There apparantly has been some flap about a woman who wrote on her blog, "I Am Adam Lanza's Mother." I am assuming this woman is someone with a mentally ill son who has had to face issues very similar to those faced by Nancy Lanza in her struggles with Adam which culminated in this past Friday's tragic, terrifying result.
Please try to understand this woman's perspective because, as I was thinking about what I had heard, I realized I could have been Adam Lanza's older sister.
When my brother Mike first started showing the most obvious signs of his mental illness/schizophrenia, there were times when it could be quite frightening, although mostly it was just really, really sad. It got so bad for a time that my parents barricaded their bedroom door at night in the fear that Mike might try to harm our Mom to whom he would make insinuative threats, verbally and via gestures. At one point (and this is not to imply that no buttons were pushed as I was not always the most gracious of older siblings...) Mike picked me up bodily and threw me upon the floor. This was after we were both full grown adults, at least physiologically speaking. Thank God Mike never had the access to guns that Adam Lanza was allowed, as this may have been the only significant difference, at times, that prevented my brother from acting out in a similar way, although I would like to think Mike would never have done anything so vicious even in his worst and most violent moments.
What, we might wonder, was Nancy Lanza thinking and doing by allowing this son of hers access to guns? In Nancy Lanza's world guns were recreational, used primarily for target shooting and, perhaps now and again for hunting. These weapons were not fired at people - or not supposed to be - and this was what she would have taught her son. What was Nancy Lanza doing? She was trying to give her son a life, trying to help him find his way in a world he was ill-suited to navigate on his own, trying desperately to do what those six educators died for last Friday - protect her child as they wanted to protect the children under their care.
That she was reaching the point of being unable to continue caring for Adam is not testimony to any fault in her parenting, but to her humanity; not one of us is perfect and Adam's mental disorder was too involved, too deeply entrenched, for his mother to be able to continue to care for the adult her son had grown into - the violent, angry, raging, jealous child-man he could not escape from except through death - at least in his own mind where he blamed everyone of the people who loved him, everyone of those children, everyone in his life except himself, for the hurt and anger he felt and the pain he was determined to inflict.
That's a lot of speculation on my part. I did not know Adam, his mother, or any of the people murdered so brutally last Friday. But I do know the fear of not knowing if you're going to receive some stridently demanding phone call telling you something unimaginably horrible has taken place, changing your life and that of your entire family forever; the fear of not knowing if your younger brother will survive the night without his coat after he disappeared into one of the worst snowstorms within recent memory; the fear of wondering if the sweet, wonderful brother you grew up with will ever get to reappear when thisterrible mental disease has run its course or if it will run its course. It is living with your heart always breaking or constantly broken. It is a life of constant emotional pain and fear.
Adam Lanza's mom loved him. He was her child; her little boy. She knew him when he was six-years old and as sweet and beautiful as each one of those little ones whose lives he so callously took six days ago.
Dear God,
Our hearts are so broken. We are so much in need. Please, God, help us; love us; be our protecting and loving parent and hold us in your arms now and in the days to come as more children are laid to rest, more questions surface, more emotions make the way into our hearts and minds. Please God, be especially kind to those families of the children who died, they each lost more than just a loved one - they lost each of their childrens' entire lifetimes as well.
Amen
Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Monday, December 17, 2012
In Hopes of Bringing a Comforting Thought
Twenty-Six Angels
Twenty-six angels,
All newly fledged,
Wander ‘round Heaven,
Clearing their heads.
Six of them older,
Having gotten to grow,
To live; to learn -
And each in their turn -
To teach; to lead,
As they take the hands
Of several
Small angels from
The rest of their band,
Fielding the questions,
Calming the fears,
Teaching; encouraging -
Learned earthly experience
Measured in years.
“Do we still need to hide?”
A little one asks,
“No, Dear,” says Dawn,
Still keen to the task
Of protecting and caring
And leading them on
Because, after all,
She is now their New Dawn.
Each newly minted;
Testing their wings is
Like learning to walk
All over again.
