Why I'm here....

Since I've always been quick with an opinion an old friend once lost and again found suggested that perhaps I should share with more people my commentary. Never being one to pass on a challenge I thought I'd give it a whirl.

Tuesday, July 10, 2018

Murphy & My Wedding Day: June 16, 2018

Murphy’s law was in full effect on my wedding day.  I loved my wedding so don’t get me wrong.  It’s very memorable and the only thing that matter to me that day was that Jacob and I were becoming man and wife and we could set out on the next chapter in our story. 

I had prayed all week that there wouldn’t be rain.  I know that is a risk when you have an outdoor wedding but I was just hopeful it would be sunny.  It was to say the least.  I knew I had a lot to do, but I planned, or so I thought, for all contingencies.  As it turned out it was the hottest day of the year so far.  I guess I forgot to pray for cool weather or a nice breeze.  Either way we were getting married and I couldn’t have been happier.  I truly married a man that God put me with.  The man of my dreams.  One that accepts me genuinely for who I am. 

My day started out alright with me getting plenty of sleep.  I didn’t do what they suggest though and eat breakfast.  I’m not much on eating when I first get up.  I packed my car with what I thought was everything I could possibly need that day and headed out to the park.  I found my friends Juanita, Kim and Julee working like busy bees putting up decorations.  Originally there were going to be eight people helping but due to a death that week in a co-worker’s family and the extreme heat and personal plans changing it was just the four of us.  I quickly realized we were not going to get it done on our own.  I sent out an SOS on Facebook and to my brother; however, Murphy decided to step in again.  You see I typed them but I never hit send.  Took me over thirty minutes to realize that error in my ways.  When I did finally send them my brother was on it.  He told my nephew and he, his fiancĂ© Hannah & my niece Ashley headed to the park to help with my brother not far behind.  At this point it wasn’t long till we were to leave to get makeup and hair done for my wedding.  I was about to get headed that way when Murphy stepped in again.  It dawned on me that we were missing silverware, napkins, plates and cups.  I was almost certain people were not going to want to dig in with their fingers and toes and after looking we couldn’t find them at the pavilion so I headed to the house to look for them.  Yup, they were there.  On the way I called the hair stylist and advised her we would be running late.  They were super accommodating to say the least.  Very nice ladies at “The Chop Shop”.  I would highly recommend them.  We were about forty-minutes behind getting hair and makeup done.  I had decided to go with the sunless tanning to give my complexion a help out the night before.  It’s not supposed to turn you orange or that is the claim, but there I sat at the beauty shop with them working on hair and me scrubbing my palms and elbows trying to get the yellow/orange hue to be less noticeable.  Thankfully that is the only places it had turned orange.  At this point I just had to sigh and laugh a little.  Murphy certainly was making sure he got to come to the wedding, invited or not.  My makeup & hair and my bridesmaid Abby’s got done about 3:40pm.  Needless to say we missed the pre-wedding photos we were supposed to be doing at 3pm and the wedding was supposed to start at four.   With my hair and makeup done Abby and I headed for the pavilion to get dressed.  With 10 minutes till the wedding was to start we started getting dressed.  I had to have help from my friend Becky and Abby getting into my dress.  It was very hot.  Makeup and Hair were trying to last but the curl was failing a little in my hair.  We had a few fans but not nearly enough.  People kept asking me questions.  Like where did I want the cake and where did I want my mom & dad to sit.  I answered that 2nd one seven times.  Murphy was still with me.  Finally, about 4:10pm my maid of honor made it to the pavilion.  We were ready to go.  I had them go get my dad.  I grabbed the paper out of my folder, that was supposed to be my wedding vows, yeah you read that right.  I took my dad’s arm and my bridesmaids had made it to the front.  I was ready to go.  My heart was full as I looked down and saw how handsome my Jacob looked.  Murphy could bite me, as long as I was going to be his wife, nothing else mattered.  To tell you the truth I was so focused on Jacob I don’t recall seeing my maid of honor or my bridesmaid or his best-woman at all on the walk down the aisle.  Jacob took my hands and then moved the veil from over my face.  Murphy was there again.  The veil kept falling into my face but I still was focused on my love.  He also had another little nudge to let me know he was taking this journey with me as Jacob looked down at my engagement ring still on my finger and mouthed: “Where are the rings?”.  Sigh, they were in the room at the back of the pavilion in my purse.  I quickly turned around and informed my maid of honor.  Now I didn’t know it at the time, I found out afterwards that she took this as an opportunity to play Charades.   I would love to have seen that.  I so wish I had known at the time.  She described to me as she was playing out the scene to get Becky to look for the rings behind me.  I have no idea what the audience thought or didn’t think and I really don’t care.  I’m sure that those who were there for us just wanted us to be married.  I did find out someone thought it embarrassing, but that person can have their own opinion.  They took no part in planning it, never offered, they didn’t help set up and they surely didn’t stay to help tear down so I personally don’t care.  I found it a refreshing way to make sure the moment was memorable.   When it came time for the vows my new husband had made sure to put his in a frame and he read the words he had wrote for me.  I teared up a little.  Most girls dream of their wedding day.  They plan it from the time they are old enough to dream until it happens.  To tell you the truth until Jacob and I started planning and talking about our wedding I never really gave it much thought.  It was something that would or would not occur and I really wasn’t sure what I would want.  I’m sure it would have changed since I am an older bride than I would have dreamed of back in those days.  What Jacob and I wanted was to have fun.  We didn’t care about superstitions or preconceived ideas of how things were supposed to be.  I also didn’t want it to be all about what I wanted.  I wanted him to have fun as well.  Trust me I got all kinds of advice and people telling me along the planning stage about what I must and must not do.  If I could give any couple advice it would be to just nod and thank them and then do what you want anyway.  As Jacob finished up reading his vows I took my paper which was folded up from my maid of honor and opened it to read.  Dear old Murphy slapped me in the face.  I had to stifle a laugh because of course he had struck again.  I looked at the paper which read: “Things left for the Maid of Honor to do.”  This meant my vows I had taken so much time to carefully write was in the back room in the folder still.  I folded the paper back over and handed it back to my maid of honor and said:  I guess I’m winging it.  I tried to follow from memory what I had written.  I think I hit most of it quite well.  I remember that Murphy got bored at this point and wandered off to see who else he could entertain because I don’t recall him being there anymore that day.  It was hot so I think my choice of water and flavors turned out to be a hit.    Things didn’t go as planned and were not as organized as I had hoped, but in the end it didn’t matter.  I was married to this man that has made me feel so at home in this life finally. The food was good, what little I got of it and I think other than heat people had a nice time.  It was too hot for anyone to want to stick around for a long entertaining evening so no games were played and dancing was not going to happen in the heat, but I still thank God for my blessings.  I have some wonderful family and friends who were there to support me on my next chapter in life.   Everyone but one person gave me compliments on the wedding and my dress.  One person told me it was awful and a fiasco.  I just shuck my head and remembered in the end the only people’s opinions of that day that mattered were mine and Jacobs and it could have been just he and I there and we still would have gone through with our wedding.  He and I had vowed to each other earlier that no matter what June 16, 2018 was going to be the day we were married no matter what we had to do to see it through.   We made it.  We both agreed we enjoyed our day.  We both agreed we will remember it forever and that is what matters. 




