My Husband, He died. 

On our 33rd Wedding Anniversary. In July.

Everything is hard. Seems hard. 

It got a bit easier to grasp, to deal with as things began to open back up... to see friends... to go to Church... but now they are closing back up again. 

Our Governor was yelling at a reporter today... the reporter asked very good questions about the closing back up again.

A lady who lives across the street from my Daughter was found dead today. Her Husband died less than a month ago. She was in her 70's. Isolated. Covid for your health. Did she kill herself? We do not know yet. 

The death ratio is far less than even the common flu. 

Yet, we are barraged by this... and mandatory things they are wanting to put on us during this... and prolonging this. It is real... but... still.....  

It made my Husbands last time in the hospital horrible. Already extreme restricted visiting hours... and he had 3 Covid tests for 3 different hospitalizations June to July. The last test, they took forever to come back with the result. I think that they thought he was going to die in the hospital...and I think that the plan was to mark him as a Covid death. 

I feel tired. And very sad.

My heart breaks for a woman who lives across the street from my daughter... someone who I do not know. 

My heart breaks for the elderly who have been forced by family members to be alone because the government told them to be. The restrictions being declared over who you may have in your home for the Holidays. The Fear being dumped. 

Are we Americans? Or something else. 

Whatever it is... I certainly do not like it. 

I cried tonight.
Just a little bit.
I still.... can't believe what is happening here.
Even though I do.
But... the trajectory of this whole... scenario....
My life. My Husbands Life.
And... I doubt myself...
My intentions... my SELF... My Every THING.
A little ptsd... and I truly hate to think of these feelings this way but so many ways I feel brings me back 20 years.,
Uncertain.
Unloved.
I feel like my husband is just going to wake up through his pain and say... NO! YOU are not who I wanted to have with me the rest of my life!
While I beg for his life.
And accept this may be his end of life.
And prepare.
And prepare.
Prepare for Death.
Prepare for Life.
And feel....
there IS life.
He HAS Life.
I have Life.
We are Life.
God help us through this Life.
However long.
However Short.
Help me sort out this funny brain of mine....
Help me be ME... In YOU.
Help me Lord, Please.
Help me to help him.
Help me to be a good Wife.
Please.

Happy Valentines Day.
A day late.
We had such a nice Valentine's Day together though... my Hubby and I! I savored it!
He is not really eating too much... but is eating more than he was last month.
Yesterday I asked him if he could handle Stouffers Lasagna (He always likes that if I am not making it from scratch) it is just good comfort food sometimes, and easy. I get for myself the Amy's GF vegetable Lasagna. He felt he could handle some. I got that... got some Baileys Strawberry and Cream... that is a very good Valentine treat! We had our little cocktail, watched TV, ate our pasta and laughed about things. It was very nice. He ate the Valentine cupcake I got for him too.
Today... was a very different kind of day. He was tired all through the day and just not with it.  Our kids came over for dinner with their spouses... we were all tired it seemed but we all had a very good time. A blessed kind of day for sure.
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I was actually cleaning today.
So glad I did.
My brain gets very foggy in caregiving mode... I am very focused on my husbands needs... and paying attention to the details of life is not too important.
Last week, 2 of my Cousins came over to bring food for us...
I realized at that moment that I need to pay attention to our home.
I saw part of what they may have seen through their eyes... and today I spent considerable time cleaning. I realized that last year... I did not do a Spring Clean.... because I was stressed.
In October. I did not do the "Spring/Fall" cleaning.... because I was stressed....
So I found many Easter Eggs of grime today.
I felt much better after having tackled a few areas... they seem like hidden ones... but they are not. Only hidden from our stress filled eyes.
Threw out a lot of stuff as well... and then got a bit of organizing accomplished too.

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Yesterday I walked 1.83 miles.
It felt good.
I had not walked for a month.
Not good. I had promised myself to walk regularly... and did very well with it for the first half of January.... but.... Dr appointments, treatment appointments, surprise Dr appointments ... I let it all get the best of my intentions. Stress, again.
Hopefully I will get out for a nice walk tomorrow.
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This morning I had planned to open up my Bible and delve in to it with the aid of several Devotionals that I follow. Another exercise that fell by the wayside the last half of January for the same reasons. I cheated instead and let my hand find a verse... and felt the force of it though.
Nehemiah 1:11

11 Lord, let your ear be attentive to the prayer of this your servant and to the prayer of your servants who delight in revering your name. Give your servant success today by granting him favor in the presence of this man.”

I was cupbearer to the king.