They do it
Because they know,
Somewhere inside,
That Mommy and Daddy
Would be really proud.
Twenty-six angels,
All newly born
Yet somehow conscious of
Lives lived before.
Old fears quickly fading;
Love re-blooming fast
In hearts God created
To last
For eternity,
Yet still bereft of the
Arms of the parents
And loved ones they left.
They know, and will always,
How treasured they were,
God needed them more;
Though they are still ours.
(Apologies for the sloppy poetry - it was written fast and loose but with the hopes that some small parts of it might help people through this initial time of grief and shock. Perhaps, in time, I will be able to do an acceptable rewrite.)
With Much Love,
Izzlebug (the very out of practice poet)
Sunday, December 16, 2012
"May God In His Heaven Give His Angels Charge Over Thee"
"The Rose" - as sung (and written?) by Bette Midler
"Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger,
An endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
And you its only seed.
It's the heart afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance.
It's the dream afraid of waking
That never takes the chance.
It's the one who won't be taken,
Who cannot seem to give,
And the soul afraid of dyin'
That never learns to live.
When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long,
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong,
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snows
Lies the seed that with the sun's love
In the spring becomes the rose."
*This song was sung at my sister's wedding and also brought my family great comfort when she passed away from leukemia a few years ago. I hope and pray it may do the same for some of the people who lost loved ones in the needless, senseless, horrific events of this past Friday in Sandy Hook CT. The last four lines have always touched me more than any of the others.
CHILDREN
Charlotte Bacon, born 2/22/06, female (age 6) - died 12/14/12
Daniel Barden, born 9/25/05, male (age 7) - died 12/14/12
Olivia Engel, born 7/18/06, female (age 6) - died 12/14/12
Josephine Gay, born 12/11/05, female (age 7) - died 12/14/12
Ana M. Marquez-Greene, born 04/04/06, female (age 6) - died 12/14/12
Dylan Hockley, born 03/08/06, male (age 6) - died 12/14/12
Madeleine F. Hsu, born 07/10/06, female (age 6) - died 12/14/12
Catherine V. Hubbard, born 06/08/06, female (age 6) - died 12/14/12
Chase Kowalski, born 10/31/05, male (age 7) - died 12/14/12
Jesse Lewis, born 06/30/06, male (age 6) - died 12/14/12
James Mattioli, born 03/22/06, male (age 6) - died 12/14/12
Grace McDonnell, born 11/04/05, female (age 7) - died 12/14/12
Emilie Parker, born 05/12/06, female (age 6) - died 12/14/12
Jack Pinto, born 05/06/06, male (age 6) - died 12/14/12
Noah Pozner, born 11/20/06, male (age 6) - died 12/14/12
Caroline Previdi, born 09/07/06, female (age 6) - died 12/14/12
Jessica Rekos, born 05/10/06, female (age 6) - died 12/14/12
Avielle Richman, born 10/17/06, female (age 6) - died 12/14/12
Benjamin Wheeler, born 9/12/06, male (age 6) - died 12/14/12
Allison N. Wyatt, born 07/03/06, female (age 6) - died 12/14/12
ADULTS
Rachel Davino, born 7/17/83, female (age 29) - died 12/14/12
Dawn Hochsprung, born 06/28/65, female (age 47) - died 12/14/12
Anne Marie Murphy, born 07/25/60, female (age 52) - died 12/14/12
Lauren Russeau, born 1982, female (age 29) - died 12/14/12
Mary Sherlach, born 02/11/56, female (age 56) - died 12/14/12
Victoria Soto, born 11/04/85, female (age 27) - died 12/14/12
Donations for the families and the school can be made at the following places:
Newtown Youth and Family Services
(203)426-8103
15 Berkshire Rd.
Sandy Hook, CT 06482
They (Newtown Y&FS) would prefer donations to be made via the United Way site set up in conjunction with the Newtown Savings Bank or through the Caroline's Gift fund, only because the money will get to the families more rapidly because these funds are already in place; up and running. However, any and all donations made for the families of victims of the school shootings sent directly to the office of Youth and Family Services will eventually find its way to the families.
