Drip drip...

I learned to swim when I was around 6. I have swam in pools, ponds, rivers, lakes and oceans. I have no problem with large bodies of water no matter what size. I didn't think it really mattered how much water there was, if you know how to swim, you swim. You wouldn't drown unless something tragic happened. You swim in an ocean just like you swim in a swimming pool. 

However,  I have learned in my life  that there is a certain body of water that is just the right amount that could put you in danger of drowning if you aren't careful. Funny thing is, it's not very much water at all. A tiny little amount in relative terms. About the size of a tear. Or two...or three. 

The only body of water I have ever feared drowning in is the one made up of all the tears I have shed in my life and not just any tears, not the ones caused by others but the ones I have caused myself. Those are the most toxic and most likely to fill my lungs and drag me under into its suffocating swirling black depths. 

You would think I would keep that in mind, that toxic body of water, that grows deeper with every new drop I feed it. 

New Year 2014. Last one was damn rough...time for something a little different.

2012 was one of my worst years yet since I divorced. No lie. I made some very bad choices, burned some much needed bridges, and generally just set myself on a destructive course that nearly had me in the black for good. 2013 was mostly spent trying to do damage control with varying degrees of success depending on who you asked. If you ask me, I wouldn't mind forgetting 2012 all together and parts of 2013 can follow right along, thank you. 

However, I didn't die from any of those bad choices so I will assume that means I still have time to do better and be better. A work in progress. Good days and bad days rub shoulders and have me on that emotional roller coaster ride that never seems to have an end. I have cried a lot and laughed little. I have spent more times just sitting doing nothing other than beating myself up over all those bad choices that just kept coming rather than do something about them...but eventually I caught on and started doing something. Too little too late? As I said, I'm not dead yet so let's assume the answer is no. 

I seriously need to start writing again. I keep saying I will and then let things get in the way even though this empty space is running like a ticker tape through my head day and night. It begs to be filled and my fingers itch to fill it but my mind just gets in the way and makes excuses...never seem to run out of those. 

Anyhow, my one resolution, if I must, is to get back to writing. I need to fill the empty spaces with words that won't stop in my head until they are written down. I need to finish that story I started awhile back that some of you may remember and I need to figure out how to make my writing work for me because I stopped writing and I started spiraling. I see a connection yet I couldn't seem to stop it or fix it. My goal is to write at least one post a week, more if properly motivated. Whether my readers come back or not is immaterial...I always did write just for me but the positive feedback was always nice. 

So here I am, 2014. Not dead yet. Not out for the count. Long as I wake up every morning then I have been given another chance to do better than the day before. Let's see if I have enough sunrises left to undo the destructive sunsets that are behind me? 

Wish me luck. 

Just Let It Go

For those that use to read me regularly you may have noticed that I haven't written anything significant for quite some time. Writing is my Thing. It's what I do and I have always enjoyed it since I realized I do it rather well. However, this past year hasn't been My Year, so to speak. I've been in an up and down roller coaster ride that has had me either hanging on for dear life...or raising my hands in the air and enjoying the thrill. All this has resulted in one very troubling aspect in my life...I lost the desire to write.

Period.

It just left. No idea why...or really when but I realized at some point that I just had nothing to say anymore. Or maybe I felt my words had lost their ability to really convey what I was feeling or what I wanted to express. I have no idea but the end result was silence in the one area of my life I had always depended on to get my demons out...or my humor (I choose to call it that) or whatever was on my mind. Without being able to write...it has all been locked up inside me...and damned if I haven't suffered because of it.

I went down the rabbit hole more or less and apparently enjoyed it so much I decided to stay there for a spell. I have been down that hole before (my past made it a place I tend to visit from time to time) but I have always used my writing to pull me back out again. This time I did not have even that ability to rescue myself...so there I stayed.

Around the first part of this year I had a revelation of sorts. I was angry. Very angry. Angry at the people in my life (past and present) that have done things to me that turned me into a negative, pissed off person. Every day I was fuming about one thing or another. My temper, which use to be so hard to trigger, was now on a veritable trip wire. Anything could set me off...and I was a raging ball of fire. I was a seething mass of negative energy that ended up corrupting everything good in my life...because I was too angry to pay attention to the good things in my life.

