Visitation on Sunday

Yesterday ...

2010-05-22T06:07:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was a fun, hard, confusing, and an emotional day! I have an old box of film negatives. I decided to sort through them with a film to digital scanner thing. What treasures I found! Pictures of my babies, my (ex) husband, old friends, old enemies. The sane days, the insane days and alcohol filled days, my life caught on film. It was a roller coaster day.

The sane days, the days of normalcy were courtesy of my ex, Jim. Looking at those pictures reminded me of love I tossed aside. The pictures of my young kids and their "daddy". He liked being a daddy. That was plain to see looking back. Jim loved me no matter what but that wasn't enough for me. I wanted everything and I didn't even know what everything was. I looked "in all the wrong places" for it and I had it all the time. Regretfully, I threw it away.

I will always love Jim. It is a distinction he doesn't even know he holds... The only man I was ever "in" love with. And no one knows this... I wrote him after I moved to California and asked him if there was anyway we could get back together. I never heard back from him. I don't even know if he got that letter. I heard, after I sent the letter, he remarried as soon as our divorce was final. Maybe he threw the letter away out of respect for her or maybe he never got the letter.

I made amends to Jim a few weeks back. It wasn't the best time or place (his mother's funeral) but we may never see each other again. I told Jim that I have always loved him and I will love him until the day I die. I told him I am so sorry I couldn't be the wife he needed. I even told him I am grateful he has Laurie (his current wife). He deserves to be happy and he deserves a good wife. Jim is the father of my children, the "bestest" kisser ever, a wonderful dancer, a compassionate friend and a gentle lover... Jim is a good man. Laurie is very lucky and I hope she knows that.

More to follow...

You Get What I am...

2010-05-20T07:33:00.000-07:00

I was told I should delete yesterdays blog... No way! You get what you get and I am who I am. Today is a new day!

I never could figure out the statement, "Don't quit before the miracle happens". In my acute depression the last couple days it came to me. The miracle is another day of sobriety. Easy! Why the heck haven't I seen that before? Clear as day and looking too hard. Looking for a burning bush. A bright light or for Bill W himself to visit and proclaim, "a spiritual experience has happened here". A miracle has happened and I was was looking in the wrong direction!

You know, when I am depressed all I think about is drinking. Some of that is wanting to escape reality and the terrible feelings I am experiencing. I have gone out twice... It is much like moving to get away from your problems. There you are... Hello! You are the problem! The reward for drinking is simple... Prison. Drinking removes my right of choice. So, it is my choice today to stay out of prison!

Belonging and longing

2010-05-19T13:04:00.000-07:00

Some days I still feel like a square peg in a round hole. I wished things were different but I cannot change some of the things about me. This isn't your business, so leave me alone. No, please don't leave me alone. My head is such a mess. Yet people praise me and thank me and want to hear my story. I got nothing to give you. I am all used up. I'm tired.

Pity pot? Maybe but I am different from you. When people find out who I really am, they run away. I have seen it happen time and time again. You want to know why I don't get close to anyone? It is because I am scared of pain and rejection. Most reject me because of who I am. Some reject me because people tease them for being my friend. It is the truth in my world. It is my reality. I am getting too old to play these junior high school games.

So, I sit here alone. People ask me to lunch, dinner, meetings where ever but I always smile and say, no thanks not today. Because I know we would get close. Then you would find out about me and leave. I am one of God's kids, too you know. And I do have feelings. One of my nieces' has on her profile, "I yam what I yam." Hell yeah, so am I.

The Music

2010-05-17T07:33:00.000-07:00

Music was always my very best friend. It was there in my growing-up days, darkest days, drunk times, and sober fun. I have songs always and forever embedded in the footprints of my mind. My love of music was a gift awaken in me by Mom. Mom listened to every genre, sang great songs, and played piano. I wasn't allowed very many "extra's" as a kid but she bought me a trumpet. Long before I knew what it was I knew I wanted to play "that horn". I played my horn for hours every day whether I was happy or sad.

I have an Elvis license plate on my car. So, I suspect one may wonder why today I mourn Ronnie Dio. I loved him and I loved his music from the beginning to the end. Dio was also a trumpeter making him an automatic favorite of mine. I also mourn Lena Horne who passed May 9th. Mom used to sing One More For My Baby and Stormy Weather all the time. Since January 1st so many have gone. Johnny Maestro, Malcolm McLaren, Mark Linkous, Carl Smith and Teddy Pendergrass to name only a few.

In a few weeks I am going to New Orleans. This trip will allow me to check many of the remaining things off my "bucket" list. When I was a kid I wanted to play my horn in New Orleans. I probably won't play a horn there but I will listen to the music. One of the greatest gifts from my HP is I can feel the music deep in my soul. I could never explain that statement, I just feel the music. I love every note every musician plays. If there is a band in heaven I hope when my time comes they will be playing "When the Saints Go Marching In" and I hope Louis Armstrong is leading the parade. Let Elvis sing "How Great Thou Art" and Mahalia Jackson sing "Amazing Grace" and I will be there... For I am music.

Where in the World is Adam?

2010-05-14T07:18:00.000-07:00

I follow several other blogs. One in particular I really enjoy is, An Addict in Our Sons Bedroom. They wrote a piece on the blame game to which I replied:

Over twenty years ago and after 3 or 4 treatment centers I kicked my oldest son out. I have only seen him 2 or 3 times. He stopped calling me years ago when I told him no more money. I miss him terribly everyday. I do not know if he is even alive. Sometimes it seems like it would be easier if he were dead. Coulda, woulda, shoulda were my constant companions. I sometimes would wonder if I quit before the miracle happened. In all my meetings, in both fellowships, I have never heard anyone give thanks to their Higher Power, whom they choose to call "Mom & Dad". I know it is out of my hands but every once in awhile I wonder, "If only I (fill in the blank)". Those are the days I help a friend, go to a meeting or call my sponsor. Sometimes all three! It has gotten easier but the pain is still deep.

Yes the pain is still there like a sore that won't go away. A cancer in my soul. I really do hate alcoholism (and all addictions). My family is riddled with alcoholics and drug addicts. For my children (and my grandchildren) that meant/means just add alcohol and find out if you are or not. It is a very dangerous, life threatening game I would suggest they not play. Alcohol and drugs will rape, rob and beat you to near death. Like the song goes, "Everything you love starts to disappear, the devil takes your hand and says, no fear have another shot just one more beer"- Kenny Chesney.

Sometimes I Learn

2010-05-13T11:32:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I still have trouble putting a label on my feelings. Sometimes I don't like being sad so I search inside for something else. To be honest, sometimes I still search outside. Sometimes there is nothing but sadness. And sometimes, just maybe, that is alright. The little dog and I didn't work out so good. She was terribly sick. I had over $200.00 in vet bills in the first two days and the doctor told me if she was still sick tomorrow, she would have to do "very costly" tests. The next day she was worst. I took the little dog back to the dog pound.

