Forgiveness

    For the longest time... maybe forever... I've struggled with the subject of forgiveness. I have resented people and harbored such animosity toward experiences and situations that it almost seemed certain that I'd never understand or achieve forgiveness. I laughed at the idea. Felt like it was ABSOLUTELY ABSURD that I could shrug off the way I'd been treated by people, especially when it felt so undeserved.

    And then I went for a drive last night. I went for a drive and I talked, out loud, to myself in order to sort through all of the negativity that I couldn't let go of. I named each of my archnemeses aloud and listed out WHY they bothered me so much... I started from the bottom of the totem pole and worked my way up to who I thought would've been sitting on the very top... and I started that sentence with "and how do I forgive my mother?" And I took 5-10 minutes to just be so angry... to play things over in my mind, all the retold stories, all the hurt feelings, all of the toxic behaviors, the vicious cycles... and...

    

    The common denominator in EVERY scenario that I could never see, was me. The flood gates opened. I took a deep breath and said it aloud, over and over and over... "I forgive me." I forgive myself for being too young to know better at the time. I forgive myself for not knowing, so I allowed it to continue. It was amazing the weight that was lifted, and the vision that I could see when that realization unfolded. All those archnemeses... I owed them the apology. The thing with my mother... I forgave her long ago. I just had to put myself in a place where I don't have to continue forgiving her because she continues to hurt me. The end goal was always to forgive myself. 

    I drove an extra few miles after that... talking to my inner child... Reassuring her that I was always with her... I was there when she got married... I was there when she thought she was alone. I was there when she had her babies... It sounds silly - but it was such a comforting, therapeutic place that I went to last night in my mind and in my heart. Now, to focus on cleaning up after this emotional storm. It's been a few years! Silver linings do exist... I have found my forgiveness.

The Chords of the Heart

    My husband took me to see Celine Dion once... in Paris! We were still newlyweds. In fact, if I remember correctly, it was my first anniversary gift. He paid the big bucks to get us up close, and I was starstruck. It felt like there wasn't anyone else in that theater but the two of us. I stared with my mouth open, not sure if I took a breath during the whole concert. Then she sang "All By Myself." There was a part in the song where the music fell away and she hit that high note and those words pierced my soul and I sobbed! She was singing about me and my life and all I'd let go of to gain all that I had. She touched the chords of my heart and that is such a rare and amazing feeling!

    Tonight, my best friend and I spontaneously made a plan to go to the movies and see A Man Called Otto. Again, tonight, the chords of my heart were touched in that rare and amazing way and I sobbed beside her and with her and it was such an incredibly heartbreaking but refreshing moment that breathed new life into my friendship with her. As I sat, watching that movie, I felt what she was feeling... all of the pained grief that she is facing after having lost her parents this year. I sat, feeling MY pain, my shame at being angry with my grieving friend for not noticing me. I saw parts of the movie that strummed memories and those butterflies from the old days floated up and drank the tears on my cheeks. There was a moment in the movie that reminded me to never turn a blind eye to someone else in order to focus on myself... And in that final scene in the movie when the biggest grief of all hit the both of us, I sobbed out loud next to her and tried really hard not to feel what we were both feeling but I think it was a wake up call that needed to be heard... that feelings need to be felt. That it's ok to cry. That we have each other, and our friendship will never die.

    Rare is the friendship that can withstand the test of time. I pray I always remember and honor how blessed I am to have her in my life.

Sweet 16

I can remember specifically, a time when you were playing with a 3.5 yr old Stevie outside Shawn and Rachael's house in Shreveport and I was silently panicking inside because what if I submitted my independence to you?... what if I allowed you to love me?... What if Stevie, this little girl that you clearly loved so much, became a part of your life and somewhere down the line I changed my mind and we walked away and it broke your heart?

I can remember 6/26/06. That was the day I almost suffocated at work. I sat at my computer and thought back to those lines on the carpet that your suitcase had left after the first time you went back to Paris... and in split second flashes all those memories we made in such a short time and how much my soul devoured you...and how much I still yearned for you... and I felt like I was losing you before I ever even had you. I gasped for air as my fingers clutched my desk and I couldn't get home fast enough to ask you to make the decision "all or nothing?" I remember you said that you couldn't let it turn to nothing so "oui, I'll jump."

I can remember the exhaustion I felt after getting to our hotel room in Germany in August of 06. The LONG flight... the fear and uncertainty of the unknown. The safety of a warm room and a locked door and sleep on the horizon... and as exhausted as I was, I opened the door and saw you there and my whole world was instantly better. 