I was letting my past ruin my present...and destroy whatever good my future held for me. I was allowing all that bullshit that was my past life...be the sum total of my present life. I was my past..and my past was me. When I realized that I was allowing those people, that are long gone from my life, to still be a part of it (taking up full time rent free space in my head) and therefore impacting and corrupting it...I knew I either accepted the rabbit hole as my forever dwelling...or fight my way out of it.

Everyone who reads (or did) about my life know that I have 5 kids. I had a blast with my kids while they were growing up. We were rarely apart for any reason and they were a close knit group of siblings. My kids are mostly all grown now. I have my youngest, 15 years old, at home still but the rest are off living their lives. The silence that is my house now weighs on me terribly. Gone are the sounds of the music they all played, the fighting or laughing...the messes they each generate in their way. This silence has fueled my anger in ways...because I had no distractions from that anger and could spend copious amounts of time nurturing it and feeding the flames. My children are the soul reason I survived my marriage. Having them in my life, knowing I needed to be there for them..meant I couldn't give up or give in. Even if I felt my life wasn't worthwhile or important, theirs was...and I had to make sure they knew it. Now they are gone (generally speaking) and Ive been alone with my thoughts, my inner demons, my anger issues...and that has meant I had little respite from the inner destruction that was going on.

As I said, I realized one day that I might as well still be married if I was going to wake up every day and spend my time, my precious time, living as if my ex was still a real and meaningful presence in my life. If my memories of the past were going to keep me company as I went about my daily routine, ruining whatever happiness I might gain from even the smallest of joys then why bother living. If the experiences I had while living in Bahrain for the first 20 years...were going to color and corrupt whatever came after that then what was the point of the divorce..of gaining my freedom...if I was still going to live as if I were a prisoner?

I realized that the only person that could save me from my anger and issues with my past...was ME. Once I realized this I set about on a course of emotional healing. I spend far too much of my time alone...but one thing that being alone affords me is time to think....and think... and think some more. At times I would lay in my bed, during my time off from work, and just think. I would do nothing else but think about my past, my anger issues and where they came from...and what I could do to change what I was becoming (or had become) into someone better. I would literally lay there for two days solid and just stare at the ceiling...going through every damn issue that had turned me into a person that others didn't want to be around (did I mention I have lost several "friends" this past year as well)...I thought it was them...but realized it must be me since it kept happening. I find it incredibly hard to make friends, went most of my whole life without really having any, so losing the ones I did have was like a confirmation to my already low self esteem that I'm not even worthy to remain friends with. If others can't stand me..what did that say about me?

I worked my way through issues that were like open wounds on my soul. I poked and prodded them and made them bleed out all that pent up corrosive blood until only fresh blood remained. As I dealt with each issue I would ask myself...why is this still making me so angry...and is it worth it still? Of course, most of the time (damn near every time) the answer was no. Anger and self loathing, low self esteem and feelings of unworthiness were not worth it. My past was what it was...I couldn't change that...but I could change today, tomorrow and whatever came after that. As I worked my way through each and every issue...the end result would be to Just Let It Go.

Like a balloon that yearned to be free and sail off into parts unknown...I released, one after the other, issue after issue that was weighing me down, corrupting my relationships, my goals, my life. As each balloon sailed away I felt myself become lighter inside. I started feeling something I hadn't felt in so long I wasn't even sure I was calling it by the right name.

I started feeling happy. (don't be as shocked as I was please)

Happiness is not a feeling I have really felt too often in my life...and when I say happy I mean more than just a fleeting moment of happiness that is more like a memory than a state of mind. It felt unfamiliar and alien at the beginning...almost like an impostor had set up residence after I kicked out the abusive squatters. I almost didn't know how to handle this new emotional state. I felt like a beginner at happiness..a noob that needed to feel my way around and learn the rules and tricks before really putting my all into the game.