Now... because of Jesus... we are ALL (In Christ)  Cupbearers to the King. I felt that this is a good verse to know... such as the very popular verse in Jeremiah 29:11... The Prayer of Jabez...  a reassurance... this prayer from Nehemiah though... is even more important.... 

I cheated in the Devotional department today...and God really taught my heart a thing or two in my cheating. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For dinner tonight... I had planned to put boneless chicken thighs in to the crock pot with Sweet Baby Rays sauce. 

Instead I layered the thighs with toasted sesame oil, sweet chili sauce, pepper, garlic powder.... baked it.

Very good.

Even hubby ate some. 

Rice, Green Beans with onion and mushroom....

strawberries with chocolate sauce afterward.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am very fortunate to have our children be close at heart to us,and close in proximity to us as well. Seeing them is a boost to my Husband and I, and being able to have them gather here for dinner gives me a very blessed joy. My Husband loves having them here as well. He may be dozing in his chair, or just snuggled in but he basks in the warmth of their presence. 

Sometimes... I have to drop heavy hints to get them (all, at once ) here... and pray. This happened tonight by accident... although I had been hoping and praying for it for at least 2 weeks. Having most of them here together is such a good thing. Our middle daughter has made it a priority to come over during the day... she spends time with me and her Father. Her schedule allows for this. The other children are not as lucky to have such a schedule... and the other ones are still in the process of finding their place in our new position in Life... living with cancer.  We all deal with this differently. Pray for your children while respecting their manner in which they are dealing with what is happening. Talk to them.  It is all hard... but it is made easier by it being hard while standing together. 

 Blogs are kind of like strange memoirs for people who feel they can not write.

I am going to memoir it up here I have decided.

