Day blends into night, night into day. The color is drained from all things around us. Nothing matters. Nothing. What is this that is so debilitating that we can hardly function? It is the devastating loss of a loved one. Nothing can replace that loved one and nothing ever will. So I know others-such as myself- have felt and will feel this loss for years to come.
But I know that the holidays will be the hardest for us to face in the months and years go come. As this holiday blindsided me with pain I thought of others such as myself that are feeling the pain of the Christmas season. I dedicate this blog today to you all. May you know that you are not alone. May we all bond in this common thing-the loss of our loved ones-today.
I dedicate this blog today-this Christmas holiday season-to the memory of my mom and to all of you who are dealing with the pain of the loss of your loved ones too.
May we not feel so bereaved today, may we feel the bond of others who share the loss of pain too.
On this day we are not alone. On this day let us gather together-united as one.
About Me
- Rogue
- I'm a SAHM who began writing, and not just thinking about it, in 2010. I thought graphic design was my future, but was surprised to learn that screenwriting was in my blood. I'm excited to say my first feature length is now being considered for optioning. Life's crazy sometimes, huh? :-)
Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Just As Deadly
It waits in the wings, opportunity just right around the corner. It is silent, ever present. It will get you if you let it. What is this? What is this that can get us at unexpected moments in our lives? It's depression and it's a worthy challenger. One that we need to take seriously.
You might say this is no challenger. This is something that can be controlled. But it's not a pet that you keep from biting someone. It's a deadly enemy that if left untreated can take you down into the pits of hell. It will keep you there then -an unwilling victim- until your voice becomes tiny and far away and eventually it will not be heard again.
It strikes us at any time. And most times we can keep it at bay with positive thinking. With activities that keep our minds stimulated all day. But it's the times when our minds are at rest, it's the times when the sun puts down the shade and the moon comes out to play, that the darkest thoughts can come in, and set up shop again. You might wonder how this narrator can have such knowledge? How would you know, someone might ask? Some might think? This narrator has seen this monster take over a big part of two family members lives- and a big part of her life as well.
So seek the positive, seek the company of friends, seek any positive means of escape. Even break out the old credit card if you have to, to get out and leave those dark clouds of sadness, hopelessness, behind if they are lurking around, because if the hooks of depression get into you they will not leave without a fight.
Depression, deadly, serious, and more than willing to take over your life.
You might say this is no challenger. This is something that can be controlled. But it's not a pet that you keep from biting someone. It's a deadly enemy that if left untreated can take you down into the pits of hell. It will keep you there then -an unwilling victim- until your voice becomes tiny and far away and eventually it will not be heard again.
It strikes us at any time. And most times we can keep it at bay with positive thinking. With activities that keep our minds stimulated all day. But it's the times when our minds are at rest, it's the times when the sun puts down the shade and the moon comes out to play, that the darkest thoughts can come in, and set up shop again. You might wonder how this narrator can have such knowledge? How would you know, someone might ask? Some might think? This narrator has seen this monster take over a big part of two family members lives- and a big part of her life as well.
So seek the positive, seek the company of friends, seek any positive means of escape. Even break out the old credit card if you have to, to get out and leave those dark clouds of sadness, hopelessness, behind if they are lurking around, because if the hooks of depression get into you they will not leave without a fight.
Depression, deadly, serious, and more than willing to take over your life.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Changes...
I looked at the land beside me today and thought about all the changes that had come about in the twenty-four years since I've lived here. Change snuck up on me while my eyes were closed- it seemed. I'd spent so much time working, dating, living, that at first, I didn't even notice the changes that were coming about.
A few years back when my aunt died I thought it's okay my uncle will take care of the land that has been in our family for as long as I can remember. Then my uncle passed away and now the land has lain dormant-in it's for sale phase- waiting for a buyer to see the magic that I already see.
I have many memories of this land. Years ago my mom, brother and I planted rows and rows of vegetables there. How I dreaded that. Morning glories, -fiends from flower weed ville- dominated much of our weed pulling time. My mom did not mind the weeds and happily tended the garden. I, on the other hand looked at the weeds with dread, for it was hot, dusty work that took hours to do.
