If I Let You In… Please Don’t Break Anything

..

 In San Mateo… in my front yard… I wonder if I never moved who I’d be today… ?

At a very early age, I learned how to put up walls. Probably because… when I was younger, I was always the “new kid.” My dad was up and coming. A Mattel Executive, right when they were introducing Barbie and Hot Wheels. He rode the wave  and then in the 70s he seemed to settle into a computer Company called CSC in El Segundo and remained there for several years as one of their Vice Presidents. When I was nine, we finally landed in a Southern CA Community called;  Palos Verdes Peninsula, where other up and coming daddies also brought their families.

Being a Mattel tester kid was fun. During our first move I met Terri. My first best friend, who ended up being the best thing about all of my dad’s transfers,  (& remained my best friend until she died a few years ago) admitted that she was jealous of me. She told me once, “Your dad went on all of these business trips and always brought you something back.” Little did she know, I was jealous of her. Her dad came home every night and she lived in the same town all of her life.

Palos Verdes Peninsula

 

Maybe it takes a kid with a better backbone to go to four elementary schools before nine, but I never really mastered the art of making friends back then, basically it was just plain awkward, coming in the middle of each school year. And kids can reeeally be mean. In turn, I tried to teach my kids to seek out the underdogs and welcome them into their group. Kids learn how to be bullies at an early age and I feel that if more parents would take the initiative and teach their kids to be more aware of the friendless kids, I think they’d ALL have a head start on becoming amazing adults.

The thing that saved me is that I loved to read and write and I always had Terri.We bought funny stationery and sealing wax and wrote to each other often. And where ever I went, I knew I had a best friend “somewhere.” Who knows if I’d remained across the street, if we’d have stayed best friends or even traveled in the same crowd. But there was something magical for both of us…  To her, I was the girl across the street that traveled all over and for me…  well, she didn’t even know. She just made me not feel so alone in those times of being the new kid and arriving after everyone had already made their friends for that school year.

Looking back as an adult, I see that every circumstance and experience made me into who I am today. And I am grateful for them. But back then it just seemed to suck. I think that is why I only need a few good friends now. And perhaps why I love my blog friends so much. It is a safe place and in my neighborhood here, I rarely have run into a bully. Most show up as the kind of friends I wish I could have found in my elementary school days. And for a magical moment it is just you and me. When I read yours and you read mine.

Vallon Drive… Street I grew up on since Junior High…

Today, I wonder who I’d be if I’d always lived across the street from Terri, and we never moved. I wonder if my kids would be the same kids, or if I might have had a totally different life. All I know is that  I over think things. I scrutinize the whys and try to figure out what makes others tick. I know now that as a kid, when I’d feel as if I wanted to disappear, I really wanted to be found. Though, over the years,  where I used to care, I have learned to not trust that many people. I appreciate people who are honest, those who keep their word, are not judgmental and especially are not bullies. When I was younger, I used to wonder how the bullies would turn out. As an adult, I’ve realized that a lot of people just end up being mean adults. Though a few have surprised me and had the depth to change and we have become good friends. I think that knowing where people came from helps and I don’t think that I could ever not accept an apology.

Over the years, I’ve learned to embrace the adult perspective and move past my insecurities. And I am still a work in progress. An “I LOVE LUCY” episode comes to mind where Lucy thinks that everyone has forgotten her birthday, while in reality Ricky and her friends are waiting at a surprise party for her as she goes out and joins “Friends of The Friendless.” As adults we see the irony in the humor of LUCY. And I think I have grown from that little awkward NEW KID into embracing my friendships…

But…. If I do let you in, please don’t break anything.

Who Am I To Stand In The Way Of Anyone Else’s Grace?

It really is easier

to make it all someone else’s fault.

To be so indignant and load the blame somewhere else.

To get lost in the anger and pain and to go back and forth

never quite figuring any of it out.

I just can’t understand  why it is so hard to just forget…

and get caught up in not knowing where to go with all these feelings.

I have filled my pages with words that sit in archives

not knowing where they belong.

Just storing them and forgetting that they are there

and then re-finding them again.

But when I started this thought and re-found it…

It just was too good to not finish it…

I have been told by someone I care about…

who is the source of a lot of my pain

 that they are falling back on God’s grace.

And I think…

I give up.

 I really need to just let go…

For who am I?

I mean really, who am I…

to stand in the way of anyone else’s  grace?

diane reed

2016©

Letting It Go

As I was waiting for my AOL to kick in, I had to restart it twice. Sometimes I just stop it  mid way of signing on because I know it is not going to do what I need it to do. I reboot it and wahlah it pops on! Such is life… Sometimes I feel like AOL. It takes me a few times, but then I finally “GET’ it!

All of my life, I’ve had certain instances where I know that I have missed a life lesson that I was supposed to get, or at least one that wasn’t supposed to take me so long to grasp, it was so obvious. Recently I have experienced being consumed by my own anger in regard to a wrong doing. Though I am not saying that I was wrong about what had happened. I am saying that sometimes I get so stuck in the negative, that I’ve convinced myself that it feels good down there in the muck and the anger.

Forgiveness just feels much better than anger or harboring ill will or a grudge. And true forgiveness does not need a recount of all the wrongs or even a discussion about what happened. All you need to do is let it go!

The times that I have wasted being offended or angry about something and the release I have felt after forgiving that same offender has been epic. In fact, I have realized that I have more room in my heart for them, sometimes in a much more profound way than others who have not hurt me. Perhaps, because that new love is a gift straight from God and the lesson He has given us over and over in so many examples in His Word.

It is a lesson that I have mostly fought and yet one that impacts me greatly each time, I let go and allow Him to take over. And it blows me away each time, how truly amazing it is that I can’t just go straight to that place rather than fighting it the whole way. Though I think that I have finally mastered the concept. Putting it into practice is still a work in progress.

