Just over a year ago Bill and I bought a C.O.W. which stands for a Condo on Wheels. To the rest of the world we bought a travel trailer. We'd always wanted one. Well, I'm going with an overstatment there. I always wanted one, Bill would have been happy with a pop-up. It is 33 feet long, we had to buy a bigger truck to pull it, and we imagined fun-filled family vacations and weekend getaways in it. My sister is the biggest cheerleader of these things. They've owned all shapes and sizes of them and have had nothing but fun, good times, and memories in their's.
Our's is made by a company called Rockwood, but I like to think of them as Rocksinthehead. Because my trailer was apparently built by a company that doesn't have any brains.
So, on to the dream vacation. We left last Saturday. It was just the two of us. You see, our family quickly learned to hate the trailer. They are weird anyway because they all hate the beach. They're bored there, it's hot, they hate sand, can't stand the ocean...well, you get the picture. So now that our older daughter is living with us, we left everyone behind and embarked on an 8 day beach vacation. We planned this like a couple of kids trying to pull one over on their parents. We bought $75.00 in steak and were eating them hot off the grill every night except when we went to our favorite restaurant. We took our favorite DVD's, lots of wine, our hammock and our pink flamingo lights. Paradise!
Our dream vacation ended on I95 when, while driving 50 miles an hour, a car pulls alongside us and yells "Your wheel is getting ready to fall off." You see, here is a culmination of all the horrors we've had in our brand new trailer made by the Rocksinthehead Company. This thing has had something go wrong everytime we've taken it out. Every trip we've had has ended with us in the service department. Airconditioner, brakes, leaks, bearings, you name it, it's been Bill's nightmare.
We were 120 miles from our destination, but after a long 16 hour day in the broiling sun, our trailer now sits in a warehouse parking lot in Wilson, N.C., waiting for the axle manufacturer to make us a new axle because they don't stock them, it's too new a trailer.
Dehydrated, stinky, and dejected, we made our way home. Bill had to cancel his vacation leave and go back to work. But at least no one was hurt, right? I hate that statement. I'm not one of those "Things could be worse, so appreciate the crap you're dealing with" people. On Tuesday my air conditioner at home broke on the hottest day this summer. My dryer died (not really, it was an electrical circuit, but I didn't have that answer till after I paid the service call fee). Plus a million other things I wouldn't have had to deal with if I'd been in Myrtle Beach like I was suppose to be.
Part of being a grown up is dealing with the things life throws at you. Roll with it, get up and try again, keep on keeping on, every dark cloud has a silver lining, sell your trailer and admit camping sucks, whoops! Didn't mean to put that one in. :)
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Summer boating......fun right?
Okay, so we have a boat. We've only used it once this year. There are alot of rules to when we get to go out. Bill will not boat on the weekends. Too crowded. No Sundays allowed, it's the Lord's Day. No holidays, everyone else will be out with their boat. So, that leaves Monday, his day off. We've been going in the evenings, since it's cooler, but this year, it seems like every Monday evening there is a storm looming just over the horizon. So this week we decided to go out on Monday morning. We'd get up early, because the early bird gets the worm, perhaps in this case, the worm would be on the end of his fishing line and the bass would get it first.
So, I'm not a morning person, but I can rise to the occasion. We were on our way around 8:30am. A little late for a day that was going to hit 90 degrees, but it still felt nice outside. The water was beautiful, the sky was clear, there was a slight breeze and the sun was a FIREBALL in the sky.
By 10:00am Bill was fishing away and I was on the back of the boat on my beach chair reading a really good book. Life is good. It was a little hot, but it's August. By 10:30am I ditched the chair and spread out on the floor on the back of the boat on my stomach. That way the sun wasn't hitting me directly in the face and I could feel alittle bit cooler. The book was still really good and every once in a while I'd catch a breeze.
By 11:00am I asked Bill for a bottle of water. I proceeded to pour it over my head to put out the fire. I also poured some down my shirt and on my legs. I was sweating like the second stage of labor. I laid on my back and put a towel over my head to block the sun. Forget the good book, I can't remember the storyline anymore. All I can think about is I'm naming the boat Hellfire and Brimstone, and wonder how long it takes to drown once you go overboard. The water has bacteria in it and you are not suppose to swim in it, but that shouldn't matter if you are ending your life. I thought about all the settlers who came to the new land in the winter and how I always thought they were stupid to travel so late in the year. Now I understood the purpose. I was HOT, PEOPLE, HOTTT!