Special thanks go to:

 Juanita Burks.  Without you I would never have made it through this all.  You were and are my rock and sister.

Julee Bouchie you went way above and beyond and I can never thank you enough for all that you have done.

Kim Daler you are an awesome friend and I appreciate all that you did that day and all that you do every day.

Mr. & Mrs. Burke thanks so much for the Cake and gifts and for making me feel like I’m your daughter and welcoming me into your family with open arms.

Dustin Kissling, I can’t even begin to tell you how much you mean to me.  Thank you for making sure my music was there and that you brought that smile that can just brighten up any room or pavilion in this case.

Dakota Short & Ashley Short thank you for being the best niece and nephew anyone could have and for setting up the pavilion and taking pictures.  FYI… thank you too Hannah Banana.

Ritchie Short thank you for being an outstanding brother and photographer.  You have always been there for me and I will always be there for you.  Love you.

Kris Cortez.  Thank you for standing up for Jacob and always being there for him.

Sarah, Daphne & Gwyn Digangi – Thanks for welcoming me into your family

Mathew West.  Thank you for marrying us and being the best cousin a girl could have.  Love you.

Finally, below are the vows as I had written them:


 My Vows to Jacob 


 I Vow to you

All my life I’ve felt as if I never truly belonged.  I was looking for that someone I could connect with.  Someone who would make me feel like it was ok to be me with no restrictions.  Someone who would unconditionally love me.

When we met there was a comfort with you that I have never felt with anyone else.  There was a renewed strength in my faith in both the Lord and in Love.  My heart was home.

I promise to love you always. 
I promise to be your rock & strength when you feel weak.
I promise to lean on you when I need strength because you are whom God chose for me.

I promise to listen with an open mind
I promise to understand your times of anger, sorrow or disappointment
You will never fail me for I will work with you as we are being united as man & wife.
Your happiness, sorrow and anger are mine, as we are one.

I will have days where I’m sad
I will have days where I’m moody
I will get angry and I will cry
This makes you and I both human to do these things

I promise to work with you to make our life happy and righteous
Together you and I will serve the Lord and each other
I will work at our marriage as it is a living thing that requires nourishing

I give you my love always
For me you are the one I want with me till the end of time
I will put you first before all others except my Lord
And my Lord I will give thanks to every day until I die for bringing you to me

I look forward to our journey and where it takes us.  I cannot imagine being anywhere else.

With you I am happy and I vow to do my best to make you happy as well.