My first example that I can remember was a childhood friend of my first husband’s though both are gone from this world now, I let my hate for this man consume me. In the end, (to not get too lost into an entirely different story) he became gravely ill, I ended up giving him a Bible, that I had another friend take to him… she told me that he cried, in a split second, I was over it, visited him the next day and we cried in each other’s arms. He survived that illness.  And a supernatural kind of healing took place that day and we had an amazing friendship after that.

Whether it was a misunderstanding with a friend, a neighbor, a co-worker, I have come to terms with the fact that the magic is just in “letting go” not retracing the  words or steps that brought you to this place. (I kind of tend to waste a lot of time obsessing on the wrongs.) But regardless of the gossip or the facts that led you to the negative place, whether it is an actual apology or just a genuine hug. The act of letting go is a little like running around and gathering up all the poison and throwing it away before it harms anyone further. It is only wishing the other person well, and really caring about them so much, that where you literally felt hate just a second prior, it is replaced by a magical kind of love. For, it is in that split second act of forgiveness that you will literally experience the quickest “miracle” that you have ever experienced.

       Proverbs 10:12 Proverbs 15:1  Proverbs 15:18 Proverbs 19:11                                                            Matthew 18: 21-22 Hebrews 10:17

Content Development

It is so funny what a little encouragement can mean for someone. Today I was notified by one of my “Linked” connections that they’d just endorsed me for Content Development. I needed that! As I am finishing my book and as you know, have gotten side-tracked so many times before. I felt that it was almost as if God Himself used (Stefan Maxima)  😉 as HIS vessel to get the message to me to keep going! Though of course I know that we randomly endorse each other as we are on linked and I am sure it was not a specific endorsment that was being selected because of my brilliance  🙂  but it was just that push that I needed.

When I first created this blog, it started out as just a place to write my book that I’d started about a year earlier. Well, I am glad that I got sidetracked because I have been so blessed in the meantime by all of these friendships that I have made with other writers and readers alike. But I feel kind of  like an artist who can never stick to just one project at a time. Do I have ADD? Or am I just creative? When I was self-employed as an artist, I had several projects going at once. Every artist friend I have known has copped to the same crime.  Our art studios have never been very organized. We are not very focused! Or maybe too focused on too many things! But we are definitely not as organized as any of us would like to be! If we were, our art studios would not look like this! (though some are a little more organized than others, we have decided that a true artist has messy art rooms period.) The level of messiness may be indicative of the greater level of creativity…. or not! But it would be nice to believe that! Right?

Though, as you can see here, there are the few weird ones who are actually very creative and talented and organized! They must have issues! 😉

Soooo anywaaay these are either staged photos or… it IS possible! Though I think that I land somewhere in the middle.

Here is a prime example! I know that I should be just writing my book…. but here I am again needing to touch base with my blogging world even though I am at a place of really being on a roll in what I would call content development! Finally! Exactly what Stephan Maxima endorsed me as being able to do. So do it already I tell myself! Instead I feel the clutter in my head and I just want to sit myself in the corner until I focus!

  So now I think that I FINALLY  have a frame and something to put in it! After all of those first drafts. I think that I see the light at the end of the tunnel! Though this is all still a very rough draft, I feel that I have grasped where I am going. Can I say finally again? For those of you who have followed my other blog at Keris Journal:

http://kerisjournal.wordpress.com/2014/06/04/dear-readers-thank-you-for-following-please-find-me-at-httpdianereedwiter-wordpress-com/

I want to share my transition page and would love to hear some feedback from those of you who have followed my transition from my chapters here to the journal on Keri’s journal (another blog I created last year for those of you who are just reading this today) to third person.

 If you care to comment here or…… there>>>> http://kerisjournal.wordpress.com/  I’d be very grateful!

I really was not comfortable sharing this here as my other blog was more ingognito and that was just fine with me. But here it is…

Remember to read this first:

https://dianereedwiter.wordpress.com/2012/10/22/would-anyone-read-this-chapter-one/

So you will know that the above is where it all begins…

Keri and her daughter Brynne decide to clean out their attic to make a study for Keri to write in and she finds a journal that she kept when she was a teenager. The next chapters are of Keri reading the journal to her daughter Brynne, as they find themselves traveling through a time in Keri’s life that she never talked about with her daughter before. As the journal is read, it takes them on a journey of first love, abuse and heartbreak. As the story comes back to current times, Keri uses her story as an opportunity to guide her young daughter who is close to the same age that Keri was when she began writing in the journal. Though there is a twist that no one expected…. with social media so prevalent, the boy who broke Keri’s heart three decades ago, comes back to apologize. But does he want more than just forgiveness?

http://kerisjournal.wordpress.com/2014/06/17/the-next-chapters/

 

Behind The Door Of Yesterday

Behind the doors of yesterday

we all hold that perfect key

unlocking places in our past

where shadows used to be

Dancing upon moonbeams  until all  the music dies

letting go of all the pain as the broken winged one flies…

Falling hard from our dreams, when we finally land

 

searching for our innocence all where we first began.

Diane Reed

2013

As I continue to work on my book, I feel stuck. I am in a place of pain. Of total confusion. I guess ambivalence would be the best word to describe where I have landed. I keep going backwards. I need to start moving forward. I have a story to tell. A lot has to do with my past. I have the framework sitting there for me to build upon and yet I am not sure why I need to write these silly poems that have nothing to do with me today….

Or do they?

Safe Keeping

Like a bruise, my heart has places that…

I don’t want to touch again.

Like paint that never dries

or a story that never ends.

My mind keeps wandering back

and I get lost in the past,

then you come and wake me up

like pushing forward fast!

Snapping me right out of

the nightmare that kept me sleeping,

handing back the heart

you were holding for safe keeping.

