It Really WAS Good!


So, when I was a kid I had this love for certain sandwiches. I ate one almost every day, when I got home from school. It was not your typical sandwich, mind you, but I looked forward to it!

Here’s the recipe: I got two pieces of Wonder Bread (white bread wasn’t vilified back in those days). I placed them side by side on a plate. My mouth was watering by this time! Then I would add the magic ingredients: four Oreo cookies, arranged just so! Placing one piece of bread on top, I had myself a meal, baby! That first bite was always so amazing! No need for condiments. The icing mixed perfectly with the lovely taste of chocolate cookie wafers and Wonder Bread. Doesn’t it just make your mouth giddy with anticipation?

Okay, okay…so in college, long after the days of my after-school treats, a thought occurred to me. "I do not have much money. Would an Oreo Cookie Sandwich would still be tasty? It certainly would be cheap and would last a long time…”

All I'd have to buy is one loaf of bread and a package of Oreos, so I tried it. By this time, health conscious people were at least trying to eat wheat bread. So I drove to the grocery store, reluctantly grabbed a loaf of wheat bread, hoping for the best. I snatched up a package of Oreo cookies and headed home for my experiment. On the drive home, I was already pretty hungry. I could not wait to taste my old friend, the Oreo Cookie Sandwich. “This is going to be awesome!” I thought expectantly.

I arrived home. I got out a plate. I placed two pieces of wheat bread on the plate. I then carefully placed the Oreo cookies. Placing the second piece of bread on top, I prepared for the first delectable bite. Oh my goodness! I was shocked! I cannot believe how utterly disgusting it tasted! I stopped myself from spitting it in the trash can, trying to give it some time to grow on me. After I swallowed it (gagging a bit), I looked at the sandwich and wondered, “What in the he** was I thinking?” Into the trash it flew! Ewww…never trust those childhood memories!

Why Now?

"We couldn’t ask for more beautiful day!" said the man to his wife, as they sauntered through the park together, hand-in-hand. His wife was quiet, but she smiled sweetly. “She finally seems content.," he thought silently. The events of the last few months had exhausted his wife. But now, she seemed to rise from her depression, fresh and confident. They could start anew, unburdened. Feeling relieved, he turned to see an elderly woman on a bench, knitting a tiny, infant-sized sweater. Tears filled his eyes. “Well, this insanity,” he thought. But as he dropped his wife’s hand and crouched to his knees, covering his red, sobbing face in embarrassment, he cried like he never had before. He began to grieve the loss of their unborn child. His wife knelt beside him, cradling him. He heard her whisper softly, “It is about time you cried, my dear sweetheart. Thank you.”

Who is he?

His sad, clown-like eyes shine a deep but vibrant brown.  A mess of amber hair is sliced with a patch of white at his right temple.  His nose twitches.  I watch his eyebrows express curiosity as well as laziness as he looks about the room without moving his head.  His lower jaw juts forward to reveal a peek-a-boo lower tooth, refusing to hide behind his lip. His tiny chin is covered with an old man's beard, long and white. His soft belly rises and lowers in a soothing, meditative rhythm, begging to be scratched. He is my Shih Tzu, Barry.

Give and Take

"I require proof of everything!" snorted the haughty man. The Mystic replied, "If you require proof of everything,you will never reach Enlightenment." There was a long silence, while the two men sipped hot green tea. The man, staring at the crude, dirt floor, sighed. with impatient irritation. "How do you expect modern-day society to accept that which you cannot explain, touch or feel? You are asking us to place reason aside in favor of something that is merely a nebulous proposition. That is just not reality." There was another long and uncomfortable silence, after which the Mystic replied, "You come to me seeking the key to happiness. Yet when it is offered to you, your back is already turned. That, indeed, is a most sad reality."

