Catching myself

Monday, September 19, 2022, came and like every year before, I let it go; but not before marking it with a few minutes spent in silent vigil remembering you.

Privately.

No post on social media announcing to everyone what Monday meant to me, mainly because very few people within my social media circle ever met you. Most everyone I know today have no idea who you were, so why should I expect them to care when there was never any connection between you and them? But mostly because on the night you left, and in the days that followed, no one reached out to comfort me. No one. From that experience I began to realize the truth in the words you always told me..."Be your own best friend, because the only person you can ever depend on, is yourself."

I always wondered why a mother would tell that to her daughter. Today I know it was because that was your reality, it is what you knew. You knew that people can only love and support others to the extent of the love and support they received in the past. You were trying to protect me from ever knowing the pain you felt. Did it work? Sometimes. But then there are the times I found myself longing for someone to be there, to catch me when I fell. Today I can tell you I have mastered the art of catching myself when I fall; but truth be told, sometimes I wish I had a safe place to land outside of myself.

There are days when I wonder. I wonder what you would think about the world today. I wonder how you would behave on social media. I wonder if you would even be on social media. I wonder if all the advice and wisdom you handed down to me during my formative years of childhood would be any different today if you had experienced more decades of your life. I wonder what your face would look like, gazing upon the face of your grandchild, or great grandchild.

It's been 44 years since you left us. Yet on days like this, it feels like only yesterday.

Of all the things you gave me mom, it is your smile I treasure the most. It is the one thing I vow no one will ever take from me.

Wonder...

 I hope I never grow tired of looking up to the night sky, the feel of a gentle breeze on my cheeks, of watching cream make galaxies in my coffee. I hope I never grow to be someone who can no longer see the small, beautiful things in each day of my life. I hope I never lose my sense of wonder. 

Capturing December, day 28

 Capturing December, photo a day challenge. 

Day 28. Words.

#capturingdecember #capturingdecemberchallenge #december2021 #photochallenge #winter

Of these things...

For as long as I can remember, I have felt myself pulled toward the unusual. What-you-could-call the out of the ordinary. Things others may not hold as truths. Esoterics. If our experiences shape our beliefs, then my experiences have created in me the ability to keep an open mind. To see possibilities. Because anything is possible.

I don't believe in coincidence. Well, now that's a handy little contradiction, isn't it? Anything is possible, but I don't believe in concidence. Okay--but here's the thing--I do believe in synchronicity. 

If you've been reading or following my journal, then you know I've had some unusual experiences in my life...okay, some may be an understatement because there have been many. Some I share and talk about, others I keep to myself. 

Everything happens for a reason, of that I am certain.

I'll just get to the point. I love animals, especially horses, cats and dogs. My top three. At the barn where I board my two horses we have several cats ranging in age from 15 years to 1 year. Hard to believe a barn cat in the country has lived 15 years with coyotes and speeding vehicles always near-by, but it's true. That's Sylvester, a big floofy tuxedo male; he's a survivor in every sense of the word. Sylvester's best bud is...or was...Mr. Thomas, a ginger tabby who came to live at the barn as a kitten with his gray tabby litter mate in 2009. Unfortunately a few months after moving in, the gray tabby disappeared--we don't know what happened to him, could be someone fell in love with him and took him home, or something else. We'll never know, he just disappeared.

But I digress. Back to Mr. Thomas, who began to show signs of his age this summer, losing weight and looking poorly as the weeks passed. Myself and two other boarders who share the responsibility of caring for our barn kitties did everything we could to help him gain weight; one gave him vegetable oil, I brought him canned cat food. For a short time he improved, but by the end of August he started losing weight again, he became lethargic, showed interest in food but ate very little. It was clear he wouldn't make it through the harsh winter weather. We started to worry that one day Thomas would just wander off the way cats do when it's their time. Neither of us wanted that for him, all things considered. And yet, I guess we three held on to a thread of hope that maybe we were wrong, and Thomas would improve. 

Thomas, July 2020. In better days, healthy and happy.