The years go by- and I get married-and we again move to the land where I had spent the first eight years of my childhood. Marriages-for me-come and go but the land remained a good friend. One that waited quietly at my side -until needed. Comfort food, hot chocolate for my soul.
Eventually housing developments come to our neighborhood. My "country living" with all the peace I'd ever known, became the new hot spot for people moving into the area. Joggers become the norm. Strangers I don't know, bike or walk up and down our road. The road where I rode my bike, raced up and down to get to and come home from work, walked down to the graveyard to visit my twin brother was now a road filled with constant traffic and strangers.
I still see the land,as it used to be, with rose colored glasses, and I guess nothing can change that. I see the turkey's and chickens we once had. I see the kids my mom babysat. I see the tree house where my brother and I played restaurant-using pine cones, and old food, we found, in a tree house my dad built years ago. And I'm still hurrying to do dishes, so long ago, so that I can watch One Life To Live with mom.
I hold my breath and then let it out. I cannot stop change which is coming like a runaway locomotive but I can now be at peace with change. If I close my eyes I can still hear my mom calling to my brother and I. If I close my eyes I can hear the ghosts"of all my past pets" barking joyously at me when I came home at the end of the day. Yes change is here to stay. The land around me will never be the same. But if I close my eyes and think.....I can see again the way it used to be, and nothing can take that away. Nothing.
A few years back when my aunt died I thought it's okay my uncle will take care of the land that has been in our family for as long as I can remember. Then my uncle passed away and now the land has lain dormant-in it's for sale phase- waiting for a buyer to see the magic that I already see.
I have many memories of this land. Years ago my mom, brother and I planted rows and rows of vegetables there. How I dreaded that. Morning glories, -fiends from flower weed ville- dominated much of our weed pulling time. My mom did not mind the weeds and happily tended the garden. I, on the other hand looked at the weeds with dread, for it was hot, dusty work that took hours to do.
The years go by- and I get married-and we again move to the land where I had spent the first eight years of my childhood. Marriages-for me-come and go but the land remained a good friend. One that waited quietly at my side -until needed. Comfort food, hot chocolate for my soul.
Eventually housing developments come to our neighborhood. My "country living" with all the peace I'd ever known, became the new hot spot for people moving into the area. Joggers become the norm. Strangers I don't know, bike or walk up and down our road. The road where I rode my bike, raced up and down to get to and come home from work, walked down to the graveyard to visit my twin brother was now a road filled with constant traffic and strangers.
I still see the land,as it used to be, with rose colored glasses, and I guess nothing can change that. I see the turkey's and chickens we once had. I see the kids my mom babysat. I see the tree house where my brother and I played restaurant-using pine cones, and old food, we found, in a tree house my dad built years ago. And I'm still hurrying to do dishes, so long ago, so that I can watch One Life To Live with mom.
I hold my breath and then let it out. I cannot stop change which is coming like a runaway locomotive but I can now be at peace with change. If I close my eyes I can still hear my mom calling to my brother and I. If I close my eyes I can hear the ghosts"of all my past pets" barking joyously at me when I came home at the end of the day. Yes change is here to stay. The land around me will never be the same. But if I close my eyes and think.....I can see again the way it used to be, and nothing can take that away. Nothing.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Looking Through The Eyes Of Love
I thought about the trust our pets feel for us today as I took my dog to get her rabies shot. She shook as though palsied and refused to look at me again until we were on our way back home.
Only then did she lick my hand and tell me all was forgiven. I felt so bad about the fear she had shown-of the unknown-that it made me think of other animals that might not be going home again, and would have a reason to fear, if they had known the outcome that their future held.
Many animals are part of puppy mills, or females didn't get fixed and they may be destined for the pound or the pet store. The last unfortunate kind of place, may be the home of an owner that may not show the pet the love, or kindness it deserves. This kind of disservice makes me the saddest because how can anyone deny the soulful eyes of a pet that wants only love and words of kindness, to make their eyes light up like the brightest Christmas tree.
So show your pet love today. Let them know they hold a piece of your heart in their paws. And as they look at you through the eyes of love let them know their love is returned a hundred fold.