Caroline's Gift
This fund is administered through the Newtown Youth and Family Services office. Further information is available on their website at: http://newtownyouthandfamilyservices.org
United Way of Western Connecticut:
mail donations to: Sandy Hook School Support Fund
c/o Newtown Savings Bank
39 Main Street
Newtown, CT 06470
You can also donate by credit card online at: http://newtown/uwwesternct.org
Newtown Parent Connection
1-203-270-1600
http://www.newtownparentconnection.org
This group says all donations will go directly to the families of shooting victims and others directly affected by the shootings. They can accept donations via Paypal or any major credit card on their website. Call the number listed above for further information.
For those wishing to donate their time and talent rather than, or in addition to, money, the Connecticut Department of Emergency Services and Public Protection can be reached at 1-800-203-1234.
Be aware that this number is also the direct line for people seeking help as well as those attempting to volunteer. You will want to choose option #3 in order to speak directly to someone who can get you on the volunteer list. This list of names and qualifications will be forwarded to another department involved in recovery efforts for those affected by the shootings and people will be contacted on an "as needed" basis.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
How Can Cowards Be So Vicious? I Thought They Were Cowards?
Yet another vicious and cowardly act has taken our nation's attention and the lives of many innocent and unarmed people, only this time the people were mostly children who were unable to know even how or when to run without an older someone telling them to do so.
The perpetrator of these heinous and brutal acts; a mentally ill, mixed up young man barely more than a child himself. There is a sad and frightening pattern here and I hope parents of similar young men will take note and keep a sharper eye on the behavior of their sons, as well as the whereabouts of any registered weapons, as a result.
Along with the rest of the world, my heart is breaking for the parents and families of the children and those who died to save them. Even China, in the midst of all of the political strife that seems ever present nowadays, called to offer sympathy. It took me a brief moment to recall that China has been through similar losses not that long ago, with some of their own very young children slaughtered by similar cowards while, presumably, "safe" at school. The memory must have seared through many hearts and minds to prompt that call, but the parents and families of Newtown, CT may know, absolutely, that an entire continent in addition to this one, knows and understands their pain and is currently united with all of us on a level none of us could have ever foreseen or would ever have wished to exist. But, today, we are one in our shock, pain and grief.
Through the days that follow parents and loved ones will have to sort out their lives, dealing with the Christmas gifts that must now be donated or returned, the appointments that can no longer be kept, the schedules no longer necessary. They will have to start filling in the holes in their lives as bitterly and relentlessly as the earth fills the graves of their lost loved ones, because life goes on; it is inexorable in its march and rhythms and we follow, willingly or not. This is not a bad thing. The time this process spans heals the pain, softens the memories, brings the good and gentle thoughts to the forefront, although that emptiness can never truly be filled; ever.
To the little ones of Newtown and their brave protectors who did not make it beyond the beast that was that young man's mind and heart, "God's Speed, Little Ones'" for we are all children of a living God who loves and grieves with us at mankind's weaknesses and failures.
This reminds me of an article I read recently about a little 8-year-old boy who died of cancer. His Dad reported feeling sad while at work one night thinking that his son would likely never grow up to be married, have children of his own, and so on, but had never said anything about this to his little boy, for obvious reasons. When this Dad got home in the morning and was getting his son up for school, his little boy looked right at him and said, "Daddy, I'm never going to be married." This startled the father and he wondered how his son could possibly know what he had been thinking while at work and the Dad said, "What makes you say that, Little Buddy?" His son looked at him and said simply, "Because God needs me more. I was your angel before I was born."
Truly, may the peace that passes all understanding belong to all of us this holiday season.
Love,
Izzlebug
The perpetrator of these heinous and brutal acts; a mentally ill, mixed up young man barely more than a child himself. There is a sad and frightening pattern here and I hope parents of similar young men will take note and keep a sharper eye on the behavior of their sons, as well as the whereabouts of any registered weapons, as a result.
