Divided we fall

I remember, as a child, seeing several major events play out on TV.

I remember watching east and west Germans chip away at the Berlin Wall, eventually removing whole slabs at a time. I remember a man wearing blue jeans and a windbreaker jacket, the kind that everyone owned in the '80s, swinging one leg over the wall and then the other while thousands of people cheered. 

I remember when they pulled baby Jessica out of the well, bandaged up and wide-eyed.

I remember watching Ronald Regan on TV. I knew him only as a president. It was not until many years later that I learned that he had also been an actor. 

I remember the 1989 San Francisco earthquake. The one that happened during the World Series and was hence broadcast on live TV from Candlestick Park. (Mike's uncle was at that game). I remember seeing the images of the freeway that had collapsed onto the other. It literally looked like a sandwich.

I remember hearing about HIV and AIDS for the first time, and that poor kid who contracted it when he got a blood transfusion.

I remember bits and pieces of the fall of the Soviet Union, though I had no idea what it meant at the time. 

I remember the Oklahoma City bombing. I walked in to my 8th grade art class and it was on the TV, the entire side of the building just gone. 

I remember WACO, the FBI and various other law enforcement teams staged outside the compound.
I remember when the smoke first started rising from the building, then becoming fully engulfed minutes later. 

I remember the Unabomber guy, Ted Kczynsky. The cabin he had been living in in the Montana wilderness was loaded onto a trailer and transported to wherever the trial was being held for evidence. It passed through Pocatello on its way there.

I remember Ruby Ridge unfolding.  That was when I learned that northern Idaho was known for white supremacist nuts.

I remember when the space shuttle Columbia exploded upon re-entry in 2003, when the Gulf War was declared, when there were riots in Los Angeles. I remember watching Rodney King on TV, then OJ Simpson years later. 

I remember the Lewinsky scandal, then the Y2K hype.

I remember the shooting at Columbine High School and listening to the media and so-called experts try to figure out why the Eric and Dylan did what they did.

Also the deadly Great White nightclub fire, the capture of Saddam Hussein, Hurricanes Andrew and Katrina, both of the Bush presidential campaigns, Bill Clinton's campaign, Obama's campaign, Al Gore trying to bring attention to global warming.

And of course, 9/11. Everyone remembers that day more than most others. Who they were with, where they were standing and of course that sinking, sick feeling that still manifests on each anniversary.

This week's events have made me think about a lot of things. I've thought about how scared my mom and dad must have been during the recession in the 80s, the seemingly constant war in the Middle East, the way that, despite everything we've learned, everything we've been through we aren't really better off. 

There have only been three times that I was afraid, genuinely worried and scared to the point that I can actually feel it in my body: April 20, 1999, September 11, 2001 and November 9, 2016.

I'm trying to be optimistic.

I believe in the freedom of assembly, free speech, the right to bear arms . . .
but I also believe in liberty and justice for all.

It's horrible to think that the person we've choose to lead us has assaulted women, thinks Mexicans are rapists and Muslims are terrorists.

I am not a raging feminist or anything, but it makes me sick to think that the guy making decisions regarding women's rights has said that flat-chested women can't be "tens," that he can do anything he wants to them because he's famous, and that they don't need to be respected. How does someone say things like that and then get elected president?

And then ban an entire religion? Muslims are not all terrorists any more than all Christians are members of the Westboro Baptist Church.

Mexicans are rapists and murderers? So are many caucasian American-born citizens, should we kick them out too?

We've spent years, decades working toward equality.  All men are created equal. . . . all of that is now being threatened by someone who thinks he can buy people.

Calls to suicide and LGBT hotlines have more than doubled in volume since Tuesday. Many people now have the idea that discriminating against people because of the color of their skin, religion or sexual preference is OK. He's endorsed by the KKK for hell's sakes. But that's Ok, right?

A friend of mine married a Hispanic man and they have three awesome kids. Their nine-year-old was told by classmates that he better go start building the wall and then climb over it. These are elementary school aged kids. My gay and lesbian friends are scared and confused. No one is born with hate, it's taught, and now it's being taught on one of the biggest stages in the world — American politics.

We tell our daughters that they are beautiful no matter what, that the size of your waist and chest don't matter, and yet we'll soon be governed by someone who basically thinks women are sexual objects. I can't be OK with that.

