...away in a manger

With the recent death of my Mom, dealing with the Holidays is an emotional ride I can't explain. Thanksgiving was not only difficult, it was a teary blur.  I hear I hosted a wonderful meal but it was like I wasn't there at all. I was a huge fake.  Everyone worried (except my Dad).  My family could not only see but feel my sadness.  It runs deep and different than other those I know that have loss a parent.  Everyone deals with grief differently, but also, I had this dysfunctional relationship baggage that I am trying to sort out. A lot of guilt and misunderstanding to my grief. I am still trying to fix everything through my Dad... which is a whole different post...

Christmas is upon us.

This year even without the dealing the grief, our plans are a bit different.  We are not planning to drag all of the Christmas stuff out.  I am not even planning to put the tree up.  I am only pulling a few things out. Along with my Christmas containers, I have found a couple of bags of my Mom's Christmas decorations that I salvaged when we moved Dad and condensed their belongings. I barely remember putting them in with mine. But I started going through them today.  Among them was this...

It is my Sister Julie & my Childhood Nativity Set.  It has several chipped and broken figurines. The manger is barely standing with it's weakened cardboard frame torn and caved in.  But other than a couple of the original sheep... I believe it is all here.
My Sis and I would spend hours playing with this.  Re-enacting the story of Baby Jesus born in the Manger.  The Three Kings, the Shepperd's coming with their gifts.  As we grew up we would constantly change the setting stage.  I think I preferred them all looking onto Baby Jesus, and my Sis would switch them to look out to us as if it were a play.

I remember getting new Kings and Shepperds.  We would get them at Ben Franklin or Murphy's.  It was exciting looking them over in the store all lined up waiting to join a Nativity set. The price sticker still remains on  this one.

Through the years, through the chaos... somehow this Nativity Set was not destroyed or lost.  It survived.  Much like my Sister Julie, and I.

Cat Brat

This is Mischa.  I have blogged about her before. She is probably one of the most annoying Cats I have ever had.  Don't get me wrong... I love this stinker to pieces.  But she is most definently a BRAT.
The day she came to live with us,(eight years ago) my Annie & I came out to sit on the porch waiting for Annie to get picked up by friends. We heard a very distinct cry.. We went over to our open garage where we found this skinny cat meowing and meowing.  Hubby stepped out into the garage about the same time, also hearing her cry.  We fed her (she was straving), and we gave her a warm bed to rest.  We had no luck finding who she belonged to (our neighborhood was not one that pets ran amuck... no stray animals around here.  We finally decided, someone who knew how I am stuck her in our garage knowing we would find her a home. 

We did. Ours. 

At first we found her constant meowing charmng. She reminded us so much of our Chatty Tanda (best cat ever... died 14 years prior). But Mischa doesn't have a sweet meow.  For a small cat, it's not a petite soft meow.  More like Janice, Chanlor's old girlfriend on Friends... Or Fran from The Nanny. (She must be a Jersey Cat). Anyway... she never ever ever shuts up. She drives everyone crazy. Especially Sergio & Riley. She just walks around meowing non stop. Some mornings she gets sent to the other end of the house so we can sleep.  She is at her worse in the morning.  She wants everyone up when she is up.

She is destructive.  She shreds the furniture, the wood tirm... She is naughty.

She is a clumsy cat too. She knocks things over... she slips or misjudges something she attempts to jump to... she runs into things... (her vision is perfect she is jsut not graceful).
This morning I let the dogs out and returned to bed to get another half hour of dreamland.  Mischa was walking all over me, trying to get me up. I ignored her.  She started eating my plant (which drives me crazy! it's from Mom's services and it is whittering, besides, Mischa will just throw up if she eats some of it). I hollered at her to stop her... She leaped to my table next to bed, sliding into things. I heard something slip, but assumed it was water that the cap wasn't secured.  But then I started to smell something.  Overwhelmingly smell something. That Darn Cat knocked over an Aroma oils and Reeds vase!  Oil is everywhere, table, book, wall, carpet... And my room is in over-abundance of the scent fresh lines (which doesn' smell like that at all). Chocked me & THE DOGS right out of the room!

So now, here I sit... listening to her meow.... choking from a cheap imatition of "Fresh Linens" and loving this ridiculous Bratty Cat.

Snail Mail

When I was a little girl, I wrote a lot of mail.  Snail mail.  My Grandparents, my Cousins, my Friends, and when I was spending my summers in Texas, my Parents, Sister, and the Besties.

I remember in grade school getting to write Pen Pals at another school far away.  Our Teacher taught us how to write a letter.  What an opportunity.  How fortunate was I?  How sad this is no longer taught.  Do you remember the "rules?"  Date... Salutation...Body... Closing... Signature. 