I am sad but, in reality, it is not because I was so attached and "in love" with the dog. I was "in love" with the plans and dreams I had for us. First off I didn't want a puppy, too much work. I wanted a small dog, easy to train and friendly. I was going to go on walks with her. We would fish, shop, talk and laugh. She would be my therapist and I would train her to be a therapy dog. We would be loved and respected by all.

My head just doesn't work right, we talked about that before. My friend, Kenneth, said he told his wife he hates their new house. He hates living on the east side and wishes they lived on the west side. She told him he wants the to live on the west side because he lives on the east side. Yes, I understood that comment. Kenneth, told me that as long as I am not in jail, it is a good day. And so it is...

Yikes

2010-05-12T14:36:00.000-07:00

I am not without problems today and most are of my own making.

I need to find my gratitude journal. Where the heck did I put the darn thing.

Oh oh oh Hey! I am grateful I can take my language out of the bar and make it user friendly

Dog thing didn't work out. She was terribly ill and neither of us slept last night. More to follow...

Two Days Off and a New Friend!

2010-05-10T08:37:00.000-07:00

I skipped two days of blogging but... What an awesome Mother's Day weekend! My daughter and her husband, Trisha and Gary, came to visit me. They got me a very cool "Zelda" t-shirt. My son Jim called me twice from Iraq, I was gone both times. He left messages and it was great to hear his voice! He sent me chocolate and tulips. How blessed am I.

For awhile now I have been thinking of getting another dog. After much research I decided the cocker spaniel is the perfect breed for me. My ambivalence was the puppy years until two years old. Do I really want that? I also wanted to find my new helper at the Humane Society. Would all those things collide together in my world? Trisha, Gary and I went to the flea market. We walked a ton and I wearing down. As we were leaving we walked by the Humane Society display and lo and behold there was a two year old cocker spaniel! We took her out of the cage and amid the chaos around us, she laid down at my feet!

I pick her up this afternoon. I will probably name her Keeper. She is already spoiled to death with everything a girl could possibly want! PetSmart shelves are empty this morning! Plus, she is signed up for training through expert. I would like her to not only become my helper but a help to others. Keeper and I will train together to eventually become a therapy team. I am very excited to have Keeper in my life.

A few years ago I was a dog in a cage, denial was my jailer. My program, the steps and my Higher Power have set me free. None of this would be possible without those things in my life. I was also given a bonus this weekend. My daughter has asked me to accompany her to New Orleans for a couple weeks. She is going for work. What an honor to have my beautiful Trisha ask to spend time with this old girl. None of this is my doing, I just got out of the way and allowed my life to happen.

Shelter From the Storm

2010-05-07T07:48:00.000-07:00

The men are here putting in a below ground tornado shelter. I was looking online for shelter supplies and I thought of my mom. When I was younger I lived in Oklahoma. My brother, Mark and his wife moved in with my family. He went for a general physical for employment and they found a tumor in his abdomen. My parents came down to see him when he had surgery. While they were there we had a tornado come through. We took shelter in the hallway and put a mattress over our heads. My son said, "Wow Grandpa, that is a big train!" Yes, it was!

We lost a corner of the roof over our living room. (We were unaware of the damage until days later when I mowed the backyard.) After the storm passed there was no power for many hours. I did not have a flashlight, portable radio, candle or anything even remotely similar. My dad pulled the radio and battery from their car so we could "stay up to date on the weather". My mom had a fit with me, "If I lived in the south I would have several flashlights, a radio, extra batteries and a storm shelter, for God sakes, Linda"

So, I am in the south once again. I am building a shelter and getting the necessary supplies. I spent a good part of my life waiting for Mom's approval and that never happened. Through the years, with help of my twelve step programs I am able to find shelter from all of life's storms. I have quit looking for approval from the outside. With the help of my Higher Power and the steps, I have learned to find approval from within. Accepting my Higher Powers perfection, love and grace everyday, has filled my heart with all the love and all the approval I need, just for today!

Tried and Tired

2010-05-06T09:46:00.000-07:00

It has been an exhausting few days since the "great credit card theft". I am very sure I now know the who and how. A couple months ago I purchased a spyware program. After I paid for it, I found that it was in fact a dangerous program itself. My grandson had a program to completely eradicate it from my system. He did that for me. I fought back and forth with the company to get my credit card credited. They finally did that. And I think they have now helped themselves to stuff at my expense.

Trust no one but yourself. In my case I sometimes cannot even trust me! I need to be present at my meetings or my head get screwed up. I just don't think right. I over-react and spend time spinning my wheels. Take evasive action? Yes! But for gosh sake don't leave the human race! I tend to want to isolate and monitor my life from behind this keyboard. That is not good for this kid. bbl

What Goes Around?

2010-05-05T06:48:00.000-07:00

I wrote yesterday of my sadness at being defriended on Facebook by my (former) minister. As fate would have it, I ended the day by deleting a lot of my friends. I am retired and on disability. I have nothing of my own and not much income. What income I have helps pay my medical expenses. Gratefully my basic needs and some wants are taken care of by a very dear friend.

I went online to pay my bills and bam, numerous charges here and there, that are not mine. My one credit card was slammed hard. I use this card for online purchases only out of fear of theft. However, I bought something locally recently. I did not feel comfortable giving up my checking account information. So, I used my online card in that store. I trusted the salesman in the store but there were numerous people sitting at his desk going through stuff, on the days I was in the store. In my mind I have narrowed my breach down to that store or one online source. In reality, it is probably "Bigger then the Beatles", there are bogus telephone numbers associated with the charges.

I will probably never know for sure what, where, why, when, or how. I do know it sure is a mess. I am changing passwords, cancelling accounts, and credit cards. I feel violated. As a person with huge trust issues to start with, this was a severe blow. I don't know who or what to trust. I have deleted people on Facebook I really don't know. I want to check for a key-logger on my computer but which program is safe and not a spy itself. And, I am searching for the lesson in it all.

Old Church Old Feelings

2010-05-04T08:33:00.000-07:00

The minister from my home church back in Michigan sent me an email. In part she cited her policy of "not friending on Facebook people who are former members of my church once they've become members somewhere else." She ended the email with, "So I am sorry to tell you this but I am defriending you on Facebook." With a click of a button we were no longer friends. Like a dutiful child not wanting to make waves I wrote her back, "I do understand and thank you for sending me this note." Well, I am not fine, I don't understand and I am very hurt. I feel like a lost little girl looking for Mommies love, once again.

First off, I was never an official member of her church. We had never got our Sundays to line up to make it official. Secondly, I have not become a member of any other church. Her church was where my heart was and I am feeling excommunicated. Even the Catholic church didn't "defriend" me. I was as generous as I could be with her church, to a fault. I even tithed after our schedule changed and we could no longer attend. Furthermore, I finished our pledge after we moved to Mississippi. And just maybe that is where friendships and memberships really end... When the tithe ends.