Diane Reed

2013

Finding Diane

Soooo remember that song that I was trying to write the lyrics to? A while back a musician friend of mine, Jim

http://nostolencatpictures.com/2013/03/31/music-theory-0031/

  wrote a melody, indicating that he was inspired by the chapters from my book (Pieces of the circle) that I am writing and shared some chapters here. He titled the piece Finding Diane and basically told me that it might  be therapy for me to come up with the words. HOW long has it taken me?

https://dianereedwiter.wordpress.com/2013/02/11/finding-diane/

I think we started in February.  I must say that it has been quite a project. If you have followed me at all… you may have gone to my friend Jim’s archives (above) and listened to the melody. It is epic! I have come up with several lines via original poems that I have posted here separately. I wanted to see how it flowed if I put them all together. So that is what I have done here today.  The cadence is off a bit in a few areas because they were written as separate poems, but it surprised me just how well 3 separate individual attempts seemed to all flow together. I  have left out the pictures which have sort of become my trademark to enhance the words I write. (Though if you want to read them with pictures they are listed all separately in my archives.) Though the poems do sound better separately, it surprised me how they worked together.

Anyway, I don’t expect him to finish our song anytime soon since he is a teacher and has other projects going but he was right. It was therapy and so I title this Finding Diane. If nothing else… the title is coming true!

The song will not require as many lines as are here (way more than he needs) he will need to cut out words here and there and only take the lines that will work… but at least I have given him something to play with for now. I finally feel found!

Well maybe one picture…..

I hear a song and my heart flies away,

I want to snatch it back for it’s gone to yesterday.

The melody wraps around my heart,

though in my head I keep playing the part.

No one can know the pain that I feel,

over a fantasy now, that seems unreal.

And so I pretend that nothing is wrong,

as I try to block out the tune in our song.

But the melody lingers as I push replay,

and wander back into my heart still there, in yesterday.

I dance in the flames as I fall into step

trying to miss the places that made you upset.

The memories make me jump higher and higher,

I feel the sting as I dance past the fire.

The tears bring back the pain that I’d put away,

spinning back into the melody of yesterday.

Like a butterfly trapped, still inside its cocoon,

I dance through my mind running from each room.

As I close the door, where you live in my mind,

I find the part of me that I left behind.

Just like a jewelry box dancer trapped in a box

my heart is inside with the key and its lock.

I had to come back to this place, always heard whispering in my ear…

Oh little girl, somehow I knew I’d still find you here.

Among the memories waiting, wondering if I was coming back

to find the child I left long ago forgotten in my past.

I gather you up and hold you close as we walk through the rooms of our soul,

pieces of you and me once broken, healing and becoming whole.

Looking inside from the child within, I see all the pain you must feel.

Knowing that we must tend to each wound before we truly begin to heal.

We walk through the lonely places that once held our yesterdays

Oh how I wished I’d protected you in so many different ways.

And yet I know that through the hurting, we’ve gained strength in what we’ve learned.

In all the lessons remembered, in all the times once burned,

in every tear we ever cried, and every broken heart,

in every time we were in a crowd, and felt a million miles apart.

we built the walls around our heart and “they” never saw us cry.

We learned that fighting to survive was what we had to do

and so I lost the biggest part of me the day when I lost you.

It’s hard to face the ugly truth and really look inside,

to know I left you all alone, living with the hurts and lies.

You were the child inside of me and I failed you the most,

in the mistakes I made along the way, in the different paths I chose.

But I’ve come back to find you, to finally bring you home.

So that together we can learn to live and never be alone!

I want to find the kid inside, and heal the pain we knew.

I want to learn to love the me, that I forgot to love in you!

And so as I pack up all your things, I have hope in what will be…

As I learn to love you more…

Cuzzzz after all you’re ME!

Diane Reed

2013

                                                                                                          (Hey and Jim try to look past the punctuation errors! LOL)

Chapter Eight

I know that I said that I was not going to post another chapter, but I had some special requests so here is one more.

WARNING: You will probably not understand this chapter… if you have not read the seven chapters posted before this one.

I am going to request one thing… please don’t click LIKE unless you actually have read it. I noticed that as soon as I posted this… I got several LIKES right away. There was no way that anyone could have read this THAT fast! Though I appreciate the support. I really do need real feedback. This is my baby and I am truly serious about it. But don’t get me wrong I LOVE those LIKES when they are truly genuine! Click away! Please!

 Thank you so much for all who take the time to actually read the chapters… you have my heart. To the others,  I understand that your time is valuable and appreciate that you follow me and read other parts of my blog!

Happy New Year!

******Chapter Eight******

Both Jack and Keri worked long hours during the week and cherished their weekends. They fit in as much time together as they could. Instead of being tired at the end of the week they both seemed to have renewed energy. They shared one adventure after another, wrapped up in their new young love and Jack loved introducing Keri to so many new things that she had never experienced or even imagined before. It was like a new high for him watching her learn.

Though they never mentioned the bouts of Jack’s rage after they were over, they always hung heavy in the back of Keri’s mind. They continued to sail but she could not deny the tension she felt each time they would leave the dock.  She dreaded finding herself in another similar situation and would make excuses when he suggested that they take the boat out.

Finally, Keri took it upon herself to be proactive and decided to take lessons. She had seen the signs at King Harbor where they sailed, and so stopped in one day after work to check out the details. She ended up booking  the first few sessions right there on the spot. She paid for them all by herself, figuring that she was making an investment in their future.

She would get up early on the Saturdays that she knew Jack would be working and learned to sail like a pro. She never said a word to Jack as she learned all the terms and how to maneuver the boat in and out of the harbor. He didn’t seem to suspect that she was taking lessons and she never told him about them, because she did not want him to expect too much. Though, he seemed impressed that she was such a “fast learner” and she just smiled and said that he was just a good teacher and he seemed pleased.  And she left it at that.