I think what terrifies me the most is that we've gotten to the point where many people feel that this is our best option. What have we become as a society that we're willing to not only accept this but endorse it?  How is it that we have gotten so out of control that we feel we need something this radical? JFK is rolling in his grave.

People are desperate for change, and I get that. Believe me I am all for some drastic changes in the way our government handles things. But it seems like a giant rift has opened, and instead of trying to fix it or figure out what caused it to open in the first place people are picking sides and are not willing to build a bridge until the other side admits they're wrong.

"Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country." We're supposed to be making things better for EVERYBODY, we are supposed to be UNITED.  We have not been this divided since the Civil War.

United we stand. Divided we fall.

This is still a democracy, and I'll take that over a dictatorship any day. The fact that we had an election is proof that we are free, and I don't take that for granted. I don't care who you voted for, I have friends and family on both sides of this divide. I'm just a bit freaked out.

But like I said, I am being optimistic. Maybe optimism is for fools, I don't know, but some times you have to be or you'll go nuts. The sun will come out tomorrow!

There's a few things I like to conclude with: Don't rely on someone else to prompt you to be a good person. Don't hate some one just because they voted the way they did, hating a person based on who he or she voted for makes you no better than people who hate others because they are gay or straight. You don't have to agree with someone to respect them. Many people think this really sucks, and I have to admit I am one of them, but all we can do now is move forward, change what we can, accept what we can't change, and be wise enough to know the difference.

You cannot change who is president. You can donate to your local food bank. You can't change whether or not we go to war — again. You can start a coat drive at your place of work. Take this frustration and anger you're feeling right now and apply it to something positive. 

Reality isn't always real

There exists in this world things too beautiful, too real to be true. And yet there they are — in the sky, reflected in a mountain lake. . . Don't let yourself believe that something does not exist because you've never seen it or it cannot be seen. There is a magic just below the surface, just beyond our understanding. You feel it when you love, when you reach the top of a mountain and look out on the valley to realize how small and yet powerful you really are. It comes to you in dreams and in times of deep grief. It's a peace like no other. It cannot be forced, but can be found — a reward for patience, for learning the beauty and value of silence.   Seek the real, but don't get caught up in what they they claim to be "reality."  Your idea of reality, after all, is mostly what you've be told. Life is too short to keep your mind in a box. 

Nothing in particular

Everyone says his or her life is boring, myself included. I go to work, I go home, I go to work, I go home. But really, the more I pay attention to the people, places and things around me and even my own thoughts the less boring I become. 

For example, several nights ago my dream included a nun and a wet chicken. I was the chicken. There's no explanation for that in my dream dictionary, so I will just have to accept that I won't know the meaning behind that nocturnal adventure. 

What else? I screwed pretty royally at work today. I accidentally billed a client twice. Most sane people would say that's not a big deal, the charge can be credited, but we all know that there are a fair share of extremely crazy people. So, of all the people I could have accidentally billed, in a Murphy's Law sort of way I happened to pick the craziest one. Super. The customer is not always right, sometimes the customer is bat-shit crazy. 

So rather than go home, sit on my couch and eat leftovers for lunch I went for a walk. People really should take walks more often. Not only is it exercise, but it's very meditative, thoughts can wander without getting boxed in by annoying things like other people and work. 

I happened upon some vines with leaves far more red than anything I've ever seen on fall foliage. It was so beautiful. I wish more people noticed these things. I wish I'd had my digital SLR camera.

I talked to Aria on the phone for more than a hour yesterday. We're making plans to get her here for Christmas. I am going to fly to Kansas City and spend a couple days there and then fly back with her. Knowing that plans to spend time with her are coming together gives me chills, I can't wait. That's all I want for Christmas, to be with her. 

She's having mixed feelings about being there. She texted me a few nights ago telling me that she wants to come back here. I told her that if she really wants to come back I will make it happen. But I want her to really weigh the pros and cons of both places -- it's  not like she just moved to Idaho Falls or something, she lives 17 hours away, she can't go back and forth to live every few months. She told me that she should have thought it out more. She told me that being without Mike, Devin and I is like losing a limb. But at the same time she does not want to disappoint her dad.  I hate that she's dealing with this. She's stressed and scared. I want to fix this for her and I can't . . .