The name I chose for this blog.... 9 years ago

 Gathering Feathers ~ Scattering Stones....Means something to me spiritually... and live life-ely
 So far, I have written a lot about death and loss, redemption and Rebirth....
Gathering Feathers.... gathering the emotions of hurt left behind and making peace with it, as well as the feathers of those I love who have passed away.
Scattering stones...addressing those issues, creating with stones, loving the things that God put on the Earth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Mother gave birth to me on her Sister's 25th Birthday.
It was a hot August day.
My Mother smoked a carton of Pall Mall Menthol cigarettes during her labor with me.
She told me that my Aunt, My Uncle and my Father were all outside of the window where she spent her labor, my Aunt yelling in to her to hurry it up and birth me because she was going to miss giving her her birthday present. I think my Mother gave birth to me at 11:30 pm. She made it.
I loved my Aunt and my Aunt loved me.
A year after I was born she gave birth to her own little girl... Anne.
We spent so much time together, it was as if we were sisters who didn't live with each other.
We were very close throughout our lives.
Shared the typical joys and heartaches, distanced ourselves from each other, Drawn back to each other, to distance again.... but always had such a tight bond. Our own siblings also had tight bonds with each other...it was very cool that when one of our Mom's was pregnant, the other followed on her heels... so we are matched sets of Cousins basically.... 3 sets for 3 ages.
My Brother lost the other half of his match almost 4 years ago to cancer.
I lost my other half, my Anne this past December. Cancer.
20 days after she passed away my Husband was diagnosed with Stage IV Renal Cancer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And so begins a memoir of a very unimportant person.
Me.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I think that what I will do with this is share a photo of what I created today... and describe what I made to eat.
My Husband is currently very ill with renal cancer... but he is doing well.
I love to cook, but that has taken a back seat because he is not loving to eat right now.
He has lost a lot of weight.
The Dr put him on an appetite stimulant... he takes it sparingly.
The night before last he told me... "Guess what I am craving!" I said... 'what? " He tells me, " I am craving Corned Beef Hash, the kind in a can. I think the name on the can is Hormel"
Well. as soon as he said it... I saw the can label in my mind and went down to the store to buy a can of it.
I heated it up in a pan.
He ate half the can.
Last night, I fried up the other half for him AND he wanted a fried egg on top.
We are making progress.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And so begins the sharing of Our Journey...
The Caregiver who loves her Husband who is trying to get well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I made this Tree Of Life today.
It is Copper Wire sculpted over a little lovely slab of moss agate.
I quite like it.
So does my Husband.
~~~~~~~

Words of Life for today;

This is the Day that the Lord has made, Let us rejoice and be glad in it.
Psalm 118:24

September smells so good, someone should make a mans cologne out of it. A little tiny mix of gasoline scent on there too.
Was thinking of my Father as I mowed. He smelled of September, with some gasoline mixed in there. Made me miss him.
He was a jerk to my Mom, and had terrible character because he was so messed up in his head... but deep inside there was an incredibly awesome person and I loved his deep inside self.
Alcohol and dysfunctional upbringing create surface monsters.
We are amazing beings, that we can love despite the shortcomings and failures of those around us... including ourselves.
I think of our Father God Whose love capacity puts ours to shame. I am humbled and grateful.
Crappy things happen.
Love anyway.
I really love the aroma of September. 
❤️  

To Thine Own Self Be True

That time when you were a kid, and you knew in your heart of hearts that you would meet David Cassidy SOMEDAY.

And, then you did. Over 40 years later. But, you did. 

And, you were just so impressed by the kindness of this man. Because, you knew in your heart that he had been raked over the coals for profit, and you had an idea that he was bought and paid for by a scary media machine.. but that is kind of like a conspiracy theory, right? I mean.... who in your life who loved you would allow you to be used this way! 

And your friends... they kind of laugh at you that you went to see him a SECOND time... that you had seen him years earlier... that should have been enough, right? I mean... HAHA.... David Cassidy. And, all the explaining about how good a show he was doing had no bearing on the conversation you were trying to defend. 

How much he loved his Art.... and he had his Art his Talent... his great influences... the artists who he loved, who loved him as well. John Lennon, BB King.... 

His band... comprised of people who respected his artistic ability, sense... who cared deeply for him, and he for them. Having just listened to the new release "Songs My Father Taught Me" it is so evident the respect these people had for him. The shows I saw of his in these later years translate that family feeling as well. 

A man in his element. 

A man not in his element. Used, controlled, and kept in a cage. Never allowed to express his talent. Later, he performed on his terms but the demons had already done their damage...and they are hard to shake when they appear as the ones who should be looking out for your better interest. 

I am shaken by the A&E Biography presented last night about David Cassidy. Not because I am surprised, but because what he went through as a human being was much more tragic than I had imagined... and what I had imagined was pretty bad. 