Bill was having a pretty good day fishing and at one point wanted me take a pic of his latest catch. The camera was two feet away, but all I could manage was the cellphone in my pocket. He didn't seem to notice I was near heat stroke, and could someone please call 911 or throw me overboard!
By noon we were back to shore, (Thankfully!!!!!) and on our way home. I jumped in the pool, dried off, took two valium and slept till 6:00pm.
I'll go again during sweater weather.
So, I'm not a morning person, but I can rise to the occasion. We were on our way around 8:30am. A little late for a day that was going to hit 90 degrees, but it still felt nice outside. The water was beautiful, the sky was clear, there was a slight breeze and the sun was a FIREBALL in the sky.
By 10:00am Bill was fishing away and I was on the back of the boat on my beach chair reading a really good book. Life is good. It was a little hot, but it's August. By 10:30am I ditched the chair and spread out on the floor on the back of the boat on my stomach. That way the sun wasn't hitting me directly in the face and I could feel alittle bit cooler. The book was still really good and every once in a while I'd catch a breeze.
By 11:00am I asked Bill for a bottle of water. I proceeded to pour it over my head to put out the fire. I also poured some down my shirt and on my legs. I was sweating like the second stage of labor. I laid on my back and put a towel over my head to block the sun. Forget the good book, I can't remember the storyline anymore. All I can think about is I'm naming the boat Hellfire and Brimstone, and wonder how long it takes to drown once you go overboard. The water has bacteria in it and you are not suppose to swim in it, but that shouldn't matter if you are ending your life. I thought about all the settlers who came to the new land in the winter and how I always thought they were stupid to travel so late in the year. Now I understood the purpose. I was HOT, PEOPLE, HOTTT!
Bill was having a pretty good day fishing and at one point wanted me take a pic of his latest catch. The camera was two feet away, but all I could manage was the cellphone in my pocket. He didn't seem to notice I was near heat stroke, and could someone please call 911 or throw me overboard!
By noon we were back to shore, (Thankfully!!!!!) and on our way home. I jumped in the pool, dried off, took two valium and slept till 6:00pm.
I'll go again during sweater weather.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
The life of Neda Agha-Soltan
Ah, now most people will wonder who the heck is this woman? I know I did at first. That was before I watched a video of her dying moments. She was a 27 year old Iranian woman who studied Islamic philosophy. She was a talented singer. She also was upset at the results of the election in Iran. For two weeks there have been cries of a rigged election, and Mousivir's people have been in the streets protesting against their government. The Ayatollah, who called the election and declared Ahkmadinajahed the winner, also called for the oppression of the people's protests. He warned there would be blood.................................and so there was...........Neda's for one.
She attended a demonstration and was in her car to go home. There was a traffic jam so she got out of her car and was immediately shot to death, without provocation, by a member of the police force.
She fell back onto the street, stunned. Several men came to her aid and she turns her eyes to see something off to the side. Seconds later blood begins to pour out of her mouth, nose, and even pools into her eye. She was gone.
Do we even realize how precious the freedom to disagree with your government is? We've had it all our lives. None of us living here remembers the tyranny of Great Britain. People have come to the states from all over the world to a country where they feel safe. Safe from what? Government rulers. Those above you telling you where to live, where to work, where your doctor is, where your school is. Telling you what you are allowed to read, watch, and listen to.
Remember Neda. Her death is at our back door and it's getting ready to knock. The Great Nanny State is rising to take care of us all as It sees fit. It might sound like good change in the beginning, but you haven't paid the price for it yet. Ask immigrants how big a price you have to pay.
We are going to have our own Neda's soon. People who will finally wake up and refuse to lose anymore control over their country. Refuse to work to subsidize a multitude of programs for which half the country uses but doesn't pay for. Americans are going to stand up one day soon and resist.....and there will be blood......Freedom always requires it. Freedom is always worth it.