The Most Interesting Person I Have Met This Year

Her eyes sparkle with nervous energy.  Her laughter and enthusiasm make her appear to be on the verge of almost happily jumping out of her own skin at any moment while speaking.  She looks me directly in the eye and I sense that she is genuinely grateful for the stolen chance to tell me of her difficult journey.  She shares her heart-wrenching, tragic story, with an abundance of comedy to soften the razor-sharp edges. While she speaks at long length, she has the remarkable ability to mesmerize me.  Awestruck, no one shifts in their seat. I am glued to my chair, even though my bladder says otherwise.  No potty breaks for me- I must hear her every word. She tells my story- the story of a part of my life that has not yet happened.  With alternating terror and hilarity, she moves me back-and-forth between raucous belly-laughs and silent, held-back tears.  She narrates with the charisma of a Southern preacher, alternating her voice between barely audible words to fiery exclamations. As she abruptly ends her awesome talk to take a seat, I am acutely aware that I have been touched deeply by her beautiful spirit.  She is my sister in Spirit, telling me how bad it can get.  She validates the ominous warning: all I have is “a daily reprieve contingent on the maintenance of my spiritual condition.”  My heart is full.

The Letter

During my daily walk, an unusually high wind gust picked up a piece of crumpled paper and gently placed it at my feet. I picked it up and read:

"Dear son: As the care of you has become too burdensome for my drug-addicted mind and body to bear, I have chosen to leave you with your Mi-Ma.  I know she will take good care of you.  Will you ever forgive me for being so weak?  Your life will be better off without me.  You are now the five-year-old, “man of the house.”  Take good care of your grandmother, she is frail.  Love, Mom.”

I have often wondered what happened to this poor little boy and his grandmother.  If only I knew more…At this point, I kneeled to pray on the sidewalk.  I am so grateful for my family.

Serially Lost

Today I am writing about a loss: something or someone that was part of my life that is not anymore.  One of my earliest and most significant losses was the loss of my first dog.  His name was Bouvier, but we called him Boot-wa.  It was a cold, snowy night in Lee's Summit, Missouri.  The snow was about one foot deep and very fluffy.  Outside was a winter wonderland for children to play in.  There would definitely be no school the next day.  I put on my coat, hat, gloves and boots and went outside through the automatic garage door to shovel my neighbor's driveway; she was always good for a bunch of money after she had been drinking!  My dog had been in the garage in his usual back corner, sleeping away. 

The next part is difficult to write about.  As the garage door was going down my dog must have slipped out into the snowy darkness.  I had no idea.  He was a white poodle; about 25 to 30 pounds in weight, and against the snow one would have never seen him in the darkness.  When I returned home, I realized my dog was not in the garage.  It was several hours later, as I had taken the opportunity to play in the snow.  I by the time I got back and told my dad that the dog was nowhere to be found,  it was too late.  My sweet poodle had frozen to death, and we found him in the street covered in snow.  I wondered why I had not looked back as I left the garage, earlier that night.  I felt a heavy burden and a monstrously deep regret for being responsible for the death of my beloved canine.  

Yes, I was but a child who made a mistake; but I still feel the pain, thinking about it, some forty years later.  After that, I began taking in every stray dog  I  could find.  My poor father endured my version of repentance and accepted my strays as family.  This really helped heal my pain.  I am so grateful he understood.

My Old Blog!
http://lifeskills-with-mo.blogspot.com/

Three Important Songs in my Life

One of the most meaningful songs in my life is, If I Could Fly.  “I’d pick you up and take you into the sky and show you love like you have never seen, ever seen.”  When I was a teenager, I used to listen to that song and it would make me wish for a love of my own.  It reminds me of a fairytale of a man riding to me in beautiful carriage with a white horse pulling it. This is a man who would care for me for the rest of my life.  I found out that this is not a realistic expectation in life.  However, it is a beautiful dream that I hold in my heart, especially having been adopted.  I have dreams of being rescued, and that song says it so well. I was rescued by my beautiful adoptive parents!

The second song that means a lot to me is, Sad Café by the Eagles.  "Oh, it seemed like a holy place, protected by amazing Grace, and we would sing right out loud, the things we could not say. We thought we could change this world with words like love and freedom, we were part of the lonely crowd inside the Sad Café."  When I first heard that song as a teenager, it described my yearning to break free from oppressive authority figures.  I had a need to express myself in a way that I could not put into words.  This song says it all for me, even today.   