The work he had been doing these past 10 - 15 years seem to be a reconciliation of what could have been... and should have served as an acknowledgement of his talent. As fans... we should have honored him... not by telling him we loved him so much, and that we wanted to hear "I Think I Love You".... but by what he was putting out. He was putting out himself. And it was pretty awesome. 

The show I had seen in . 2011 or 2012 was a beginning... it was like seeing him making peace with the previous 40 or so years of his life... he honored the series which made him famous, his co-stars, his step mother, his Father, he dipped his toes into his true musical loves but he did not jump in. He referred much to his Mother, Evelyn Ward... sharing his pain in her illness. He shared his love of Family... his marriage, his son. One thing that bothered me greatly about this show in particular was that there were way too many women of my age and older who were sporting the peacock hair and cat suit like wardrobe of the '70s , like they had never grown up.. still stuck in mullet land.... looking for something. He actually had to be whisked off from this show... and I was stunned that at his age of 61 or 62 that this would have to be something still clinging to him.... it was scary and highly disturbing. 

2016, it was as if he had found his groove in being honest with himself out there on stage... he shared about his inspirations, his friendships... the show delved into his history of life. His musical history. His talent was exposed, and it was wonderful! 

I kept wondering later on... what event happened in his life from June of 2016 to February 2017 to have caused this hard slide back into the slime of regret and hurt. We will never know, and it is not for us to know. But, there is something to be learned here. Honor, those you love. That means honoring their life. Build them up, don't break them down. Love them unconditionally. Pray for them. Be kind. Always. Be kind. Pray. Seek God and Pray.

Maybe I am so bothered because I grew up hard. My father was hard... he was not a builder up, he was a destroyer... and I loved him. I loved him so very much, because when he was not destroying he was a pretty cool guy. every body loved my Father. In my own life, I reacted early on to others by repeating that destruction.... but quickly learned that hurting others was not a vehicle I wanted to use to make myself feel better. Because it didn't. 

I spoke for awhile with my eldest daughter today on the phone. We spoke about generational sin, what that means... what it is when we repeat the sins of our fathers... or mothers.. exactly that. Not some hokus pocus bestowed on us by God... but sin we have chosen to transgress in to our psyche... and having an excuse for it. How many generations it can go before someone in that line says... "STOP"!!!!

 David Cassidy... the last year of his life reminds me of a culmination of what happens when we do not let it go.... let it eat us. How many times... do we step out of our wheel but find ourselves thrown back into it? Today, I want to encourage you to step out. Break the cycle. Break the sin. It is what is required of us. No matter who we are. 

I am going to miss this guy. 

Rest In Peace David.

Thank you. 

These photos were taken by me at a David Cassidy concert in June of 2016. As far as I was aware, there were no copyright advisories, warnings... etc. 

Brushing Off The Storm of Inner Negativity

The Storms of Life can make us feeling angry, disillusioned, and betrayed when there seems to be no one who understands and who maybe does not want to understand. 

This photo was taken during a recent winter storm here in the Hudson Valley of NY. Even through ugliness, there is beauty to be found. 

Through the storms of life, we are able to define our friendships and fine tune our future goals. 

Change, is never easy but it brings forth good things.

It also compells us to sweep the cobwebs, do some inner Spring cleaning, get us ready for Summer. 

thank you Lord for Storms. 

Today. My Husband lost his job. Very scary in today's climate. We will survive. And it will be OK. I know this. God is here. Working. I will Scream anyway, only inside my head. Whaaaaaaaat? Haha.

The Scream by Edvard Munch.

Out of retrograde ~ leaving my Father to the Universe

 

So. I guess we are pulling out of Mercury in retrograde by tomorrow. 

After spending these past 3 weeks in some reflection (SOME my EYE!!! LOTS!) I need to now share about my Father. Who, in the previous post about my Mother and Fashion I told that he beat her. Well, he did. I suppose there would be many who would say... he is not worth the effort to write about.  Well, that is not true either. 

In a world that loves to point out dichotomies with no gray area in between.. I can tell you that yes. There is a lot of gray area. Life is  a lot of gray area.

I loved my Father.

As my best friend said in a sympathy card to me after his passing, 'He was larger than Life'. He was. He was the guy who everyone wanted to be around, the guy that his workmates went to for help, the guy who was always ready for a scotch no matter the time of day. He was a guy you could count on. If, you were his friend, and if you had something to offer him in return. But, a kid does not see the IF part. They see the BIG part. The larger than life part. 

He did have a good heart inside. He was a very troubled man. He messed up terribly. My feeling is that, if he did not love my Mother he should have done it right and saved her from the beatings, and us from the abuse as well. Being afraid of your Fathers fury is not the way a kid should grow up...but... plenty of kids have and have survived it.