Jack loved to look at boats and cars. He introduced Keri to them both. They would go to car lots late at night in order to avoid overzealous salesmen and look into the windows of all the latest models.

Jack would run through different options and all of their statistics as Keri listened, impressed at how much he knew about each model.

When boat shows were in the area, he would take her to all of them.  They would spend all day climbing on and off of boat after boat. They both fell in love with one called; The Fiji 41. As they toured the boat, Jack talked about them one day living on a boat like that and almost had her believing that they really would.

Keri knew that Jack was smart, and that he would be successful in whatever he decided to do. She knew without a doubt that someday, he could have whatever he wanted. And if he wanted to live on a boat, they would. Jack loved that Keri believed in his dreams and in him in ways that no one else ever had before and yet he remained suspicious and Keri knew it. She did not know how to break down that last wall of trust but she did not give up.

One day, it was a particularly beautiful Saturday afternoon. Jack’s dad was at work which was not unusual, and Jack had finally stopped working weekends. They had spent the morning messing around and then lay sprawled out on the living room floor reading the paper when Jack suggested that they wash their cars. Keri who would have been just as happy messing around all day on the living room floor, had grown restless after reading each article from the front to the back page,  and jumped up laying the folded paper on the coffee table, thinking that getting out in the fresh air was a fine idea.

As they pulled their cars alongside the building, they took turns hosing each one down, soaping and rinsing playfully, they began throwing sponges at each other, while taking turns with the hose, both spraying the cars and each other. Jack loved that Keri was such a good sport, as he flashed on a time when Maddie stomped off after Jack had playfully gotten her blouse wet. After polishing their cars, they washed Jack’s motorcycle and as they admired their work, Jack suggested that they take a ride. Keri got a pair of cords out of her trunk and ran up to Jack’s apartment to change. She pulled on her pants just as she had promised her mom several months earlier. Soon they were headed towards the ocean, and ended up pulling over to watch some fancy, and very upscale Radio Controlled Sail planes soar over the cliffs of Palos Verdes.

Keri laughed at Jack as he stood with his mouth open, she smiled as she watched his eyes twinkle with such joy. His face looked like a little boy with a new puppy on Christmas morning. He grinned back and closed his mouth. “I have always wanted to do that ever since I was a little kid.” He explained standing in awe as he looked up into the sky. “There’s a place not too far from here, in Lake Elsinore where they have the real things.” He told Keri. She remembered him talking about the  Sail Planes he had read about when he was a little boy, in the National Geographic article She understood now, why he had been so impressed. She watched him watching the planes fly overhead,  and couldn’t resist as she walked up behind him. Wrapping her arms around his waist and whispered in his ear. “So what are we waiting for?!” As she gave him a light squeeze. Jack looked at her and then at his watch. His eyes twinkled as she grinned back at him. They dropped off his bike and hopped into his Triumph Spitfire. Driving with the top down and an eight track of Bread playing all the way to Lake Elsinore, Jack explained more about what to expect. Keri had never seen him so excited.

As they pulled up, they found a mobile home sitting on a dirt field with a few people walking in and out of it while a half of a dozen others wandered around the glider port, looking as if they all had a purpose for being there.. They all seemed very friendly and Keri smiled as they passed a few guys that looked to be familiar with the place and   Jack tipped his chin in greeting as they passed while Keri followed.  Keri thought that they were going to just watch a few take off but before she knew it Jack was paying to go up!

Keri watched the plane take off with Jack in it. When he landed, She watched until the plane rolled out to the chalk line and then ran out to greet him.  As they popped open the plexi- glass over the cock pit, she could see Jack’s expression and it was priceless. He was that young broken boy, finally finding some joy.  Keri enjoyed just getting to be a part of his experience. She had never seen him so happy. That was enough for her to make their ride there worth it. But when he announced, “You are next!”  Keri hesitated. She had never been scared of an adventure. She loved roller coasters and all the E ticket rides at Disneyland but she had read the brochure and saw what the prices had been for just going up. But Jack insisted and when she landed she was equally as hooked. “That was so cool!” she exclaimed as Jack came running out to greet her as she climbed out of the plane.

“I just signed us up for lessons.” he announced. Keri was concerned. She had seen the prices for just a ride up. She knew that private lessons had to be much more and assured him that she would be happy waiting for him while he took the lessons. There was no way that they could afford both of them taking lessons at the same time. But Jack insisted. “We are a team, we do this together or not at all!” he said. Keri looked up, “Really, me too?” she asked? “Panicking remembering how hard it was for her dad to teach her things. “Do you really think I could do it?” Jack held her away from him, with his hands on her shoulders and such love in his eyes and said in a serious tone, “Keri, you can do anything you want to do and don’t ever forget that.”

Soon they were in a contest who could solo first. Every weekend was filled with trips to fly. It was very expensive but Jack always budgeted in both lessons. Keri never actually thought about it but she was happy flying and enjoyed it much more than sailing. Even though Keri had actually taken the initiative, Jack ended up soloing first but Keri did it with less flights. And they laughed about it but she knew how proud of her he truly was when he took home movies as she soloed for the first time. It was such a good feeling to be the one who made him proud or laugh. They had so much fun together and Keri was so in love.

Weekends consisted of trips through Corona, and staying at little motels in Riverside while studying for their future Glider license exam. They would joke and quiz each other and fall onto the bed laughing as they climbed all over each other until they got enough and then they’d repeat it all over and over again. Their love was endless. But at times, Keri felt a restlessness in Jack that she could not shake or joke it away. She never knew when to expect the dark moods but slowly she learned how to handle them. Sometimes, she could slip under the covers trying to tease him out of it and try to get him to talk about whatever it was bothering him but other times, he would get irritable and shut down. Keri knew by then, that at those times Jack was less than approachable and so she would let it go. One night after flying and having an especially wonderful day, Jack just turned his back to her without warning.  She began running her hand down his back and he stiffened.