I looked forward to every weekend until we were married. Every Saturday hike... every Sunday castle. Every moment, spent with you.

I remember our wedding day. Cold, and foggy... but oh how proud I was to have your mom and sisters insist on being there, no matter the time or the day. How nervous I was at the "official" nature of the ceremony... whispering "I do" because if I said it any louder the vibrations in my throat would certainly release the lump and the tears would flow. 

I remember with great detail every pregnancy.... every childbirth... every house we've lived in. Every pet we've owned. Every job we've had. Almost as if 16 years was just a breath, and here we are again. And while our marriage hasn't been sunshine and rainbows EVERY day.... the storms have never been enough to block out the sun for very long.

I can say, without a doubt, that I'm one of the lucky few. I found my soulmate in you. I love you! Happy Anniversary!

The Broken Heart That Stays

                 As a child, I didn’t have many friends. I was awkward, raised by lower/middle class parents. An only child who didn’t wear the clothes or shoes branded by popular names like Tommy Hilfiger or even Levi’s! I went to school with kids whose parents had some money. They were from wealthy ranching or oilfield families and they set the bar when it came to what was considered popular or not. I was often bullied for what I wore, how my hair was styled, and even…. If I happened to get the “puke tray” at lunch. I often sat alone. I couldn’t wait to get home because my true friends waited for me there. The 4 legged friends who loved me unconditionally, waited for me patiently, and celebrated my arrival each afternoon!

                I can’t tell you how many pets I’ve owned. Sambo the blue heeler. Shadow the aussie mix. Flash was a black lab. Sugar was a poodle, Socks a mutt. I had at least TWO black cats named Spooky. I had a tabby named Panda. A Siamese named Shakey. Mayatuk was a malamute, Tuiak a husky. Zeus was another black cat. I had an angora goat for a short time – forgot his name. Heidi was a cockatiel, Lucy was a sun conure. We had another parrot, also a name I can’t remember…. I even had a fish (Dragon) that I had a special bond with. Hamsters. Rabbits. I played with wild lizards and attempted to rehabilitate wild birds.

                For the last 17 years, I had the absolute privilege of sharing my life with a small white cat named Athena. Stevie was only 2 when I decided she needed a kitten to grow up with. So we found a lady in Shreveport, LA who had a litter and we went to pick one out. I don’t know what exactly led to us settling for Athena, but we did and we took her home. She was tiny – and feisty (at all the wrong times.) I was a single mother, and this mischievous kitten was running zoomies and attacking my feet at 0230 in the morning when ALL I needed was sleep so I could get up and get Stevie and myself ready for daycare and work the next day! One afternoon, I came home and could smell cat urine and noticed a wet spot in the middle of my bed. I was furious, and my patience was worn so thin. I kicked her out. Opened the front door and set her out and closed the door behind her. I was done. A short time later there was a knock at the door and it was the neighbor asking if a little white kitten belonged to us. So… she was back. For good.

                In early 2006, I had to deploy to Diego Garcia. Zeus and Athena went to stay with a guy in Dallas while I was gone. That short stay turned into a year because I received orders to Germany and had to worry about moving household goods and the two of us overseas! FINALLY, December of 2006…. Nico, Stevie and I drove to Frankfurt to the airport and retrieved my furbabies. I truly believe they remembered us and were so happy to FINALLY be home.

                Athena loved life in Europe. We had these amazing wall radiators and they sold cat beds that sort of folded over the top of them so she was more than happy to curl up and enjoy the warmth. Wide windowsills allowed her the perfect views from our third floor apartment. But most of all, she enjoyed being the nanny. When Ava and Victoria were born, she was always nearby to lick up any spilled milk. And when I deployed, she’d alternate which of the kids’ pillows she slept on, to keep an eye over them until I came back home.

                Sometimes I wonder if people get as attached to animals as I did to mine. I don’t see a dog or a cat when I look into the eyes of my furries. I see my best friends. I see unconditional love staring back at me. (Well…. Maybe not Phoenix. He only loves me when food’s involved.) So it isn’t any wonder that my heart is absolutely broken after having lost my sweet sidekick this past Monday.

                Athena has been in a bit of pain for some time. I knew that at 16/17 years of age, she’d start slowing down. I’d googled what to expect at the end of the journey so I could prepare myself when the day came. My good friend was always a sound word of advice and strong support when it came to decision making. I ALMOST made the call too soon, but the first vet said she was still looking ok for being so old so I called it off! The second time resulted in a dental, some awesome bloodwork results, but an iffy tumor in her jaw. The third time…. Was the last time.

