Crazy Life

Happy Easter to everyone.

The last 4 days have just been crazy.

I had watched the movie Hairspray and it brought back lots of memories of living in Baltimore when we were kids. I thought those memories would make a good blog. I barely got started writing the blog and got the news that my mother was in the hospital. Things went downhill after that. I did speak to her at the hospital and am glad I did that. She acted as if we had just spoken yesterday.

My computer was attacked with spyware on the 31st. The ultimate invasion of privacy, to my way of thinking. The bad thing is not just what that does to you but it assaults everyone in your address book. I hope it hasn't caused problems for anyone else. Hopefully no one was affected except with embarrassment. It linked to a Viagra site in Canada. I have no idea how I got it. I am so careful about what I open.

On the 1st my mother passed away. My brothers Ken and John were with her at Ken's house. I know this will be very hard on them and wish I could be there, if only for them. I think my Aunt Irene and Aunt Betty will miss her very much and I know her two granddaughters are hurting right now. I hope this mends any hard feelings left in the family. Funerals are hard enough without carrying all the other baggage. My mother didn't actually raise me but the fact is, she was my mother and I am very sad that she is gone. It broke my heart later when I got a message on my voicemail from my brother John. He was trying so hard to be brave (for everyone else) but he could barely hold his tears back. I wish I had been there to give him a great big hug. I do believe that my mother is in a better place. All the pain and disappointments of this life are over. She was diagnosed with bladder cancer and was gone about 10 days later.

Around March 9th my granddaughter Serenity's other grandmother, Gail, was diagnosed with 3 small spots of cancer on her brain. They were sure it was operable and she would be fine. Three weeks later they determined the cancer was so aggressive that it already covered both sides of her brain and was inoperable. On April 2nd they gave her two weeks to two months and sent her home. She was gone early the next morning, April 3rd. Serenity's dad, Anthony, is just 29 and he has lost his father and mother in a seven year period.

I just want to scream at the top of my lungs "Cancer be gone" and just know it has disappeared. Too many people, too fast, too much pain and too much suffering. Where will it stop and when will it end! "Ugly weapon of the devil, be gone with you!" Well, okay, maybe it's not the weapon of the devil. I have no idea. I am just madder than hell. And tell me how a person can have Stage IV terminal cancer and no one knew it until it was this far gone? And how is it someone has cancer and it takes 3 weeks to get a biopsy or two months before they start treatment? What's up with all this?

My niece, Jenifer, recently made the observation that it seems like cancer is getting closer and closer. It use to be the third cousin of a friend or a friend's friend who had cancer. Now it seems like everyone is touched within their immediate family. Jen and her family just lost Jenifer's Aunt Patty. Patty fought cancer for 20 years or so.

Selfishly I was thinking this is too much to ask people to endure and then I remembered that this is Easter and I remember what Jesus endured. How dare me protest or think any of us have been slighted. This is also a reminder to me of something I have said all along. I have been blessed to know I have cancer and to have the opportunity to prepare. I have been given time. If I'm not prepared to go when the time comes, I have only myself to blame. The truth is, while I may be spiritually prepared (which is the "prepared" I'm speaking of), I will never be materially or physically prepared. There is no such thing.

Prayers for all those who are gone and for all their loved ones, left to suffer the pain and heartache. I love you all.

The Cost of Not Forgiving?

This week I've been giving a lot of thought to forgiveness again. I wrote about it briefly in a blog in February but it keeps popping into my brain. In March a wrote a blog about going to New Jersey to see my mother and then in September I wrote about my mom coming to visit me. If you read those blogs you might have gotten the idea that my biological mother is just a little difficult. This would be an understatement. She is all about difficult. I think she invented difficult and probably mean and nasty. The reason this is weighing on my mind is because she is very ill. I don't know how any human being could go through life being so miserable and unhappy. How much better her life could have been if she could have learned to just enjoy it and enjoy the people around her. Of course the worse part of being like this is you are bound to take other people "down" with you. I think this is a sad legacy to leave behind. Sad that people will remember her being this type of person. Of course when someone is gone the emotions soften and it becomes easier to remember the "good" times. This is especially true when you don't have to be on guard waiting for more "bad" times.