Apparently the "new" me was attracting some attention. I have had people at work comment more than once that I always seemed to walk around with a scowl on my face (I'm sure I was as I always had some inner demon playing with my mind)..or that I looked like I wanted to punch someone. Now they were amazed to notice that I was smiling, whistling...even singing...while going about my work. I had a few people ask me if I was in love..had I found someone that had brought about this change. Well, first off, yes...I am in love, have been for years now, but that relationship was one of the ones I was busy destroying due to my anger issues and one I was desperately trying to save at that point....but the reasons for the smiling, whistling and singing was due to another person all together.

Me. I was happy....or working hard so that I knew it was coming. I could feel it...see it...taste it. As I worked my way though each issue...I finished with it..and then Just Let It Go. I could not possibly explain with adequate words the effect this had had on me emotionally. Yes of course I still get angry (more than I like still...a work in progress) and I know that to never get angry is just not possible...but when I trip up and fall into a full blown anger melt down, I mentally try as hard as I can to reign myself in and put a halt before it gets out of control. (again, not always successful but I'm far better at it then I used to be). I ask myself, will this matter in 5 minutes, ten...tomorrow...and of course it most likely won't. And when I realize this...I can almost  feel myself relax and feel the anger start to recede and dissipate. It has stopped my anger in its tracks most of the time...most, work in progress as I said.

I have reached a stage now where so many things that use to set me off (thoughts of my past, of Bahrain, of certain people) don't really affect me at all anymore. I can think about them without feeling that tightness in my chest that would be an indicator that rage was building. I can talk about them without gnashing my teeth or getting angry at the person I'm talking to because the person I'm really angry at isn't there. Those balloons have sailed...and I have never heard of a balloon that was set free...come back to its owner.

Now, if there was one set back to all this emotional healing...it's convincing others that it's actually taking place. People who know me, love me, are so used to Angry Red...that they are suspicious of New Red. For some reason they would rather believe that you can't change who you have always been even though those same people have been encouraging me for years to do exactly that. I have actually gotten into arguments (go figure) while trying to convince these same people that the changes are real, are reaping benefits and are permanent. I much prefer New Red to Angry Red...why would I go back to that...and why do those I love most keep insisting I do? I have no idea.

Anyhow, I have a lot more to say. That makes me happy just writing that as it means I have more writing to do...and I realize this post is not up to my usual standards but I felt the need to write and I haven't felt that in such a long time...I'm just putting it out there before the mood disappears. So you guys (if there are any readers left) get a rough copy and I'm sorry for that but it is what it is. 

A few topics I will write about are my two recent trips to Bahrain (yes...imagine that), my new status as Grandma (my granddaughter is amazing) and what the future might hold for me. I became friends again with my ex from high school and other topics that might be of interest.  Stay tuned...if you are interested. I know I am.

Oh mind of mine...

Being alone with my thoughts
What black chaos
What red pain

Filling my head with your sneaky ways
Devious pain filled images
Do you even care...oh mind of mine

Three little words on a screen
Causing doubt...hurt...regrets
Squeezing my heart

Wonder of wonders
It still functions...beats
Tho each one leaves me breathless

Choking my throat
Filling my eyes so I can't see
Squeezing...always squeezing

Oh mind of mine
You are not really my friend
Will you leave me too?

When someone who should love you....hurts you...

Most of my life I've only ever had a few people in it that I considered "loved" or "friends". My family consisted of my mother, two sisters, father and a brother that I've barely seen my whole life(extended family doesn't count here as my father rarely let us visit with them and they NEVER came to visit us). My circle of friends has always ALWAYS been very small due simply to the fact that, first my father then my husband, created an environment around me that only allowed a few friends in.

There was a time in my life when I was so lonely and isolated that I would accept virtually anyone that showed a half decent interest in me as a friend. Later I would realize it was half hearted and not worth pursuing, but desperation would keep me "chasing" after relationships that just weren't there. More out of the need for friendship then because I felt they were really interested in maintaining a relationship with me. This usually resulted in me being hurt in one way or another...but lessons learned aren't always learned easily.