In Middle School, I was notorious for note writing.  Once, a Teacher took one of my notes, read it out loud to my classmates, exposing my crush, and embarrassing me nearly to death. 
That did not stop me.
I was just more careful.. Writing (sometimes in code or with initials) passing the notes, and reading those from friends.  It became an art itself.  I still have many silly and precious notes from my Bestie. We have had a wonderful times reading over them so many years later... a good keep.
It tickles me to see Deliver De Letter De Sooner De Better... Or Sealed with a Kiss to Make it Stick.
Think of yesterday, when we did not have instant gratification of email, texting, and social media.  Even the phone calls.  Why when I was in college I was lucky to get to talk to my Mom once a week.  On a Dorm phone shared with 3 other girls. Nearly impossible to talk to a Bestie privately. To pour our hearts out, we had to depend on snail mail... knowing it would take three days to get to someone and three days to get a return letter. But so worth it.  Seeing that familiar handwriting, and knowing there is wisdom, humor and love within the letter!
I recently challenge myself to get back into writing snail mail.  I decided to send 52 letters in 52 weeks. It's going quite well. Actually, it is going splendid.  I did not realize the smiles it would deliver, yet alone the letters I would receive back.  Many friends have been motivated to join me in bringing this almost lost art back.  Do you remember the joy you would get seeing a letter to you in the mailbox?  Much like Christmas cards, another dying practice (please don't get me started about these Christmas email group messages).  I really want to hear from loved ones and I will take what I can get, but, I so prefer a personal letter of card.  I love the pictures and I enjoy the Christmas newsletters.
With some rather time consuming (and emotional) derailments that have hit, I am a tad behind but am not going to let this stop me. I am so back on it and writing my little fingers off.  I love hunting down stationary (not an easy task!  I am actually having to make some). I have been selecting friends that I need to get in touch with as well as those I do talk to on a regular basis.  I am finding that telling someone how much I appreciate them and how special they have been to me, is very gratifying.  How often we forget to tell those we love, thank you.  This has been a wonderful wya for me to express just that.
Yep. Letter writing.
The Lost Art has found it's way back to me. Good old fashion hand written letters from my heart♥

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Taking a Breath

The past few weeks are swirling by. I never seem to find the time to sit down and write anymore. I run 24/7 and when I do stop, my head crashes into the pillow and I sleep.
I have had some wonderful breaks, time spent with the Hubby, my Girls, and my Dear Besties. But as for reading and writing time... I have not been able to make that happen.

 Having a week off from work will free up some 50 hours. I requested 3 books from the library. That will give me some serenity. I have a few appointments to take my Dad and some paperwork, phone work and leg work with Dad's business. That will keep me busy. My Hubby needs me to assist in a few things. Check.. got that covered.  My youngest daughter will be home from College for Thanksgiving Break as of Wednesday.. {yay Baby Girl time!} I look forward to catching up with her as she has been such a busy little Bee. Thanksgiving is here! Oh boy... I will have 6 - 16 for dinner Thursday. While frustrating to not have an exact count, such is family plans. I am just Blessed to keep busy as this is the first holiday since Mom's death.  Not only do I need to keep steady for myself but I want Dad to be okay through it.  Christmas shopping will start as well as Birthday shopping for my oldest {can she really be turning 24?}. I am finally getting well from a strange skin and eye infection.  Another week and I may be able to wear contacts and makeup for the first time in ...well, too long.  I'm making an appointment for my Pommie, Dakota to get a haircut as well as I have made an appointment for myself to rid myself of my long straight graying hair, trading in this Church Lady look for something with a little kick and style.  I am needing a little pick me up and a fresh look will help.  I also have a little big something else up my sleeve that I am not ready to spill out, it's a good thing, but a private thing.  Nonetheless... keeping me very very busy as well.

I have taken some steps back from social media lately.  It gets so overwhelmingly full of negativity. I "aint got no time for that".  Nor the energy. Also, with Deer Season in full swing here in Indy... this Bambi loving Gal really does not want to see everyone's kill shots, gutting shots, and glory shots.
No thank you...

Another sad note... I haven't had as much time for reading my favorite blogs.  Yesterday, I stole a few morning moments with a cup of Joe, and dived into blog reading.  TWO of my favorite reads have gone private!  :(  These two extraordinary Gals have such a knack for making me smile and enjoy the reads.  I must email them asap to get invited into the groups.  They are two of my favorites and I so hope to get back in as I have been following for far too many years to go cold turkey without my doses of laughter with them.

I want to write some more letters!  I started this "hobby" recently and the joy of receiving them back is absolutely delicious!  Also brings me such a smile thinking of friends receiving a letter the old fashion way, from me.

I spent a wonderful weekend with my two best friends. I want to write a post on it, but will leave you with this picture for now.  I must say, it was just what the Doctor ordered for me.  It was simply Divine!

Deb, Jan, Sher Besties 2012
 

the movie part 2

morning has broken

I know I have been MIA too much... Trust me, I miss writing as well as reading. How sad that I haven't made time for something I am passionate about as well as is therapeutic. Lord knows I need something therapeutic.
So stinking much has happened.
So very much to express.
I don't know how I will ever be able to catch up.  It will be best if I just dive in and catch up with things along the way.

Thursday evening, I made a frantic rush to meet an ambulance at a hospital that I am not familiar with.
While there I met a rather wise nurse, needing to interview myself and Sister. The nurse was trying to gather needed information as she was accessing our Father, who was here because of a rather traumatic,  dramatic, no make that selfish choice of suicide attempt.  I realize she was more than surprised ...she was baffled, as we answered her questions and poured out a mini version of his life and how he arrived here. 
Body language.
I have learned much about body language from working with the Deaf and learning ASL. 
The nurse leaned in closer and closer..eyes widened and jaw dropping.  At one point, she said, this is a movie! It's truly an unbelievable story of your survival. I have heard so much but this...this is just a movie."

Afterwards, Julie said she would like to start collaborating with me to write our story. It isn't a movie.  It's the story of my life.

 I need to write.  It is what it is. Writing keeps me strong. It helps me to know that I am a survivor.  That I am okay.

I wont be able to re-capture the moments that I missed. But I will try to go back and explain some things to help you understand how I got here at this point.

All is good.  I'm okay.  I am one tough cookie.