She knew not to touch him or push, so she  just turned over. And contemplated everything as  they lay with their backs towards each other. She understood that was all she could do. There had been times before when she had attempted to get him to talk about what was bothering him. Those times had not gone so well.  It was a terribly helpless feeling to not be able to show the one you love how much you love them and that you were different from everyone who had ever come before. She had no idea what had caused the turn in his mood and realized that perhaps she never would. Jack would most like wake up with this behind him, perhaps even apologetic. She had begun to learn the patterns.  Keri lay still as tears slid down her cheek, trying to picture a life filled with nights like these. Finally, she turned over her wet pillow and fell asleep.

Bless The Children

Sent here from heaven…

Seems like just yesterday,

Oh Lord they weren’nt here very long,

were they?

But in an instant

I know that

they were with you again

You were there,

watching over them

to welcome them in!

And now they are with you,

safe in your arms~

Far away from the world

and all of it’s harms

They will never know sickness

or what hate ever means

as they play with the Angels

on starry moon beams

Now, Lord

please comfort

the ones  left behind

Remind them

that this

is not

really good bye

Though, we miss them today,

it is not the end…

For some day we ALL

will gather with YOU again

Diane Reed

f

Happy Anniversary My Love

I am going on a little anniversary get away with my husband this week. We plan to  go find the boat we were married on and visit good friends. And then  go to my daughter’s first movie premier! She starred in  a little Indie that will be showing along with other Independent films at a Hollywood dinner theater and we are so excited to go and support her.  While all that is planned I have to fit in a “retail” buying trip for the place where I work.

Our trip is our gift to each other and yet I wanted to stop a minute and write a little something on our anniversary here. Excuse me, as I use my blog as a place to store my gift to him. He reads things here when I send them and so I will send this to him on December 4th… The last couple of years have been a little crazy and so the words may only be ones he understands but I thought I’d still share them as I know others here might relate.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY!

I have a lot of memories of times before we met

slowly they’ve been forgotten but some I can’t forget

You have been so patient as I’ve  tried to let things go

to share things with you, you never should have known

But I love the way you love me, the way you’ve still held on

I can’t say if it had been reversed, that I wouldn’t have been gone

You are a better person for loving me the way you do

And I am so very blessed because honey… I love you!

So… NOW, I want my memories to be the ones that WE have made

and begin to make new ones so that you will be glad you stayed…

Nineteen years ago on that day in December

YOU are the  only one that I want to remember!

Happy Anniversary my love!

The Ring

The first time I got married, we bought our rings at Gemco. I still remember, they were just little bands of gold. Mine fit perfectly inside of his. Our Pastor made up a quick little off the cuff sermon about them when they were placed in his hand. Something about, how the circle was unbroken and how the man protects his wife. Well, that didn’t work out too well now did it? The circle was eventually broken and as for protecting… well my heart was shattered into a million pieces and so I think not.

I remember once after we had separated, I had taken mine off. It had been almost as painful as removing my actual finger. Over the years, after we were more financially stable,  he added to that little band of gold and had given me a beautiful diamond engagement ring  for Christmas one year. Several years later, the diamond fell out and I had been devastated  and stopped wearing it until we could replace the diamond. We never did. But I always wore that little band of gold. Always, till I didn’t.  I remember noticing that he still had his on long after we had separated and it kind of tugged at my heart in such a way, I still can feel it today. There is just something about a man wearing your ring after you have taken his off that gets to you.

I have since remarried and  was given a new beautiful diamond ring that I’ve worn since. It has weathered many years. Last year, the band broke, it had just worn down and split right in the middle. It kept pinching my finger and so I finally took it off. My husband (the giver of that ring) and I were going through some rough times and so it was kind of apropos. I placed it in my jewelry box and I remember feeling sad but kind of free. Though when I saw my husband wearing his ring, I felt that same pain that touched the core of my heart again. And yet, I reasoned that my ring was broken and so it remained in my jewelry box.

A ring has a lot of symbolism for many of us. We all probably could share a story or two about a ring  in each of our lives. I won’t go into exactly what was going on in my life, but I went ringless for almost an entire year. All I will say is that it was timely and pretty sympbolic. But every time I would see my husband’s ring on his hand, something struck me. Perhaps it was his loyalty and steadfastness, because no matter what happened, he kept that ring on.

Christmas was on a Sunday this last year. My husband had to work. We had done presents earlier because we knew we had to go to church and he would have to leave early from there to go to work.  I was not expecting it when he squeezed my leg to say goodbye and pressed a little velvet box in my hand. I looked down as he walked out of the church. I opened the box and there was my shiny diamond ring with a brand new band. I sat there holding it. Feeling as if I did not deserve the ring nor the husband.

It wasn’t as romantic as it could have been. He hadn’t stayed to slip it on my finger or even to see if I would do it myself. I felt kind of empty sitting there looking at it as he walked out the door. There I sat in church with my sweet daughter who had come for Christmas, sitting beside me. She knowingly watched me. she had known, been in on the “surprise” she knew too much as it was. I put on the ring and smiled at her. She smiled back. The singing stopped and we sat down to listen to the sermon. So much was going on in my head,  I don’t think I heard any of it that day.

Today I look at that ring. Several months have passed. Several emotions and conversations later and it still remains on that finger since I slipped it back on, in church that day. Yesterday, I was noticing that in all the rings I have ever worn, this one just seems to fit perfectly. Maybe it is the great job the jeweler did in fixing it, but just maybe it is the ONE that is supposed to be on my finger. The one that The best “REPAIRER” of  all rings and hearts and all good things is still working on.

The Prodigal Father

Oh Lord make me like the Prodigal Father,

steadfast, forgiving and strong ~

So that even when I have been wounded,

and I feel that I’ve been wronged,

Lord, You will help me to look the other way,

and celebrate the Love within,

that each time someone  says “forgive me”

that’s where I can begin.