Being married to my ex for so long and subject to his families ill treatment of me taught me one thing...it's far better to ignore such behavior then to react to it. It's far easier on the mind and heart to remove yourself from that situation then to stay right in the middle of it hoping it will change. Once someone has made it plain that the relationship You thought was there (or should be there)...or a relationship You thought was always going to be there...no longer interest them...then why stick around waiting for them to change their minds? Especially when they make it abundantly clear through their actions (though rumor spreading or hurtful words etc) that they are "done"?

This was a very slow lesson for me to learn. I had to be hurt by a lot of "friends" and in some cases, "family" before I learned this lesson well and good. Why should I pursue the relationship when they have made it clear they are done with it? Understand?

This lesson slammed home to me once and for all (and for good) the night I discovered what my oh so wonderful ex had been up to with our children. His subsequent reaction to "being caught" was one thing (and expected considering his past indifference to feelings of guilt) but the reaction from so called friends and family and a whole sale abandonment of those same friends and family came as a shock...and a hard lesson learned.

A relationship isn't always what YOU think it is..and it's true "depth" can be brought to light in a nanosecond...then all is laid open and the "truth" of it is there spotlighted under a very harsh and painful light.

It was during this painful insight...this harsh lesson learned...that I made a promise to myself. One I have stayed true too for the most part...I would no longer allow a "friend" or "family member" in my life that has made it abundantly clear their side of the relationship doesn't mean nearly as much to them as it does/did to me. I made/make this decision based on how they treat me, my kids, or those I hold dear. I realize not everyone gets along ALL the time so petty things and minor hurts and disagreements are not my "judging" criteria. Oh no, this person has to "really mean it"...and by that I mean go out of his or her way to hurt me, my kids, or someone I hold dear.

Now, I have lost some "friends" along the way this past few years. People who I considered friends but their behavior proved they were only in it for the short haul. Never mind, life goes on and I'm much better off without that drama in my life. My new motto, "no more drama", has served me pretty well (except for things I have no control over) and, for the most part, I don't look back.

I know I know, some of you are reading this thinking...damn, doesn't she give people a chance or what? People make mistakes, say shit, do things that hurt you etc so what's up with her? She isn't perfect either I damn well bet. Why so harsh and quick to jump ship?

I hear ya. And you would be right if your thinking that. I'm not perfect, nor do I wish to be. How boring that would be. However, I do make an effort to NOT hurt people on purpose...and if I do...I also make an effort to show remorse and apologize if possible.

Hurting on purpose is what I'm talking about here people. When YOU go out of your way to hurt someone you are supposed to love or be friends with on purpose...then YOU are showing through your actions that YOU no longer have a vested interest in maintaining that relationship anymore. Right? Otherwise, why cause the hurt...ON PURPOSE???

Those are the sorts of people that gotta go....no more drama remember? I've been hurt enough, my kids have been hurt enough, by so called "friends" and or "family". So, my promise to myself is...cut off relations with those sorts of people no matter WHO they are to me, or supposed to be anyhow.

Now, what this post boils down to is this. Someone extremely close to me (not saying who just now) has hurt me very deeply. I'm talking, came out of left field, no idea what the hell got into him/her, but this person deliberately and ON PURPOSE set out on a campaign to hurt me, and my kids, as much as possible.

And it worked. The knife in my heart barely has anything left to hold on to as what's left is shredded and weeping.

It hurt that bad.

And still hurts.

And will keep on hurting until I die...yes...that bad people.

And so, this person has been cut from my life full stop. No turning back. No chance for reconciliation...and the one reason that made up my mind is this. Once you have made up your mind to deliberately and ON PURPOSE hurt someone so bad and so deeply without a thought to the obvious consequences...then obviously your half of the relationship was over in your mind. I mean seriously, do people who do that sort of thing think an apology will suffice and things will go back to "normal"? Of course not. Never again. Trust is gone. If you can do it once you can do it again (which is why I wonder why spouses that have been cheated on think the cheater will never cheat again..if they can do it once they can do it again).