Along with the rest of the world, my heart is breaking for the parents and families of the children and those who died to save them. Even China, in the midst of all of the political strife that seems ever present nowadays, called to offer sympathy. It took me a brief moment to recall that China has been through similar losses not that long ago, with some of their own very young children slaughtered by similar cowards while, presumably, "safe" at school. The memory must have seared through many hearts and minds to prompt that call, but the parents and families of Newtown, CT may know, absolutely, that an entire continent in addition to this one, knows and understands their pain and is currently united with all of us on a level none of us could have ever foreseen or would ever have wished to exist. But, today, we are one in our shock, pain and grief.
Through the days that follow parents and loved ones will have to sort out their lives, dealing with the Christmas gifts that must now be donated or returned, the appointments that can no longer be kept, the schedules no longer necessary. They will have to start filling in the holes in their lives as bitterly and relentlessly as the earth fills the graves of their lost loved ones, because life goes on; it is inexorable in its march and rhythms and we follow, willingly or not. This is not a bad thing. The time this process spans heals the pain, softens the memories, brings the good and gentle thoughts to the forefront, although that emptiness can never truly be filled; ever.
To the little ones of Newtown and their brave protectors who did not make it beyond the beast that was that young man's mind and heart, "God's Speed, Little Ones'" for we are all children of a living God who loves and grieves with us at mankind's weaknesses and failures.
This reminds me of an article I read recently about a little 8-year-old boy who died of cancer. His Dad reported feeling sad while at work one night thinking that his son would likely never grow up to be married, have children of his own, and so on, but had never said anything about this to his little boy, for obvious reasons. When this Dad got home in the morning and was getting his son up for school, his little boy looked right at him and said, "Daddy, I'm never going to be married." This startled the father and he wondered how his son could possibly know what he had been thinking while at work and the Dad said, "What makes you say that, Little Buddy?" His son looked at him and said simply, "Because God needs me more. I was your angel before I was born."
Truly, may the peace that passes all understanding belong to all of us this holiday season.
Love,
Izzlebug
Monday, October 22, 2012
A Tribute For Samantha
Saturday evening, on the way to the vet's, our very elderly (21-22 years old, give or take) kitty Samantha passed away in the car while I was driving. We had been hoping there was some way we could make her more comfortable; keep her with us a while longer, but Samantha took the decision out of our hands.
Sammy was a very sweet cat, albeit with an unfortunate tendancy to bite if she felt threatened at all. She did not feel threatened by either of us, however, and had very much become one of our "baby cats." Despite her advanced age, her "long run," we miss her sorely. Her funny squeaky mew, her sweet looks when we brought her a special treat, her "urr-r-r-r!" of greeting when we would stop to pet her during the course of the day; she was so much a part of our daily lives, and now the house feels very empty without her furry presence and unique animality mingling with our minutes, hours, and days.
Many tears have been shed in her honor with many more to come. Wednesday my significant other will try to get to the vet to pick up Samantha's ashes and bring her home where she will wait, with others of our family of felines we have had to also part from, until we will all once again be reunited in kind, in death, in one final resting place together.
I am sure it sounds at least mildly ridiculous to those who have had children of their own, but our cats have been my children, never having been able to produce any of the human variety and now being bereft by surgery and nature of any possibility of ever doing so. I have loved them dearly, and always will. They have been the source of incredible amounts of love, friendship, affection, joy, frustration and aggravation - dry food urp on your bed is just NOT fun - hilarity, and as it is now, grief. It does not matter that I know the brokenness I feel right now will come again and again because my babies do not live as long as I would wish them able to, I must, and will, continue to love and care. Just as they have loved the love I have had to give to them, they have given so immeassurably to me, I have loved being loved by them as well.
