Flaming June's Love

Andy- this is our wedding song. I was watching tv this morning about the young lady that was kidnapped many years zago and just found, I was sad and thinking about my girls. He saw me sad and put this song on for me. He is My Life..... I loved you more. My Mom- When I was a little girl my MOm would play her records. The record player was in the living room and when my Dad wasnt home she would have a marathon. I would sit on the floor and look at all the record covers. I examined every inch and detail. I had never seen any broadway shows, nor had I any idea what the words meant but boy I knew all the words strung together. Singing my heart out about Lipshitz, and "he had it coming!" My Mom used to vhs MTV videos that she liked and then when it was quiet she would push play and listen to her favorite stuff!!! No wonder we all love music and a good dance.

OK so this is an image might take a while but here goes. Have you ever seen a cartoon of someone holding onto a hose with lots of pressure inside it which in turn whips and snakes the holder all about. Almost as if it were alive and trying to shake the holder loose? Why doesnt the person just let go? Dont they realize that the pressure is too great and they are not going to regain control, just continue to get whipped about? Why hold on so long? I have images of holding on too long, which in turn is only beating me up more for no purpose than to say I didnt "give up". Some instances I just cant let go. I cant let go. You cant make me. I enjoy the ride I guess. Like he a%%hole Dr. Phil says "Hows that working for Ya?" Its not working for me, but what is the alternative? The unknown truly is worse than the reality. 10 things I want to do before I die. 1. Sleep outside, in a sleeping bag, under the stars. 2. Sit in a pub and drink beer with strangers. 3. Go the g...

There is no time line, just TIME. The pictures are from the spot my Dad wanted his ashes spread. Mom and I went last week to take a peek and possibly purchase a tree in his memory at the hole on the golfcourse. OK so this is your view Dad. I hope that you see it more than once a day from your vantage point. I held up the camera and clicked away. I wanted to see you somewhere in the shadows of the trees, in the patterns of grass, or flight of birds. I didnt see you. I did see a beautiful spot of earth. I saw why you loved it so much and why you would want this to be a final resting place for you. Although your "dust" or "parts" are not there, I believe there was a wisp of your spirit in the air. That is ok for me. Ill take it. It is now a place to go for you. Someplace that I finally feel you ARE. I'll be visiting again real soon.

The time is here again. The fist time I did this I thought that by this time I would be soooo used to the "letting go" part. I probably would have been. But so much has changed in the year and half since Allie came home from college. I have come to know her. To say we are without our difference would be a lie. We bicker and twist with one another almost everyday. But I also know she is my line to reminding me "Im ok" I have to again let go and let it happen. Just lay back and let Life move. forward. She is only two hours away and I know with Kendall in her heart at this point she will be home often enough. I feel anticipatory preemptive cryfest. I am doing it when no one is looking. I am doing it with my eyes closed, my heart beating and with a tighter grip on my Missi and Jack. I want to let go, and smile. I am practicing as we speak. I am letting go right now, right now.... ok Ill let go... in the morning.

So 1460 days have passed since my "last day". August 18th 2005 started out as a day to be happy our boy would be coming home the next day from the hospital. He was small and a little bit stingey in the breathing department when he first arrived, but he was all around ready to go. I had breast fed him around 3 pm that day. My milk was just about fully in so I was feeling some relief about that. By 5 I wasn't feeling very well I had been having some concerning symptoms but wrote them off as indigestion and gas form the c section. My pressure was elevated but no one else seemed terribly concerned and I was totally into our new boy... so. The rest of the story is starting to become foggy. I plan on writing it all out real soon. I know there are some oddities that I need to definitely write somewhere, I just had too good of a day to rehash it all now. I was thinking the other day that I needed or wanted to write all the good things I have had, done, seen, enjoyed since...

Why I was sitting in an Algebra class when I would never ever use the information was beyond me. I sat at the desk with the "not wood", yet "not plastic" writing surface. It was easily scratched since the thin veneer could be removed with the clip of an ink pen. I never wrote anything into it since, I never had much to say to the High School population. The desk held commentary concerning the teacher standing in the front of the class. According to the desk she was a shithead. I didnt see it myself, she seemed nice enough, a friendly smile, new slipper ballet shoes and obliged me by never calling on me. I had just returned from my mid morning smoke break. I would leave every class and meet Amy by the blue door for a 3 minute Parliament. We created smoke breaks as Sophomores in HS. Ten minutes into every new class we would sheepishly ask for a bathroom pass, since neither of us were notorious we received our pass and clogged our way to the second blue door, ...