The United States of America-Government For the People-By the People
Time for the People to quit complaining, shaking their heads and wondering what's going to happen next. We need to kick out most members of Congress and get new leaders who work for us, not big corporations, special interest groups, or worse, for themselves. We need men and women of real integrity and honesty in office that will put a stop to the spending, programs, and personal interests.
Because the fiddler will come to play, and he will demand his pay......and we don't have the money to pay.......we will start to get hungry, healthcare will be a clinic with long lines and little medicine, jobs will be a thing of the past, inflation will be out of control because of all the money in circulation with no gold to back it, gas will be over $7.00 a gallon, milk even higher. Finally, because of high taxes, you can't keep a roof over your head, and your family is suffering from an out of control rogue government who forgot who they worked for..........Then Neda, and thousands like her will descend on Washington, D.C. to demand change. The National Guard will be called out to put a stop to civil unrest.....and another Neda will be lying in the street, bleeding and dying.
OR, we could go to the polls, having already researched and learned all we could about the candidates. Then we could vote for the ones who most closely value those things we do. Vote for candidates whose ideas are feasible, in the budget, and not something just a few people want. Give most of the power back to the states where it belongs. Oh, and let's make sure they are actually qualified for the office they wish to represent.
It's almost time to act....get ready.
She attended a demonstration and was in her car to go home. There was a traffic jam so she got out of her car and was immediately shot to death, without provocation, by a member of the police force.
She fell back onto the street, stunned. Several men came to her aid and she turns her eyes to see something off to the side. Seconds later blood begins to pour out of her mouth, nose, and even pools into her eye. She was gone.
Do we even realize how precious the freedom to disagree with your government is? We've had it all our lives. None of us living here remembers the tyranny of Great Britain. People have come to the states from all over the world to a country where they feel safe. Safe from what? Government rulers. Those above you telling you where to live, where to work, where your doctor is, where your school is. Telling you what you are allowed to read, watch, and listen to.
Remember Neda. Her death is at our back door and it's getting ready to knock. The Great Nanny State is rising to take care of us all as It sees fit. It might sound like good change in the beginning, but you haven't paid the price for it yet. Ask immigrants how big a price you have to pay.
We are going to have our own Neda's soon. People who will finally wake up and refuse to lose anymore control over their country. Refuse to work to subsidize a multitude of programs for which half the country uses but doesn't pay for. Americans are going to stand up one day soon and resist.....and there will be blood......Freedom always requires it. Freedom is always worth it.
The United States of America-Government For the People-By the People
Time for the People to quit complaining, shaking their heads and wondering what's going to happen next. We need to kick out most members of Congress and get new leaders who work for us, not big corporations, special interest groups, or worse, for themselves. We need men and women of real integrity and honesty in office that will put a stop to the spending, programs, and personal interests.
Because the fiddler will come to play, and he will demand his pay......and we don't have the money to pay.......we will start to get hungry, healthcare will be a clinic with long lines and little medicine, jobs will be a thing of the past, inflation will be out of control because of all the money in circulation with no gold to back it, gas will be over $7.00 a gallon, milk even higher. Finally, because of high taxes, you can't keep a roof over your head, and your family is suffering from an out of control rogue government who forgot who they worked for..........Then Neda, and thousands like her will descend on Washington, D.C. to demand change. The National Guard will be called out to put a stop to civil unrest.....and another Neda will be lying in the street, bleeding and dying.
OR, we could go to the polls, having already researched and learned all we could about the candidates. Then we could vote for the ones who most closely value those things we do. Vote for candidates whose ideas are feasible, in the budget, and not something just a few people want. Give most of the power back to the states where it belongs. Oh, and let's make sure they are actually qualified for the office they wish to represent.
It's almost time to act....get ready.
The People Mourn for Michael Jackson
It's been one week since the death of Michael Jackson. Many ordinary people have expressed their grief over his death and the impact he had on their life. Many celebrities have gone on record expressing their heartfelt grief, while also recalling the last time he was with them personally. Even politicians have weighed in on the matter. It's been said that "Michael Jackson was a black man that WE shared with the rest of the world."
Are you freaking kidding me?
Okay, first, let me say that I loved "Thriller." It was a great album, and with the 1980's advent of MTV, his videos were amazing. We hadn't seen Michael since the Jackson 5 days and he was all grown up, and although some of his dance moves were rather risque for the times, he was extremely talented. I think almost everyone has a favorite Michael Jackson song.