Don't get me wrong. Her family loves her of course. Her sisters and her children and grandchildren all love her. The fact is we can love someone but not like them very much. It's the things they do that we don't like. There is nothing like a sharp tongue or a nasty glare to cut you through to the core.

I hadn't seen my mother from the time I was 6 until I was 41 or 42. Her family endured her scorn for many years. I never experienced it until last July when she came to visit me. It was not a pretty sight and even though it happened in front of my eyes, I could not believe how this woman turned on me. I suppose now I could look back and say it's because she was so sick and unknowingly seriously ill, but the fact is this was the real Virginia coming out. I had heard the stories. She just had never turned on me before. Well, at least, not since I was a child.

At the advice of my doctor, I hadn't talked to my mother since her visit to Nebraska in July. I'll blame the doctor but I knew it was the best thing for healing. My mom came to visit for two weeks. On the 5th day she told me off, stormed out of my house and refused to return. I can't believe I'm going to tell this but I had to call the police. She spent the night in a motel and the next day I took her back to the airport. She lasted almost six days. The first day was almost pleasant but it went down hill by the next morning. No long explanation needed, but rest assured it was not pretty and was ridiculous and childish.

My mother had an unbelievable childhood. No one should have to endure and live the kind of life she did. She was on her own from the time she was 12 or 13 and she worked hard her whole life. As she got older it might have been better but it was never good. Abusive family to abusive husbands. By the time she was free and independent she was already so bitter and full of pain and guilt there was no turning back for her.

I think guilt is the biggest burden that people carry. We need to forgive ourselves before we can forgive others. Usually the guilt we carry is unfounded but to us it is as real as if we had gone out and killed someone. We blame ourselves for everything. Yes, some things may be our fault but more often then not the blame and guilt we carry is for something we had no control over. This must be especially true of children. How can a child be responsible for what they are born into? I believe in reincarnation and I believe we are brought into our next life according to the way we lived our last life. Now all I hear is that we asked to come into this life. I have a hard time believing anyone would ask to be born into a life of abuse. Of course I use to not understand how a person was suppose to forgive someone who wronged them and especially if the person refused to accept that they had done wrong or refused to ask for forgiveness. I know now that forgiveness is something we must do for ourselves and it is for ourselves not for the other person. Forgiveness is necessary for both our physical and mental well being.

I spoke previously about Louise Hay. Louise Hay says that we do the best job we can with the tools we have been provided. This is a very important thing to remember when it comes to forgiveness. The people who raise us only have the tools the people who raised them gave them. This is part of the pattern that turns victims into victimizers. If we are lucky we break the pattern instead of continuing it on. So my mother did break the abuse pattern as far as the physical aspect goes. What she became I believe was the result of not being able to forgive herself and the bitterness that grew from not being able to forgive her transgressors.

I can't speak for my brothers, but for my part, I had nothing to forgive my mother for. From the time I was six, I believed in my heart that my mother did the best she could and when she could no longer take care of my youngest brother and I, she again did the best thing she could. She gave us to someone else to love and care for us. I have never had any doubt about this. From the time we were reacquainted it was obvious that my mother carried so much guilt and there was no way to convince her that it wasn't necessary. She held on to it like a badge of courage. She would never admit this. The fact is it seeped from every pore in her body. I speak of my youngest brother, Rex and I, but there were two other brothers that are a part of this family. I can't begin to speak for them and what they have lived through. Rex and I were adopted and we learned the meaning of a special kind of love. The not I love you because I have to or because I have no choice but the kind of love that says I love you because I choose to.

Thich Nhat Hanh says "forgiveness is not possible until compassion is born in our hearts".

This of course means we must have compassion for the people who wronged us.

Reverend James Forbes says "the soul wishes peace but anger and revenge won't give it".

Only forgiveness will give us true peace.

Forgiveness allows you to remember but releases the pain in the memory.

The memory is part of what makes us who we are. I can keep the memory but need to let go of the pain. The pain is the thing that destroys our lives.

I actually read somewhere once that often the person you forgive doesn't even know they did anything wrong until you forgive them. Imagine that!

I have always thought I was a fairly good person and never intentionally hurt anyone. The fact is it is possible to cause great hurt and pain with no intention. Since many people believe you must ask for forgiveness in order to be forgiven.....here goes.....