Help me not to be like the older brother

Who resents his father’s grace

But Oh Dear Lord let me learn the lesson here,

in the mercy of your embrace.

By

Diane Reed

The Well

I was trying to explain something to my husband this morning and it turned into a huge discussion that kind of spoiled my good mood. He is the kind that can just brush his shoes off and move on while I am left wallowing in the mud where I feel my heart was dropped, feeling misunderstood and judged. I think that It might be a guy thing. Maybe I am just expecting too much from them~ or… of anyone for that matter, maybe it is a lot to ask to be understood.  Who knows, All I know is that it feels good when it doesn’t seem to take so much work to just feel “GOTTEN”. And at certain important times of my life, I have felt more understood than others and have appreciated the ones doing the understanding.

I tried to remember another time when I felt that way and it was with a different husband a couple of decades earlier. I was almost 8 months pregnant and something happened on a particular day that impacted me in such a way that I even remember her name. If you know me at all, I know a lot of people and it takes a while for names to register so it is especially impressive that I remember one that I spent just a few days with almost 25 years ago.

It was the day that Jessica McClure fell down the well. I began following the story as soon as it aired. It was about a little eighteen month old baby girl who had fallen down a well in her aunt’s backyard in Texas.  I was just one of many, who tuned in to pray and watch the story unfold. Hour after hour, even day after day, we listened to her mom call down as they sung “Winnie The Pooh” together through that small hole she was wedged into and it did me in. I think I cried and prayed more in those two days than I ever had in my life except for maybe the day that my dad died. I am not sure if it was because I was pregnant and emotional or my little niece was about the same age but I  bonded to that mom and her baby, praying and watching along with the rest of the world as the crews of heroes went about rescuing her and strangers began donating equipment to help with her excavation , after two days , even my husband was watching and praying with me.

But just as they were about ready to pull her out, he went across the street. I asked him to wait and watch with me but he just had to go get high at the party house. Even though we did not divorce until several years later, I remember knowing at that moment that our marriage was doomed.

And like I said earlier… I am not sure why that exact second impacted me so much but it has stayed with me like “A Kennedy Moment” for all these years. I watched as they pulled that baby out of the well and praised the Lord and loved the heroes involved. All by myself, as tears streamed down my cheeks watching it all finally come to cohesion  alone in my living room. I remember going across the street later and finding the coverage on there too. I let it all register for a few minutes without saying anything and then I burst into tears as I kind of surveyed the whole scenario, as if my future was being played out right in front of me (and little did I know right then, but it was) as my husband kind of looked at me cluelessly, as I said, “I can’t believe that you couldn’t have waited two minutes to share that experience with me.”

I am so sure that, my neighbor’s houseful of friends all in their haze of being high and all childless, had not a clue in the world what was the matter with me, but the fact that my husband didn’t “GET” it resonated clearly in that instance. Even though our divorce was due to something completely different years later, I think that, THAT day I knew it was just a matter of time before the other shoe would fall.

Today I have a wonderful husband who tries to understand my Jessica McClure moments and even though he may not get them all. And even though today it still takes a lot of work to really feel that he understands the things important to me, I pretty much know that he would not have gone across the street that day and he would have stayed to watch the rescue with me. At the very least,  I know that he makes the effort to stick around everytime  I wander back to the well. I can still feel the tears when I remember that little voice faintly singing up the tune; “Winnie the pooh, winnie the pooh, silly old bear.” And to this day, I thank God for the heroes that never gave up. The elation we all felt as a nation as we watched those beautiful men pull her up alive. It makes me realize that I have heroes in my own life that I thank God for. Especially, the ones who never give up on me.

Finishing the Book

I am taking a chance by sharing this… but I’ve always believed that all stories worth  telling need to be written~ And hopefully,  you won’t judge me too much….

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When I started writing my book almost a decade ago, it had been inside of me for over thirty five years. Without ever really realizing it, I think it started out as a kind of therapy of my own.  It is about a young girl,  who finds herself  twisted inside a very emotionally abusive relationship and the woman she becomes because of her past. It is a work of fiction with a bit of my own reality woven throughout the story. My premise for the book was to shout out a message to vunlerable young girls about not losing themselves in the process of finding their dreams.

I think that I did a good job in teaching my daughter that lesson without the help of my finished book. She was the recipient of all the material I would eventually write down, the template I would use as my guide.  My goal in teaching my daughter to not lose herself was first on my bucket list. And I believe I did a good job. She is now educated in what she is passionate about, with a degree, and continuing her education, she owns her own business and is working towards her acting aspirations. And she is in love with a wonderful man who I believe she will marry someday, but never once did she stop living who she was to love him.

If my story can help other young girls not make the same mistakes that  I did then I have to tell it.  You see, when I was going through my version of hell back then, there was nothing out there telling me that other boyfriends were also hitting and controling  their girlfriends. Not that, THAT would have made it okay but I think I would have had a softer place to fall. I did not feel that it was the kind of thing you share with your family or close friends and so I was alone in my agony. Today there are  Oprah-like shows that “teach” you and inform you and pretty much kick your butt into being proactive about living a positive life. At least you  have the information now.

My daughter took a long time in choosing who she would hand her heart over to and I believe that because of my warnings, she really bypassed some of the standard faux pas many young girls have to experience. She doesn’t have to drag that extra baggage of relationships gone wrong, into her life that I have in all the decades that followed, as I blundered my way through several broken hearts since.

Today, I now  find myself in a twenty year marriage and  though everything is not perfect, I think in all of my lessons learned, I finally know that I have made the best choice for me and I am married to a pretty wonderful guy who I may not have fully appreciated,  if I had not experienced the second chapter of my life in the way I have….

