What has feminism cost us?

I have been thinking a lot about feminism these days.  I suppose it has come about by a few things.  One of them being by Hilary Clinton running for President of the United States and a good chance of winning.  I really don't want to even talk about that one.  Another is my many conversations with my BFF, husband and daughter.  

I once told my BFF, husband and daughter that I thought that feminism had in part ruined the American family.  I received confused looks from each of them and then I proceeded to explain myself.  

Now don't get me completely wrong.  I love that we have the right to vote and can do anything we want now.  That is really cool.  I also love that men have that choice as well.  Men can do any women job they want.  That is the one good thing that came from the feminist movement.  We are much freer to pursue what is in our hearts and I think a bit better for it.  

I told them that until this bringing home the bacon and frying it up in the pan movement for women,  life was relatively simple for families.  That as women we knew our roles, if we chose to become more than just mothers and housewives, we became that and usually only that.  We did not try and do it all to the detriment of everything else.   

I was a real big believer in the feminist movement until my mother set me straight.  She said that there was nothing more important than being a mother.  To be a wife is an honor and a privilege and to take away from this cherished position only diminishes the role.  She told me the only reason to work outside the home would be to feed your family, if your husband was unable to provide.  

I understood now why she ended up working in my tween years.  My fathers business was in trouble and our family needed to eat.  There was a mortgage to pay.  This caused some issues in between my parents but they ended up sorting things out in the long run.  Of course being the parents they were I never knew they were at odds about my mother going to work, I just knew that was what happened.  

Eventually, as more and more women took to the workforce, the world became an increasingly expensive place.  I am not sure why the world became such a hard place to afford.  I am sure that some economist or historian could answer those questions.  I sure can't   It was impossible for my mother to return to her role as a wife and mother once my fathers business was relatively stable again.  She had to work or we did not eat.  They both had to work or we would not be able to live in our home.  The world was a different place after the movement began and my mom went to work.  

As I became a married women and then a mother, I noticed that not only did I have all my duties as a housewife, mother and a professional, I also was in charge of everything else.  My starter husband had no real role whatsoever. This was not what I expected.  This was not what I had seen in my home growing up. I was beyond disappointed.  

I always expected that I would be a wife and mother with a husband who would be the leader and provider of our home.  That is not what I got.  I truly thought once a baby came, I would stay at home and he would be the bread winner.  So, not what happened.  

Instead, I ended up working harder and longer hours at night, staying up all day with a baby and figuring out everything that came our way.  My starter husband left me because I became a shrill beast of a woman who demanded way more than he could give. I am really sorry for that.  Not a good time in my life.  

I became what my mother raised me to be.  A wife and mother.  All that feminist crap I had bought into in my college days was wiped out with the birth of one child.  I woke up.  I knew what was important, my child and nothing more.  

So, what did I do, a single mother all on her own?  I worked lots of weird shifts and made sure that every single minute I had was with my child.  I placed my daughter in private school and did everything I could to ensure she was always with her mother.  I was very poor.  I worked part time and gave up a lot to be with her.  Every second was worth it.  

I met my husband, one day on a shopping trip.  He changed my life as well as my daughter.  He is a completely old fashioned guy.  We both had a lot to over come.  Both of us have failed marriages, debts to pay and things to do.  The goal was always to have the most traditional relationship as possible with the end result me at home and him the only one working.  We are almost there.  

Why?  Because after much consideration, discussion and pondering we came to the conclusion that it is ridiculous to have two working people in a household.  That a man is most happy when his wife is taking care of him and a wife is most happy at home taking care of her home and husband.  The relationship is better, the household is run better and all is well with the world.  At least our world is.  I feel so sorry for people, when I hear that a women would be bored at home taking care of her children and husband and would desire to be at work instead.  This makes me sad.  Why have either then?  Why have a child or husband to just leave them for a place to make money?  I will never understand that.  

So, back to feminism.  Yes, I think that it has ruined families.  Women, thinking they have to have an education, profession, career, marriage, family with perfection is ridiculous.  How is this possible?  My mother would say that not everyone is meant to have a family or marriage, then why not have one or the other?  Why think you can have it all and be good at it all?  I say choose one and be good at one.  Or give up one to have the other.  Then again, who would give up a child to be a professional for a simple job?  

I honestly think and believe that all children need and should be at home with one parent and the other one needs to be working and bringing home the bacon so to say.  That a budget should be established and whomever is best at money management should be in charge of it and not sway from that budget ever.  I strongly believe that children should be in private school or home schooled.  Religion is paramount and needs to be in every home whatever the faith.  Consistency in every home and parents ever together cemented on every subject.  I believe that feminism has destroyed this.  

Now, we see two working parents, children in daycare, raised by nannies, in public schools, in two parent homes, divorce every where, TV instead of parenting, exhausted parents, no guidance whatsoever.  No daddies at all, Yes, I blame feminism. Well, in part anyway.  

What do you think?  What do you see?  Am I wrong?  Don't you think we would all be better off with one parent at home and the other parent providing.  A home of safety and security for a child to be brought up in.  That perhaps before we all do the deed that might make a baby we should think before we do that thing we all like to do and consider that person is in the making.  Just maybe think before we act?

Makeup and Magic

I was in Sephora the other day for an eyebrow pencil.  I really love that store.  I have always loved makeup.  There is something almost magical about the process of putting it on and becoming better than what you are with paint and color that is so enticing to me, I just can't help myself.  