But, then there was the weird face transformation. Now stars can be excentric, but who actually completely changes their face to look like someone else? And not just anyone, but the one person they admired most, namely, Diana Ross. Then there was the skin bleaching. He may have been born a black man, but there was nothing black about him when he died. He was whiter than me. He may have had a condition called vitiligo, but still there was alot of bleaching going on. Look at him in 1983, then look at him twenty years later, and he was a freak of his formal self.
Now, although it will take a month for toxicology reports to come in, most everyone agrees that Jackson was an addict. Painkillers, sedatives, antidepressants, he took them all. He was deeply in debt, he'd nearly lost his beloved Neverland Ranch, his reputation was in the toilet and had been for years. At best he was totally weird, at worst, he was a pedophile.
While he was acquitted in a court of law of child abuse charges, he was convicted in the court of public opinion. There were no new records, no concerts, no political affiliations for Jackson. Did you see him in the last ten years do anything but walk down a street or sit in a car with a mask or veil over his face?
What about his three children? Their mother completely disappeared after the daughter was born, and the third child, a son called "Blanket" or Prince Michael II, does not even have a mother named on his birth certificate.
So, I say all this to wonder, outloud, what are the people mourning? Is it who he was in the 1980's, a talented young man? Or is it the young boy who had an overbearing father who terrorized him and took advantage of the talent his children were born with? It can't possibly be the Michael Jackson who existed in the decade preceding his death. The same public who are now mourning him, would not have bought tickets to his concerts or bought his music. Are our memories so short, that no matter what you do, you will be remembered fondly if enough people say you were great? Is it because he was black and therefore, no wrongs can be charged permanently to him in the Age of Obama?
He was preparing for a comeback. He had concerts booked in Europe hoping to redeem his reputation, and no doubt, earn some money. But he never got the chance. Last Thursday, he stepped out into eternity. Never again will he sing or dance here, but he did face an Almighty God. He was judged in the only "court" that really matters. He will now spend all of eternity at his final destination, which is up to God, and not anyone else.
Was he ready to meet God last Thursday? Are you ready to meet him today?
Are you freaking kidding me?
Okay, first, let me say that I loved "Thriller." It was a great album, and with the 1980's advent of MTV, his videos were amazing. We hadn't seen Michael since the Jackson 5 days and he was all grown up, and although some of his dance moves were rather risque for the times, he was extremely talented. I think almost everyone has a favorite Michael Jackson song.
But, then there was the weird face transformation. Now stars can be excentric, but who actually completely changes their face to look like someone else? And not just anyone, but the one person they admired most, namely, Diana Ross. Then there was the skin bleaching. He may have been born a black man, but there was nothing black about him when he died. He was whiter than me. He may have had a condition called vitiligo, but still there was alot of bleaching going on. Look at him in 1983, then look at him twenty years later, and he was a freak of his formal self.
Now, although it will take a month for toxicology reports to come in, most everyone agrees that Jackson was an addict. Painkillers, sedatives, antidepressants, he took them all. He was deeply in debt, he'd nearly lost his beloved Neverland Ranch, his reputation was in the toilet and had been for years. At best he was totally weird, at worst, he was a pedophile.
While he was acquitted in a court of law of child abuse charges, he was convicted in the court of public opinion. There were no new records, no concerts, no political affiliations for Jackson. Did you see him in the last ten years do anything but walk down a street or sit in a car with a mask or veil over his face?
What about his three children? Their mother completely disappeared after the daughter was born, and the third child, a son called "Blanket" or Prince Michael II, does not even have a mother named on his birth certificate.
So, I say all this to wonder, outloud, what are the people mourning? Is it who he was in the 1980's, a talented young man? Or is it the young boy who had an overbearing father who terrorized him and took advantage of the talent his children were born with? It can't possibly be the Michael Jackson who existed in the decade preceding his death. The same public who are now mourning him, would not have bought tickets to his concerts or bought his music. Are our memories so short, that no matter what you do, you will be remembered fondly if enough people say you were great? Is it because he was black and therefore, no wrongs can be charged permanently to him in the Age of Obama?