Years ago a ministers wife was trying to recruit me as a member of her husbands church. I told her that given my background and belief system, I am not welcome in most churches. She told me this story. A young man was on the front church steps crying when Jesus approached him, "What is the matter, my son", Jesus asked. The man told Jesus that he was not welcome in this church. Jesus responded, "Don't worry son, neither am I!"

Sigh

2010-05-03T06:22:00.000-07:00

I skipped the meeting today. Some days I just don't want to play and I think that is alright. What I am struggling with is, I resigned as GSR. I have done a ton of service work in the last years and I wish to step down. I feel a bit guilty as there is no one that will do the job. I could blame a ton of stuff, like we haven't had a business meeting since before the last quarterly assembly. It is time for another Area Assembly.

The real reason is hard for me to admit. I am scared. I am not young and dumb any more. Where the hotels are, is huge and very busy. The people on the corners are not passing out church literature. It is a very scary area. Besides my overnight bag, I have a huge oxygen concentrator to haul around. And I am on my own, alone.

Accepting my limitations and disabilities has been very hard on me. I was always the strong one. I raised the kids alone, worked, cleaned house, cooked the meals, mowed the yard, PTA and Scouts. When I came into the twelve step world I jumped into service work with both feet. Now I can no longer make promises my body and mind cannot keep.

It all makes me very sad. The damage I have done to my body with cigarettes and booze is catastrophic. I always joked about my addictions. 'It takes the years off my life I don't want to be here for anyhow." I would quip. But oh yes, I want to live many more years. I want to laugh, love and listen to the music.

A Day of Rest

2010-05-02T06:20:00.000-07:00

My Higher Power a so awesome! He has given me so many blessings I cry sometimes. He took the seventh day off and as I strive towards His perfection, so shall I!

Peace, Love and Light!

Doin' the Deal

2010-05-01T06:19:00.000-07:00

Most of my friends and family members know that I attend twelve step meetings. If you did not know, you do now.

Down here in the south they refer to working or living the twelve steps as "doin' the deal". I never know for sure if "it" is working in my life. And sometimes I think I just don't get "it".

Today after a very spiritual Saturday morning meeting, a gentleman came up to me. He has forty plus years of continuous sobriety. I very much respect him and his program. He said to me, "I love listening to you talk. You remind me of my first sponsor."

He has said that to me before. I have always thought he meant my northern accent or the tone of my voice. He continued, "He was one of the most spiritual people I had ever met, too."

Whoa... I am just trudging down the road doin' the deal.

Well Shoot

2010-04-30T06:12:00.000-07:00

Mother's Day, it will be here before we know it. I miss my Mom and I suspect I will the rest of the days of my life. She didn't like me or so it seemed to me and my sister-in-law confirmed that and further told to stay away from Mom. I didn't stay away and Mom and I became best of friends. The last 20 years of her life we went to breakfast and shopping nearly every Saturday. I am glad I didn't let my ego come between us because I am so blessed to have been friends with Mother.

The flip side of Mother's Day is Adam, my oldest son and middle child. I don't recall the last time he spoke to me on Mother's Day. I would guess 20 to 25 years ago. He chose to go the route of drugs and alcohol. After numerous hospitalizations I was advise to kick him out. He had quit school and was 18 so out he went. It killed me to do that but I was told it was the only way to send Adam a "wake up call". I have only seen him a few times since that day. He used to call once in awhile homeless and needing money. The last time he called for money I told him that I am broke and have nothing left to give. He has never called me again.

And so on Mother's Day I wish and I wait. I wish I could call my Mom. I wait for calls from my children. Trisha usually calls me first. Jim almost always calls in the afternoon, if he is able. And I wait for my beautiful son Adam to call me. And I cry because the phone doesn't ring. But once again, this year, I will wait and I will hope.

Tonight Will Be Dark

2010-04-29T06:09:00.000-07:00

And tomorrow will light. That is about the only thing I am sure of today! I said I am writing everyday... Well, what the heck was I thinking? I have nothing. So, gratitude will have to do!

Today I am grateful for:

1. The new woman at my noon meeting. She is my age, had oxygen tubing marks on her face like mine and just for today she wanted to go to bed without drinking! It was her second meeting and she drank in between that one and today. "Oh well", I told her, "That was yesterday and today is today. That is all we've got." I am glad I know that and could pass it on.

2. I am so happy I do not have to be the leader of the pack today. I love sitting back and letting the other egos do all the heavy lifting. I'll make coffee, it keeps "Ole Slick" off my back.

3. Finding an old friend on Facebook from the beginning in 1984. We were at the same meetings and same tables until he moved from Adrian. I love the things we shared back then. When our friend Bullet was hospitalized many years ago, he drove down to Adrian to get me. He took me to Ypsi to visit Bullet. To me it is no wonder he is still sober today. He is one of the miracles that was there so I could be here.

My Kids and the Legend of Zelda

2010-04-28T06:08:00.000-07:00

I have two kids that are part of my life, my daughter Trisha and my son, James. They both have showered me with love, gifts and tears. I love them both very deeply. This story is about old gifts from my daughter and new lessons learned.

I first became addicted to games when the Atari came out. Then a few years later, I found my true love RPG's. The Legend of Zelda was released for play on the original Nintendo. Jim and I spent hours playing that game. I could figure things out and he could kill stuff. We found ground to share when he was a young preteen and teenager. I couldn't afford to buy the game so we rented it on the weekend. I was horribly angry when someone erased my game and I was inconsolable if it wasn't available.

Trisha and her family knew my addiction to games from Zelda all the way through the years to World of Warcraft and Final Fantasy XI. She and her family bought me these great t-shirts as gifts. One has a picture of Zelda sword raised and inscribed "Legend in Progress". Another has a picture of the original Nintendo inscribed "Classically Trained". There are many more. I wear these shirts only once in a great while as I don't want them to wear out.

I was searching through the closet I keep them in and thought, Heck I'm going to wear out before these shirts do. Ah-Ha! They went straight to the laundry and I am wearing a different one every day. I have now taken all the good stuff out and I am using everything I have been saving. I am even taking my beautiful Mother's ring they bought me to be re-sized. I have had it locked in a safe for many years. It is way past time for me to enjoy all the things in my life. After all, all I have here is today.

Worms in my Refrigerator

2010-04-27T06:07:00.000-07:00

I like to fish or maybe I like thought of being able to fish, I don't know. Anyhow, I went and bought a new rod, reel, tackle box and worms. I put all my new fishing gear in my room and the worms in the frig. Worms are always kept in the refrigerator, according to my Dad. That action brought about a memory of my Grandma D.

Grandma D. had a cabin in the northern lower peninsula of Michigan. We vacationed there every July. By we I mean my parents and my brothers and sister. I loved "the cabin". It was back 45 years ago and we were one of the very few cabins on the lake. There was literally a one lane path leading back through the woods to the cabin. I loved it there and many of my fondest memories are from our times there.