                I’d watched Athena’s face slowly grow after her tooth extraction. The vet had warned me that it might possibly be cancer because the mass was very firm (felt like bone.) It didn’t concern me until it started spreading across the entire bottom of her jaw and my worst fear was that it would make breathing difficult for her. She would paw at her mouth after eating just a bit so I knew it had to be painful. I thought back to my aunt who fought her own battle with oral cancer and how she’d tell me that just talking on the phone was extremely painful. I’d told the kids to love Athena a little extra, because I’d be taking her soon – at the last minute. I didn’t want to schedule a specific day and then spend a week counting down her lasts. It was unbearable enough as it was.

                So this past Monday, I went to work as usual. I told myself that “today will be the day.” Reminded myself all day that it’s going to be so hard, but that I’m doing it for her because she doesn’t deserve to suffer. I worked my shift and came home and found her sleeping in the middle of Ava’s bed. I went to the kitchen and got a small bowl and cut open one of her treats and squeezed it into the bowl and gave that to her. I freshened up her leftover canned food and made sure she was content with a happy tummy. I brushed her (she LOVED brushes!) and didn’t stop until her body language told me she’d had enough. She curled back up on the bed and slept.

                I’d already spoken to the vet the previous week and she said to bring her in around 245pm on any day… the clinic would be quieter because that was during her surgery hours. It was only 145pm. So I cleaned. Furiously. I made all the beds and started the laundry and took out the trash and loaded the dishwasher. And I cried. Oh my, I cried. And every 5 minutes I’d go stand in Ava’s doorway and look at my girl sleeping on the bed and I’d cry some more. And I took pictures. And I apologized. And when it was 230pm, I got the cat carrier down from the closet and loaded her up and we went.

                I won’t write the details of her final hour in life. Those are things I wish to forget. But a chunk of my broken heart will always be in that room, on that table. I pet her for as long as possible and reassured her over and over and over that everything would be ok. Now, I’m praying with ALL my being that I will see her again someday, beyond the rainbow bridge. 

                Some people say they don’t want pets because they want to avoid this heartache. For a brief moment in the last few days, I thought that maybe they were right. But then I look into the eyes of Phoenix, Ledger and Logan and I see the love that they provide (and ask for in return) and I couldn’t imagine life without that. I guess the solution is finding a way to live with the broken heart that stays.

The Truth & The Light

I took a drive tonight, specifically to speak to God. I have a good friend whose husband is fighting for his life and he’s officially the first person I know to have it this bad and I’m lost in how I feel and what to believe. I’m terrified that I could be next… or Nico. I worry about one of us being left behind with all that it takes both of us to accomplish. It’s an unimaginable feeling and my heart is absolutely broken for my friend.

 

I left the music off in the car and I drove forward, down the street… a lump in my throat and tears welling in my eyes and when I reached the first stop sign I took a deep breath and asked “God, what do I do?” I could sense that He needed more clarification so I let it all out…. “I’m terrified Lord! I don’t know what to believe. The media… the experts… science… my friends… my coworkers…” and He said to me “Do you realize that not once have you asked me for guidance? You’ve allowed all of these other avenues to populate your mind, but never once have you reached out to me for guidance. Look around at all the others who are relying on science and social media and the news and the experts, and what have I always told you? Do not be afraid, for I am the truth, and the light.”

I was stunned. I continued “But what about the vaccine, Father? Is it good for me? Should I take it? I’m afraid… I don’t want to take it, but if my job makes it mandatory I could lose my job…” and I could hear Him telling my heart to do what I believe… not to be afraid for He is with me. He is the truth, and the light. He will provide.

 

“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.”

Fourteen

1998: I searched for guys from Paris, France on the internet.... and fell in love with a guy wearing a camo jacket and a red beret. There was something in his serious face.... something hiding in his eyes that I had to get to know. We talked every day until I left for the military in 2000, and we lost touch when my life changed paths.

2002:  I bought a laptop and struggled to remember that French boy's screen name! Alas, I took a stab at it and sent a message, and he remembered me. We picked up talking where we left off.... as if no time at all had passed.

October 2005:  Nicolas came over for 2 weeks. We celebrated Halloween together, my birthday, and he was my date to my Airman Leadership School graduation. When he left, he took my heart with him. I sat on the floor where his suitcase had been and traced the lines in the carpet with my finger while I sobbed. I was homesick for him.