If I have ever hurt or offended anyone in anyway, I ask your forgiveness now.

This must go out especially to my children. They say the ones you love the most are the ones you hurt the most. I know this to be true.

Material Girl - but no Madonna

When I was young I knew I was in no way materialistic. It was a known fact that objects meant little to me. I made the best with what I had and didn't worry about the Jones'. I did value the things I did have, especially the sentimental things. I was very ambitious but not in a material way.

Now I have a dark secret to reveal. I am now a "Material Girl"! As my daughter's friend Jen says, "I love me some fabric". I can't go into the fabric store without some design or color catching my eye. It talks to me, whispering sweet nothings in my ear. It begs me to touch and caress it and take it home with me.

In my twenties I had quite a collection of fabric scraps. This was due to the fact I made so many of Tonya and Chris' clothes. I also did alternations for people and I would keep the scraps from hems and sleeves if they caught my fancy. I saved those scraps from the time I was 19 until I was 27. I had a great desire to make quilts. I had only made one by this time but I had a passion to make more. After I met the man who was to become my second husband (I use the term husband, lightly), we moved from Texas to Nebraska and he insisted that it was silly to keep all those scraps and lug them with us. Years later when I talked about quilting he admitted it was stupid of him to insist I throw all that beautiful fabric away. A lot of good it did me then.

In 2004, when I was first diagnosed with cancer, I was determined to stop working such long hours and began to dream of quilting again. Now a real quilter would laugh because I know nothing about quilting and it would take years to be of the caliber of the women I know who quilt but that's okay. Everyone has to start somewhere. Desire has to count for something. I figured if I could just get started I could, over time, learn all the tricks and techniques a "true" quilter uses. That year I began spending part of my vacation money (I rarely took a vacation but got paid for it) on fabric. Well, okay, I confess, I spent some of it on eBay for pink depression glass (another love). Well, I cut down on my hours, just a little, for a very short time. The other lady in the office got sick again and now I was back to doing my work, the work of a second employee who was never replaced and the work of the sick Office Manager. All the fabric has been sitting and waiting for me. Some of this fabric is what I bought to make the rag quilts for Jessica and Chris. Can you believe I finally got those done? There's still plenty of fabric. Fabric for a quilt for everyone I love. I would like to paint some fabric and embellish with buttons, ribbons and anything else I can find that catches my eye. I have fabric to make a quilt of a farm in the four seasons. I want to make at least one Spirit Flag. In the meantime, I will be happy to complete even some of the ideas I have in my brain. Now those ideas might have grown in design and grandeur over the years or they may turn out to be moldy and impossible to accomplish. Only time will tell. I'll keep you posted.

To prove I know nothing about quilting.....When Tonya was a toddler I made her a quilt that was passed down through each of my kids. Jessica still has it but it is about a rag (it's probably 35 years old and Jessica was still sleeping with it not many years ago). The fabric is frayed and worn and even has holes in it. The last time I saw it every hand stitched seam was still intact. In high school Jessica was taking Home Economics and they were going to make a quilt. She took mom's quilt to school. When her teacher saw it she told her that she had never seen one like it. She had no idea how her mother had designed it but she said "it worked out". Heck I didn't know I was doing anything wrong. I knew what I wanted it to look like and I made it in sections because it was easier to handle that way. I didn't know how to use a quilt rack and of course I didn't have one. I was consoled that "it worked". I like the idea of the early American women who made quilts out of necessity and used old clothing and flour sacks. Now that's my kind of quilting. Stitching together memories that will last from one lifetime to the next. These quilts actually got used and weren't just stored away for safe keeping. Someone used them to stay warm, to feel safe and secure and to feel loved by the person who took the time to stitch them. I know it was out of necessity but I like to think all the rest went along with it.

So goodnight from the Material Girl...Living in a Fabric World!

In case you are wondering, yes, I am aware that I am not a girl.

Have Wheels, Will Travel

I was thinking about the fact that Tonya lent me her car for over a week. Not to sound selfish, but I could never lend someone my only mode of transportation for that long without having a nervous breakdown. Even if I have nowhere to go I have always needed to know that my car was close and available whenever I might need it. I have done quite a bit of thought about this over the years. You see I have always liked to psychoanalyze myself.