He felt guilty over his behavior, I know that. He took me to Mass every Sunday over a course of maybe 2 years when I was very young, lets say 5 & 6. He had a terrible temper. It caused him to be highly abusive mentally and physically. When I think about these things I cannot figure out why I loved him! But I did! Maybe because when he was making something, he would throw us a few boards, a hammer, some nails and we would build these horrible things that we envisioned being works of art. When he was cementing he would throw us gloves and sit us down with wet cement to play with (who does that? Who tells kids under 10, have fun with this but don't get it on your skin or it will burn your skin off?) Our Father, that's who and play with it we did. Adding rocks and pebbles to it, pouring over the ground on the side of the house, again making terrible structures that looked like crap but were truly gorgeous to us. And yeah, he did this to get out out of his way...but....we worked right alongside him the entire time. Several Summers up in the Adirondacks, he brought us camping. I will never forget those Summers. Now I realize of course that it was during those times they were having the terrible problems in their marriage. I still do not know particulars, it is their business anyway. But I can express that they were wrong to jeopardize the well being of their children in their quest to find themselves in their own wreckage.

Of course, what is done is done. And the time for forgiveness (again!) is here. I won't mince words.. his funeral... was very hard. We, (my Brother, My Sister, Me) were excluded in spirit although we were there. His girlfriend of more years than he and our Mother had been physically together (for that was another dysfunctional mess...he never gave our Mother a divorce!) really didnt want us there. She tried to get the Church to turn the funeral around in 2 days time after his death to avoid us getting to DE in time. But... we did get there in time. Her children, they went on and on about what a great man our Father was, how good he was to each of them, they shared these wonderful stories of his love for them and I have to say that each word of theirs ripped up my heart every single time. I felt as if I was going to collapse. 

When our Father left our Mother in the early '80s it was after a terrible blow out. A traumatic beating that he gave her. And... I hit him... to get him off of her. I hit him with our horses bridle. I told him to leave, and to never come back. He never did. Essentially, he turned his back on us. WE were his old life, and he went to the woman he had been having an affair with for some time. The woman whose children were praising our Father after death. 

While her children thought it was funny in a way that he was our Father for 20 years, and then theirs for 20 years... I could not find the humor in it. I do not fault them though. Really, what do you say. I do not think they meant for their words to hurt as they did. There were many other things about the whole event of our Father passing that are too upsetting, but none of it was generated by any of his 'step' children. Because I loved him I have been able to forgive him. His girlfriend... is another story and one that I work daily on. Although I have come to a point where I am not harboring negative thoughts against her. So, I am getting some where.

Now, when I think of my Father, I remember the picture of him with my Mother above, or other ones very similar. Choosing to think of him this way is soothing and good. Because that is when he was my Daddy.

So, today, I let these thoughts out to the Universe... out to God... out of my head. I release the negative about my relationship with my Father and embrace the positive. 

This life is too short for negative. Rather, I use it as a lesson, a stepping stone to learn from. I hold more firmly on to God, and I thank God for my Father , who for a short time taught me humility by the simple act of taking me to church for a few short years. 

My Momma ~ good fashion ~ and bad times.

Peasant Blouse

       I am thinking a lot about my Momma. I am thinking about how she was when I was younger. I am thinking about the way she regarded me, and perhaps what ideals she may have held for me, her oldest daughter.
       I grew up in the '70's. Born in 1960. Our life, my brother Sister and I was one of confusing turmoil. Our Father, beat our Mother. Regularly.
       I remember, that I was always upset with her for not standing up for herself. I always thought she was weak, and I also thought she did not care about us. I could not have been more wrong, on all counts.
       My Mom, she had a lot of class, along with a great sense of good fashion. I was an overweight self depreciating teen. I hated myself. I hated everything. Now, I know that what I hated most was that a weekend didn't go by that our Father did not demean our Mother in some way. AS a child, yeah, even an old child who grew up with it there is some form of accountability, guilt, shame, etc associated with growing up this way. I do not know how she felt,. she never said, we never ever talked about what happened to her. She never asked me how I felt about it, she never acknowledged that yes... the night before he cracked a chair over her head and hit her till she hid under the table. What she did instead was, while kids my age were buying and wearing cheap frocks from India making them all the rage, we went to a beautiful boutique uptown and she bought for me to wear fine peasant blouses crafted in cotton gauze's and finely tatted bodices. When I wanted the ski vest that everyone was wearing she looked at them and felt they looked like the Michelin Man... gauging how terrible I would look in such a thing and mail ordered a REAL Ski vest by Aspen IN my school colors that was so unbelievably gorgeous that I never felt bad about not wearing exactly what the other gals were. 
        All of my clothing was ordered from JC Penney and it all fit perfectly and looked wonderful. I was not allowed to have the status Quo... I had to have the best and that was that. 