Anyhow, Dad would take Don (my brother) and I fishing. We went everyday, twice a day some days. And when I didn't get to go in the boat I fished off the dock. It was really cool because at the end of the dock the lake had drop off and it was very deep and dark. You could catch as many or more fish from the dock as you could from the boat. When not fishing, we went digging for worms. We kept the worms in an old Crisco can in the refrigerator.

My Grandma was a lady. She always reminded me of the Queen of England, a proper lady. You can see where this is going... She went to fix popcorn for us one night. Got out the "Crisco" and, you guessed it, worms went flying all over the cabin.

A Step Back in Time into Love

2010-02-08T09:50:00.000-08:00

My children's paternal grandmother, Leona, passed away in December. Her family decided to have her funeral in February. My daughter wanted to go and I agreed to go with her this past weekend. I have always loved my ex-husband, Jim, and I was so very "in" love with his family. Walking into Leona's home the other night was a step back in time. Seeing everyone was nearly overwhelming for me. After all theses decades, they made me feel at home. Welcome. It was as if years of separation had never happened.

Jim was a wonderful man, a very caring and compassionate husband and an awesome father. It was me, my secrets and my mental illness. I think I was mentally ill long before my marriage but the birth of my daughter and the depression that followed was my first glimpse into hell. I thought my husband was my dad and I was my mother and Trisha was me. I couldn't make sense of the world or anything in it. My husband went to our doctor and the doctor ordered a prescription of Valium for me (my start into the world of addiction).

I somehow felt I had to hide who I really was from everyone. My husband was the oldest of 10 and hiding in his large family was easy. I loved them and for the first time I understood the meaning of family. I never had a real family. Jim's family made me feel loved, protected and secure. The large stately home they lived in was my sanctuary. I went there all the time and I couldn't have been happier and I was never again saner.

Jim went into the Army, his family moved to Florida and I had two more children, my sons. During my third pregnancy Jim had to leave for his third tour in Viet Nam. I was in horrible shape mentally. Jim did everything he could do to stay home with me. He took me to Army doctors and they said I would be fine just have a couple drinks before bed to help me sleep. (My first steps into alcoholism.) He left and just before our second son was born Viet Nam ended. My husband came home and we bundled up our new baby boy and headed off to Fort Sill, OK.

The third kid was overwhelming for me. I couldn't figure out how to take care of three of them. I only had two arms. Who would I save in a fire? What would I do? Big Jim worked nights and I was so terrified. He brought a hand gun home but that made me more fearful and so he had to take it away. My third kid was very ill and would stop breathing often. He wasn't gaining weight, couldn't hold up his head and was not connected to the world. The doctors thought he had mental issues because the cord was wrapped around his neck at birth. It turned out to be allergies but the damage to my mental health was swift and severe. The solution for me was more Valium or Librium and booze.

I met a woman during that madness and she would take my hand and walk with me into the very pits of addiction, alcoholism and insanity. She helped me find the false courage I needed to get divorced. Many years before, in the late 1960's, I had left Jim. My parents with my daughters Godparents told me if I divorced him they would go to court and have Trisha (my only child at the time) taken away from me. So, I felt like I had go as far away from family as I could. Besides, why would they want to hear from me anyhow? I moved to California and stayed low. I would never give up my babies. Never. By now deep paranoia had set in. I self medicated and drank more and more. I stayed in the pits of hell for nearly ten years until 1984. That is when I found Dr Jacob and my 12 step program.

No one will ever know how much I still mourn the loss of my husband and his family. How much I wish my children could have known the normalcy and love this family would have freely given them. I often wonder how things would have been different for me and my children if and if. This weekend I was able to tell Jim's wife of 20 plus years how much I appreciate her. Jim deserves happiness and a good wife who can take care of him. I was able to tell Jim I will love him until my last breath and I am so sorry I couldn't be the wife he needed and deserved. I was able to embrace and be embraced by the people that taught me to love and to be loved, for the first time in my life, all those years ago.

Thank you to my Higher Power for the gift of one of the most beautiful, bitter-sweet weekends of my life. I only pray today for forgiveness from this family and my children. Your will Father not mine.

All these years...

2010-01-26T07:32:00.000-08:00

I got my 3rd four year token yesterday. I got to choose the speaker at a meeting that is not typically a speaker meeting. The guys even bought me a birthday cake! Rob gave me my token in front of everyone. He patted my back about the quality of my sobriety, starting a new meeting, and becoming our GSR. Ron was choked up. Many of the people that came up and gave me a hug after the meeting were near tears. This was very important to these people - four years!

I stood there for a long time watching people talk about the journey sobriety takes us on while we ate cake. I was amazed at the tears of happiness and the laughter. I was standing there ashamed. Ashamed because I should have picked up my 25 year token in December. As soon as that thought crossed my mind it dissolved and I felt overwhelmed. In an instant I felt new, whole, perfect. I saw through the eyes of a person who had lost it all and in 4 years had more then they ever could imagine. I really could not have imagined the life I live today! I have never before felt this level of gratitude and peace.

Thank you to everyone who has been part of these four years. Some are AA, some are Al-Anon, some are still drunks, some are near, some are afar, some are friends, and some are family. Some know the peace true serenity brings and some are still learning. I can see the promises through your eyes for the first time and I am so deeply grateful.

Who's Inventory Are You Taking? Mine or Yours

2010-01-07T10:16:00.000-08:00

I haven't written in a bit because I was out of the country, then I got sick, and then my family went crazy. For one, I was called dysfunctional. No way, me? Well, I wasn't just called dysfunctional it was put in writing on a social network for all the world to see. It hurt my feelings. The truth is generally painful. The person involved in the name calling might want to look at themselves. You know what "they" say, "You spot it, you got it." or "You name it, you claim it."

My children haven't lived with me in over 20 years, my siblings haven't lived with me in over 40 years. The way I see it, the basic problem here is, I have changed so much in the last years I don't even look like the same person. I don't sound like her, I don't dress like her and I don't talk like her. They don't know that, they still see the old person. I have spent a lifetime in therapy, 25 years in AA and 23 years in Al-Anon. Have I "slipped" over the years? Yep. Am I perfect? Nope.

As painful as it is for me, there are things about me I can never change. I cannot change the Mommy that was not perfect but, oh my gosh, I was so much better then my role models. Other things I cannot change are, I am an alcoholic. I am an adult child of alcoholic parents. I was abused, neglected and unloved. I am the mother of a drug addict. I am bi-polar. I am short and I am getting old.

Do I get mad when I allow you to suck me in? You bet I do. I turn into the raging idiot that was living in my body before I found a program. However, my anger is not aimed at you today. It is aimed at me for allowing myself to play very hurtful games with you. Today I recover quicker. Today I have sponsors, friends, meetings and my Big Book. Today I can be swift in forgiving and more importantly, I can forgive myself. Today I know love and I am loved.