So this is my analysis:

#1 It is because I never had a driver's license or a car until I was 27. Hard to believe, right? After all, I wasn't born in the dark ages. Yes, I had a Learner's Permit when I was 15 and I took Driver's Ed in school. My mom let me drive once (yes, just once) in the shopping center parking lot when the store was closed and there were no cars in the parking lot. She saw no reason for me to drive since I wouldn't be driving her car and I would have to wait until I had a job and bought my own car and insurance. I did work but my meager income went for clothes and school. My mom never had a driver's license until she was in her 40's. My dad would have been okay with using his car (only when necessary), but mom had the last say on the kids. At seventeen I left home. I did drive a friend part way back from the Midwest to Maryland once when I was barely 18. She said I made her nervous because I drove too close to the right. Yes, I have heard that since then also. I also turn corners too fast.

#2 When I was in my mid 20's my father-in-law wanted to take me driving because he thought I should have my license. Husband #1 thought that was ridiculous because he was the one with the car and what would I have to drive and why would I need to drive. He felt it worked out well the way I packed my two kids up in the one kid stroller with the laundry and the groceries. What in the world did I need to drive for. I walked the kids to school each morning and walked to work then walked home from work and walked to pick the kids up at daycare. What would a woman need a car for?

#3 Husband #2 was very supportive of me driving. I was petrified and wanted some practice but he wouldn't hear it. I couldn't drive a stick so he got me the driving book to study and had my sister-in-law pick me up and take me to the DMV for the test. I took my first test in a Pacer. I figured that alone would get me flunked. The poor man who tested me said I needed some practice. He could tell I didn't have much experience behind the wheel. Hell, I hadn't been behind the wheel in nine years. I think I did pretty good considering. Can you believe he passed me? Either I caught him on a good day or he was afraid I would come back and it would be his luck to have to ride with me again.

I finally had a driver's license and I had $100.00 dollars. I carried myself, with my new found independence, to the local car lot. You should have seen the salesman's face when I asked if he had anything for $100.00. It was a Kodak moment. I was embarrassed but more determined than ever. He said "lady, I got three cars over there (way out in the corner hidden) and they've been sitting there for years. If you can get one of them started you can have it for $200.00". I went home and for the first time in my life I asked my father for a loan. This was very difficult for me, but I knew I needed a car. He didn't give me a loan but he did give me $100.00. Four days later I was back at that car lot and became the proud owner of a 1960 something Dodge Dart and was light blue. It wasn't the one with fins or the classic 2 door. It must have been 1964 or earlier though because it had the push button transmission. This was 1978 but you would have thought it was a new Mercedes. I was so proud of that car. I would get very upset when people would make their snide remarks. It was almost like a child that I had to protect and defend.

So from that moment on I felt I needed my car to really feel independent. When I was married and we went somewhere, I always liked to take my own car. It was mainly because if it got late or the party got out of hand I wanted to be able to take my kids home. I was not

comfortable with being somewhere and not having my own transportation. I never wanted to have to beg for a ride or have to wait for a drunken husband to listen to reason. Kids are tired and momma's tired (or disgusted or fed up), I'm going home. Good night all.

Blame the Camera

I wanted to add one more Grand Canyon picture. I imagine that Tonya and Jessica have much better photos. I have always said I take terrible pictures but I love taking them. We have quite a collection of photos from when the kids were young that have only half the head. It's a huge family joke. I am truly photographically impaired or challenged or whatever. I wanted to say photogenically challenged but of course neither of these are words but, if they where, both would be true.

Yes, I know. It truly is me, not the camera.

Visit From An Angel (Well according to Grandma)

Saturday Jessica and Serenity came and we spent the first night in the new house. Serenity didn't have much to say but she wanted to know if the "baby" room was still here. The first time she saw the house, the first bedroom was obviously a child's room with a monkey painted on the wall. She said then that this was going to be her room. She really loves monkeys and that's always her main interest when her mom takes her to the zoo. She does really great monkey sounds also. That room is now the office but she was still happy with her room at grandma's.

Sunday morning we went for Dunkin' Donuts by special request from Jessica. Later we went to Fiesta Mall and went window shopping and had lunch in the food court. This is the mall that Tonya use to take Jessica to with her friends when Jessica was little. Jessica was the baby sister that the older sister had to take everywhere with her. I worked till 6:00 each day and on Saturdays and Tonya had Jessica anytime she wasn't in school . It cut down on babysitting costs. Tonya was always good about this and I can only think of one time she complained. She was a good sister and a good daughter.