Devin turned 7 last week. I can't believe he is already 7, it really does seem like he was in diapers just last year. People tell you that your child will grow up fast, but you really don't get it until you experience it first hand. He's so much more independent than he was even last year. He tells us he's going outside to play with friends and off he goes! He used to be afraid to go next door to ask if the little neighbor girl could play. He's so much more confident now and I am so proud of him!

He learned a song in school and he's been singing it the last couple of days . . . "Have you ever seen a bear comb his hair? Have you ever seen a moose kissing a goose?" He's silly. 

I have been feeling very artistic lately. I just can't stop drawing and painting. I really don't think I've ever felt the urge to create more than I do now. Not sure where it's coming from, but I like it.  I've been drawing these zentangle things. I have always loved them, so I decided to draw them. Whether I am good at it or not has yet to be determined. 

I've also been dismantling pallets and sanding them down with the hopes of painting them and turning them into something beautiful. I've started one with a tree and birds. . . I know what I am going to add to it, but I don't want to give it away.

We're still trying to figure out what to do with my car. . . one way or the other I have to get something to drive, whether we put all the money in to fix mine or we buy something else . . . having one vehicle for both Mike and I sucks. 

I feel sort of stuck, like I need a change. That's not to say I'm not happy, I am so happy! But I need to do something major, something big. I need to unleash my potential . . . it's in there somewhere. I need to stop being afraid. My kids have both shown so much confidence in the last six months, so I need to find mine. 

I'm still trying to figure out what's going on in my head. I have these major moments where I think I am conquering my body image issues, but then I take two steps back. I hate photos of myself, and by hate I mean I avoid them at all costs. We were goofing off at a Halloween store a couple of weeks ago and I took a dorky picture of myself wearing Princess Laya hair. I decided to challenge myself and make it my Facebook profile photo. I know that seems super casual to most people, but it took some serious guts for me to post a photo of myself looking like a goof ball for the world to see. I have always told myself that I would never post a photo of myself on Facebook unless I was supermodel perfect. Posting that photo was a big deal for me, laugh and snicker if you want. 

And yet, at Devin's birthday party a few days ago I would not let anyone take my photo. No way, no how, it was not going to happen. It was the complete polar opposite of how I'd felt when I posted the Facebook photo. The thought of having my photo taken this time was literally nauseating. It felt to me that it should not have even been considered. I wanted to hide in another room. I don't get it. I hate battling with myself more than anything. 

I'm rambling now, so I should stop. 

Missing my daughter

I wish I could make time stand still, just for a moment, let me breathe this all in before I move on. I can't keep up. Maybe that's how it is supposed to be. Or maybe the sense of urgency in everything is brought on by a capitalistic society influencing us 24/7 and convincing us we need more, that we're not enough.


Sleep evaded me last night. Big surprise.

Downstairs I sat near an open window, breathing in the cool air and wishing to have the kind of peace the darkness of night envelops. I watched the moon ascend, making the branches of the neighbor's tree look like skeleton arms reaching up toward some unknown companion.

It's strange how we are all under the same moon, the same stars, and yet we feel so alone. Darkness amplifies distance — it's the price pay for its serenity.

I miss my daughter more every day. I thought it would be hard at first and then get easier. At first it just seemed like she was on vacation, like she'd be back in a few weeks. Now that I see her face on social media, posting about her interests and projects, her classes and friends, and it hits me that she had started a new life there, 980.7 miles away.

Her physical absence here has left a wound in me as dark as this night that now seems to be holding me hostage.

And yet at the same time I am overflowing with pride. She's shown that she has so much more courage than I, even though my time on this earth more than duplicates hers. At her age I would have never been able to move that far away from my friends and family with nothing but the promise that I'd be Ok.

She made a very adult decision, and she's shown in that and in other ways how strong-willed and undeterred she is.

I found a fitting inspirational quote online last week that I immediately knew I had to send her. It was something to the effect of that, I hope my daughter knows that she can accomplish anything she wants, I hope she sees the value I see in her . . . that type of thing.  Her response, "I already know that ;)"

And she does.