Going Home

2009-12-12T15:10:00.000-08:00

As many of you know, I moved from Michigan to Mississippi about 8 months ago. I was raised in Michigan and spent the majority of my life there. I got sober in Michigan. I went to Al-anon for many years in Michigan. My home group for both programs meets at Bixby Hospital in Adrian, MI. My church is in Michigan and most of my friends live in Michigan. So, when I got the chance to go back to Michigan for a visit it was a "no brainer" for me. As I drove the miles between Mississippi and Michigan I felt great excitement. I was on my way home.

My mom told me many years ago one can never go back home. I had not been gone that long, or had I? I was blessed to have the opportunity to go to my church and my home group meeting. My meeting was over early so I went down the hall to Al-anon. I felt comfortable in my church. A new couple I didn't know came over and sat with me. Both of my meetings at Bixby Hospital felt comfortable but something was missing. Maybe my ego thought people would fall down at my feet.

On my way back to Mississippi I really felt like I was on my way "back home". I drove all the way back to Mississippi as fast as I could. I drove into the night, way past my normal bedtime. Skipping breaks and eating fast food fast. I wanted to be back home. I wanted to get to bed and get up on time for my home group meeting in Tupelo. I made it! And you know what? People didn't fall to their feet but I did! I was so happy to get home to my home group meeting. The guys were all there that have become very special to me.

I have struggled with my sobriety for many years. I know now that the move to Mississippi was a gift from my Higher Power. The move has renewed and refreshed my sobriety. After I went back out the second time I felt so bad about myself and I felt everyone in the state of Michigan was judging me. It seemed to me my sobriety was always in jeopardy. The people at my home group here in Mississippi know about my past. The difference is I have never let them down and I hope I never do. I feel new, welcome and very special here. I feel at home.

God and the Woodpecker

2009-11-26T07:08:00.000-08:00

November is gratitude month and believe it or not, as of today, I have not sat at one gratitude table. In Michigan it seemed all we had were gratitude meetings in November! I hated those meetings. People said, "I am grateful for my sobriety." I always thought, "Big deal everyone in the room is sober."

I learned the biggest lessons of my life in March of 2009. First, I need to back up a few months. I had a beautiful backyard in Michigan with a creek and huge old trees. In my kitchen was a big sliding glass door and I could sit at my breakfast table and behold nature. Out in my yard I had a tiny little bird house with a tiny little hole in it. Every spring these little birds would come and have babies birds and leave at summers end.

In the late fall of 2008 I was watching out my door and along came a red-headed woodpecker. He started pecking away at the little hole in my little birdhouse. At first I wanted to shoo him away but I had never seen a woodpecker up close. So I watched in fascination as he hammered away. When he left I looked and to my horror the cute little hole was big, ugly and out of shape. Before I could get up from the table along came these bigger birds. They made their home there in the birdhouse. The imperfect house, in my eyes, became a perfect home for those birds! My gift was a lesson about perfection and God's grace but it doesn't end there.

In March of 2009, the movers came and went and I was wrapping up a bittersweet move from Michigan to Mississippi. I was cleaning out the last remaining things from the kitchen and I looked out and saw my poor run down birdhouse. I was wondering if those little birds would live in that house ever again. All of a sudden a huge storm started. It got very black and the wind blew very hard. The river was way above its the banks and the huge trees were water-logged and heavy.

When the storm ended many trees had fallen across my backyard. Part of my garage roof was torn back and I had minor damage to my house. My fence had collapsed under the tremendous weight of those huge old trees. I looked through the limbs and devastation and there, standing proud, was the birdhouse. What a beautiful gift my HP gave me! He showed me His grace and His love. If He cared so much for His birds, I knew I was "worth it". I also knew everything would be O.K. and for that I am very grateful.

Gifts From "HP" and My Cousin

2009-11-23T13:44:00.000-08:00

Getting gifts from my Higher Power is always great but the one I got this time is beyond my dreams. I know the gifts were always there but anger and fear blinded from seeing them. It seems the more I thank "HP", the more I am able to see and the more I receive. As with everything in my life, that too is cyclical. And as with everything in my life, more is being revealed to me.

I always thought I had lost my childhood memories. Years of abuse from my parents and years of self-inflicted abuse left me immobilized by my own self-loathing. I thought I was worthless, unloved and incapable of loving. Little by little my program taught me otherwise. Doing a fourth and fifth step helped me see where I was the problem. It also allowed me freedom to grow beyond my wildest dreams. I was able to love and to be loved. I have been to my dad's grave and forgiven him. My mother and I talked about "it" before she died. Mom will always be in my heart as a "best friend".

I know my childhood had to have good no matter how dark because I wasn't completely lost. I just could not remember any good. So I prayed on it. I did a first step on my childhood, so to speak. And then, as the old song goes, "Along Came Sally". In birth order Sally is our maternal grandmothers' oldest granddaughter and I am next. I grew up with Grandma near me in Michigan, Sally lived in California. Sally's other grandmother lived in Michigan as well. The Grandmothers were friends and I had a relationship with both of Sally's grandmas. Sally's mother is the oldest of three sisters and my mom is the youngest.

It started innocently, I found Sally on Facebook and emailed her. She emailed me back! I told her I didn't know anything about her sibs and kids. We emailed that information back and forth and on it goes. We have shared childhood memories, some I had completely forgot. We have shared information about ourselves and our families. I cannot wait for new emails and hate when I get busy and cannot respond right away.

When I write her I start writing "my dad did this or that". Then I stop and think, she doesn't need to know that. So, I erase and redo. That process has allowed me to "re-frame" my childhood. To completely free myself of the darkest thoughts and find the good. Thank you HP for one of the most precious gifts I have ever received! They say, "when the student is ready". I am here to tell you for me that is the truth and her name is Sally!

Just Put "IT" on the Blackboard

2009-11-17T12:41:00.000-08:00

My home group meets 4 days a week on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday at 12:05 P.M. We call ourselves the Spiritual Progress Group.

The meetings here in Mississippi are different from meetings in Michigan. There are still smoking meetings everyday and not very many speaker meetings. (I don't attend the smoking meetings as I am a recovered nicotine addict.) The big thing is there are only two Big Book Study's. I went to one and no one showed up. The other I have been invited to but I have not attended yet. I cannot find any 12 & 12 study groups.

I miss my Big Book study groups and felt sad that I could not get to the only one in town. And here is how this program works, just put "it" on the blackboard. You see, many years ago I had no place to go for Thanksgiving. I told the Alano Club Manager we should have Thanksgiving Dinner here, at the club. He said, "Put it on the board".

We had a marvelous Thanksgiving dinner that many attended. That was 24 years ago and I believe they still have holiday dinners there several times a year. So, with that in mind, I put my desire for a Big Study "on the board". Or should I say I brought it up at our home group meeting. The Spiritual Progress Group now meets five days a week and Wednesday is our Big Book Study! And for that... I am grateful!