Rest peacefully, my Samantha cat. Know, absolutely, you are loved and missed by "Mommy-cat." Know also that I look forward to the day I get to be with you again in an entirety not possible yet, but described so wonderfully by C.S. Lewis in his book "The Great Divorce." When my (hopefully VERY long) time here on earth is done, I will see you in Heaven, my sweet, sweet friend. All of us will be together forever, never to be parted for any reason or in any way after that last meeting. Go with God, dear Sammy. You could not be in better hands than His. I love you.
Sammy was a very sweet cat, albeit with an unfortunate tendancy to bite if she felt threatened at all. She did not feel threatened by either of us, however, and had very much become one of our "baby cats." Despite her advanced age, her "long run," we miss her sorely. Her funny squeaky mew, her sweet looks when we brought her a special treat, her "urr-r-r-r!" of greeting when we would stop to pet her during the course of the day; she was so much a part of our daily lives, and now the house feels very empty without her furry presence and unique animality mingling with our minutes, hours, and days.
Many tears have been shed in her honor with many more to come. Wednesday my significant other will try to get to the vet to pick up Samantha's ashes and bring her home where she will wait, with others of our family of felines we have had to also part from, until we will all once again be reunited in kind, in death, in one final resting place together.
I am sure it sounds at least mildly ridiculous to those who have had children of their own, but our cats have been my children, never having been able to produce any of the human variety and now being bereft by surgery and nature of any possibility of ever doing so. I have loved them dearly, and always will. They have been the source of incredible amounts of love, friendship, affection, joy, frustration and aggravation - dry food urp on your bed is just NOT fun - hilarity, and as it is now, grief. It does not matter that I know the brokenness I feel right now will come again and again because my babies do not live as long as I would wish them able to, I must, and will, continue to love and care. Just as they have loved the love I have had to give to them, they have given so immeassurably to me, I have loved being loved by them as well.
Rest peacefully, my Samantha cat. Know, absolutely, you are loved and missed by "Mommy-cat." Know also that I look forward to the day I get to be with you again in an entirety not possible yet, but described so wonderfully by C.S. Lewis in his book "The Great Divorce." When my (hopefully VERY long) time here on earth is done, I will see you in Heaven, my sweet, sweet friend. All of us will be together forever, never to be parted for any reason or in any way after that last meeting. Go with God, dear Sammy. You could not be in better hands than His. I love you.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Oh, Brother!
Today, my younger brother Mike would have been 53 years old had he not died in May of 2011. I was not able to sleep at all last night and I am weepy this morning. Sort of "par for the course" in my world, but it has me thinking back and wondering what has happened to my family.
It always seemed to me, at least in retrospect, that we were really quite fortunate in many ways. Our family didn't have to face any major illnesses or tragedies that seemed too heartbreaking as we grew up. Things didn't start to go haywire for us until we were adults. Then, starting in 2001 with the death of our Mom, everything fell apart.
Our trials and tragedies are at least mentioned, if not detailed, in the rest of this blog, so I will suffice with only these few highlights; after Mom died in 2001, then Patty in 2007, then Mike in 2011, half of our immediate family was gone - in just 10 years. I really miss them.
So, Happy Birthday, Mike! I miss you and wish you could have been well enough to stay but at least you are no longer in a world of pain.
I have loved you all so much! I always will.
It always seemed to me, at least in retrospect, that we were really quite fortunate in many ways. Our family didn't have to face any major illnesses or tragedies that seemed too heartbreaking as we grew up. Things didn't start to go haywire for us until we were adults. Then, starting in 2001 with the death of our Mom, everything fell apart.
Our trials and tragedies are at least mentioned, if not detailed, in the rest of this blog, so I will suffice with only these few highlights; after Mom died in 2001, then Patty in 2007, then Mike in 2011, half of our immediate family was gone - in just 10 years. I really miss them.
So, Happy Birthday, Mike! I miss you and wish you could have been well enough to stay but at least you are no longer in a world of pain.
I have loved you all so much! I always will.
Monday, August 06, 2012
Dear God,
Today, God, I ask for strength for my neighbor and her family. She is so young and going through so much right now. Please, Father of all, help her, her husband and their children as she continues with the chemotherapy that will hopefully rid her body of all cancer cells, though chemo always helps at a cost.