------

Wednesday, April 18, 2018

Redefining Beauty


Redefining Beauty
I have no doubt my parents did what they thought was right for me.  They tried to raise me in a loving and nourishing family.  Let’s face it children don’t come with a hand book that tells you exactly what to do to get the perfect adult.  All in all, I believe most people try to do what is right.  There are just a chosen few who make it seem otherwise.  Was I a happy child?  I would say for the most part I was happy.  I didn’t grow up into a happy healthy adult like I should have though.  For me it would take decades to understand why and to come to terms with it and be happy and healthy emotionally.   First and foremost, I love my parents with all my heart and I would never wish to hurt them, but a roll in my emotional non-wellness had to be laid on their shoulders.  I am an avid believer from how I grew up that parents should never fight in front of their children.  I’m over a half century old and I can still hear some of their arguments in my head.  The blaming game is what I used to call it.  Words can hurt your children even when they are not directly meant to.  I remember mostly in my mind my dad telling my mom during arguments that if she didn’t have the kids he’d leave her ass.  I know now he didn’t mean it.  They were just words said in anger, but to a child they meant he didn’t love her.  As I know now this was a form of mental abuse for my mother and for myself.  I remember one time him packing up my brother and I in his white pickup truck and hauling us up to his mom’s house.  I remember him telling mom he was leaving her.  My grandmother wasn’t going to have any of that though.  When she heard why he’d ran off she sent him with his tail between his legs back to my mother.  I was two years old at the time.  Yes, you heard that correctly.  People think that a child that young can’t remember, well they can if the image is burnt into their mind deep enough.  I remember a lot about that year we lived in Kentucky.  Only two but I remember family walks, the store we had and the little creek that ran behind the house.  For the most part the year there was a carefree and adventurous time. I was still a non molded clay to be direction-ally lead, but in that year a lot happened.  I remember a lot of it.  Strange that one year would be so in my mind, but it is and it’s probably where the start of my issues began.
               What is the definition of beauty?  The Webster dictionary defines beauty as the quality or aggregate of qualities in a person or thing that gives pleasure to the senses or pleasurably exalts the mind or spirit.   Sounds simple enough; however, growing up every advertisement, every magazine and every show I ever watched basically stated that beauty is being a certain size and shape.  In my mind if you didn’t measure up then you were basically ugly.  That is how I felt most of my life.  Ugly.  I was either too fat or too thin.  I either didn’t have enough hips or too much.  My feet were too big for a girl.  I was too tall for a girl.  Boobs, didn’t have them for a while then have them big time.  Every aspect of what our society socializes to be beauty I felt I failed at.  Growing up most of the time I was a little chubby.  Baby fat is what my grandmother would call it.  I remember my dad talking about me being fat with her right in front of me and God love her she’d tell him it was baby fat and I’d grow out of it to leave me alone.  Maybe if he’d listened I would have.  Who knows.  His mother was very loving and kind in my memory and she was always on my side.  The children in school were no better than my dad though when it came to this.  Kids can be cruel.  I took my share of being bullied or teased.  Over the years though it shaped me into a person who wouldn’t stand for anyone to be treated that way. It made me strong whether by design or not, so I suppose in that respect it had a good result of sorts.  Everywhere it seemed and everyone it would have seemed people saw me as fat.  Looking back, I wasn’t that fat, but I felt huge.  Every girl goes through a stage from around eleven to sixteen where their body will store extra fat as they have a coming of age.  If treated right they will even back out, but if treated wrong it can cause weight issues in either direction.  I didn’t learn that lesson until way too late in life. I remember two times very clear in my mind that would set me up for emotional failure later in life.  Both occurred around eleven or twelve years old.  One was a neighbor asking me if I planned to lose weight because men don’t like fat girls and yes one was my own dad who told me men don’t like women who are fat and that I’d never find a husband if I didn’t lose weight.  Again, I know my dad loved me and in his mind, he was doing what was best for me.  I remember the humiliation of him paying me to lose weight.  I remember way too many things from being young that had to do with my being overweight.  It is what sticks out my mind the most about my childhood, which in one very huge way is a sad thing.  What would occur next in my life would set me up for a few years of depression and a feeling of being lost.
               My grandmother Lula was a strong woman.  She had to be to raise a family all on her own.  Her husband, my grandfather, died when my dad was only six years old.  That left her with a family to raise all on her own, including a six-week-old new born baby, my dad, his two older brothers and his sister.  She had a farm with crops, stabled horses and kept chickens and pigs.  She couldn’t afford to be weak or sit and wallow in her sorrows.  She took charge and made the best out of the situation.  She knew how to manage money and I recall her making quilts and rag dolls.  I’m sure she did her best to fill the role of both dad and mom, but there are some things that she couldn’t teach them by example, such as how a man treats a woman.  My dad expected every woman to be as tough as his mom and I suppose the way I was raised I ended up being quite tough.  I never wanted to be though.  I wanted to have someone there to allow me to break down and cry or just be weak in a moment of need.  That wasn’t where my dad’s train of thought came from though and it never seemed to happen.  My grandmother always had my back though and you could see the love in her eyes when she looked at you.  My grandmother was a short stout woman herself and I’m sure she didn’t really appreciate my dad’s views on weight.  Come to think of it he was always a little over weight himself.  Either way she wasn’t going to have him telling me stuff like that in front of her.  Problem was she lived in Kentucky and my dad and his family lived in Indiana so she was only there to jump to my defense when we were there.  I loved her a lot and I was always happy at her home.  I have so many fond memories of playing on her porch and out in her yard.  I do miss her so.  I remember all my childhood dreams of growing up and having a daughter I could name after her and having her come to my wedding and her seeing me graduate.  Not one of those things would come to be though.  I was in some respects her favorite.  I was born on her birthday.  We were exactly fifty-nine years apart in age to the very minute.  Perhaps that made her and I kindred souls.  I don’t know, but I do know that in November of 1983 my world changed forever.  My rock of support was no longer there and my first loss of someone I truly loved brought me face to face with a sadness I was not prepared for. 