Wow still procrastinating, sponsorship and Tradition Three

2009-11-16T08:34:00.000-08:00

When I started this blog I told myself I would post something everyday. My first post was October 24, 2009 and I have only four posts to date. This post will make five, not quite everyday! Deep breath, what is the real issue here? What is it I am really putting off? OH! I know... Finding a sponsor here in Mississippi. A real sponsor, with a sponsor and with a telephone!

It is hard because there is something about me that is different from others people! I know you think everyone feels that way but in my case it is true. In the "bible belt" I cannot be honest about who I am. I feel if I cannot be honest it will be hard to find a sponsor. I am not rolling about in self-pity. I am speaking the truth. When it comes to some matters, some people in the program do not follow Tradition Three (The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking.). I thank my HP everyday that everyone doesn't feel that way! (I might use that in my gratitude journal tonight! One down two to go.)

I am curious, do I need to be 100% honest with my sponsor? Can I omit the part about who I am at the very core of my being? One of my friends in Michigan told me if I do not live my truth I am denying others in my position the wisdom of my journey. Let me know what you think!

Coat Hangers and Safety Pins

2009-11-08T17:05:00.000-08:00

I have had a ton of stuff going on in the last few weeks. A new doctor, oxygen and new medications. I think I am doing great for a 61 year old that smoked too much, drank too much and had way way too much fun. So I am here in Mississippi and I needed a new doctor. The new doctor wanted new tests and oops, I am not getting enough oxygen. Oh, and one more thing the cholesteral is way too high.

I told her I am opposed to taking medications. She was fine with that and wrote me a prescription for fish oil for my cholesteral. She ordered a monitor to check my oxygen levels at night and I was way too low. She then ordered oxygen at night and a sleep study. The sleep study requires another new doctor. Yikes! Scarey stuff.

And here is how my wondrous life goes, my sponsor Wendy called me. We chatted about nothing really but I got out of myself. I have trouble calling because I never can figure out the the first few words when I am, well to be honest, scared. People don't live without oxygen. My mom died from lung cancer and on and on the fears swirled. Wendy helped me find something else to do and she didn't even know it. I looked for and ordered CD's by Holly Martin and Poor Boy Rice. It takes me forever to do that kind of stuff.

Oh the title of this blog? I did laundry after the oxygen came the other day. When I was hanging clothes up there was the coat hanger with the safety pins on it. It was my mom's. Mom always wore skirts and always pinned them to a hanger with safety pins. This treasure was my unexpected inheritance. After mom died I was given a bunch of her old clothes to take to the Goodwill. Somehow this lone coat hanger with the pins got left behind in my closet. It seems just when I need a Mother's touch there is her coat hanger. The safety pins were no doubt pinned to her blouse like a medal before they were pinned to this old hanger. I can still see her removing the pins from her blouse and lovingly pinning her skirt to the hanger. And now that old hanger lovingly embraces me.

Drunk After Eleven Years and Then Again

2009-10-30T08:21:00.000-07:00

When I had eleven or twelve years sobriety we moved 25 miles out of town. It was hard to get to a meeting. I got home from work, fixed dinner and didn't feel like driving all the way back to town. People stopped calling me and I didn't call them. One night we went to a nearby restaurant and they had karaoke. I had never seen karaoke in my life! I was fascinated with it and started following karaoke all around. Unfortunately karaoke is in the bars. Before I knew what happened I became, not only a karaoke star, but a drunk once again.

After breaking up with my partner, filing bankruptcy and the like, I returned to my meetings. I found a sponsor and she taught me "Service is the Secret". I jumped in with both feet and walked the walk. My partner came back home and all was well. After nearly ten years (once again) of sobriety I learned I had major health issues. I had to quit smoking (my identity). I could see my Mom wasn't well and I needed to help her more and more (resentment). I became disabled and could no longer work (identity and resentment). I did all this while going through menopause. Whew... Too tired for meetings, feeling worthless, and no contact with a sponsor. (Looking back I am not sure I had a sponsor at that point!) I drank again.

After giving up sobriety once the second time is much easier. I don't even know for sure when I picked up. I believe it was when my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer. Mom died one week after the diagnosis. During the death vigil I had to mingle with and put up with family. The funeral was a couple blocks from my home so everyone was in and out of my house. All these resentments, I had never worked through, were sitting at my kitchen table. I shattered into a million pieces.

After sitting alone and drinking myself to near death for months. My doctor told me I needed to go back, once again, to my meetings. I felt so bad, so humiliated. Everyone knew me and everyone knew I drank once again. The sobriety countdowns were torture. One woman told me I owed every woman in the program an amends because they all looked up to me. I failed them! I was a failure! Those things could have helped me stay out until death. However, I chose to go to meetings in another area. I even started a meeting in my small hometown.

I wasn't long into this second term of sobriety and I found out I was moving, 750 miles away! When I moved here I thought, hell no one knows me I can drink again! Then it occurred to me, people knowing me doesn't affect my level of drinking, I am a drunk! I found a meeting here I love with good sobriety. I had a man from that meeting come to my home to look at some work I needed done. He stayed and we talked program forever. He said, "Miss Linn, AA has come to your house. You need a bigger coffee pot!" (I had a one cup pot) You know what, I have never allowed AA in my house and didn't even realize it! I stayed isolated and kept getting drunk. My disease loves it when I am alone so it can kill me. The very next day I passed out my phone number and invited people over. I have had more people in and out of my home here then I did in all the years I lived in Michigan! Oh yes! I have bought bigger coffee pot!

"The" Gratitude Journal

2009-10-25T18:06:00.000-07:00

Many of my sponsor's over the years have suggested I write a gratitude journal. I always showed great "verbal motivation" but never actually started a journal. I said I did and in my mind I thought of stuff but I have never felt grateful. I could say "my sobriety" but I didn't really feel grateful for it. Many people had a heck of a lot more sobriety then me.

Then my one sponsor brought a journal and pen to me. She challenged me to list just 3 things a night, no more no less. So the first page in that journal looks like this:

I am grateful for:

1. This journal

2. This pen

3. I thought of those two things!

That was the start of a life changing journey. I can list things forever now. Gratitude can be learned and for that I am truly grateful!

Breaking for Rainbows

2009-10-24T12:53:00.000-07:00

I started a blog a while back. My vision was to do something with my idle time so I wouldn't worry about my son so much. (My son, James, is in Iraq.) The thoughts around, the planning and the writing of the blog occupied much of my time. The benefit to me was time passed and fears diminished. The awesome gift I got from the blog was hope and peace of mind.

When I started blogging I wanted to write about my fears and my relationships with family and friends. Like many in my age group I came from a fairly normal dysfunctional home. It would have been very easy for me to name the sins of all my family members but for what purpose? Some would say "to heal" and to them I say "bah". These people have partners, spouses, children, grandchildren and other family and friends. Do I need to destroy them to heal myself? I don't think so.

