Sometimes you just need to talk to a 3-year-old so you can understand life again…
Hope is what happens when you first see a light,
Just a distant, small star in the darkest of night.
Hope is what happens with the first buds of spring,
When dawn touches the sky or a bird spreads its wings.
Hope is what happens when a wound starts to heal,
Whether skin deep or soul deep, you begin to feel real.
Hope is what happens when you’re poor but not broken.
There’s a goldmine of dreams still yet to be awakened.
Hope is what happens when someone is kind,
A feeling not lost, just misplaced in your mind.
Hope is what happens when war turns to peace,
After everyone prayed that the fighting would cease.
Hope is what happens with the smell of fresh rain,
When your long drought of dreams is renewed yet again.
Hope is what happens when clouds finally clear.
Troubled thunder falls silent, courageous whispers you hear.
Hope is what happens when fresh bread is baking,
And what hungers your heart will someday stop aching.
Hope is what happens when kindling ignites.
You rediscover your passion that burns day and night.
Hope is what happens when the pain eases a bit,
And deep down inside, you find your true grit.
Hope is what happens as long as we breathe,
For although it takes time, the sorrow will leave.
Hope is what happens long after the pain…
Hope is what happens, again and again…
~ Catherine DeVrye
“You wanted to disappear – but you made yourself notorious.”
The more I try to blend in and go unnoticed, the more I seem to stand out even in the biggest of crowds! Why does it feel like everyone is staring at me? Is it just my anxiety or am I being checked out or sized up by everyone in the room? Sometimes I believe my life would be so much simpler if I was stupid and ugly. Instead, I’m stuck having to duck and dodge the superficial and always be on guard for the possible stalker. It’s as if these men descend on me like prey and I must discern who has what kind of intentions with me. I have honestly had to deal with being stalked for most of my life adult life. I don’t understand it. But thank God, I was blessed with a super power that has always protected me. Wanna know what it is?
I listen to my intuition. It’s probably the only time I don’t hesitate for a second if I’m told to take action. I’ve been blessed with knowledge that I must keep to myself because I know it doesn’t make a single bit of sense. My friends already know I’m a little different so I don’t need to add any fuel to the “crazy” fire. My satisfaction comes when all the puzzle pieces start fitting together and my intuition wins once again. In 38 years, its never failed me. There are times when I wish I could turn it off so I wouldn’t be constantly reading a person while I’m interacting with them. I dissect the conversation as I connect their movements, small or large, to assign meaning through every aspect of the language used, whether spoken or body.
See, just that makes someone go, “what?” I don’t usually talk about this but I figured it fit with the addition of a new bonafide stalker to my life. I go to meetings for a 12-step program which shouldn’t be a secret to anyone. I met this guy at a meeting and he used the crazy card to get my attention. We started talking and I gave him a couple rides after the meetings. Now he’s involving other members to tell him when I’m at a meeting. So far I haven’t run into him but I know I will eventually. Handling these situations is a delicate process that I’ve had to use on a number of occasions.
- Don’t try to avoid them. Let them come to you and they will.
- Come up with a reason why you blocked their number. My go-to excuse is that “I started seeing someone and I didn’t feel right talking with guy friends that are as close as we have gotten.”
- Apologize for cutting them out of your life so abruptly.
- Assure them that you still have their number and if things don’t work out with the other guy, he’ll get a call.
- Stand your ground and don’t communicate with them no matter what.
This is just one scenario that keeps them at a distance hopefully. I have tons more if that one doesn’t work. It’s somewhat of a positive art form that I’ve created out of something so clearly negative. So I’ll just keep failing at my efforts to blend in and I pray that everyone is happy and safe this evening…
Mother’s Day is probably one of the most difficult days of the year for me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to spend a moment in time with my mom today. Losing her was like losing my whole sense of self. Looking at each other was like looking into a two-way mirror.
Without trying, my mom raised a daughter who shares most of her best and worst qualities. I give her all the credit for my ability to love unconditionally without boundaries or limits. She instilled most of the values I will always live by such as honesty and compassion for others.
I will forever hold dear to my heart the way we continually switched off as the caregiver throughout the years. On the other hand, I definitely got my “crazy” from my mom. You can only imagine some of the epic blowouts we had when our “crazy’s” would collide.
As I get older, the questions I wish I could ask her continues to grow. I guess that’s one of the worst parts of losing your mom at such a young age. She was only 54 years old when she passed away but they say only the good die young, right? It’s what I choose to believe. Just like I choose to believe she’s always looking down and protecting me as one of my guardian angels.
The one thing I miss the most right now is some good old country cruisin’. I would love to climb into a dusty old pick-up with the windows rolled down and a spot for my bare feet on the dash. I remember back when I was younger and the country boys were all around. I’d snatch one up and just drive. The gravel roads would twist and turn and lead to nowhere. At least, I never made it anywhere but farther from civilization. By nightfall, I’d be completely lost in the country somewhere and have no clue how to get back home. That’s why I love the country boys. I could just drive with no destination or place to go and they’d just guide me back to town when the sun was going down. No matter what, we always made it home by dark. I miss those days.
“There would be no need for love if perfection were possible. Love arises from our imperfection, from our being different and always in need of the forgiveness, encouragement and that missing half of ourselves that we are searching for, as the Greek myth tells us, in order to complete ourselves.” ~ Eugene Kennedy