               Driving to Kentucky for my grandmother’s funeral was the first time I ever remember seeing my dad cry, as a matter of fact it’s the only time I’ve ever seen him cry.  I’ve seen him sad, but until that day he was an extreme pillar of unwavering strength.  He was an orphan.  True he was a grown man with a family but the only parent he truly knew well and the one who had always been there for him was gone.  I was sixteen years old.  I remember walking into the funeral home when we got there.  I remember people laughing and talking.  I remember touching her hand and how cold it was.  She didn’t look like herself.  She had been ill for some time and in the hospital.  She was no longer stout, but rather stick thin.  Her eyes were closed and her hands were crossed on her chest.  To this day I have no idea what anyone said to me that night at the funeral home.  I just remembering feeling numb.  I remember them moving her to the old church house that she attended.  I remember food and talking with people who were walking inside and out.  I remember the night service the day before her funeral.  I remember someone talking about who was staying.  In the south they used to, not sure they still do, but they used to sit up all night with the dead and be with the body.  I for the life of me can’t remember it being cold at all during that time.  It would have had to have been in the end of November, wouldn’t it?  I remember the day of her funeral.  I looked around at people giving comfort to their spouses, their friends and family.  I sat alone with no one doing that for me.  I had to be strong again.  It wasn’t my turn to be weak.  Just keep your head up and listen.  I don’t remember what was said in the service.  I just remember wishing we were going to the grave yard, but we didn’t.  Dad had to get back home so we wouldn’t be seeing my grandmother off to the family graveyard.  The ride back was very quiet.  My mood was blank and empty. 
The next few months I would start exercising to try and lose weight.  It was one thing I could control in my life.  Somehow, I just felt like things were changing too quickly and I couldn’t control any of it.  Exercising took my mind off that.  It helped me focus on the motions of doing and not living.  My weight became my new obsession and I slowly learned how to hide and get rid of food without my mother realizing I wasn’t eating it.  Over the next couple of years, I would focus on my body.  By the time I was eighteen I was eating once every three days.  Sometimes I wouldn’t even eat then.  I would do contests with myself to see how long I could go without food.  Seven days was the longest I did.  I drank plenty of water so I wasn’t dehydrating but my body was growing weaker.  When I did eat I didn’t eat much and sometimes I felt guilty and would go run to the bathroom and throw it up.  I realized it wasn’t healthy and I also realized I no longer had control of the one thing I thought I did.  I also no longer cared what people thought of my body.  The only one that mattered was me.  I wanted to be thinner and thinner.  By eighteen I was 5 feet eight and a half inches tall and weighed around a hundred and thirty pounds.  To put this in perspective for my body height and frame doctors told me to stay between one fifty and one seventy-five.  The easy solution to the doctors not knowing I wasn’t doing this was simply to not go to them.  This again was a vicious cycle.  I was once ashamed to go to doctors because I was overweight and now I was ashamed to go because I was too thin.  You see in my opinion the doctors had a part in my emotional issues as well.  Especially this one.  Instead of approaching it in a positive way they would negatively remark on my weight and tell me to lose weight.  Weight loss was met with praise.  I didn’t see anyone praising me for health or even talking about if I should be healthy or not.  Just make sure you’re thin.  Again, body issues and images were brought to the front of my mind.  I remember getting extremely sick.  I had the flu, but my body was reacting like I was dying.  My mother would cater to my needs and when I went to the bathroom I could barely walk there.  I remember being at work.   I remember passing out.  My body had put up with all it wanted to and I was starting to see that.  Unlike some girls though common sense popped into my head at this point.  If something didn’t change I would die.  I played with that thought in my mind.  Part of me felt comfort at the idea, but another part knew my life was worth living, so I reach out to the company psychiatrist and started trying to get my emotions out.  This would be my first time to see someone in this occupation.  I wasn’t sure how the game was played and I wasn’t completely sure I trusted him.  I told him a lot of the things in my mind but I left out much more than I told him.  He knew I was troubled, but I never told him of my eating disorder. I wasn’t ready for that.  Over the months of seeing him once a week I came to do better.  I slowly took to eating every other day and eventually got to eating once a day. I knew I was getting better in that respect, but I also knew there was still something very wrong inside of me.
Over the next few years I would learn a lot about life.  My parents had sheltered me.  There was lot I didn’t know about the world.  I worked at the Fort Wayne Children’s Zoo starting at sixteen.  I spent five years in total there and I learned people can be cruel.  There was a woman there named Carol.  She was the first person to ever out and out tell me she didn’t like me.  She was mean to me almost all the time and if she was assigning the jobs of the day you could guarantee I was getting an ugly job assignment.  I remember her showing pictures of herself to guys that worked there.  I couldn’t help but see her as vulgar, but I was young.  Perhaps my youth is why she didn’t like me.  At the time it bothered me a lot.  The me that is here today wouldn’t have wasted a moment on caring.  There were good people there too.  I remember a guy named William that watched out for me.  I don’t know what happened to him but I wonder sometimes if he knows how much I appreciated and still do appreciate that.  In this time, I would start learning that freedom comes with a price and adulthood perhaps wasn’t all I had hoped it would be.  There were so many things I didn’t understand.  Life wasn’t like the movies or the television shows. The world wasn’t as wholesome as I had always thought and there were so many things I was about to discover on this journey.  So many things I wish I still didn’t know.  My innocence of the world would no longer be in place after that summer.  There were ugly things out there.  Things my parents had sheltered me from and things I would have to learn to understand and once again handle on my own.