The third song that means a lot in my life is At Last by Etta James.  Although, it speaks of love that is amazingly romantic but highly co-dependent, I love the idea of thinking, “At last, my love has come along, and my lonely days are over, and life is just a song …” That is what I want life to be- just a song! I realize that I can "make my own music" without anyone else to complete me-this is one of the greatest things that I have learned in my 48 years.  (Heck, I am a musician!) Nevertheless, the idea is still appealing!

A Most Desired Place

If I could zoom through space at the speed of light, I would go to San Diego.  The space where my story will unfold is a beautiful beach that is very safe and well inhabited. Soft waves lapping upon the sand is only sound I hear.  The night sky would be a gorgeous indigo color with sparkling stars as far as I can see. The humid air would be about 80°, which is warm for nighttime, but the sea breeze would make it quite comfortable. The beach would be clean and free of debris, so that I can take off my shoes and walk for miles without stepping on any trash left by ungrateful souls.   

As I long to feel the air on my skin, I have a very beautiful white sheer wrap over a swimsuit, making me feel like an angel as the wind blows the light fabric to and fro.  The people on the beach are quiet, older, beach-dwellers. They are living their lives in peace and harmony while loving their families and surroundings.  Each person is acutely aware of how blessed they are for the gift of this fabulous place in which they play every day.  As the waves come closer to my feet, I feel the warm water rushing past my toes.  The water is so warm and inviting.  It is soothing and cleansing me.  I walk slowly and peacefully, enjoying this serenity that is the overwhelming shared energy of everyone on the beach tonight.  I am happy to be alive.

Writing 101: day 1 (free-writing)

04/07/2015 16:06 - This is my first day of Writing 101. I have a super inner critic that always keeps me from free-writing. I believe that I must have the final draft done while I am writing the first draft!  This is a problem that came from my early education. When I would have a paper to write, I would always think about the paper mad outline it in my head up until the night before the paper was due.  At that time, I would write out the paper, go over the grammatical errors and handed it in the next day.  Therefore, by writing something and handing it in quickly I have virtually lost the ability to free-write. I have to think too much and for too long about what I'm going to write.

This is why I am in writing 101! Online, it has a daily prompt which allows me to have an idea in mind. Having a disability, I use speech-to-text input, so I am actually speaking right now, not writing.  Hopefully my inner critic won't be as critical when I speak as it is when I write. I don't know if that's true or not but this first day of writing I’m supposed to write or speak for 20 minutes .Wow. Free-writing fear: it is a curse to have lost this ability that any child has.  I started writing at 4:07pm which means I have to continue till 4:27pm. Yikes!  What do I say? What’s going through my mind? I feel like a second grader who has been asked to complete an assignment that is way too difficult! Isn’t that silly? I have a doctorate.

Anyway, I just got back from Houston, seeing my dad who lives in Channelview, Texas, which is a suburb of Houston. It was so nice and warm there!  I have a disability which makes cold weather a terrible pain literally in my neck. It hurts my body all over to step out into an icy cold day, even when I have proper clothing on. The stress that cold causes my body makes it tense up and I have a very hard time getting warm after I have become too cold. I have spinal stenosis which is a narrowing of the spinal canal. I also have cervical and lumbar radiculopathy which makes it difficult to move my lower back and my neck.  I also have fibromyalgia and arthritis which doesn't help at all, so when it hurts it really hurts!  

My son and daughter are teenagers. I love them very much. I live in the Midwest in a city outside of Overland Park, Kansas. This is a great place to raise children. However, when my children graduate from high school (one graduates this year and one graduate in two years) it's time for me to move to a milder climate. I like it hot- very hot! Kansas City and the surrounding areas here have wide temperature ranges.  In the winter, we have below zero temperatures and in the summer we have temperatures above 100.  Our city sits right in the middle of the jet stream, which is the cause for the huge fluctuations in temperature. large changes in temperature really affect my arthritis and other conditions .I really need to move somewhere where temperatures are not so wide in their ranges .I would like to move somewhere south such as Texas, New Mexico, Arizona or Southern California -anywhere but here!