A friend of mine said, after hearing my story,.."Don't worry...after some time has passed you will call him/her. You get use to it".

You get use to it? I don't want to get use to it. I don't want to constantly worry that this person is "storing" everything I say or do as fodder for later attacks, or "plotting" to hurt me again on a whim. I don't want to have to worry that my heart has a knife over it just waiting to be pierced....again...and again...and again. Because if they did it once...they can do it again. No more drama remember?

Why would I want to "get used to that"?

So my question is people...do you believe in cutting people from your lives...people who are supposed to be friends and or family? Specially when they are very very close to you and to lose them in your life is a BIG thing...but in your mind a necessary thing? Can you do it? Should you do it?

Forgiving is one thing...forgetting is something else all together.

*sigh*

Where's a cop when you CALL one?

Working in this store has given me the opportunity to meet and get to know quite a variety of different people. Some are familiar favorites that I look forward to seeing each night and wonder where they are when I don't. Others are those that drop in once a week and spend a few minutes catching up. All in all MOST of the people that come through the store are regulars for the most part...with the few exceptions...those that are travelling through and stopping to freshen and gas up...and those that have come to specifically to rob the store.

Last night 3 such people showed up at the store while I was there alone.

In life we are all afraid of something. If it be heights, sharks, spiders, or elevators..whatever it is we are affected the same way. Fear takes over and coherent thoughts vanish. Somethings you don't even know your afraid until your faced with it. Last night I was faced with the very real fear that my children could be left orphans...without even one parent to care for them and love them and be there for them. Last night I was forced to face the fact that Tomorrow Is Promised To No One.

In the 6 months Ive been working in this store Ive had to deal with a few customers that got my radar going and heartbeat skipping just a little more than usual. Not for anything he did specifically to ME, just the way he (so far its always been a he) acted while moving about the store etc. Up until last night all those fears were groundless and the shift continued without incident. Last night fleeting thoughts of whether or not I was going to be able to finish my shift and go home to my kids skittered through my mind as I faced these 3 men who had come to impact my life in ways they apparently could careless about. During that 20 min they were in the store...my heart thundered so hard in my chest I felt it would actually burst out of it...my throat closed up so that I was unable to swallow..if there had been any spit to swallow...and my mind was a blur of thoughts skating across the surface of my fear like lightening bugs...quick and hot.

I don't want to go into too much detail about what went on simply because it still freaks me out to think about it...suffice to say...I don't wish to repeat the experience under any circumstances. When I finally got the chance to call the police I felt help was close at hand and that helped calm me down and let me focus on what I was telling the dispatcher...details of them and the car etc...so when they ran out the door the relief I felt very nearly caused me to collapse. I guess that was when I let out the breath I had been seemingly holding forever.

NOW, imagine my surprise and eventual anger at the fact that the cops NEVER showed up. Nope. Spent the rest of the shift looking over my shoulder, expecting the worst and waiting anxiously for the cops to show up. Never happened.

Serve and Protect my ass.

IF that wasn't the bad enough people...check this out. THOSE SAME 3 MEN CAME BACK TO THE STORE TONIGHT TO ROB IT AGAIN!!!

I know right. How lucky am I??? *sigh*

This time I didn't waste time calling the police. This time they actually came. This time the men were caught down the street and arrested. This time my heart took less time to slow down and anger took its place.

The simple fact people is that I could have died last night. Cops didn't come so I could have lain on the floor until some customer came or the morning shift showed up. I could have lain there while my kids waited for me at home wondering where I was. I could have...but I didn't.

Tonight had a better outcome by far but I still felt fear....and for that I'm so damn pissed off I cant even think straight. I'm so sick to death of people coming into my life intent on hurting me in some way. Some of those people were supposed to love me..some of those people hated me...and now some of those people don't even know me and couldn't care less how they affected my life at all but were quite happy to do so anyways.

I'm so angry. I feel so helpless. I want to hurt something back. I want to scream and cry and break things into lots of pieces. I want to rage at everything...and nothing.