I graduated high school in the summer of 1986.  I was a few weeks away from 19 years old and I was working a job for Lincoln National Corporation.   I had won a college scholarship, but I really didn’t want to go to college.  This wasn’t a choice I felt I had though.  People were pushing me to study computers and I followed that direction.  I was tall and paper thin.  I had a better grasp on my eating, but I once again was making sure I ate as little as I could and still feel strong enough to handle my day. Food had never been far out of my thoughts.  I still had an unnaturally unhealthy obsession with counting calories and making sure I didn’t eat more than a meal a day.  I had it in my mind at this time and would for many years that my self-worth was based on whether men found me attractive or not.  Somehow in my mind Sex and love were synonymous with each other.  No, I didn’t go out and sleep around but I wanted a man to want me, yet at the same time, the thought terrified me.  I did date some at this age, but I never gave into lust.  I was considering the option of waiting for marriage.  I at least had that modicum of self-respect.  I remember my graduation day.  My mother, my brother and a neighbor of ours came.  My dad unfortunately had to work.  I know he had to, but I was so disappointed that he didn’t skip work and come.  To me it was as if he was saying it wasn’t important.  I always wanted my dad’s approval.  That really sounds like a clichĂ© to say that, but it is the truth.  I think every little girl wants their daddy to approve of their life.  I spent years trying.  Heck I even learned to love basketball after my brother got married just to get to spend some quality time with him.  I never have even to this day felt as though I was the daughter he wanted or the one he was proud of.  Again, I know he loves me, but there is a difference in love and respect. 
Over the decades I dated a bunch of men who were not right for me in any manner of speaking.  I usually dated those that I felt I could best keep at bay.  This isn’t what I thought I wanted, but it was the best way I knew to get that attention I craved.  I suppose you could say I really didn’t think that one out well.  I dated a couple of guys that turned out to be gay.  A guy that has been in and out of prison multiple times since we stopped dating.  (Guess I dodged a bullet on that one).  I’ve dated drunks.  I’ve dated guys that were so good looking even they couldn’t stop looking at themselves in the mirror.  I’ve bar hopped and partied.  I’ve tried drugs I probably shouldn’t have and I am thankful to God to this day he never let me get addicted.  I’ve dated guys that treated me poorly to say the least.  I once dated a guy for six months who told me what to eat, when to eat and who I could talk to.  Uh, nope I didn’t take it for long, but I was surprised I took it at all.  This is just another level of needing to feed the abuse pattern I would suppose.  My big wakeup call was the last guy I dated for a long period of time.  Five years to be exact.  He was a user big time.  I was infatuated with him.  I so craved to find love.  He would tell you he was wonderful to me, but he really wasn’t.  Looking back on the way he treated me I sigh with relief that the good Lord got me out of that one.  I spent more time crying than I did my entire life in that relationship.  He didn’t mind telling me my flaws.  Something snapped over time in my mind that said this isn’t love on any level.  I jumped in and started searching the dating sites.  Let me tell you if you want to get depressed go out there and start dating.  There are more losers and users than one would like to imagine possible.  I dated a guy who thought that telling me at the end of our first date he’s getting us a motel room so we can have sex and he will see if he wants a second date would get me to have sex with him.  He was a fireman and I love my comeback.  So glad I thought of it.  I said: “Baby you are really good at your job.  You just put out my fire.  I’m not interested in a second date.”  One of those times when divine intervention must have been there.   I poor my heart into relationships.  I always have hope they will work out but after him and after several dates of the gene pool out there I was ready to give up. 
               By November of 2015 I had about decided I was going to try to be happy by myself.  I had found every loser possible in the surrounding counties I was certain of it.  I did date one or two really nice guys, but unfortunately, they were still hung up on other people.  Dating them did help build my confidence though.  Another thing that helped build my confidence was seeing a counselor.  She’s wonderful.  I think everyone should have someone they can talk to that fits their personality, will listen and you have no fears of what you tell them.  She helped me to see some of the things I still questioned in the back of my mind were true.  She helped me with understanding I do deserve to be loved and that I can be.  Along this time my future husband asked me out to a date to Applebee’s.  I almost didn’t go.  Not because I didn’t like the emails we had exchanged but because it always seemed out the men on these sites never turned out like they were in their emails.  I thought ok last one.  I’ll go get it over with and move on.  The thing is he was exactly who he portrayed himself to be.  He was caring and considerate and was upfront with so many points of information.  My thought immediately was that he’d been on some of the same type of dates.  I found myself at ease with him, yet I still didn’t trust it.  I had given up.  I was forty-eight years old and I just figured at this point I was meant to be alone.  At the end of our dinner he told me he didn’t want the date to end.  I felt the same, but I was still being cautious.  I informed him I needed to go to the Meijer’s on the other side of the parking lot and he was welcome to come with me and he did.  We walked even though it was a bit brisk outside.  Inside the Meijer I found myself being me.  We played with toys, laughed and I eventually did get the few groceries I needed.  Over the next few weeks we went out more and more.  He treated me and still treats me two and a half years later like a princess.  He’s always telling me I’m beautiful.  I love this man so much.  I almost missed out on him, but God made sure I didn’t.  He’s helped me feel good about me.  Yes, I’d like to lose the weight I’ve gained back while being sick, but he doesn’t seem to mind.  He brings me flowers, rubs my feet and lets me just lay my head on his shoulder if that is what I need.  Through him and my hard work of learning and understanding I have come to redefine beauty in my mind’s eye.  I wish I had known what I know now all my life.  What a difference it might have made, yet at the same time I might have missed out on him if I had.  He’s beautiful to me inside and out and he always makes me feel the same.  I’ve redefined my definition of beauty.   I wish the world could redefine it too.  Too many ads and people trying to make it about things it isn’t.  The greatest beauty is God’s Love.  The greatest beauty is sharing your heart with another.  It’s being who you are and being comfortable to be that person with the person you share your life with.  Yes I’ve redefined beauty and I’m happy I finally did.