       For a short time my Mom and Dad were hanging out with different people.  Charlie and Ruth Noller. I will never forget them. There was a respite from the hitting, and there was a nice little honeymoon time. They started going out to dinners, and they went to NYC to go to see Pippin. I remember when My Mom was looking for the perfect dress... there was a gorgeous boutique in the next town over. She bought 2 halter dresses, long dresses that had medallions in the solar plexus area. One dress was a tie dyed mermaid hued gown in velvet, the other a tiny floral print in earth tones in a rayon type material. She looked absolutely stunning in them, and she got to use them several times... happily. During this time, I was taking Chorus in school. I was very upbeat about it, I loved it! My Mother knew I loved to sing (since I was quite young... having memorized the entire soundtrack of Mary Poppins and keeping pace and pitch with it's entirety) She began to buy for me gowns for performances. I had several simply beautiful ones. I would wear them for a performance, but always made sure I used them for Thanksgiving or Christmas.
       During that crucial time of teenaged dome... the beatings began again. She withdrew into herself. I blamed her even more for what was happening.
       It was never her fault. However she reacted, what ever she did or didn't do. It was never her fault. I have forgiven myself.. but I still feel ashamed for having given her more grief on top of what she felt she could not handle already. I love my Mother so much. 
  Peasant Blouse pictured above.

30 Days until Spring

       It has been snowing most of the day here... again. Yesterday it was snowing as well. Now, I have not written down every storm we have had but for the past few years we have used an "Old Wives Tale Formula" that whenever you get the 1st snow that you can track a cat in (that would be an inch I guess...) you take note of what numerical day it falls on and that is how many winter storms will occur throughout the Winter Season. The 1st snow was in November, near the end of November... in the 20's...this Old Wives Tale seems to be holding up the past few years!
       SO, it is 30 days until Spring. I had said in my previous post that I was feeling rather down, rather tired I guess. Stress. I still feel that way, a bit. Not as bad as I felt before. My daughter and I will be going down to the basement in a bit to pick up items off the floor and make sure that the way is clear for the sump pump. I am praying for no water... it is very depressing when water comes through and makes a big mess. 
       As far as this being a blog... it is more a journal I think. Public, yes, but no one actually follows it anyway. I need to get thoughts out and sorted. What better way to sort confusion than posting on a public forum. It forces one to clean up the cobwebs. Spring, brings new beginnings. Let this be one.

Mercury has retrograded me.

     I normally love winter, I anticipate the snows, I enjoy the crisp air, being outside. This Winter, I have enjoyed our storms, and cleaning up after them. The last storm we got around 11" of beautiful sparkly snow. The day and a half earlier we got about 3.5". My Husband and daughter at home have been quite sick with a terrible upper respiratory infection that turned into bronchitis. Neither of them have been able to help with these past 2 snows. I handled the first one fine on Monday, I took both of them to the Dr., then we drove through the terrible weather getting prescriptions filled and squeezed in a small lunch while waiting for the prescriptions at the best Diner in town (actually I feel it is the best Diner in the Hudson Valley but that is just me). We got home, I  helped to settle them in to relax then we all were set to enjoy our little snow day. That night, I shoveled our entire driveway , sidewalks, and parking spots with our Wovel (The Wovel ), happily enjoyed that workout then came back inside to settle in for the night.
     The following day was our Grand Daughter's Birthday. I picked up her and her Mom at 6 AM, usually she is brought to our home but my daughter's van was in the shop. Later, we picked up my daughter from work took the Grand Daughter and she out to lunch then we went to pick up the van. They left, I got ready for my afternoon of making jewelry and getting things ready for a show happening this weekend. Phone rings, it is my daughter in hysterics. Van has totally died... has to go back into shop. I take the two of them home (they live a few towns and almost a half hour away). Day#2 basically shot.
     Day #3, wake up to lots of snow. The day goes along, I am cleaning, re organizing, enjoying the day but dreading the shoveling because the Wovel will not work in large snow amounts. (the Wovel is great, you get the job done quicker and with better cardio results in my opinion!) I finally get out there to shovel. Did half the sidewalk. The highway plow comes by and puts the same amount of snow right back into the sidewalk. I begin to feel overwhelmed and severely stressed. I finish the sidewalk and go back in the house. My husband had since gone upstairs to lay down, my daughter the same. The nice together loving woman I usually am has turned into a fire breathing monster. Everything beyond this point begins to unravel. My thoughts enter a dangerous time machine,and I am brought back to other terrible times, feelings, the works. This... is not good. I experience a horrific range of emotion, some of which I had not experienced for many years. I blamed it on this last snow but it is only really terrible unhealthy stress. 
     My daughter tells me that Mercury is in retrograde. This is what is going on. I need to re visit old hurts and patterns and rectify them before this 3 week period is up so my life will be better. What I need, is to get rid of all the unnecessary stress in my life... the unhealthy stuff because if I don't I am going to have a heart attack.
     Today was much better to deal with. I look forward to better days,and promise myself to stop stress in it's tracks. I also pray for the next snows to be kept under 4".

Wanting to keep healthy for that Vivie.

    When this picture was taken in 2009 I had just turned 49 years old, was still smoking and my Grand Daughter, Vivie was 6 months old. My goal at this time was to quit smoking.