A couple of weeks ago, Thomas showed all the signs that it was time to make a difficult decision on his behalf. He had no interest in food, appeared to be extremely weak, and his eyes were dull and empty. After encouraging him to eat something, unsuccessfully, and giving his boney body some extra pets and love, I stepped away knowing it was time. Before I left the barn for home, I turned and gave Thomas one last look. It broke my heart. I contacted my barn kitty caretaker team and we all agreed. The next day, Monday, September 20, while I was at work they took him to the vet to put an end to his suffering. Sometime between 12:30 and 3:10 Thomas crossed the rainbow bridge. Being at work, hearing the news was difficult. I closed my office door and wept for the loss of my sweet ginger boy. Silly I know, but he was such a love-bug and very picky about making friends with people.

My work place is downtown in a non-residential area. Next door is city hall, and the next block over is the county court house and city police department. That day I left work at 5:00 p.m. as I have nearly every day for the last five years. Before I reached my vehicle, with thoughts of Thomas on my mind, I glanced up momentarily and something caught my eye, then stopped me in my tracks. My heart leapt. I pulled my mobile phone out of my purse, switched on the camera and took a photo. Sitting next to the city hall building was a cat. Not just any cat, but a big, ginger tabby cat who closely resembled Mr. Thomas. 

For five years I have walked out of that building at least twice a day, and in all those days I have only seen that ginger tabby cat once (maybe a year ago). The irony wasn't lost on me. I lingered for a moment before walking on to my vehicle. Once inside, I shared the photo I took with my two barn kitty caretaker teammates. The consensus was clear. This was Thomas, letting me know he was fat and happy.

The ginger cat who appeared to me just hours after Thomas crossed the rainbow bridge.

Oddly enough the cat who appeared was a manx, which really means nothing, until you consider the fact that one of the two women who took Thomas to the vet that day also has a manx cat at home. A ginger tabby manx. When I told her the cat I saw outside my work was also a manx, she replied "That's his nod to me that it's ok." I smiled at her reply, then looked up from my mobile phone, but the cat had disappeared. Probably off to do cat stuff.

I think about Thomas every day. I know Sylvester misses his friend, those first few days it saddened me to see Syl sitting alone, waiting for me with that question in his eyes. Where is my friend? We hope he will buddy up with one of the younger kitties but so far he prefers to be alone. 

The world is full of possibilities. Do you notice those little things that happen every day? Those nuances that could bring joy, wisdom, or maybe just a sense of peace to your soul. Open your heart, pay attention, hone your awareness. Sometimes it's those little glimpses, appearing in the blink of an eye, that may carry a small message. A message just for you. A message you didn't know you needed in that moment, that could make all the difference for the rest of your days. You won't forget those moments, and you won't regret the awareness. 

Life is pretty amazing when you stop and look around you.

Lessons learned

M.E.M. (Moms Eternal Memories)

You can't judge a book by its cover.

I have a secret. Many actually. A lifetime of secrets.

And one day in high school in a creative writing class I decided to write a book about my life. I had a story to tell. At least at that point of time I believed I did.

It's been said, be careful what you wish for because you just might get it. A lot of truth there, I can tell you. At the time I knew I had a powerful story to share. Little did I know then, what I had experienced in the first seventeen years of my life would be just the beginning. What lied ahead, waiting for me around the corner were moments that, as I sit here now I find my whole body shaking and tears welling in my eyes with just the simple thought. Memories. You just never know.

My eyes have seen things I can't unsee. My heart has felt heartbreak so overwhelmingly profound I wondered if life was worth living. My ears have heard words filled with hatred so deep that just one tone of voice can paralyze me. And my body has felt pain so intense it literally shut down to spare me from the intensity.

But through it all I found my saving grace. The human spirit. Mine.

Lessons learned.