Only then did she lick my hand and tell me all was forgiven. I felt so bad about the fear she had shown-of the unknown-that it made me think of other animals that might not be going home again, and would have a reason to fear, if they had known the outcome that their future held.
Many animals are part of puppy mills, or females didn't get fixed and they may be destined for the pound or the pet store. The last unfortunate kind of place, may be the home of an owner that may not show the pet the love, or kindness it deserves. This kind of disservice makes me the saddest because how can anyone deny the soulful eyes of a pet that wants only love and words of kindness, to make their eyes light up like the brightest Christmas tree.
So show your pet love today. Let them know they hold a piece of your heart in their paws. And as they look at you through the eyes of love let them know their love is returned a hundred fold.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
The First Winter Snow........
As I looked out at the snow today I remembered snows from my childhood. In my youth-some years back-when they called for snow- it snowed. Now it's hit and miss, but one thing's not changed, kids still look forward to being out of school when it snows.
I remember once staying up until 3:30 in the morning just to be sure it snowed. Later, after I slept some, my brother and I were bundled up by mom, and went outside looking like abominable snowmen. We could barely move but stayed out until our eyes and noses were watering and we could hardly feel our faces anymore.
Then we knew it was time to go in. We'd come in and drip water everywhere, take a break, and get warm, eat a hurried meal, and then out we'd go again.
In the years since my youth- I no longer look at snow that way. It's no longer pretty- but a danger- when ice and snow combine. My daughter now looks at the snow with wondrous eyes the way I once had. I now see -only her as pretty- in her purple Cabela's snowsuit-my walking purple grape-laughing gaily as she rolls in the snow.
So will snow ever hold that excitement for me again as it did in my childhood? Probably not. Will it remain that way for my daughter? Yes, until she grows up and see the dangers that we never see through the eyes of a child. Do I ever wish I was that young again- so that snow could once more hold that fascination for me? Yes. But now I can only do this through the eyes of my child, whose imagination is not tainted by having grown up, for not having the experiences of heading-with no control-towards another car.
So I'll open my heart and enjoy the snow through the eyes of my child. And in this way I'll wait with baited breath as the first few snow flakes fall down from the sky.
I remember once staying up until 3:30 in the morning just to be sure it snowed. Later, after I slept some, my brother and I were bundled up by mom, and went outside looking like abominable snowmen. We could barely move but stayed out until our eyes and noses were watering and we could hardly feel our faces anymore.
Then we knew it was time to go in. We'd come in and drip water everywhere, take a break, and get warm, eat a hurried meal, and then out we'd go again.
In the years since my youth- I no longer look at snow that way. It's no longer pretty- but a danger- when ice and snow combine. My daughter now looks at the snow with wondrous eyes the way I once had. I now see -only her as pretty- in her purple Cabela's snowsuit-my walking purple grape-laughing gaily as she rolls in the snow.
So will snow ever hold that excitement for me again as it did in my childhood? Probably not. Will it remain that way for my daughter? Yes, until she grows up and see the dangers that we never see through the eyes of a child. Do I ever wish I was that young again- so that snow could once more hold that fascination for me? Yes. But now I can only do this through the eyes of my child, whose imagination is not tainted by having grown up, for not having the experiences of heading-with no control-towards another car.
So I'll open my heart and enjoy the snow through the eyes of my child. And in this way I'll wait with baited breath as the first few snow flakes fall down from the sky.
Friday, December 17, 2010
To Go Back In Time....
Today I took my daughter to see a movie. We went to see Tron Legacy. I felt bittersweet as I saw the enjoyment my daughter showed while watching the movie. I felt this way because it brought back memories of my mom and the times we went to see movies over the years.
My mom passed away on the 15th of October of this year and not a day goes by that I don't miss her more, that I don't wish I could turn the clock back and redo some of the things we did. She did so much for me, from taking me on bus tours, to being there as a friend, an advisor, and she was one of my biggest fans- in all the things I did in life.
One of the final gifts my mom gave to me, before she passed on was the belief in myself, and my ability to write. She listened quietly to each thing I read-not a sound-and when I was finished there would be a slight pause, and then she would say that was really, really good.