    4 years later ~ I quit smoking in March, 2011. It took a long time for my lungs to feel better, I would say at least (progressively) 2 years. This year I am not feeling the weight on my chest. I really felt like I had turned a page this past New Year with the difficulty breathing at times. My lungs are good,and the bronchial (which has always been my weak source) seem a lot better.
    Last September I joined a local Planet Fitness. It had got me in the habit of GOING to the gym. But seriously there is only so much you can do there... and I never feel as if I am pushing myself in the RIGHT ways. I have a lot of weight to lose, and if I lost 80 to 100 pounds that would be perfect.
I show my jewelry in a local spot here. It is a wonderful art complex, Cornell Street Studios. Not only is there art, jewelry, crafts, clothing, etc....but....there are exercise classes. And, they are wonderful!
Last year I took a Zumba class but was finding it was a bit too much for me,and when I pulled a muscle in my calf I was embarrassed and did not go back. After the gym membership and more walking I went back to classes recently, the first class I went back to was Zumba-ish and is called Zumba Toning. It was a really great class. Then I took a 25 minute Workout on the Go in March for 6 weeks. This June, I signed up for Workout on the Go, Pilates, and a Butt and Gut workout.
    Through the Pilates,and Butt and Gut (which a a beautiful flow of kickboxing, tai chi, pilates, and yoga) I have discovered that my feet and legs are a mess. I did not think they were actually even though I have quite the frustrating bunion that has formed on my right big toe....and one just beginning on the left.
    I have a lot of work to do. Last night I attended a little seminar about weight loss. A Dr was there who showed a graph of how people CHOOSE to age. The graph showed on average a decline from age 40, sloping down into the 70's (if you got that far) basically a slow process of dying rather than the preferred "live it well, into the '70's and beyond healthy and die 2 weeks after your body gets ready to naturally" that was a pretty powerful inspiration since it is exactly what I saw my Mother do and she died last year 4 months shy of her 71st birthday.
    So, even though I have been working up to it for 2 years... today is a NEW day. I have taken my measurements, I have not weighed myself because I do not have a scale...(last scale was terribly off...in my favor actually, but why lie to yourself? It went to the dump recently and I am saving for a good scale...or will just use the gym one) One of my downfalls has been enjoying a COCKTAIL 3-4 times during the week, and one always turns into 2. My goal is to switch the cocktail to wine, and reduce the frequency to 1-2 times a week.
     A whey protein smoothie for breakfast (NO SOY), and either that for lunch or a nicely balanced Mediterranean lunch, as well as dinner. WATER. (coffee...because I just cant give that up. It is too good. the darker the better)
     LOTS of foot exercises. For sure. I really do not want bunion surgery.
That's it. For Now.
    And as always you are welcome along here for the ride with me. I write these things for myself, but you never know when others may be interested.
    Have a great day!
         ~Beth

Into The Fire

 Sometimes. All it takes, is a word a gesture, a look to bring you round robin to where you know you should be headed. Ask, and you shall receive. I asked. I received. I was shocked, but a clearer answer could not have been stated. Thanks be to God.

My Mother

Judith Ann Connor, 70 passed away on Monday, June 4^th in Cumming, Georgia at the Chestnut Ridge Nursing & Rehabilitation Center from her battle with cancer.

Judith was born October 20^th, 1941 in Newburgh, New York to the late George Hershel Lozier and Ann Rhome Lozier. She was a 1959 graduate of Newburgh Free Academy. She was employed at West Point Visitors’ Center in Highland Falls, N.Y. She was a colorist of antique etchings for many years. She was also a Boy Scout Den Mother in her younger years.

Judith loved horses. For a time in her life weekends were filled with her youngest daughter competing in horse shows with the family mare, Brandy. In her later years she enjoyed creating adorable teddy bears for her Grand Children and Grand Nieces and Nephews. She had a great sense of humor, and will be lovingly remembered by many for it and for her unique personality.

Judith was preceded in death by her sister, MaryJane Garitta in 1996 and her husband, Charles John Connor in 2011.

She is survived by her children, daughter Elizabeth Post Johnson and her husband Alan  of Port Ewen, N.Y. , son Tracy Connor of Cumming, Ga and daughter, MaryJane Collins and husband Allan of Angier, NC. She is also survived by 5 grandchildren: Danielle Connor, Liz Johnson, Rebecca Johnson, Sara Collins and Shane Collins. One great grandchild: Genevieve Cozza.

A Memorial service will be held on June the 30^th , 10 AM  at St Remy Reformed Church with Pastor David Brechter.

In lieu of flowers, memorials may be made to Halcyon Hospice Foundation of Cumming, Ga at www.chcmg.com

Or the American Heart Association  at www.heart.org

Loss

     In January I reported here that my Mother was diagnosed with Terminal lung cancer.  My Mother died last night at 10:26 pm. The above picture is she at the tender age of maybe 6 months being held by her sister. My Mother's sister died in 1996 from the same type of cancer.  When my Aunt died my Mother was never the same afterward.
     Last night, I was on Facebook after having talked to my Brother who has been by our Mother's side throughout this whole terrible ordeal. He told me that it was apparent that her kidneys were shutting down. He thought she would probably pass away in the early morning hours of today. She was having hourly doses of morphine by mouth (her veins were not being cooperative for an IV) because she was in a lot of pain. She was having difficulty taking breaths as well. 
     After my Brother told me about this, I prayed. I thought about my Mother, and her Sister.  I thought about this picture. I pulled up it's scanned likeness on my computer, and I prayed. I asked God to let my Mom's Sister pull my Mom toward her to bring her to Heaven. As I prayed and cried, I posted this picture to my Facebook as my profile at 10 pm. My Mother passed away 26 minutes later.