Tuesday Serenity got to go swimming at the Val Vista Lakes Clubhouse where Tonya lives. She was so excited about going swimming in the winter. Her new friend Jewels went with her. She has actually met Jewels several times before but only remembered her from the pictures we took. Jewels is the daughter of Jessica's friend Kaycie. Jessica and Kaycie have been friends since they were five. Jewels' grandmother (Rosemary is Kaycie's mother) was Jessica's babysitter. Tonya would pick Jessica up from Rosemary's each day after school. We have all been friends ever since. It is nice that Serenity and Jewels can be friends now also.

Wednesday we went shopping and prepared for a small house warming party that was a psychic party. We had a lot of fun listening to everyone else's "readings". Several old friends joined us for a little refreshment and a lot of laughs.

Serenity wanted to see the Grand Canyon. She said she had seen pictures but had never been there. Aunt Tonya took us there on Thursday. Needless to say it was a long trip, but as usual, it was a beautiful experience. There's nothing like the Grand Canyon at sunset.

Friday we spent most of the day at Tonya's. Tonya and Jessica picked up Jewels and she and Serenity spent most of the afternoon playing at Aunt Tonya's and Uncle Steve's. After Jewels went home I fixed lasagna and we had dinner with the Price family. This included Steve, Tonya, Charlotte, Kieran and Quinn. McKenna wasn't available as she had dog sitting duties. We had a wonderful time visiting and Jessica and Serenity said their goodbyes as they were leaving early on Saturday morning. We had to get up at 4:00AM in order to get to the airport in plenty of time for their flight home. I am not a bit ashamed to say that I came home and took a nap.

A picture of Serenity's room at Grandma's house. Can you believe Tonya found this sign that said Serenity. Needless to say, Serenity was very impressed.

New Abode

On Wednesday Steve, Tonya and I started moving stuff into the house. My friend Rosemary's son, Joey helped also. Steve is doing lots of work on the house and Tonya and I are going through her "Shabby Chic" storage. Steve calls it "Chubby Chick". Do you think that has underlying meaning? So we cleared out all the staging furniture that Steve and Tonya had in the garage and I now have a furnished house. By now I am getting very excited. Very little cleaning was needed as everything is brand new or close to it. Tonya and Steve have done wonders with this house. It is fresh and lovely and updated. The yard needs some work but there will be plenty of time for that. I am still surprised at the generosity of strangers (well, strangers to me). Tonya and Steve have friends who donated a stove, microwave and refrigerator. I am so appreciative and the items all are in great shape. Anything I ever had "extra" or stored in the garage was usually on it's last leg. These appliances were "slightly used". I feel very blessed.

Serenity and Jessica will be here on Saturday. We are very excited to see Serenity's reaction when she sees the house. She saw it in June when we were in Arizona, actually we both saw it for the first time together. When she first walked in she said "this place is a dump". Aunt Tonya told her it just needed lots of work and Serenity said "it's going to take a whole lot of work". Serenity is much more demonstrative then her grandma. Grandma is generally hard pressed to show much emotion, good or bad. Tonya says it's a family thing. We learned years ago to not get excited about anything until it actually happened, because there was always the chance that it wouldn't happen. Many times this was a distinct possibility and more often than not it was the end result. Example: the playhouse/clubhouse my kids never got. I think this was something I learned in my childhood and I must have passed it on to my children. What a terrible heritage. I know all this sounds very negative but it is actually just realistic. This way, if it doesn't happen, the let down is much less harsh.

When I spoke to Serenity on the phone, I asked if she remembered the house. "I don't know," she said, "but did you get a new brick put in?" Of all the things for her to remember. You'd think it would be one of the holes, in the wall, or the ceiling, or the middle of the living room floor, but no, it was the brick. There was a brick that had come out by the front door and it was sitting on the ledge of the brick trim. She wanted to know if I got a new brick for it.

This morning we pick Jessica and Serenity up from the airport. I can hardly wait. There's never a dull moment when "Miss Serenity" is around. She keeps grandma on her toes.