What I decided to do was write things that are positive about these people. My mom always said, "If you cannot say something nice, don't say anything at all." As much hurt as some of my family caused me they also blessed me with wonderful gifts. So many gifts that to name them would take me hours! Music, theater, love, discipline, laughter, the list is endless.

Today I have an appreciation for everyone who has walked my journey with me. When I cannot find anything good to say about an individual I remember the lesson from our relationship was life changing. I am very grateful for all the days of my life and even during the worst of storms, I still break for rainbows.

Father, brothers and a missing son

2009-10-16T13:04:00.000-07:00

I have spent many hours in prayerful meditation regarding this blog. In my opinion, I have lived with alcoholics all my life, even when I am home alone. One of the things I have learned is to be mindful of others. I have a ton of bad history with my father, both of my brothers and my son, Adam. Besides me, these men are the alcoholic/drug addicts in my life that at times still haunt the corners of my mind. (Picture is my father)

As I look at things that happened between these men and me I must try to find my part in it. As a small child I had no part in that insanity but as an adult I do have a part. What I mean is, some of the stuff that happened to me as a child I continued to carry around as an adult for many years. I reacted to my adult environment through the eyes of a scared little girl. That is the area for which I am responsible, how I live my life today and to not allow these men to continue to abuse me.

In finding my part in everything, I must also make amends for my actions. And herein lays my dilemma. In making amends I need to remember the second part, "except when to do so would injure them or others." For me to publicly name the actions of these men I risk hurting their children, grandchildren and other family members. I would never intentionally hurt anyone.

I no longer hold any anger or resentment towards these men, I have forgiven them. That was hard to do and for many years I told people "forgiveness is God's business not mine". I have learned for me, forgiveness has three parts. First, I had to admit I need to forgive. Second, I had to actually forgive. Third, I had to accept that these men were/are suffering from their own disease and demons.

I was able to tell my one brother on the phone I have no resentment towards him. The other brother is very difficult to talk with as he is still living in the past. My father is dead. My son Adam is, I don't know where. The last I knew he was homeless in Detroit once again. I have forgiven them all and I will never have a relationship with any of them. I always thought forgiveness meant approval of the actions, it does not. Forgiveness has cleansed my heart and for that I am very grateful. Forgiveness also means I no longer have to carry "it" around and I no longer need to be a victim. Do I need to "get even" with the abuser and name names and call out sins? Not today I don't and my heart is over-flowing with love.

One of my greatest gifts is called Trisha

2009-09-22T07:34:00.000-07:00

One of the best gifts I received in my life was my daughter, Trisha. I know every parent says their kid was the best of all but Trisha was and is. As a baby she was always happy and very quiet. She loved playing alone and never woke me. I had her crib in my room and I would open my eyes in the morning there she was sitting in her crib smiling at me. I was in awe of this little girl and deeply in love with her.

When she was around three years old she wanted to learn how to read. She was very sure she could figure out reading so, I read to her all the time. I even got so I would read my novels out loud for her. She didn't care what I read just so long as I read to her. I could see the magic in her eyes as she started to learn words. We would sound them out and we would look them up. To her it seemed to be a great treasure hunt. One of her gifts to me was exploring words and meanings.

We always had structure in our home. Spiderman was her favorite TV show and came on at four o'clock in the afternoon. So I would tell her around 3:30 P.M. it is almost time for Spiderman. She would pick up her toys so nothing would interfere with her show. After Spiderman Daddy came home and we ate dinner, at the table and then bath and then... Books were read. Sometimes Daddy would read Louis L' Amour novels about cowboys to her. Daddy's favorite books were the Sackett series and soon became Trisha's favorite.

Her brother Adam became her "audience" to read to. Then along came James and the boys would giggle and clap when Trisha read to them. She wanted to teach them to read but both were too rowdy to sit still very long. She would not give up on them and tried everyday to teach them words. So we started learning a new word everyday at the dinner table. We would look it up and use it in sentences. It does not surprise me in the least that Trisha is an English teacher.

When Trish became a teenager she decided she wanted a job at McDonald's. Off she went on her own to apply for a job. The manager told her she was too young but to come back when she was old enough. She would stop in periodically and remind him when her birthday was. And, lo and behold, she started working on her birthday! Trisha made the biscuits back when the kids had to be at work at 4:00 a.m. and really make the biscuits! Sometimes she would close and then be back in few hours to open up. She loved working at McDonald's.

By now I was a single parent and was raising three kids on little more then minimum wage. Trisha started helping with groceries. At first she would bring home dinner once a week. What a great help to me that was but she didn't stop there. Soon she wanted to pay me "room and board". I know most of her check must have gone to help our family out. She never complained about having to buy her own senior pictures, class ring and stuff. It seemed to me she felt it was an honor.

Trisha has always worked and gone to school. Her interests are so varied it took her forever to declare and a major and stick to it. She now has a masters a degree. She did it all working in the fast food industry while she went to school. She also took on marriage and motherhood. She is married to a reader and their son is a reader. I think fun to them is when a new book comes out and they wait in line at midnight for it to go on sale.

We lived apart for many years and I rarely got to see her and her family. We live closer now and we have seen each other more in the last few months then in the last 20 years. I am so very honored to get to know her, her husband and her son. To this day when I look in her eyes she smiles and my heart melts. I am so in awe of the woman she has become, Trisha is without a doubt one of my heroes and a great mentor.

Gifts From My Mother

2009-09-15T12:55:00.000-07:00

Fall always makes me think of my mom. She loved fall the best of all seasons and she loved to go get apples from every orchard in the county. She loved the leaves, the smells, the way the air felt and she gave that love to me. Mom gave me many gifts over the years and I am grateful I was able to share that with her before she left earth school. This is part of a letter I sent Mom on one Mother's Day. (Picture is of Mom and baby me)

Dear Mom,

I want to thank you for the many gifts you given me over the years. Not the material things that wear out or get put in a box somewhere but the real gifts of love. Do you remember watching the "Wizard of Oz" and eating popcorn drenched in butter and "sticky spoon fudge"? (Mom could never get fudge right) Those things taught me to enjoy movies and the "goofs" in life.

Do you remember reading "The Quick Running Squash", "The Teeny Tiny Woman", and the "Snow Princess" to me? I do like it was yesterday. Thank you for reading so many stories with all the drama and feelings you could. It brought the books to life and taught me to enjoy reading and drama. I can still hear you reading, "I think I can , I think I can".

I used to love watching you play that old beat up piano we had when I was 6 or 7 years old. I can remember your fingers jumping all over the keyboard playing boogies and you played such wonderful melodies like "Rhaspsody in Blue". You sang a lot and some pretty silly songs, too. The radio or the records were always on. You listened to everything, Bach, Hank Williams, Elvis, Frank Sinatra and the Beatles. I could never ever thank you enough for the gift of music. Music has always been my best friend and it is always there for me in my darkest times and the best times.