Back when we were kids… my first love and I would break up and make up over and over again, a few phone calls back and forth, and we would get back together. We didn’t have emails or cell phones or texting and so breaking up back then was still hard but it must be hell for young people now, with all of the social medias of “friending and unfriending” and labeling ; “In A Relationship” or not.  I can’t even imagine! When it ended  for us the last time, it was horrible and  it was over. After several chance meetings of driving to where he knew I would be and hashing things out over and over again, He finally accepted that I was done and moved on.  He had a whole host of family issues that were far removed from anything I had ever experienced. I wish I had understood it all better back then. He really was a good guy, damaged by his own childhood and the abuse he experienced but it was too much for a young girl to take on, let alone comprehend so it ended badly  but not without first dragging me through the emotional mud that seemed to stay caked all over me for many years to follow.

Fast forward a few decades later, due to today’s technology… he found me again. In-between our broken lives lived, and asked for my forgiveness. I was so caught off guard, we began dialoging, he, looking for forgivness, and I perhaps closure…  My husband hesitantly gave me his blessings (the amazing man he is)  thinking maybe if I could say goodbye the right way, it would help me move on. I even shared some of our messages with my daughter because “he” had kind of been the guy in the lesson I had taught her. Kind of the template of who not to fall in love with. But she knows me oh too well, and became concerned at best  saying… “Mom, it doesn’t sound like he is looking for closure!” If  only I had listened.

I stopped writing my story. It seemed offensive or at the very least, cruel as I got to know the man who once was the boy I loved with all of my heart and perhaps, never really stopped. The flood of memories we shared was like a healing wave that washed over my heart. We became friends,  good friends. We connected.  The forgiveness I felt, was like taking a deep breath and finally being  able to actually feel  the oxygen run through me, as it took on a life all of it’s own. I even started writing my story again. But something didn’t feel right. For one thing, it didn’t stay so innocent for very long…my daughter knew something was up… my smart little chickadee… but like in Bridges of Madison County… it started out that way, so very innocently, I promise.

Fast forward almost two years later…. Marriage counseling and struggling to let go. (which is really hard with all of this dang technology always at our fingertips)

I make no excuses. I won’t even give the stupid ole’ devil credit in this one, which is very tempting to do… I know it was a series of dumb choices that I made all by myself. Though it started out innocently enough,  we even attributed our re-connection to God as a miracle of HIS doing.  And maybe, HE did  open up a window for forgiveness and closure but we took more and opened the door to other things not meant to be… As I look back, I see that I do that a lot…take God’s blessings for me and become greedy.   A good lesson for me today, as I reflect.

I know now, that my lesson is a warning to all women out there like me.  I was bored and curious and still terribly, terribly damaged by the past.  I know now more than ever, that hind sight is 20/20  and I realize that my message is not just for the young girls, but for all of us, young and old or  (at least …older… smile.) It is for the ones stuck front and center, smack  in the middle of  their own midlife crisies, the ones dealing with empty nests,  and grieving their youth, and the ones who never really believed in themselves, the ones who need to find a soft place to land and then stand up and take control of their own life and live it! The ones who look at their reflection in the mirror and see a stranger and want to scream out “NOW WHAT?!” But only a whisper comes out. It is to remind you that we all have second chapters, at twenty or at fifty. But it is in our choices and how we handle them that truly tells our story.

I have made some terrible decisions that I regret and yet had some experiences I wouldn’t have wanted to miss. It is just an art of knowing which are which. I have been on a wild ride these last few years.  Sometimes, I have hung on for dear life and other times, I almost let go ~ and yet, I wouldn’t have wanted to miss any of it because it has made me become the person I am now;  Still A WORK IN PROGRESS and yet, someone very different.  I have forgiven and been forgiven.  I have gone back and tended to that young girl who once was me, the one I left behind so many years ago. The one who needed me to go back and love again.

And Funny, but it seems as if I have so much more material now,  I don’t even know where to start and so it sits… the four little chapters, waiting to be written. Kind of like me…God is not through with me yet. He is still writing His version of my happy ending if I would stop getting in the way.

Perhaps none of this is something that I could have possibly imagined, let alone penned at twenty.  But ahhh, wouldn’t it have been nice to have learned all those lessons back then?

So that leaves me to where I left off…  The twister….I have been about four chapters short of finishing my story.  Everyday we have a new canvas to begin painting on, a new stage to begin that new dance and a blank page to spill our heart upon….  As I finally figure out how to climb over the last of my baggage, to wrap up the last lesson learned, to let out that breath I have been holding, I look for the words and somehow… I know it will all turn out okay.

I know……….. our marriage will be my happy ending! As for my book…. hmmm… what do you guys think?

I take a deep breath and breathe as my fingers begin pushing those darn keys once again…

Even Me

I have been kind of down on myself lately, I have made some pretty bad mistakes in my life and some of my choices have not been the best. I think that I have always felt that one of my biggest failures has  been my divorce. Even though I understand that I probably made the right decision in the long run, and I know that I am forgiven… I still have a hard time getting over the guilt of it… Though as the years go by, I have come to terms with things and have since moved on~  to make sure that I don’t just focus on my divorce, I have really taken care of that one beautifully,  I mean why just stop at divorce when I can become a “STAR” in my own series of even worse failures? At least I am consistent!  And have made a few whopper sized ones lately.

I have been like a rebellious kid, looking at my actions from  every other  point of view I can imagine. I’ve tried not to care, I;ve even tried to say that my failures are God’s will. But really, who am I kidding?

Sooo, I know that I am forgiven and I know all about laying it at the cross but I really have been wondering what God genuinely thinks of me as I fail daily to keep all my promises to me, let alone HIM!  I would love it if we could take a walk like in the book The Shack and have a heart to heart. I wish He could gently shake me into understanding everything. But I continue to loathe myself ~And just about when I have convinced myself that I will never be worthy…. I open up an email from a friend… the kind that I usually click on, skim through and delete but right about the time, I was feeling seriously unworthy…. with one foot in barely a prayer but making an effort… and the other foot in the other door, checking my e-mail, I read this…..