Please God, give her older kids the understanding, strength and patience to help their Mom and Dad, to be as responsible for themselves and each other as possible, to help around the house, but most of all, to continue to be unafraid to need their Mom and to love her always.
Please give her husband the strength to always fight for her, to always stand by her, and to defend her from anyone who may not treat her as well as they should in these circumstances. Please give them all a good dose of the "How dare they!" attitude when it comes to rude or insensitive doctors and other medical staff, social workers, and so forth. I think they will need it to get through the second half of her treatments.
God, I also ask that you would help me to continue to be a good neighbor - as I hope I have been - and help me see where I can be of use and comfort to this struggling family. I hope I can be a source of strength and encouragement for them all and I also hope my new friend will be cancer free forever after the end of the chemotherapy treatments.
Amen
Please God, give her older kids the understanding, strength and patience to help their Mom and Dad, to be as responsible for themselves and each other as possible, to help around the house, but most of all, to continue to be unafraid to need their Mom and to love her always.
Please give her husband the strength to always fight for her, to always stand by her, and to defend her from anyone who may not treat her as well as they should in these circumstances. Please give them all a good dose of the "How dare they!" attitude when it comes to rude or insensitive doctors and other medical staff, social workers, and so forth. I think they will need it to get through the second half of her treatments.
God, I also ask that you would help me to continue to be a good neighbor - as I hope I have been - and help me see where I can be of use and comfort to this struggling family. I hope I can be a source of strength and encouragement for them all and I also hope my new friend will be cancer free forever after the end of the chemotherapy treatments.
Amen
Monday, July 23, 2012
Aurora, Colorado's Heartbroken Quest for Answers
After all of the coverage of the tragic and horrendous events in Aurora this past week, or so, I don't know if my small offering will prove to be comforting or not, but I offer it anyway.
One of the questions that always comes up during these times is, "How can God allow [these things] to happen?" My answer is that He does not.
When man chose knowledge over innocence, having been created with a free will and the ability to make such a choice, God (though very put out) agreed and gave him the rules he needed to live by in order to survive spiritually. I think at that point God - Who is very much with us and present on a continuous basis - took a "hands off" sort of approach, so to speak, and though very much aware of what happens, because of the choices we have made and continue to make, He will not interfere, for the most part, in the actions and choices of man. (Sorry to all of the feminists out there, its just easier to type this out quickly by using older conventions!)
I imagine God's feelings (or whatever might "equate") to be something like mine whenever I have to let go of wanting desperately to protect either my nephew or niece or a close friend in some situation that seems to me inherantly, unnecessarily hazardous. I have to constantly remind myself that the choices are theirs to make, not mine. They are mature people capable of making those choices. I will be here if they need me. This does not mean I suddenly become unconcerned or do not take any interest in whatever is going on. Sometimes I end up shedding many tears wishing I could have spared them some of the pains and heartaches of life, but they are the ones making the choices - NOT ME.
God DOES NOT make our choices for us. He IS aware and He CARES GREATLY! But, WE are the ones making those choices. That such things happen rest on the shoulders of humanity. What that young man CHOSE to do he did without the consent of God, but it was that young man's choice - DAMN him, although God may choose forgiveness even in so extreme a case. (It is probably a good thing I am not God.)
We weep for the victims of this young man's vicious actions and sickness of spirit and soul. We need to actively realize that God is weeping with and for us, as well.
He is my comfort and my hope. Of whom shall I be afraid?
Peace and Blessings, Gentleness and Healing and Love to you all,
Izzlebug
One of the questions that always comes up during these times is, "How can God allow [these things] to happen?" My answer is that He does not.
When man chose knowledge over innocence, having been created with a free will and the ability to make such a choice, God (though very put out) agreed and gave him the rules he needed to live by in order to survive spiritually. I think at that point God - Who is very much with us and present on a continuous basis - took a "hands off" sort of approach, so to speak, and though very much aware of what happens, because of the choices we have made and continue to make, He will not interfere, for the most part, in the actions and choices of man. (Sorry to all of the feminists out there, its just easier to type this out quickly by using older conventions!)