I suppose it is a bit selfish to want her here, when I know she is doing well where she is, but she'll always be my baby, and not being able to hug her is driving me batty. I don't want any gifts for my birthday or Christmas, I just want to hold my daughter, that's it.

She's excelling at school, all As and Bs, she's continuing to learn how to play the violin. She will be taking art classes next semester, and though I admit I am a bit biased, she is really a great artist. Her work amazes me, and I really hope she keeps it up.

She'll be 13 in a couple of months, pretty hard to believe.

These are the things that keep me up at night.

The moon had risen above the skeleton tree at that point, and the night air had turned from cool to brisk. I knew I should try to sleep, but I know myself well enough to know that it would be several hours yet.

I usually have some clever, quirky ending to all of my entries, but this time I am drawing a blank. I'll attribute that to my sleepless night.

Keep your dollar

Mike is working out of town today, and while I usually go home to eat lunch I decided to go for a walk today.

But that of course left me with no time to actually eat anything, so then I had to make the choice between not eating lunch and going through a drive-thru somewhere. So I ended up at McDonalds. (I know, I know, gross, I know, but I figured eating something was better for my metabolism than not eating at all).

There's all alley in between the drive-thru and some houses, and while I was waiting to order I looked over and saw a guy sitting on a cooler writing in a notepad. Next to him was a suitcase with a cardboard sign on top that read "First time in 60 years have needed a hand. I apologize and God bless."

Sitting there I thought about how many people had just passed him by and how hard it must be to  be so down and out that you have to ask for money from people you don't even know. I thought about the dollar bill I had and wondered if I should give it to him. I don't normally carry cash, but I had a dollar in my purse today. I was not going to stop.  I was running late getting back to work from lunch, and how was I supposed to know he actually needed the money? I mean, it sucks, but I am sure there are people in the world who just go set up shop on a street corner who aren't actually in need but just want some extra cash. Douchebags.

Healing

Feeling much better today.

My incisions are starting to itch, I guess that means they are healing. I'm not supposed to be lifting more than 25 pounds and blah blah. I'm trying to be good, but I can't just sit around either.

I went for a decent walk today, and I did a little bit of yard work.

I practiced playing my guitar today. I learned how to play the "Downard Spiral" tune. It is the few notes that repeat several times on the Nine Inch Nails album. Trent plays it on the piano at the end of "Closer." It's not much, but at least I am making some progress. I just have too many projects and things I want to do.

I finally talked to Aria today. I called her and she was actually talkative and wanted to spend some time on the phone with me to tell me all about the new house and her new room. They went to Worlds of Fun yesterday, it's an amusement park in Kansas City. She told me about her favorite rides and that she wants us to go when we come visit. She got a new bed, it is a loft bed. I guess her new room is a bit small so they got the loft bed to make more space. She's in love with her memory foam mattress.

She met a girl named Holly who has the same birthday as her. Not just the same day, but the same year and everything. What are the odds of that? I mean, I could probably figure it out or Google it, but I really don't want to right now. I just know that it does not happen often.

We talked for about an hour, it was nice to hear her voice. And she's happy and doing well. Talking to her really put me at ease, I may be able to sleep more than just a few hours tonight!

Devin keeps asking me when she's coming home. I told him that she moved to a different city, but it's hard for him to understand what is going on. He misses her, and it is hard for me to see that and try to put him at ease.  I tell him that we all miss her and we will visit her.

I have started disassembling the pallets that my friend Krysten's husband got me from his job. I am learning that taking apart a pallet is a royal pain in the ass. They're built sturdy for a reason, I suppose, and that reason is not to be turned into book shelves and wine racks, lol. I can't wait to actually sand the planks down and begin making something with them. Who knows, maybe I will find a niche that I did not know I had. Maybe I will get addicted to repurposing pallets. There are worse things to be addicted to.

I'm going back to work Wednesday. I feel like I have not been there forever. I took the week off before Aria left to spend some time with her, and it was during that week that I found out that I would have to have surgery, so then I came back to work for a few days and then had to take more time off. My boss and co-workers are very understanding, but I still feel bad, I feel like I am leaving everybody hanging. There is not really a back-up person for my job, so when I am gone it just gets put on hold. I am used to that though. Anyone want to guess how many emails I will have when I get back? I am gonna say 1,005. Why not, it is a nice number. And 998 of them will be someone telling me I have won $10,000 and need to give out my bank account number or someone wanting me to buy printer supplies at three times the normal cost. Um, ya, delete.