I'm so angry. On top of the anger Ive been living with this past few years..this could be my undoing people. When does the shit end for gods sake? Is is possible to live your life as well as you can, doing the best you can, without a man (or 3) coming along to fuck you up in some way?

Is it?

Some Things Just Cant be Forgotten...pt 1

*I wont put any pics with this post cause seriously...I don't know what sort of pics to put....endure!!!


I realize with 24 hour news service that we are likely to see a dead body or two (or three or four) displayed for our voyeuristic pleasure...if that's the sort of pleasure you're into. Open any newspaper and what ever war is currently going on in the world will have casualties...and casualty pics always sell newspapers.


Bombs go off and torn bodies are scattered like so much confetti across the roads and throughout market places from one side of the globe to the other. The walking wounded holding their bleeding heads or torn appendages with dazed looks shattering their faces...we can turn the channels but there is always another inhumane vision awaiting us. It seems you cant escape mans inhumanity to man even if its your most ardent wish. Death follows us...in more ways then one.


Now, viewing death from the relative safety of our living rooms might give us a moments hesitation in the routine of our day...might make us pause and give thoughts of sympathy or outrage to whatever or whomever it was that caused the latest carnage...but for the most part...that moment is fleeting and we sigh and turn the channel...and get on with the process of living. Death is for the dead after all.



Now and then though we cant merely turn the channel because death decides to visit us....rudely intrudes into our safety bubble and makes its very real presence known...possibly a family member passes...a car crashes in front of us and its occupants are thrown into the road...a pedestrian is run over and laid out on the side of the road as we pass...flashing lights and rubber necking passer byes all that signal that life has passed. For many of us....an insistent need to crane our necks to get a fleeting look at a lifeless body is hard to explain...possibly we are secretly happy that WE are not the ones laid out for all and sundry to view with carnivorous delight...that we can drive on home to our dinners and families and forget the whole idea of death...for the moment. No need to go looking for death when we are fully aware, but try to ignore the fact, that death is constantly on the lookout for us.


I personally have had only two experiences with seeing a "real live" dead person (no pun intended). Both left me devastated and reeling....crying and emotionally torn apart...exhausted afterwards with the constant barrage of images that wouldn't leave the up heaved surface of my mind. The ironic thing about these bodies is that they didn't actually look dead...as much as asleep. One was an older man that had passed away after a heart attack...the other was a baby. Listen up...


When I was 14 years old my mothers best friend's father passed away from a heart attack...as I mentioned. I had never met this man before...knew nothing about him...but apparently my mother felt I should accompany her to his funeral. An open casket funeral. I was petrified. I had visions of horribly mangled bodies and blood everywhere....horror movie stuff for sure. I begged her not to make me go but she insisted that everyone should attend at least ONE funeral in their lives...make you appreciate living more....or so was her excuse. I wasn't buying it...I was a teenager remember...I was going to live forever. Death would NOT dare come intrude upon my life (unless it was me shooting my father...but that's a different story). Of course I went...who can say no to their mothers?


We arrive at the funeral and everyone is sitting already while the Priest? Father? I'm not sure really...my first funeral and all...was giving the eulogy (possibly). I might add that this family's native tongue was Spanish...and thus...not only was I out of my comfort zone physically....I had no idea what anyone was saying for the most part. Added to my emotionally confused state I might add.


Thanks Mom.


After the eulogy everyone stood in a line moving towards the front of the church. I was not quite aware at that point what we were all shuffling our feet towards...remember...I had never been to a funeral...I figured we were lining up to meet the family...give our condolences and move on.


We were actually...sort of.


As we neared the front of the line I heard a deep moaning sound that made the blood in my body absolutely freeze...like a wounded animal keening from some dark place in the woods. The moan grew in intensity until it was more of a wail...and I was absolutely sure at that moment that I definitely DID NOT want to confront whatever was making that heart rending sound. My mother would not allow me to go sit in the car and wait for her...I still remember that Mom.