Wednesday, February 28, 2018

Anger only Destoys


Let’s face it, we all get angry from time to time.  It’s a normal human response to life events.  Anger though is a worthless, wasted emotion.  As a human we also can choose how we deal with the anger.  We don’t have to have outburst, or go beat up the guy across the street.  When I was younger I let anger control me.  I was young and I hadn’t learned what I know now.  I would lash out, scream, pound my fist and even in some cases seek revenge on whomever or whatever situation made me angry.  Now I’m not saying that the thought of doing those things still doesn’t cross my mind, because they do.  Every now and again I even find myself starting to get high toned and ready to let go, but I try to stop myself.  Now not only do I find that I have more peace in my life with my approach to life, but I’m also probably better off for it on other avenues as well.  I mean in today’s time people will shoot you for looking at them wrong let alone going off on them.  Then there is our justice system which is proving that it is blind in these ages.  Even if you are the wronged party you could end up in jail or with a record you don’t need.  Over the last few years I have learned to look at the event, the person or persons involved and even my own role in the situation and try to evaluate it before I explode.  I find most of the time I can talk calmly and keep my peace and wits about me.  I try to talk to the party about it if it really bothers me.  Yelling and screaming or even hitting someone rarely and I doubt ever really solves any issue.  It took time to master the art of doing this.  I had to learn by holding my breath… Walking away, counting to ten and here’s the hard part… I had to learn to see my own part in the situation.  I had to find my own blame.  An example I am going to use would be from this past Sunday.  My baby and I were scrapping as we do and usually people are cool.  A lot of them will bring us stuff.  A guy waived us down and gave us a grill to scrap this past week.  It was a beautiful day and whether we find stuff or not it’s a time I enjoy greatly getting to just talk and be together.  God is always good to us and we are thankful to Him for all that he provides.  As we were ending our route we do we stopped waiting for this car that had its lights on that was backing out of a drive and we didn’t wait long but he wasn’t pulling out.  So, we pulled over to the curb on the opposite side of his drive to pick up scrap metal.  As he backed out of the drive Jack even said I bet he’s pissed off we are sitting here.  Well he drove two houses down and just stopped in the road.  Where we were didn’t hamper him from getting out of his drive at all.  It had no effect on him, but here was this guy letting this beautiful day be wasted by getting mad because we existed in his universe.  The people at the house came home and we moved out of the front of their drive way.  They were very nice and we have a date next week to go back and pick up some stuff from them set up.  The man in the car put his car in reverse, yes, he had set there all that time, and got out of his car and approached his neighbors and Jack.  He went off on Jack and told him if he set stuff out that he best not catch him getting it.  Yup, ignorant ass.  The gentleman’s neighbor told him she invited us there and that he just needed to go away.  We were not hurting this guy one bit, but yes, I can see how us stopping behind him as he pulled out might have upset him, even though we were not in his way.  Before leaving this guy verbally threatened Jack.  He threated to beat his ass.  I found it a little amusing that this guy was that angry over something so stupid but my baby didn’t like being threatened, but he didn’t do anything out of respect for the neighbor that was standing there with him.  She even told him to ignore the guy.  This guy really was stupid.  What if Jack had a temper and a gun?  That is the way things are these days?  What if we choose to bring charges for the assault threat?  This guy was not so smart.  Bringing charges would just have him feuding with the neighbor though and they are being nice to us so that wouldn’t be a way to repay them.  Now if this bothered the guy so much he had to say something to feel better he could have simply stopped and said “hey can you please not pull over in front of my drive next time?  I would appreciate it.”  How hard would it be for the world to use kindness instead of hate, rage and anger?  Or if the anger were deep maybe he could go to the gym and take it out on a treadmill.  That would have been productive.  The way he did it was very negative and in the end probably left him regretful.  If it were me I’d be fearful in these times too.  You never know who you’re talking to these days and what they will do if you upset them.  Lucky for him we are God fearing people who love the Lord and his word.  What if we weren’t?  Where would that leave him?  Thinking before you act or speak is a long-lost art I think.  Anger is a wasted emotion.  Anger unless righteous only tears down and destroys the person who is angry and everyone and everything in their path of rage.  Let it go and see how much better you will fair and feel.   ---

*informational – When garbage, scrap, old furniture, etc. is placed at the curb for the garbage man to collect it becomes public domain and is free for the taking. 

Friday, December 29, 2017

Looking for a little help.. if you please



https://www.gofundme.com/50-years-to-find-him-he039s-worth-it



To my family, friends and those who may wish to help. It took me Forty-eight years to find my knight in shining armor.  He's everything I could ever want and more.   I am setting up this GO Fund me account to try to assist with my wedding and honeymoon costs.  Jacob and I are picking up the cost all our own and we would also like to do a few renovations to the house to make it friendlier for a couple.  I have a lot of it covered but Not sure I will make it all.  If you would like to help you can donate here or you may send money to myself or Jacob.  If you do not want to donate money you may do gift cards to help during the honeymoon. If you can’t help or don’t want to I understand that as well.  Our lives are all busy and costly these days.  I love you all and no matter what I look forward to my life ahead with Jacob.

Friday, November 3, 2017

Things That Go Bump In The Night...