I am a love child of the late 1950s. My parents never married and went their separate ways before I turned two. I am an adult survivor of horrific child abuse at the hands of an evil monster named Beulah. My mother trusted her, but Beulah regularly stripped me of my clothing and beat me with the buckle end of a belt until I blacked out from the pain. At night she filled my bladder with water before putting me to bed. And then beat me if I got out of bed to use the bathroom. For no reason. I'll never know why. But once the abuse was discovered mom stepped in and stopped it. Shortly after that I took my first plane ride at the age of three from Los Angeles to Portland, Oregon, alone. Jealousy and a lie became the wedge placed between my father and I which resulted in his complete removal from my life. I was raised by an alcoholic step-father, a man I both loved and feared. Placed in the role of father to an instant family he tried but I believe he was unprepared for life as an adult. So he turned to alcohol. More than once I witnessed him beat my mother after drinking heavily. Abuse. Separation. Abandonment. Violence. Alcoholism. Dysfunction. My life encapsulated all these experiences before I reached my thirteenth year on this planet.

They fought constantly, until she had enough and moved me and my two younger sisters from Los Angeles back to her home town of Clarkston. But this time she was unprepared for what lied ahead. Through the eyes of a teenager I watched with delight as mom found the love of her life in another man. It was short lived. Three years into their relationship he disappeared unexpectedly and mom desperately searched for him. And through those same eyes I watched my mother fall to pieces when it all finally got to her and she suffered a nervous breakdown. Our roles reversed as I bathed her, dressed her and fed her until she regained her mental capacity. Then a year later came the phone call. They found him. Hanging from a tree outside Portland, Oregon. And from that moment my mother lost all hope. Helpless against the tides of change I watched her slowly spiral out of control. We fought constantly and she turned to prescription drugs to ease the pain. I turned to illegal drugs to numb the pain. Life went from bad to worse. She kicked me out of the house, then would beg me to come back, over and over and over again. It became a vicious cycle. Divorce. Mental breakdown. Suicide. Substance abuse. More dysfunction. My life unfolded all these experiences before I reached my twenty-first year on this planet.

And then shortly after my twenty-first birthday, and mom's forty-first, she unexpectedly died. 

People can and do die from a broken heart. I know it happens. Unable to replenish her supply from the well of life, her spirit just ran out and she felt defeated. So she gave up.

I won't give up. I refuse to. Over the course of my life, yes, I had those thoughts. But I pushed them aside with a resounding NO! Not me. I have not survived all I've been through just to end it all like that. No. Not this girl. When those thoughts used to come they were immediately followed by the knowledge that I wanted to meet the woman I am learning to become. I want to know who I will be. And I still do.

You see, I have a confession. I love to read. And at some point when I began to read a new book, I'd get about twenty pages into it before I'd want to know how it would end. So I'd find the last page and read the last paragraph just to be sure it wasn't one of those stories with a bad ending, you know.

Upon hearing about my early child abuse, a good friend commented that her life was boring. That nothing ever happened to her. I had to laugh. Be thankful. If you've had a good life where laughter outweighed tears, ask yourself if you would rather trade places with me. I mean, really, would you want to? Just because you didn't experience sweeping highs and crashing lows doesn't mean you haven't lived. I'm thankful for your life because it helps to balance out mine. If not for those of you who had happy childhoods and a relatively easy life I might not have found the balance I needed to carry on. Because through it all someone was always there in my life whose eyes hadn't seen what I've seen. They bring a different perspective to life.

My eyes have seen things I can't unsee, and because of that I learned to find the beauty in everything. My heart has felt heartbreak so overwhelmingly profound I wondered if life was worth living, and because of that I learned the value of empathy. My ears have heard words filled with hatred so deep that just one tone of voice can paralyze me, and because of that I learned to dance to the music of harmony. And my body has felt pain so intense it literally shut down to spare me from the intensity, and because of that I learned coping skills that helped to compel me forward in difficult situations.

Lessons learned.

If I could have one wish, it would be that someday the memories of my early childhood will no longer hurt. That the day will come when I can remember what Beulah did to me without the pain and the tears. And then I will be free.

I don't like using labels on people, but sometimes it helps us understand. And I recently learned many adult survivors deal with something called attachment [edit: corrected to change detachment to attachment] disorder. Knowing that helps me to understand why I do what I do sometimes. And with this knowing comes awareness. So I'm working to overcome that as well.

One day at a time.



If you want to judge me, fine, judge me. But only if you can prove to me that you actually know what it's like to walk in my shoes.

M.E.M.

Never judge your neighbor until you've walked a mile in their shoes.

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