I imagine God's feelings (or whatever might "equate") to be something like mine whenever I have to let go of wanting desperately to protect either my nephew or niece or a close friend in some situation that seems to me inherantly, unnecessarily hazardous. I have to constantly remind myself that the choices are theirs to make, not mine. They are mature people capable of making those choices. I will be here if they need me. This does not mean I suddenly become unconcerned or do not take any interest in whatever is going on. Sometimes I end up shedding many tears wishing I could have spared them some of the pains and heartaches of life, but they are the ones making the choices - NOT ME.
God DOES NOT make our choices for us. He IS aware and He CARES GREATLY! But, WE are the ones making those choices. That such things happen rest on the shoulders of humanity. What that young man CHOSE to do he did without the consent of God, but it was that young man's choice - DAMN him, although God may choose forgiveness even in so extreme a case. (It is probably a good thing I am not God.)
We weep for the victims of this young man's vicious actions and sickness of spirit and soul. We need to actively realize that God is weeping with and for us, as well.
He is my comfort and my hope. Of whom shall I be afraid?
Peace and Blessings, Gentleness and Healing and Love to you all,
Izzlebug
Wednesday, July 04, 2012
Sinking Feelings
Dear God,
Tonight this ocean called "Life" seems too big, too vast, and our home, us, our family, - our "lifeboat," as it were - too small, too fragile, to weather the present storm. Please God help us; we are too frail to keep our boat from sinking beneath the pounding waves. Each surge brings new terrors and we do not know where to turn. We stumble from port to starboard, stem to stern, trying to keep the tattered sails in place and the rudder on a true course, but our hull is leaking and we are afraid of what the light of a new day will reveal. We are also older now. Swimming lessons were a long time ago and if our boat goes under we may not be able to tread water very long. Please keep this in mind?
Amen
Tonight this ocean called "Life" seems too big, too vast, and our home, us, our family, - our "lifeboat," as it were - too small, too fragile, to weather the present storm. Please God help us; we are too frail to keep our boat from sinking beneath the pounding waves. Each surge brings new terrors and we do not know where to turn. We stumble from port to starboard, stem to stern, trying to keep the tattered sails in place and the rudder on a true course, but our hull is leaking and we are afraid of what the light of a new day will reveal. We are also older now. Swimming lessons were a long time ago and if our boat goes under we may not be able to tread water very long. Please keep this in mind?
Amen
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
To Mike
Tomorrow will be one year
To the day
We had to say a final "Good-bye"
After so many years, so hard to do
But, somehow,
We got through.
You are still thought of,
Remembered for so many things;
Your sense of humor
And your laugh.
The arguments you were always
Determined to win.
You were, and are, forever
My brother.
No joke,
No arguing,
That's it and I love you - In my forever I always will, Mike.
To the day
We had to say a final "Good-bye"
After so many years, so hard to do
But, somehow,
We got through.
You are still thought of,
Remembered for so many things;
Your sense of humor
And your laugh.
The arguments you were always
Determined to win.
You were, and are, forever
My brother.
No joke,
No arguing,
That's it and I love you - In my forever I always will, Mike.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Made It Through the Holidays!
From this end it seems but a very short time since I last posted on my blog. The good part of that is we made it through with no major illnesses or other tragedies to contend with so the holidays went well and were as pleasant as we could manage to make them. A relief considering our track record of late.
We had a lovely Thanksgiving meal with one of my sweetie-pie's niece's and her family and other relatives, then on to a rather quieter Christmas with a smaller celebration at the Chinese restaurant than ever before without Mike, who really did seem to enjoy the celebrations there on Christmas Days of the past. Although a lot lonelier, it was still a nice Christmas - just very quiet - and we wrapped up the day by going to bed early and then snoozing late the day after.