I awoke with a confused startle.  What was that noise.  It almost sounded as if someone were in the house moaning.  I struggled to get awake enough to confirm my surroundings.  A cold wet nose nuzzled against my right cheek.  Yes, I was laying on my living room sofa and across the room I could see the clock.  It’s only 9 minutes past midnight I thought.  Sigh, less than six hours till I had to go to work.  Again, I heard muffled sounds.   My mind played with the possibility that my mother was having another nightmare.  The medicine she’s on often causes her to have nightmares and cry out in her sleep.  Thankfully though she doesn’t remember them.  I’ve learned to just let her sleep through them.  I mentally stretch my hearing in the direction of the bedroom of which she’s on the other side.  No, it’s not her.  Now, I can clearly hear sirens off in the distance, but the sound is ever so slowly heading in my direction.   My fogged brain slowly starts to comprehend the noises that I am hearing.  There it is, the moaning.  It’s simply the wind and winter announcing its intended arrival.  Bear, my Pekinese, seams annoyed that I’m moving my head as I listen.  For a couple of minutes, I listen to the sirens, wondering if they will come down my street but they veer off and are obviously now heading a little away from me.  Sounds don’t usually wake me of this nature.  I settle back down and with ease it seems fall back to sleep.  As I sleep I am dreaming of some new job I have.  In the dream, the job is one where I must choose which people get bonus checks and which ones don’t.  It seems completely off kilt to me as I have never wanted to be in charge or be in management.  I am about to say when I am again awoken.  This time Bear is barking and growling and jumps from beside me to go stand in front of the door.  I hear a noise that makes me get up as well.  I go to the window and peak out to see a figure running down my driveway.  Am I dreaming?  I turn on a light and look around.  Then I hear the wind slamming my screen door against my outer door.  No, I’m awake.  I open the door and grab the slamming screen door and pull it closed and lock it.  I always make sure it’s closed because I know what the wind will do to it.  I’m befuddled at the thought that someone was at my door this time of night.  My dog, Bear, had alerted me and awakened me to the person trying to gain entry or so it would seem.  I looked out again and there is no one out there now.  I’ve lived in this neighborhood since 1999.  I have had a kid walk up and try to open my door when I was sitting on the sofa during broad daylight once a few years back.  I think it startled him that I was looking right at him through the window.  I have also had gas stolen from my car twice, but for the most part my neighborhood is harmless.  I looked at the clock again and it’s shortly after 1 in the morning.  My mind flashes back to the sirens less than an hour earlier.  I’ve seen too many movies is what runs through my mind.  The two couldn’t possibly be connected.  Reality again sinks in and I am a woman who likes my sleep.  I leave the lights in the living room on and curl back up on the sofa.  I need sleep before work in the morning.  Surprisingly I fell back to sleep and into dreamland with no trouble what so ever.  When I awoke this morning, I got dressed as usual and headed off to work.  My mind flashing back to the nights events.   I suppose it should bother me more than does that someone did that last night.  I mean it was only yesterday I was thinking about how awful it is that someone just walked into a Walmart and took lives with no thought.  Those people were going about their daily lives and didn’t have a care in the world or fear at doing their shopping there and now they are no longer among the living.  I choose to put my faith in the Lord though.  He will not let anything happen to me before it’s my time to go.  For me though it was a thought that it could have been very different for me last night.  I sleep very soundly so if my little Bear hadn’t awakened me and made such a fuss that person might have gotten in.  Who knows what would have happened then.  So, I gave this little guy a home a little over a year ago and yes, he can be handful but to me last night he earned his keep.  He earned a place in my heart that he already had but he’s sealed the deal now.  Ten pounds of fluff that was so intent on making sure no one came in to hurt me.  So, things that go bump in the night beware… Officer Bear protects this home!