Each time I passed an exam-with my school-she would again praise me, and then she would tell me she knew I could do it.
So as my daughter and I exchanged smiles during the movie, I wished that my mom could have been there too, sharing smiles with us- as we watched the movie.
I was watching a show tonight and one lady asked her daughter why she was staring at her for so long, the humor being that the mom wanted to do something without the daughter watching her. I laughed at this but it made me think, I wished I had looked at my mom more, I wish I had cherished each moment more that I had with her, because my time with her is now done.
I, therefore, dedicate this blog tonight to the memory of my mom. May you know that I love you mom. May you know that I miss you more than words can say, and may you give me your knowledge and your wisdom, so that I may continue to write and grow as a writer, so that someday I may achieve all that I hope to be.
To the memory of my mom.........
May 11, 1945-October 15, 2010
My mom passed away on the 15th of October of this year and not a day goes by that I don't miss her more, that I don't wish I could turn the clock back and redo some of the things we did. She did so much for me, from taking me on bus tours, to being there as a friend, an advisor, and she was one of my biggest fans- in all the things I did in life.
One of the final gifts my mom gave to me, before she passed on was the belief in myself, and my ability to write. She listened quietly to each thing I read-not a sound-and when I was finished there would be a slight pause, and then she would say that was really, really good.
Each time I passed an exam-with my school-she would again praise me, and then she would tell me she knew I could do it.
So as my daughter and I exchanged smiles during the movie, I wished that my mom could have been there too, sharing smiles with us- as we watched the movie.
I was watching a show tonight and one lady asked her daughter why she was staring at her for so long, the humor being that the mom wanted to do something without the daughter watching her. I laughed at this but it made me think, I wished I had looked at my mom more, I wish I had cherished each moment more that I had with her, because my time with her is now done.
I, therefore, dedicate this blog tonight to the memory of my mom. May you know that I love you mom. May you know that I miss you more than words can say, and may you give me your knowledge and your wisdom, so that I may continue to write and grow as a writer, so that someday I may achieve all that I hope to be.
To the memory of my mom.........
May 11, 1945-October 15, 2010
Thursday, December 16, 2010
One of the hardest things to do
I think that many people don't take the life of a writer seriously. It is just stuff, fluff, words, something to fill our time, instead of going out and getting a real job-some might say. But writing is a very real job. One where we're hard on ourselves long before anyone takes a crack at us.
It takes courage to put your words out there for others to see, whether it be online, via snail mail or in an email to a friend. Maybe as much courage as a lion tamer, or a snake charmer. We-the writers- expose ourselves to thousands of unseen eyes, the lion tamer or snake charmer on the other hand, have the excitement of the moment, and then the danger-hopefully-is gone.
I started out writing just to help with the stress of helping my ailing mom. Now I do it for I don't have peace inside me if I don't. Writing, emailing, submitting articles, in a way, it's like having my own personal journal. In it I can be myself- express myself. In it I can admit what I feel, show the doubts, and worries I don't show to those that know me.
Outside- my family sees this person they can go to for advice, and know that they will care, and listen, inside I am looking for someone to listen too, but sometimes there's just no one there. So on here I can be me. On here I can write what I don't always express to those that know me.
Here I can be a writer. Here I can be free.
It takes courage to put your words out there for others to see, whether it be online, via snail mail or in an email to a friend. Maybe as much courage as a lion tamer, or a snake charmer. We-the writers- expose ourselves to thousands of unseen eyes, the lion tamer or snake charmer on the other hand, have the excitement of the moment, and then the danger-hopefully-is gone.
I started out writing just to help with the stress of helping my ailing mom. Now I do it for I don't have peace inside me if I don't. Writing, emailing, submitting articles, in a way, it's like having my own personal journal. In it I can be myself- express myself. In it I can admit what I feel, show the doubts, and worries I don't show to those that know me.
Outside- my family sees this person they can go to for advice, and know that they will care, and listen, inside I am looking for someone to listen too, but sometimes there's just no one there. So on here I can be me. On here I can write what I don't always express to those that know me.
Here I can be a writer. Here I can be free.
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