 It’s difficult because my mom lives here and my dad lives in Houston.  As a 48 year old woman, I don't need to live too close to any family members. I like my privacy! But I would like to be within range, were they to become ill.  They are both in good health right now, so in two years I plan to move! So, where should I move? I've gone over this in my head a thousand times during the past 3 years, but now that I'm within 2 years of my son's graduation and my daughter ‘s graduation in May of this year, I am scared-absolutely terrified!  

What criteria are best to use when I decide where I will move, other than temperature changes? I would like a place that is low in crime and close to a large city, so that I may still enjoy all the arts and music that I enjoy here in Kansas City, but how am I supposed to know where these places are?  It’s almost like a crap shoot -I feel like I should just close my eyes and put my finger on the southern part of the map in my atlas!  By the way, I just ordered a brand new 2015 Rand McNally atlas- I'm so excited! I can't wait for it to get here- it's going to be wonderful! It has hotspots and mileage calculators and wonderfully blown up images of towns I would never even think to look at.  So now the internet research Begins.  I have a feeling I should have begun back in the fifth year prior! Now that I am in the second year before I move, I feel pressured.

Who knows how long it will take for me to get on the waiting list where I will live? As a disabled person I am in HUD programs.  Currently, I use a HUD housing voucher so I can move virtually anywhere that they will take it. I have found that a well-educated person who has become disabled does not experience the usual discrimination that a poverty-stricken, lesser-educated person in procuring good housing. That's good for me-but not so good for other HUD voucher participants .oh well, the system is broken and all I can do is live in it for now so if anyone has any suggestions on where I should go… maybe a little bedroom community that is close to San Diego or Los Angeles or Tucson .I don't know what the deserts like… I've heard that it gets super hot with low humidity during the day and kind of chilly with low humidity at night.

 I do best in high humidity. I don't know why,  but I noticed that as soon as I stepped off the plane at Houston Hobby Airport the humidity and warmth was like a warm bath that soothed my body,  so I'd like to go somewhere that feels like that. I know Florida is known for its warmth and humidity, but I'm deathly afraid of hurricane season. How do all those people survive? Yes, I live in tornado alley here in the Midwest and they have asked me the same thing: Floridians often say they would never want to live where there's tornado threat during the spring in summer seasons, but I say the same to them!  I would never want to live where there is a hurricane threat during certain seasons. Maybe it's not as bad as I think. A lot of people live in Florida and love it, but what do you do when a hurricane comes? Do you hide?  Do they even have hurricane shelters in Florida? Do you rebuild after you ride out the storm? Is it not as bad as I think it is because I've never experienced it?  Who knows?  Here in Kansas we go to the basement when the tornado is threatening us.  If we don't have a basement, which I do not, then we go to an inner room:  (the innermost room is usually a bathroom or closet) and wait out the tornado threat. So maybe Florida wouldn't be so bad.  There sure are a lot of people there.

 I would love to be in-land, but be able to drive to the water and spend the day whenever I want.  So what cities in Florida are good for that?  I know there are a lot of communities in Southern Calif. I have read that there are great for disabled retired people. I've been reading on the internet about these places. The AARP site has a list of places in Southern California that are great for retirement. Maybe it's time that I start narrowing down that list. I don't know why I'm so afraid but my fear has got me stuck so these 20 minutes writing exercise is the beginning of my losing my fear!  if I can write( and I feel like I can't) then I can move even though I feel like I can't.  People do it every day: for jobs, illness, family or whatever. So, what makes me so different?

All these ramblings about fear are a waste of time… fear stops me from doing those things that will make my life absolutely wonderful, so it's time to let go of the fear.  I am studying the limbic system and how these hormones work together to create the writer who is stuck.  I'm excited to read the book Writers’ Block, which talks about the amygdala and the panic that ensues when one puts pen to paper like me and can't seem to get past the first word. The study of writers block also help me in my fear of failure because I'm going to understand this fear mechanism that causes anxiety and agoraphobia both of which I have.  My therapist is helping me with this anxiety and phobia.

 Well, my twenty minutes are up. I did it! I wrote for 20 minutes.  Wow!  Writing about my fear was really cathartic!  I am excited about the next two years of my life!  I'm going to get this done and I'm going to be happy. I hope you are happy too.