Friday, June 23, 2017

Google Pixel XL VS Samsung Galaxy 8+


So, as many of you know, being the klutz I am, I fell a couple of weeks ago and ripped out one of my stitches, well I also cracked the screen on my Samsung Galaxy 7.  It wasn’t a bad crack, but I still didn’t like that it was cracked so this led me to go ahead and upgrade my phone.  I reviewed all the phones and I care about listening to music, clear reception on calls and taking awesome pictures.  Everything I read led me to believe that the Google Pixel XL would be the way to go.  The reviews on this phone looked awesome.  With this information, I ordered the Google Pixel XL.  I got it Monday.  This phone was incredibly easy to set up; however, right away I noticed that the graphics didn’t seem up to snuff and the look and feel of the phone was somewhat antiquated.  Now, I’m not one to just give up without giving it a try so I installed all the items I needed, set everything up and used it all day Tuesday and Wednesday.  By Thursday I was deeply aware that I wasn’t comfortable with this phone and I wasn’t happy with it.  I noticed that in certain areas of the city it would take what seemed like forever to pull up something after I requested it.  Now knowing that the longer it takes to load the more data you chew up that didn’t make me that happy with the phone.  I wasn’t going anywhere I didn’t go all the time so it seemed odd.  I spoke with a Verizon rep and was told no problem I could go to the Verizon Store and exchange it if I wasn’t happy with it.  Last night I did just that.  I explained to the gentleman what problems I had been having and that I had looked up information on LTE.  This phone is an LTE phone.  There are wonderful articles out there that will explain to you that LTE is supposed to be 4G equivalent; however, it goes on to say it’s not quite there yet and it’s more like having 3G.  The gentleman at the store told me that must be an old article I had read.  I quickly informed him it was from April and I believed it.  He spoke with his manager who has the same phone and he said he was noticing the same issues in some parts of town I was.  I reviewed all the phones and played with them for quite a while and I settled on a Samsung Galaxy 8+.  Now I was worried like everyone else about the curved screen but I got a case and glass protector and a holster cover for when I’m not using the phone that will hopefully help keep from breaking the screen if I drop it.  Immediately after setting it up and starting to use it I felt a breath of relief.  It was like being home after months on the road. It just felt right.  The feel of the phone in my hand and the graphics and the sound are all exactly what I wanted.  I have not had any problems loading anything right away today.  It’s an awesome phone.  The guy told me they had nothing but rave reviews from customers for the Google Pixel but he was like me and preferred the Samsung.  Over all I suppose I am happy I tried it, because if I had not I would always wonder; however, I was not happy with the $35 restocking fee I was charged to change phones.  I guess I kind of feel like since I’ve been their customer for 20 years and they do say that you can exchange phones why am I paying a restocking fee.  You don’t pay a restocking fee when you take back items to a store.  I informed the guy I wasn’t happy with that and he said well I can’t resell it as new.  I guess I understand that but in the next breath he said he’d have to return it to Google.  So, he’s not selling it at all.  I kind of feel like that is a bit of a scam.  I also don’t believe they should charge their customers an activation fee for upgrading.  This is just my opinion I suppose.  Over all for the money it is my opinion that Samsung wins hands down over the Google phone.  The look and feel of The Google Pixel XL along with the often slow download and upload speeds left me somewhat cold.  Sorry Google.

Friday, April 7, 2017

John Edwards - Psychic medium



A friend of mine & I went to see John Edwards performance at the Grand Wayne Center in Fort Wayne Indiana this past Wednesday night.  The venue was smaller than I had expected it to be.  I have long been a fan of John's for his ability to help bring comfort to so many through his writings.  I have every book he's written and I love them all.  They are an inspiration so if you've not read them I would highly suggest that you do.  This being said I am a skeptic to a large degree on what he is or is not doing when he's giving a reading.  I watched carefully for ques from the people he was reading and listened closely to every word he said.  He seemed confident in his choices of telling people things about their family; however, it almost seemed like fishing too.  I guess I also have a hard time because I have had so many things happen to me in my own life that I should automatically believe.  I mean I've passed messages on to friends and family from the other side to help them.  I've known things way ahead of schedule I should not know.  I've seen things I can't  explain.  Here's the thing though I'm not sure if what I've seen, heard and felt is a person communicating from the other side or an angel conveying the message from above to help the soul here that needs the message.  These things also don't happen to me on a command basis.  I can't just say OK I'm open so lets start talking to people.  Then there are night visits.  I've had many visits as John described them in my dreams.  They are so vivid that when you wake up you're lost as to where you are.  Are these actually the spirits of loved ones passed or are they again angles helping us with a need to see loved ones and be comforted.  Then there is a scarier option that the things that go bump in the night are demons and that they are here to seem as if they are giving comfort only to lead us away from the Father.  Now I loved that John Acknowledged God in his reading he did.  Although he says he's not a fan of organized religion he is a believer.  That is of comfort as well.  Most of the questions and "hits" he had with the audience I could have had a hit on as well, as in I could have answered yes to the questions he asked; however, I think I would have to believe, or I feel that I have had a larger number of deaths in my life than most people.  I've known people who were murdered, committed suicide, died in car accidents, lost to a fire, one lost to the waters... so you see I could probably hit on about anything he could come up with so again it makes me a harder target.  Why has death been so prominent in my life.  If I could have asked one question of John that probably would have been the one for me.  Now on the day that I went to see John's performance I was getting ready to drive at 12:18 pm when something told me to note the time.  It also went on to tell me to ask John when the last time he enjoyed a reading and did it for no cost.  No cost in money, no cost to his soul.  I wasn't sure what to think of this but I could not get it off my mind all day.  I sure as hell wasn't about to raise my hand and ask that question of John in front of everyone and I live on a check by check basis so the general admission was really more than I should of spent to go see him I didn't spend the extra to go spend one on one time with him although I would love to have. A friend of mine was there though and I told her to tell John that 12:18 is supposed to mean something to him.  I'm not sure what and I don't know why.  I felt better even though I don't know if she conveyed it or not.   That same friend was with her mom and they told me how the mother had asked for two signs for the night.  One was for a feather.  Now they told as how a small feather had fallen from the ceiling in there right before we came in and landed a little ways from them.  Where would a feather come from in the Grand Wayne Center exhibit hall?  I do have prophetic dreams.  I've had them all my life.  I do believe I've walked and talked with Jesus in a dream and I do believe I've been shown the end of days.  So maybe it's harder for me to believe?  I know I believe in the writings of the King James Bible.   I know it warns of false prophets, so I am skeptical more often than not.  I also do not begrudge the man making a living using his craft; however, I believe once he has made enough to sustain him and his family if he really has a gift he would do a lot more charity readings or use his gift for good.  I would also ask him why he doesn't help with crimes.  I can't live his life for him.  I can't know his crosses that he bears so I will not judge, but I do have a curiosity about it.  My general thoughts on Wednesday though are that I don't know that I saw anything that would lead me to believe in what he's doing or not.  I know if he's true or not that if he gives a little bit of peace to a grieving soul that this is all good with me. So do you believe?