He was preparing for a comeback. He had concerts booked in Europe hoping to redeem his reputation, and no doubt, earn some money. But he never got the chance. Last Thursday, he stepped out into eternity. Never again will he sing or dance here, but he did face an Almighty God. He was judged in the only "court" that really matters. He will now spend all of eternity at his final destination, which is up to God, and not anyone else.
Was he ready to meet God last Thursday? Are you ready to meet him today?
Thursday, June 25, 2009
30th Wedding Anniversery
I cannot believe it has been so long since I've posted. You'd think I didn't have anything going on worth writing about.
But, I actually do have something worth a few words. It was Bill and mine's 30th wedding anniversery on June 16th. Thirty years with the same person is hard to believe. First of all, I can't believe I'm old enough to be married for 30 years. Isn't that like a really old person? My parents, for example?
That leads me to my next paragraph. I am someone's parent. Several someones' actually. My daughters threw us a 30th anniversery party. I did not have a clue they had planned it. It was a hawaiian luau themed gig. It was well planned, the decorations were great, the food was fantastic, the company, wonderful.
But, what was really being celebrated? Was it the duty of daughters to throw their parents a party for 30 years of togetherness, or was it an actual celebration of 30 years of being married? Thinking about it, I've realized how rare it is to find a married couple who have stayed married for 30 years. That shows commitment, faithfulness, and in our case, love. We tried our best to give our children a stable home, security, and family. That's not so easy to come by these days. Marriage is so expendable these days. Sometimes you do marry a person completely wrong for you. Most times, however, it's simply about happiness. If you are not happy, you divorce. We are a throwaway society after all. If it doesn't work, get rid of it!
So, what is the secret of a long marriage? Am I qualified to say? Perhaps.....I think the secret is to commit to the relationship, regardless of the obstacles you might face. Is it easy? Never. There are times you just want OUT! But, in the building of a family, it's important to be a united front, always being the stable force that can be counted on for wisdom, love, and security.
How pat that sounds. So, the real secret? God....He is the only one way you can love someone who is so clearly flawed you cannot believe you married him (her) in the first place.
Also, jewelry helps. My husband gifted me with a one carat diamond ring on our anniversery. I did not expect it and it was truly from his heart. That means alot and I will always treasure it. He is not one who gives expensive gifts freely. It is something I've wanted for a long time and it means alot to me.
What my daughters did in giving a party to us is gift us with their time, planning, and love. They showed us, freely, how much they value all we've given and done for them. They invited our friends to share in the experience, and showed how "proper" they were raised when they did such a spectacular job with the party. It is a memory I will always treasure and I thank them from the bottom of my heart for giving it to me.
Finally, a little wine helps to smooth out all the edges in a relationship. After a glass or two, you will find you are truly married to Prince Charming!
But, I actually do have something worth a few words. It was Bill and mine's 30th wedding anniversery on June 16th. Thirty years with the same person is hard to believe. First of all, I can't believe I'm old enough to be married for 30 years. Isn't that like a really old person? My parents, for example?
That leads me to my next paragraph. I am someone's parent. Several someones' actually. My daughters threw us a 30th anniversery party. I did not have a clue they had planned it. It was a hawaiian luau themed gig. It was well planned, the decorations were great, the food was fantastic, the company, wonderful.
But, what was really being celebrated? Was it the duty of daughters to throw their parents a party for 30 years of togetherness, or was it an actual celebration of 30 years of being married? Thinking about it, I've realized how rare it is to find a married couple who have stayed married for 30 years. That shows commitment, faithfulness, and in our case, love. We tried our best to give our children a stable home, security, and family. That's not so easy to come by these days. Marriage is so expendable these days. Sometimes you do marry a person completely wrong for you. Most times, however, it's simply about happiness. If you are not happy, you divorce. We are a throwaway society after all. If it doesn't work, get rid of it!
So, what is the secret of a long marriage? Am I qualified to say? Perhaps.....I think the secret is to commit to the relationship, regardless of the obstacles you might face. Is it easy? Never. There are times you just want OUT! But, in the building of a family, it's important to be a united front, always being the stable force that can be counted on for wisdom, love, and security.
How pat that sounds. So, the real secret? God....He is the only one way you can love someone who is so clearly flawed you cannot believe you married him (her) in the first place.
