I'm hoping it's not too far off.

Sunday Morning Oration

I think life is a roller coaster.





 Have you seen the movie "Parenthood".  In one scene it shows the contrast between the mother and the father as they're riding on a roller coaster.  The way they respond to the fast ups and downs of the ride is a metaphor on their views of life; of parenting.




The look on the face of one parent is excitement, joy; delight, glee and almost rapture. While the other parent is gripping the handrail with a look of complete terror on his face. When it comes to parenting and family responsibilities, I"m the one gripping the handrail.  I can't help it, it's in my genetic make up.  However, I can try to manage it and I do, on a daily basis.  That's one of the reasons I have chosen to have faith in God, in a  power higher than me.  I came into this world thinking that there really is no one that can help, that's bigger than me.  I had this dark revelation at an early age.  Probably about eight.


Yet in 1972 I had another revelation. And that was seeing Jesus as God.






Seeing Jesus as human, yet not human.  Seeing him as this person who speaks from the other side. Seeing him as this person who while on earth, was a crazy radical that the government and the religious people couldn't control. But most importantly, as the story goes, he was a person whose physical body came back from death. That was the icing on the cake for me.  It still is when it comes to faith. It's what separates him from Buddah, whom I deeply respect, or any other great "teacher".  Jesus was not just a great teacher.  He called a dead person back from the grave, physically,




he healed people, he walked on water, he controlled water.  WOW!  That's crazy. He also was angry, at least once.  And it's recorded that he was angry at the money changers in the temple.  He threw stuff and he probably yelled.  He was obviously very disturbed by the whole situation.

Now, I'm not using his experience as a total comparison to me and how I sometimes feel.  But at least it gives me hope and lets me know that this person who I have accepted as God was like me.  He got pissed off... Really pissed off and threw things around.



Here's the deal.  I'm angry right now at a few things.  I'm angry at the way some people just go to church on Christmas, and other times criticize the church for all their faults. I'm annoyed with them because they're a whole lot like all the people they criticize and they truly don't see it.  They have turned from the faith they were anchored in because the boat capsized.



 For that, I understand , although I don't agree with their philosophy. I think they gave up way too early.  And I'm annoyed because even though I know there is no real security in this world, I still believe I'm right about having faith in Christ and I so want them to join me in the faith.  I believe that the answers to their problems in life, in relationships is still in Christ himself.  What a dilemma that is !!



 I am annoyed at how religious people, people who claim to be Christians, are using the word "wisdom" concerning the refugee situation, when it's really just fear. They are afraid of our enemy and it is very obvious.  They are afraid that if we love too much, we will die.  Fear of death and losing control.  I thought we were supposed to sacrifice our lives as Christians.  Isn't this the perfect time for that? I mean Jesus knew he would die, he knew that even though he said some crazy things, and pissed off the religious leaders, he still taught the greatest of anything is love.  He still told us to forgive, to love and to give of ourselves no matter what the cost. He taught this not only from his words, but by his example of how he lived while here on this earth.

I mean what if Jesus' followers sort of freaked when they realized that the religious leaders were getting really upset to the point of telling the Roman government to just do what they needed to do .  What if his followers said something like, "Jesus, think about it.  Go to the desert and hide because you know they're after you.  We can't lose you. We're just getting set up with this whole thing you're teaching. And what if, I mean what if they come after us? Think Jesus, it's not just your life we're talking about, it's us too. We totally admire you for all you've been teaching, but you need to have just a little common sense."   

I'm also really annoyed that people have skewed the message of Jesus to fit their Western cultural view of the American dream.   These are people who desperately want security. They desperately want to believe that if they live right, pray, say the pledge of allegiance, go to church every Sunday, work hard and make sure they have a retirement account, and teach their children to do the same, they will be protected.



 Protected from what,  I'm not too sure. One thing I am sure of though, we all wind up at death's door. We all die alone. We all go through the valley of death, and as many near death experiences I have read about in my life, and I have read a lot, we still don't know what it's like to die.



 I wish we could have a little car or train or some other vehicle that would take us to the other side where we would be able to get a glimpse and listen to the 'wisdom' of the others who have gone before us.  Well,obviously it's not going to happen. But Jesus was there on the other side, he did come back and that's why I listen to him; read his story.

It's Sunday morning and I'm gong to church soon.  I go because it helps me feel connected. I"ve chosen this church in particular because the pastor is intelligent enough to know that the church's message is not about how to live in a bubble, and it's not about politics, but it's about our personal faith in Jesus Christ.

So happy Sunday people....If I dont' see you before, I'll see you on the other side?

Dear Lexy

Dear Lexy,

I can't tell you how much I think of you. It's crazy. I think of you so many times a day. I can't pass that little fountain where you died without feeling horrible.  It's so empty without you.  People don't understand what it's like. I am told by my more sensitive friends that maybe you're still hanging around. I wish I could feel that more. I wish there was something more tangible between here and there.


I ache to have you here and to hold your little fluffy self.  I cry alone, I see your face all the time, and I feel like so f(*king failed you.  I wish I could do so much over.  There was the cutest dog I almost adopted, but I started thinking about how high maintenance your brother Milo and your sister Tasha is and I had to decide against it. Also, if I would have adopted her, it would only have been because I was looking to replace you and our relationship. Nothing will ever do that. And when I realized that, I sort of broke down. You were with me so long. We would take trips from Kansas City to Springfield together. You were a fantastic travelling partner.  God knows how much I miss you.


I love you Lex, and I miss you like crazy...really I do!  There are no words to describe the ache.  I would take you and hold when you were so old and I would stroke your old body and you knew.  You knew the bond and I believe you felt the same as I did.

I hope God has a special place for souls like yours.  I miss you so much!

Your human,

Peggy

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