Stitching With Love

Finished my second rag quilt today. This one is for Chris. It'll be an early birthday present. I love making these quilts because they are so easy and fast and I love the way they look. The picture doesn't do it justice (lighting you know) . I was worried about the fabric. I really wanted this to be pretty but manly. I had to forgo the flowers that I like so much and of course the lovely colors that I like to use (especially "pink"). It turned out very nice. I was afraid it would be drab but it has it's own beauty. Happy "early" Birthday Chris (Rich). I love you more than you may ever know. Be looking for a blog on your birthday. Don't be scared...I'll be gentle.

Chubby II

Sorry, I absolutely could not resist posting this little update from yesterday's blog. Tonya had this little stuffed dog in storage with all her other "valuables". I remember the little dog but did not remember I gave this to her when her little Chubby died. She remembered and has saved it all these years. We know that all our best efforts can't replace something we have lost but I think this is proof that a "friend" can have an important place in our hearts and help us get through the pain. She has had this since she was five.

Tonya had a little confession after reading my blog. She told me that she use to sneak Chubby into the house and hide under my bed with him and watch the Mickey Mouse Club.

Chubby the Puppy

When Tonya was in elementary school she had to write an essay (if memory serves me right) on who she most admired. One of the most memorable times in my life was when I read her essay (years later) and discovered she had written about her mother. Can you even imagine that. I child who most admires their mother? I was both proud and honored. I will warn you that the story involved her mother breaking the law. Yes, her honest (well most of the time), law abiding, trying to set a good example mother broke the law. Okay, so it was just a little tiny law, probably a misdemeanor not a felony but the law none the less.

We lived in Houston for many years when the kids were little. Houston has (or at least had) a law about pets that die. You can't bury them in your yard. You have to call a certain department of the city and they come and remove the pet from the side of the road where you are instructed to leave it. They don't always make it the same day. It could be several days before your beloved pet is picked up. I use the term picked up very liberally. We had lived in Houston about four years and we moved to a house on a very busy road. In a very short time several pets (and, I guess, one big wheel) met their demise on that road.

My brother worked for a dog kennel that raised speciality hunting dog. When the dogs would get old or sick and be of no use, someone was responsible for putting them out of "their" misery. We inherited more then one dog when my brother had a favorite dog that he could not "put down". One of these dogs was a Brittany Spaniel that was hit on the highway in front of our house. Our neighbor saw what happened and told me I had to call the city because I was not allowed to bury that dog in my yard. I totally would have buried him but I was afraid the neighbor would turn me in. Out of fear, not good citizenship, I called the city and was instructed to put the dog on the curb in front of the house and someone would come and pick him up and he would be properly disposed of. Several days later a city truck pulled up and a man got out of the truck and picked up a pitch fork and walked over, picked up our dog "on a pitch fork" and threw him into the back of the truck. It all seemed so heartless and cruel. I am all about the cycle of life and this is the way it is and accepting what needs to happen but at that moment I couldn't believe how indignant I was. The kids and I watched this through the living room window. If I had any idea what was going to transpire I would not have had allowed them to watch. Don't ask me what I thought. I'm sure I wasn't expecting them to drive up in a hearse and put him into some little doggy casket. I vowed never again. Of course my idea of never again was we wouldn't have anymore dogs and that would solve the problem. Tonya's heart was broken and it wasn't too long before her dad came home with some puppy that he picked up God knows where. I was livid. I absolutely did not want the kids having to deal with losing another pet. I relented, after all, the kids had already seen the new puppy and were ecstatic. This little brown puppy was a little round ball. He could have been one of those little soft Nerf balls. Of course, Tonya named him Chubby. Tonya never let that puppy leave her side. I'm pretty sure she put him in her bed at night and needless to say, that was never allowed. Not good for the puppy, the child or the linens. We had never even had a "house" dog. It was just a matter of time before the little guy got away and it was time for another doggy funeral. Under the cover of night we buried this puppy under the biggest prettiest tree in our backyard. Actually, it was the only tree that wasn't a pecan tree. He had a respectable ceremony and we never owned another dog for many years.

So Tonya most admired me because I broke the law and buried that dog with a proper funeral in our backyard. I guess if I were teaching by example, at least it involved some compassion and not total lawlessness. Aren't I a lucky mom?