Mike's crew starts painting the Fed Ex building tomorrow. It is a big job, it is going to take awhile. He's excited. Did I mention I am super great at being sarcastic?

My great-grandma turns 99 next week. Almost a century . . . we're having a big birthday party for her. I can only imagine the things she's seen. . . television, World War II, Kennedy, man on the moon, the Vietnam War, the fall of the Soviet Union, computers, cell phones, cloning sheep. She's so sweet and so humble. I really want to sit with her for awhile and ask her about her memories. I want to be able to have stories for my family history stuff.

As a sort of final note here, if it seems like I have been avoiding people lately, don't take it personal. I have just sort of shut out technology and kept things very simple in my life for the last couple weeks and I have not really talked to anybody. I have needed some time to be still, if that makes any sense. Probably not, my mind is weird. Have you ever meditated? Everyone needs a reset. I am sure when I get back to work on Wednesday things will get back into a routine.

I love you all.

Two life events; one week

It's the morning of Saturday, July 9. Aria is moving to Kansas City on Monday. It's hard to believe it is already here. It came too fast.

I'd like to think that I have been handling it fairly well. I think I have just been pretty numb, with the exception of a couple of nights ago, when, as I lay in the darkness squeezing my pillow like a child it hit me full force.

I want what is best for her. If moving to a larger city with more diversity, more commerce, etc. is a good opportunity for her then I have to let it be. She wants that experience, who am I to tell her she can't at least try it?

I've spent the last couple of days going through all of our photos, picking out some of the best ones of family and all of our trips. We went to Mount St. Helens, Astoria, Oregon, saw the Goonies house, then Seaside and Cannon Beach, Oregon.

We've been to West Yellowstone and Old Faithful, Redfish Lake, and of course Lagoon.  My family's cabin up at the Blackfoot Reservoir has always been a favorite. I am going to print them all out and put them in a photo album for her. Today I am taking her out to lunch, just she and I. I am trying to squeeze as much time in with her as I can.

I think my biggest fear is that she does not miss me when she's gone. I know she does not completely understand, but I've done so much for her and protected her from more than she'll know. I guess I will just have to let the knowledge that I have done my best be good enough, but that is so hard.

My surgery has been scheduled for this Thursday, July 14 at 9 a.m. It should be fairly simple unless there are complications (knock on wood). They are going to put me under and everything. That terrifies me. Anesthesia is just one of those weird fears for me. That and parking garages. I freaking hate parking garages. I don't know how long I am going to have to take off work and all of that, but honestly I am not really thinking that far in advance right now.

The nurse told me that the chances of this happening (the reason I need the surgery) are one in a thousand. Lucky me. The doctor said he has not performed this procedure in five years. Should I buy a lottery ticket? Are you feeling lucky, punk?

I went in for my pre-op on Thursday. They had me fill out all the paperwork, you know the "you understand the risks" crap. I've been surprisingly calm, even I thought I would be freaking out more than I am. The doctor commented that "you are handling this surprisingly well, my dear" and I told him that I know that it could be much worse. I mean, it's not like I have cancer or something, so I am grateful. He laughed and jokingly asked if he could make a YouTube video of me saying that. He's a funny guy.

But, I have learned that there is no sense worrying about it too much. I need to be grateful for all the good in my life and accept these bumps in the road, they add character. And I am going to have some kick ass scars. Scars tell stories of trials and remind you that you've survived this far. Have no fear of what the future holds, you're a tough cookie.

I'm scared, I mean, I would be crazy not to be. But Mike is taking some time off work to take care of me and my boss is very understanding. I have a great support system.

I really wish I could tell everyone in my life how much they mean to me, but I fear that they would think I was being weird if I randomly called and said, "you've changed my life, thank you." Maybe next week when things calm down. Maybe letters. I am much better with the written word than spoken. I kind of sound like Foghorn Leghorn from the Looney Tunes when I try to get sentimental when I talk to somebody. "I say, eh I say boy!" Remember that guy? The big rooster?