I finally reach the front of the line and I'm faced with two things. An open coffin with a dead man who could be sleeping lying in it....and a large Mexican woman wailing and beating her chest...and holding out her arms to me in anticipation for the hug of condolence I'm meant to give her. WTF!!!


She had copious tears flooding her face making rivers of misery that dripped from her chin like a tiny rainstorm. She wailed in Spanish of which I understood not a single word...but could understand the meaning of none the less...she had lost her mate...her love....her partner....she was alone now...and none of us want to be alone in the life.


Despite not knowing this woman...despite not understanding a single word she said...despite never having anyone I personally know die in my lifetime...despite not knowing the man who lay there "sleeping"...and despite wishing I was anywhere but there....I ran into her needful open arms and cried right along with her. While enveloped in her bear of a hug, pouring out words of condolence of which I cant remember a single word of...she continued to wail and I felt as I were coming apart. Touched by her abject misery that seeped into my skin and invaded my bones...my tissue...my heart...until all hopes of ever experiencing happiness again in my life was like a lost dream of impossibility.


The whole experience lasted only moments until she opened her arms allowing me to move away so she could embrace the next in line...my mother. Shaken I moved forward and came face to face with the coffin...with a man that lay sleeping yet would never ever wake up. There was no blood...no broken bones...nothing to indicate that life was violently snuffed from this body and not taken softly and with little fanfare. He died in his sleep....not even his wife, who slept beside him, knew of his death until she tried to wake him in the morning. It seemed so unfair that this man could lie there looking for all the world as if he would open his eyes at any moment, sit up in this coffin with a confused look in his eye...and ask those gathered for whom or what were they gathered...for he had been merely taking a nap and all was well.


Life taken so easily and quietly absolutely horrified me. Ive never been able to fall into sleep with quite the same blase' attitude since that funeral. Always wondering if I myself might "wake up" to find myself in a coffin someday...having been taken by death...stealthily sneaking in upon me while I slept....perhaps dreaming of tomorrows hopes and dreams. It was soooo freakin UNFAIR...I was completely overcome by anger at that point and seethed...holding back my thoughts until my mother was finished and we left the church.


While still crossing the street to her car I finally unlocked my tongue and shouted at her without remorse...."I hope you die long after me mom cause I will NEVER go to your funeral. I will NEVER go to ANOTHER FREAKIN FUNERAL AS LONG AS I LIVE....!!!!!"


She remained quiet until we got in the car and had sat there for a few moments. My chest was heaving as I fought to control my tears of fear and trepidation...I realized that I was fearful of the day I would have to face my mothers body lying in a casket...to view her with no expectations of eyes opening and that smile of hers I loved so well. That twinkling look that always shined from her coffee brown eyes. Knowing the life my father forced us into....the constant barrage of physical abuse we endured...I had a deep fear that she would never end up lying in a coffin looking for all the world as if she were asleep. He wouldn't allow such a peaceful sort of death to claim her...of that I was sure. If there was ever a body to bury in the first place that is as I secretly believed I would come home from school some day only to be told my mother had decided she didn't want to be our mother anymore and so had "abandoned" us...never to be seen again.


I lived with that fear of my mother "leaving us" under mysterious circumstances everyday of my childhood. Attending that funeral made it all so much more real for me of the possibility that I would and could lose my mother...while she "slept" beside my father. I was devastated and hated her a little bit for forcing me to go and experience that devastating and horrible fact.


She looked at me and told me that I already knew life wasn't pleasant but because we had faith we could feel joy for that man who had passed....because he had left behind all earthly sorrows and was with our Father in Heaven now. That was the the only thing we should focus on ...that he had moved on from this life onto the next...and I should be happy for him. As if.


It took me quite along time to get over that funeral.....as a matter of fact the image of him lying there has never left me....the image of his wife wailing and opening her arms to me has never left....white hot anger I felt at my mother has dimmed but has never truly left me. I might understand her motives at this advanced age...but still cant forgive her taking me unprepared and completely against my will. I can't imagine ever doing the same to my own children...but then again....in this culture viewing the body at a funeral is not really an option. Anyways...


*to be continued