We stayed home for the New Year in part, I think, due to remembering our last New Year here at home and all that followed (2010). But this year has started slowly and more calmly than that and we both seem healthier...I will hold that thought as I take it one day, one step, at a time into 2012!
There is still so much to do to get the house into shape and our efforts, although continuing in a positive direction, are slow and not yielding much in the way of space and satisfaction for the moment. We plod on.
The birds show up each morning expecting their viands al fresco on our back deck and the two cats seem to enjoy watching them now and again, although they mostly like snoozing in warm spots around the house even more than bird-watching. Fluff is a funny thing and sometimes wanders around the house meowing loudly. It reminds me a little of the wolves at the zoo howling. Sort of an eerie sound; other-worldly and beckoning. I always think of Patty when Fluff does her singing and try to get her to come over for pets and loves, just in case that is what she is missing. Samantha is a sweetie who seems to live for her naps and her munches. She really loves to eat and then goes right back to sleep, snoring softly and squeakily in her corner by my chair. They are wonderful pussycats! I just wish aging was slightly less cruel in its predations on all of us, though.
As for me, on a more personal level, I have been experiencing what I refer to as "luxury" depression. This is the depression I feel over the more ordinary trials of life rather than the incredibly intense traumas our family has been coping with for the past 15, or so, years. I understand why the illnesses or deaths of my loved ones makes me cry, but WHY do I have to feel weepy about the damned Social Security Administration, too???!
I guess my tolerance for poopoo has lessened considerably over the years. I also have more than enough fertilizer for my life's garden and really don't want anymore, so a newly delivered load does tend to frustrate me to tears when it arrives unexpectedly :-(
Here's to hoping your lives are less frustrating, but more challanging, less tragic, but emotionally brighter, than they have been for awhile - as I would like ours to be, as well.
God bless and keep you all.
Izzlebug
We had a lovely Thanksgiving meal with one of my sweetie-pie's niece's and her family and other relatives, then on to a rather quieter Christmas with a smaller celebration at the Chinese restaurant than ever before without Mike, who really did seem to enjoy the celebrations there on Christmas Days of the past. Although a lot lonelier, it was still a nice Christmas - just very quiet - and we wrapped up the day by going to bed early and then snoozing late the day after.
We stayed home for the New Year in part, I think, due to remembering our last New Year here at home and all that followed (2010). But this year has started slowly and more calmly than that and we both seem healthier...I will hold that thought as I take it one day, one step, at a time into 2012!
There is still so much to do to get the house into shape and our efforts, although continuing in a positive direction, are slow and not yielding much in the way of space and satisfaction for the moment. We plod on.
The birds show up each morning expecting their viands al fresco on our back deck and the two cats seem to enjoy watching them now and again, although they mostly like snoozing in warm spots around the house even more than bird-watching. Fluff is a funny thing and sometimes wanders around the house meowing loudly. It reminds me a little of the wolves at the zoo howling. Sort of an eerie sound; other-worldly and beckoning. I always think of Patty when Fluff does her singing and try to get her to come over for pets and loves, just in case that is what she is missing. Samantha is a sweetie who seems to live for her naps and her munches. She really loves to eat and then goes right back to sleep, snoring softly and squeakily in her corner by my chair. They are wonderful pussycats! I just wish aging was slightly less cruel in its predations on all of us, though.
As for me, on a more personal level, I have been experiencing what I refer to as "luxury" depression. This is the depression I feel over the more ordinary trials of life rather than the incredibly intense traumas our family has been coping with for the past 15, or so, years. I understand why the illnesses or deaths of my loved ones makes me cry, but WHY do I have to feel weepy about the damned Social Security Administration, too???!
I guess my tolerance for poopoo has lessened considerably over the years. I also have more than enough fertilizer for my life's garden and really don't want anymore, so a newly delivered load does tend to frustrate me to tears when it arrives unexpectedly :-(
Here's to hoping your lives are less frustrating, but more challanging, less tragic, but emotionally brighter, than they have been for awhile - as I would like ours to be, as well.
God bless and keep you all.
Izzlebug
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