Also, jewelry helps. My husband gifted me with a one carat diamond ring on our anniversery. I did not expect it and it was truly from his heart. That means alot and I will always treasure it. He is not one who gives expensive gifts freely. It is something I've wanted for a long time and it means alot to me.
What my daughters did in giving a party to us is gift us with their time, planning, and love. They showed us, freely, how much they value all we've given and done for them. They invited our friends to share in the experience, and showed how "proper" they were raised when they did such a spectacular job with the party. It is a memory I will always treasure and I thank them from the bottom of my heart for giving it to me.
Finally, a little wine helps to smooth out all the edges in a relationship. After a glass or two, you will find you are truly married to Prince Charming!
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Oh, My Aching Back!
Well, I never thought I'd blog about a back ache, but some pains are just too big to not share. I bent over on Monday to pick up a piece of trash and have been in pain ever since. In retrospect, I should have just left the piece of trash on the ground. It was a little sugar subsitute packet that holds a teaspoon of sweetner. It was raining. It was stuck to the driveway. If I had driven away, it probably would have stuck to my tire.
So, onto the pain. It's big and all consuming. It's across my lower back and goes down into my legs. If I sit down too fast I scream. I can no longer bend over. I went to the doctor's yesterday and received 12 injections into the ligaments to reduce swelling. I was given some painkillers that really do work. I actually thought I was healed yesterday evening about an hour after taking them. I was taken back to reality the following morning when I tried to get out of bed.
I don't know if my back is going bad, if I'm getting old, or if I'm extremely out of shape. But I do know that a piece of trash, one square inch in size, can sit on my driveway for all of time, from this day forward.
So, onto the pain. It's big and all consuming. It's across my lower back and goes down into my legs. If I sit down too fast I scream. I can no longer bend over. I went to the doctor's yesterday and received 12 injections into the ligaments to reduce swelling. I was given some painkillers that really do work. I actually thought I was healed yesterday evening about an hour after taking them. I was taken back to reality the following morning when I tried to get out of bed.
I don't know if my back is going bad, if I'm getting old, or if I'm extremely out of shape. But I do know that a piece of trash, one square inch in size, can sit on my driveway for all of time, from this day forward.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Sometimes life really hurts
I haven't written in a while, and not sure I should write now. But what is a blog for if I can't update on what's going on in my life. First, I seem to be heading into another depression. I'll have to manage this one and try some things before I get the doctor involved. It's always kind of tricky as sometimes they make it worse. I know I should be exercising which does help. I've been sick for over three weeks with a flu/upper respiratory infection which really kicked my butt. I think I'm ready just in time for allergy season.
My 18 year old daughter who is not finished high school has left home to live with her boyfriend. She got a tongue piercing, which I hate and we let her know, no piercings of the tongue were allowed in the house. So, under cover of darkness, she went out the back door with her possessions. No goodbye, no note, nothing. Just left, like I was a landlord she owed rent to and she was skipping out. Even posted on Facebook 'Hello Freedom" before we even knew she was gone. Later she posted Partttty to let everyone know what a grand old time she was having.
I realize she's 18 and they are notoriously self centered and self involved. But does she lie in bed at night and wonder what our reactions were to finding out she was gone? Perhaps I should have taken a picture of her father's broken heartened expression that morning and posted it under her freedom status. She likened living here to being in jail. Unbelieveable. Very clueless to what jail is like, hopefully she'll never have opportunity to make that comparison.
So where is the book or wisdom that helps me get what feels like a piece of carpet out of my throat. I can't breathe. I feel rage, despair, intense physical pain, and depression all at the same time. Why do children not care that they hurt you? Why do they think you deserve what they dish out? How could everything that is done for someone's good, done so that they become successful members of society, be turned around and suddenly I'm the bad guy because she doesn't get something she wants. She already has a facial piercing and a tattoo, so we're not totally inflexible here.
As she curls up in bed with her boyfriend tonight, minus the high school diploma she'll never earn, does she reflect on her life, and that, just maybe ,we had a plan for her? That based on our wisdom and years, it was a doable one. Granted it didn't include living with her boyfriend, but there were alot of good points to it.