Noah was a drunk, Abraham was too old, Isaac was a daydreamer, Jacob was a liar, Leah was ugly, Joseph was abused, Moses stuttered, Samson was a womanizer, Rahab was a prostitute, Jeremiah and Timothy were too young, David had an affair and was a murderer, Elijah was suicidal, Isaiah preached naked, Jonah ran from God, Naomi was a widow,  John the Baptist ate bugs, Peter denied Christ, The Disciples fell asleep while praying, Martha was a worrier, The Samaratian woman was divorced more than once, Zaccheus was too small, Paul was too religious, Timothy 

It ended  with a quippy little message…  So….no more excuses about your potential…. God can use you too… just the way you are!

It made me think….

He really does want us. He even wants me. I think that I have finally realized…  It doesn’t matter who we are, or what we have done… He genuinely wants us. But He won’t bang down our door or force us into His flock… Though, He will keep reminding us that His arms are open and even continue to nudge us gently to  follow Him…like a lost little lamb…

just as I am…He is carrying us like a lost little part of the flock that has wandered off…the prodigal son… He has sent us message after message that we are all worth it… even me.

The Difference Makers

A child is supposed to feel safe. And yet if that is the case, why are so many adults in therapy?

Some people had wonderful childhoods and were raised with caring and loving parents who taught them right from wrong, others had good parents and comfortable childhoods and their parents made mistakes but did the best they could. And still, others had horrific childhoods and terrible parents and seem perfectly fine. And yet all of these people have one thing in common. An inner child who is still there.

Recently, I have gone through a process of recognizing my inner child. She is the one who doesn’t trust because those who she trusted hurt her. She is the one who was never allowed to talk about her anger and so she learned how to lash out. She is the one who always wanted a voice, and now speaks too loudly sometimes. She is the one who felt so out of control most of her life, so that now she needs to control EVERTYTHING!. She is the one who was disappointed and so only sees the negative in things so she will never be disappointed again.

Ahhh, that feels so negative. It really isn’t. My inner child remembers the great things too. She loves to learn and organize and create and run and laugh and play. She has a special handful of friends that she trusts with her life and would do anything for. She always looks forward to a good time. She is in there too, all of her. Experiences and memories, Lessons and moments, all moving her along like editing a motion picture.

Stop and close your eyes and find your inner child. Who is he or she, really? If we all got a chance to go back and meet each other’s inner children, and really understand where the guy who cut you off on the freeway or the back stabbing, coworker at work first began, perhaps maybe we would have more compassion for all of them.

The little girl who was always worried that her Daddy wouldn’t get home safely because of his drinking, the little boy who felt brushed aside because his mother was too busy getting ready to go out. The kid who always heard fighting and never knew when the next explosion would take place. The little step son who never could do anything right, the kid who always waited for his dad to show up when each time he never did.

Always lonely, always worried, always brushed aside, feeling unimportant, abandoned,  the one who started out not fitting into his own family, always seeking the perfect place where he could feel as if he belonged. The little girl who had to grow up fast because she wasn’t allowed to be the child. Always fixing, always nurturing.  Always performing, and yet she was just a little girl, but today not quite a grown up.

And yet the parents that did come through, the other family members who stepped up to the plate when they were needed most, the friends and mentors, the teachers, the ones who gave them a voice, the protectors and rescuers, of those who were lucky enough to have them, all MADE A DIFFERENCE.

Today, if we look inside of ourselves, we all can find a piece of that child still lingering inside of each of us. Perhaps if we all reached out to just one child we recognized as hurting, and began mentoring instead of criticizing, hugging instead of scolding, teaching instead of berating, sharing with instead of rushing away, we might just break the cycle and begin to lead the way, to find the children and to become the protector, the mentor and the difference maker, in a way helps lead the child inside of them to a place where we all can grow up and be someone else’s hero. Because…. all of those children eventually grow up to remember the difference makers in their own lives and hopefully, someday will grow up to  become somebody else’s hero.

Facebook; The Click of a Key Rocked MY World!

My first love found me on facebook. We had a rocky break up but lets face it you never forget your first. He was the first one who asked me to marry him. The first one that I really loved back. The first one who I cared what he thought. My very first everything. We were both young and terribly naive. We let pride and other people play us like game pieces on a board.

Our past hurts from childhood and life such as it was in the few years we had lived it, controlled our destiny. There was abuse and no matter how much I excuse it now as I understand my first love’s own childhood hurts, the things that happened mattered and they positioned me in my life for my future and my way of loving. I built walls where there shouldn’t have been and never let go in exactly the same way.

When I became a mother I was not prepared for the love I felt. It was like no other and yet I feel I didn’t really grasp motherhood fully until I had my daughter seven years later. Before I had her, I wasn’t sure that I could ever love anyone as much as I loved my son but other mothers were right… your heart finds room.
And with my daughter, my heart did not have to make much of an effort to make room for her. From the beginning we just seemed to “get” each other. For the first time, since that wall went up, I felt the wall finally coming down.

At different times in my life, pieces of the wall were able to at least be moved but it stood strong most of the other times. So you can imagine my surprise when I accepted my exe’s friend request and finally felt that wall come tumbling down. In the click of a key we were transported back to our youth. And I stood at a door that I viewed as an opportunity to a kind of a “Do Over.”  Or adventures to be had in the midst of a full fledged mid life crisis. WARNING: You can’t ever go back. There are no such things as DO OVERS.

Am I sorry I clicked the key? You might think that I should yell from the mountain tops a resounding YES!!! But in a way, I guess I have to say that nothing ventured, nothing gained….If I hadn’t taken the time to walk down the path of my past, I may never have been able to see the beauty when looking down the path of my future or just being able to appreciate how lovely the present truly can be.