December 2005: Nicolas came back :) We spent Christmas together. 

January to May 2006: I deployed to Diego Garcia. We kept in touch via internet and snail mail. He'd made plans to come back to the US when I got home from deployment. 2 more weeks together. While deployed, I put in for orders to Germany (and got them!) I figured if we were going to make a go of our relationship, it would be easier if we were closer, geographically.

May 2006:  He proposed to me in the front yard of my Aunt Vicki's house. He knew this was my favorite place in the world and he tried hard to make it special. Things were rough, emotionally, and I just couldn't say yes with confidence yet. So I said "not yet."

August 2006: Stevie and I moved to Germany. At the end of a very long day of travel, I opened the door to see Nicolas standing on the other side. He had promised to be there for me - and he has been ever since! 

September 2006: An engagement ring on my finger. 

?? 2006: Not sure exactly when, but Nicolas quit his job in Paris and moved in with me in Germany. 

December 29, 2006: We were married at the city hall in Speicher, Germany. His mom and sisters made the trek to be with us (they insisted!) The weather was foggy and gray and seemingly miserable - but my whole life came together that day. 

It's been 14 years. Being married to my soulmate is as effortless as breathing. It's not always easy. We do drive each other nuts, occasionally! BUT... I have always had pride in our ability to communicate. We make an amazing team. My life, having grown up in Sonora, TX.... has turned into this magical world of experiences and discoveries - getting to travel to so many places and see/do so many things. It wasn't just Uncle Sam who made that possible - but my husband as well. I thank God for placing him in my life, to teach me and open my eyes to all the things I have learned since loving him. 

Happy Anniversary, Nicolas Durgeat. You make me, and that is enough. <3

Missing & Lost

I sit down to write. I find some good music on youtube and I let my body feel the words that need to come out and I look at Facebook for a moment before I switch over to Word, and I. Am. Disgusted.

Social Media is the antichrist. Twitter and Instagram and Facebook and any other site of the like.

For starters… simply… Facebook allows us to stay connected to people we were never meant to stay connected to, for life. People are meant to be in our lives either for a reason, a season, or a lifetime. Not ALL people are meant for life. However, social media enables that! It’s not a good thing, no matter how many cute photos and shares brighten our day. We’re frozen in a virtual time warp – never able to move forward because we carry the past with us.

Additionally, let’s look at what is happening right now, today. We’re able to screen capture and copy links and paste links and manipulate photos and stories and MAKE UP things that aren’t true and we share and share and share again and then the entire world is swayed by lies and deceived by all that is constantly thrown in their face on Facebook, and Twitter, and Instagram. Hashtags and videos and petitions and anger and sadness and hurt. Strong emotions! Emotions so strong that they’re driving people into a deep depression, and sometimes worse.

The GOOD part of social media is over. We’ve surpassed catching up with old friends, saying hello, seeing what they look like and how they are now. We’ve surpassed using social media to locate missing family members, abducted children, etc. Social media is now swirling with hate and division and it’s like a cancer feeding our souls.

Take a deep breath and look around…. The race war…. The religion war… the political war… the war on our freedoms in the very heart of the land of the free! Being forced to wear face masks in the name of a bullshit virus that media on the internet is force feeding us EVERY DAY! Fear is alive and hyperventilating in the core of everyone…. And social media is the fuel that is keeping it all burning.

It’s for this reason that I’m going to step back… I’m hurting, grieving for a part of me that is missing and lost and I’m certainly not finding it on the pages of Facebook. I’m not deleting my account, because I use messenger to communicate with friends. I’m simply going to log out for a while because I don’t want to know what this president or former presidents have fucked up. I don’t want to know the latest COVID count. I don’t want to hear about the statues being torn down or the buildings being renamed or for the love of God, that Aunt Jemima is being forgotten because she was black. I don’t want to see more quotes posted by keyboard warriors (and I certainly don’t want to continue being one, myself.) I don’t want to read “thoughts and prayers” anymore because THOSE ARE JUST WORDS on a screen. I want to believe in my heart that there are people out there who think about me, and might actually pray to the real God – not the electronically lit one.

Perhaps… in the midst of my wandering… maybe God will hear my cry and bless us all with a break in the chaos. Lord knows, we need it.

Feel free to shoot me a message on messenger if you’d like to say hi. I’m still here, just over there.