You see, like most parents, we wanted to see her succeed. To make something out of her life. To get an education, a job she enjoyed and felt pride in doing, find a good man, who would make a wonderful father, marry him, and have children. There's nothing grand about it, but it's a good life. You work hard, pay your bills, raise good kids, hold your head up high.
I cannot raise my head up high. She doesn't care about that. She wouldn't waste one minute's worry on that. Not until it happens to her. Because.....and this is what I don't get.....my daughter doesn't care what I feel. It either makes her laugh, or makes her mad, but not one of my feelings are legitimate. Pregnancy, birth, feedings, diapers, fevers, many health problems, soccer, schooling, driving, clothes shopping, vacations, all those things I did for her don't matter. She never asked for my help so it doesn't count. What counts after all these years????
I DON'T ALLOW TONGUE PIERCINGS IN MY HOUSE. That's the only thing that mattered. That's the straw the broke the camel's back. For now, for the first minute when I wake up I feel normal, then that horrible feeling comes over me when I realize she's gone. It's like an echo in my heart. Then I start my day, which has less meaning than it used to right now.
But I'll go to my grave with the image of my husband's face waking me up at 6:00am on a Wednesday morning and telling "She's gone." Go ahead and chuckle kid, maybe have a hearty laugh over it. It brought tears to my eyes then, and it brings tears to my eyes now.
May you one day get the opportunity to really and truly know your parents.
My 18 year old daughter who is not finished high school has left home to live with her boyfriend. She got a tongue piercing, which I hate and we let her know, no piercings of the tongue were allowed in the house. So, under cover of darkness, she went out the back door with her possessions. No goodbye, no note, nothing. Just left, like I was a landlord she owed rent to and she was skipping out. Even posted on Facebook 'Hello Freedom" before we even knew she was gone. Later she posted Partttty to let everyone know what a grand old time she was having.
I realize she's 18 and they are notoriously self centered and self involved. But does she lie in bed at night and wonder what our reactions were to finding out she was gone? Perhaps I should have taken a picture of her father's broken heartened expression that morning and posted it under her freedom status. She likened living here to being in jail. Unbelieveable. Very clueless to what jail is like, hopefully she'll never have opportunity to make that comparison.
So where is the book or wisdom that helps me get what feels like a piece of carpet out of my throat. I can't breathe. I feel rage, despair, intense physical pain, and depression all at the same time. Why do children not care that they hurt you? Why do they think you deserve what they dish out? How could everything that is done for someone's good, done so that they become successful members of society, be turned around and suddenly I'm the bad guy because she doesn't get something she wants. She already has a facial piercing and a tattoo, so we're not totally inflexible here.
As she curls up in bed with her boyfriend tonight, minus the high school diploma she'll never earn, does she reflect on her life, and that, just maybe ,we had a plan for her? That based on our wisdom and years, it was a doable one. Granted it didn't include living with her boyfriend, but there were alot of good points to it.
You see, like most parents, we wanted to see her succeed. To make something out of her life. To get an education, a job she enjoyed and felt pride in doing, find a good man, who would make a wonderful father, marry him, and have children. There's nothing grand about it, but it's a good life. You work hard, pay your bills, raise good kids, hold your head up high.
I cannot raise my head up high. She doesn't care about that. She wouldn't waste one minute's worry on that. Not until it happens to her. Because.....and this is what I don't get.....my daughter doesn't care what I feel. It either makes her laugh, or makes her mad, but not one of my feelings are legitimate. Pregnancy, birth, feedings, diapers, fevers, many health problems, soccer, schooling, driving, clothes shopping, vacations, all those things I did for her don't matter. She never asked for my help so it doesn't count. What counts after all these years????
I DON'T ALLOW TONGUE PIERCINGS IN MY HOUSE. That's the only thing that mattered. That's the straw the broke the camel's back. For now, for the first minute when I wake up I feel normal, then that horrible feeling comes over me when I realize she's gone. It's like an echo in my heart. Then I start my day, which has less meaning than it used to right now.
But I'll go to my grave with the image of my husband's face waking me up at 6:00am on a Wednesday morning and telling "She's gone." Go ahead and chuckle kid, maybe have a hearty laugh over it. It brought tears to my eyes then, and it brings tears to my eyes now.
May you one day get the opportunity to really and truly know your parents.
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