You also gave me the gift of sitting still. I sit out in my yard and watch the birds, the river and the roses grow. I watch the ants go marching by with their prize morsel of food. I watch the butterflies and the breeze gently blow in the birch trees. And if I am really lucky and sit very still a garden snake slithers by in the grass. In winter I sit very quiet and I can hear the snow falling. A lot of people don't know you can hear a snowflake but I do because you taught me. And I still make at least one snow angel every year. I do all that with a deep appreciation of nature and a real sense of God the Father.

How do I ever thank you for giving me so many wondrous gifts? They say the best way to thank someone is to pass it on, I have done that. Your gifts to me are now spanning the generations to my children and my grandchildren. When my children and grandchildren all came home in March one of the first things we did was get out the old books and I read to them, we played the stereo, popped popcorn and sang silly songs and told spooky stories.

I know many years from now when you and I are long forgotten these gifts will live on in my family thanks to you. I love you Mother, not because I have to, but because I want to. Just like your gifts... You didn't have to.

Love,

Linda

My Grandmother, the Greyhound Bus and Crocheting

2009-09-10T08:35:00.000-07:00

I spent the other day emailing back and forth with my cousin Sally. We really do not know each other very well because I grew up in Michigan and she grew up in California. The other day was the first time we have ever communicated with each other. We had one thing in common, a tremendous love for our Grandma. I was the lucky one, Grandma lived in Michigan. Sally and I spent the day talking about our families and our Grandma.

Life was so easy back in the 1950's and 1960's. We lived exactly 100 miles from my Grandma's house. Starting at 8 years old I was allowed to take the Greyhound bus alone to Grandma's town. The bus stopped along the way for snacks or lunch and the bus driver would have me sit at his table. When we reached my destination, there was my Grandma peaking through the open door of the bus. I was so so happy to see her (It still brings tears to my eyes). Those trips made me feel so important. I went on the weekends a lot and spend most of the summers at her house. (The picture is of Grandmother)

I don't remember watching TV much at Grandmas' but I do remember sitting in "my" recliner next her recliner. She would knit and crochet all day long and I would sit for hours watching her. She made so many afghans, to this day I wonder how many she did make. I was never bored, I was happy to just sit in the same room with her. When I was a little older she taught me to crochet. She said, "If you can make a slip knot and follow directions, you can crochet."

I made who knows how many granny squares from her left over yarn. She had an oval red vinyl ottoman and we kept my crochet supplies and granny squares in it. I felt so special sitting there crocheting with Grandma and having my very own supplies and ottoman. I am so grateful my mother saved that ottoman for me. I still have my ottoman and when I open it I can still smell my grandma. I often wonder what happened to all the granny squares I made but I am so honored to have my ottoman.

Son arrived in Iraq - One year to go.

2009-09-04T11:06:00.000-07:00

My son made it to Kuwait or Iraq or someplace over there. He was able to post on his Facebook page and then he was gone. I miss him already.

Jim is the youngest of three. His dad and I were divorced shortly after his first birthday. Not having a man in the house make him a stronger person. He always had good male role models, not because of anything I did, he put them in his life on his own. These men were teachers, fathers of friends, and men he knew through a club I was a member of and Grandpa. They were Marines, Army vets, auto mechanics and even an astronaut! The astronaut sent him pictures of planes that had been declassified. Those pictures were his pride and joy. (The picture is from an airshow in California.)

I will never forget the day I felt his pain of all pains. It was when the space shuttle crashed. I knew he was crushed and in shock. I let him stay home from school so he could watch the news feeds. It was the first time I couldn't kiss away his hurt or put a cold cloth on it. The true gift of parenting, I have learned, is not just holding them when they hit a homerun but holding them when they strikeout.

Jim always wanted to be in the Army Infantry and he always wanted to live in Texas. It is all he talked about as a boy. Today his home is in Texas and he is in the infantry 15 plus years. I wonder how many men actually live the dreams of their boyhood? He is a self-made man for sure and he should feel great pride in his accomplishments.

Julie, Julia, Worry and Where is Spell Check?

2009-09-01T12:54:00.000-07:00

I saw the movie "Julie and Julia" the other week. I thought I need something like that to busy my days. I tend to eat out of boredom and stress and I need to loose 35 pounds. So, I think throwing a pound or two of butter a day in the mix is probably not a good idea for me. Most people that know me know a bottle or two of wine, although welcome, is an even worst idea.

For today I will journal. I have never kept a journal for any length of time so who knows how this will go? Many people over the years, therapists, sponsors, friends and the like, have all suggested that I journal. I have gotten beautiful journals, cute journals and plain old journal journals as gifts. I have bought the perfect journal many times. I even have the perfect pencil and pen sets but I just don't "do it".

I get hung up on my grammer or worst my spelling. And frankly, my brain types faster then my fingers are able to move. To top all that off, my sister and my daughter are english majors. I always worry my emails, birthday cards and anything at all I have written (except checks) will come back with red marks all over it. Good Lord, they may even demand I diagram my sentences!

The grammer thing started with my maternal grandma. She demanded correct english and even had an "ing" box, If one said fishin' or huntin' a nickel had to be put in the "ing box". From there downline to my mom. Mom didn't even allow babies to talk baby talk. Nope the baby had to ask for "water" not "wa-wa". None of that damaged me of course, just my ability to write stuff. And I always fancied myself a writer as a career. However, one has to write to be published!

An American hero calls me Mom

2009-08-31T16:01:00.000-07:00

It is August 31, 2009 and my youngest son, S/Sgt James S. is leaving to go fight a stupid war in Iraq. This will be his second tour. His oldest daughter celebrated her 15th birthday two days ago. I hope and pray he returns on her 16th to tell her in person "Happy Birthday". (He has 5 little girls and beautiful wife.)

I seemed to take his first tour in stride, I worried but not too bad. What I did was, spend an hour every morning and did nothing but worry about Jim. Then when I felt overwhelmed during the day I reminded myself I already worried today. (Well it kinda worked)

I will forever remember the day the Army called me and told me my son was on his way to the hospital. His vehicle was blown up by an IED. Jim had called me already and told me what happened and told me the Army was going to call and he was OK. When they did call it was like Jim never called me, I was terrified. The Officer who called got his 1st name wrong, called him Justin. I corrected him but he continued like he was a recording and I wasn't there (Now that sounds like a good country song. lol). There was a part of me that thought no not my Jim he got the name wrong, called the wrong Mom.

The picture is of the actual truck he was riding in. James was the front passenger, his driver and backseat passenger had minor injuries. How "lucky" were these men? James claims my dad is his angel watching over him. That would be fitting as my dad was in love with the Army. In James eyes, Grandpa was "ten feet tall and bullet proof."

So for the rest of today, as he flies to Iraq, I will worry. Maybe even cry a little. Heck maybe it is my age or whatever but I really am scared this time. We got "lucky" last time just some minor injuries and oh yeah the closed head injury thing? No big deal the Army bought him a Palm Pilot so he wouldn't forget to "show-up".