     Talking to my Sister today, I told her this little story. She shared that she too had been holding a picture of our Mother and our Aunt, and prayed the same thing. At 10 pm. I told her that maybe it wasn't us asking then, maybe it was our Aunt telling us that she was coming to get her baby sister.
     Right now, we are trying to make arrangements for a memorial service for our Mom. Brother is in GA, Sister in NC, me here in the Hudson Valley, NY where we all grew up. My Brother is taking care of the paperwork,and other things there (oh, it is just such a pain!) and keeping his sanity. My Sister is writing an obituary to keep hers. I am writing this. I will share more about our Mother in future writings. She has had an incredibly difficult and tragic life. One of my friends called her a great woman today,and she is right. Through the grief and unfairness my Mother endured in life, her countenance was (for the most part) cheerful and steadfast. My nephew stated today that she was strong and happy. That is true as well.
     I am praying for arrangements and family matters to go smoothly. I am praying for direction. I am thanking God for my Mother and my family. Sorting through emotions is going to be difficult, I am praying about that as well.
     OK. Tomorrow is another day. How about that glass of wine.

Assumptions

Do we make a mistake to assume that everyone else around us do not appreciate the blessings in life? Certainly we are a society that moves fast, in everything but I think perhaps it is wrong to feel that when we are blessed by something it is up to us to correct the masses and see just what they have been missing, assuming that they are too self centered to see.

She wore blue satin.....

This little angel is 52 years old. I believe that makes her a homemade antique. My Grandmother made her. My parents first Christmas together, my Mother lamented that she had no angel for the tree. Grandma took a wrapping paper tube, pretty blue fabric, a styrofoam ball, sequins, and sparkly rick rack. She whipped her up and glued some doll hair to her head. Back in the day, for my Family anyway, it was customary for the Christmas Tree to appear on Christmas Morning which meant that the couple, or parents put up the Tree on Christmas Eve. After I was born, this was how it was for maybe 5 years. Santa brought the Tree. My Mother's need for the Angel would have arrived on Christmas Eve, 1959. The Angel remained as our Family tree topper for all of the years of my childhood, and teenage-dom. For me, she is a symbol of young love (my Mother was 18 years old when she married) and naivety . I like to remember and think of my parents together during this time. He had not yet scared the hell out of her, and she did not yet feel trapped by circumstance, ignorance and children. This little Angel, she has see a lot of happiness and grief during her 52 years. There are a string of years where, if she wondered, her thought would have been, "why have I been forgotten?" a thought I can relate to along with my Mother, Brother and Sister. I love this Angel. She is a symbol of my life and Family and probably the only item I would choose to have cremated with me. I begin this new year of 2012 with much reflection and will continue these thoughts here. My Mother was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer 2 weeks before Christmas 2011. There are many things I wish I could change for her, for the better in her history. Many ways I wish our stories had been different... but then..we would not be who we are today without our stories as they are. For better, for worse, it is what it is.

Is there a light at the end of the road?

Tunnel, Road, doesn't matter. I took this picture this week while we were on vacation in Brewster, MA. To the left of this road is the house that we stay in, which is Grandma's House (my Husband's Grandmother who passed away in 2004) . One of my favorite scene's is this one, and it happens at a certain time of day in the late afternoon and lasts only for about an hour or less every day as long as the sun is indeed out.
Cape Cod was certainly full of Sun in abundance during our stay this year. It was a beautiful time and we enjoyed our stay although I became sick halfway into it and returned a day earlier than planned so that I could get a Dr visit in on my Birthday, which is today. To be quite honest, I feel terrible today. I have strep throat, a fever, rashes, all kinds of fun things that were making me wonder just what the heck is going on. Unfortunately for me, they all just decided to occur at the same time. As my Dr. said, One Stop Shopping. So! Loaded down with lots of prescriptions I came home, took my meds and went to bed. Sometimes in Life, you just feel like everything is going against you. Key, word, Feels (and like) because just sometimes stuff happens in a long string. I am forcing myself to make the time to see the light at the end of the road...even if it is fleeting.
I do not want to discuss my string of negativity. I thought I did a few weeks ago, but some issues are better left to be private ones.
Now I am healing, my meds are working and my Hubby and my Daughter are making special plans for today to be very nice for me. I am blessed with lots of Love and goodness. Thanks be to God.

In The Summer

In The Summer...this is how I would like my life to be. I should like to go for a 3 or more mile walk in the early morning, come home, put on coffee and go into our little pool. I would like to straighten up our home, which would already be fairly straightened (ok, this is bordering on my 'summer miracle') Then arrange my beading or paints out on the deck and spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon doing either, then run whatever errands I need to, get dinner started, and have a glass of wine. It never turns out anywhere near that, but that is my ideal. I think I need to read different books. Happy Summer!