I remember falling in love with makeup when I was a little girl.  I used to watch my mom meta morph from a caterpillar into a butterfly right before my eyes every day.  She would first put her eyebrows on.   Just enough to make them pretty.  Not all crazy Grocho Marks brows but lady like and soft.  Then she would light that eyebrow pencil on fire and blow it out and draw on her eyes.  Alchemy!!!  Poof ...instant eyes.  Then she would take this contraption and place her eyelashes in them and curl her lashes.  She would hold it for sixty seconds, no more and no less.  Then the mascara, coat by coat until her no lashes were lashes.  A little blush to accentuate her cheeks and lipstick to pull it all together.  

My mom told me how to do this one time as I watched her.  I remembered every step and never forgot.  I believed that it was possible to become beautiful with a few simple tools and at that moment anything was possible.  My mom was very beautiful and did not need much help to make is so but the little she did do to make herself more goddess like was a magical process.  

When I was 12 or so, my cousin Cindy came to live with us.  Her makeup came too.  This was the height of the Disco era.  I learned everything glitter and shimmer.  I was one happy girl.  I learned hot hair rollers and hand held dryers.  I was introduced to big everything.  Thank you cousin Cindy because of you I learned to become an artist.  

In my early high school days I was invited to a Mary Kay party.  What a wonderful thing that was, I think I managed to convince my mom to buy me a whole kit.  Now that I think of it, what cheap makeup.  I thought it was so "fancy".  Little did I know that was the bottom of the barrel as makeup was concerned.  I was just at the beginning of the makeup ladder.  Makeup is one very expensive item and it gets more expensive as you go up.  I used every bit of that makeup and begged for more.  My obsession grew as I learned the art.  

From that day forward, every gift that was possible to give me was makeup.  I began to get into my hair, nails, skin care, shoes, clothes and anything else I could that was beauty related.  I was having way to much fun.  

I remember my family asking me what I thought I was covering up?  I said, me, of course.  I saw a hideous monster in the mirror.  I still kinda do.  They would say, why do you need so much?  Um...to cover up the ugly girl?  Duh?  I learned to put make on flawlessly and for every occasion.  To hide every sin.  I read every book, magazine I could get my hand on.  I had no idea that there was a job that involved makeup or I would have majored in that.  

Oh Teri...you say...your so beautiful.  You don't need makeup.  I say, no.  I remember that I was never chosen first for a dance or a choice in between girls.  The other girl was always chosen before me.  It has always been the other girl.  I could be standing there in absolute perfection and the other girl would always get asked to dance first.  She could be standing in her own urine and wearing a dog mask and she would be asked first.  So, hence...not beautiful. 

I still like makeup and all that goes with it in my middle age.  I don't do it all up like I used to and I realize that it isn't magic like I once thought it was.  I wish it was..don't you?  I do miss being able to put on the bright colors I put on as a younger woman and bright red lips but women of a certain age need to tone it done and just accentuate the best of what is left and not advertise the worst of what has come.  

I do hope that maybe in heaven I can have a really big makeup table with a big mirror and everything that goes with it.  Lots of time and my youth back.  I would sure enjoy that.  The process is really fun and the effect is great as well.  Besides, in heaven there will be all that really great lighting.  

No Good Deed goes Unpunished

My husband and I have the ability to sign people into a very popular California attraction.  We also get a certain amount of free tickets to give out or use as we see fit. Kinda cool thing, right?

I really do not enjoy going to this special place anymore and neither does my husband.  However, Just because I don't like it does not mean I should forget others don't like it.  I feel very fortunate and want to share our good fortune with others.   In fact, I enjoy doing so giving away my good fortune.  Well, I used to like sharing.  Now, I am not so sure. 

However, every time I do so share, I am the one who ends up annoyed and basically harassed.    After I write this post, I might piss off a lot of people but take this with a grain of salt.  This is not to point a finger at anyone person or say anything mean.  Just to show what I put up with in the name of giving and how funny it can actually be.  I love to give as much as I can to everyone I can.  I do not really expect anything in return.  However, sometimes a thank you would be great.  Remember I am a small time blogger that pokes fun at herself and her friends and family.  When you find yourself being angry at me, look at this paragraph and forgive me.  

In the beginning the tickets we received from this magical place were forever tickets and we could hoard them as we pleased.  Now, we have to use them or loose them in a certain amount of time.  I actually, like to see this place at Christmas time and I like to use those  expiring tickets when I cannot use my family pass to get in. 

What you are about to read are true events.  I did not make this up.  I wish I had.  

If I offer to sign you in or give you tickets, that means I want to do that.  I will do everything in my power to make it happen for you.  If you ask me to sign you in or give you tickets, I will do everything I can to make it happen for you.  I want to give this gift to you.  I do.  

Most people think that I can magically appear at this wonderful place with no real effort on my part.  As if I am a magical being and can blink and stardust and moon beams will carry me there.  No, it takes me about 45 minutes of driving time to get there.  I do not get free parking.  I have to pay just like everyone else.  I figured out that I can park where the shoppers park but I have to get there really early and I can only stay three hours or I end up having to pay after that.  Not once has anyone ever offered to pay for my gas, time of travel or parking.  I have taken my whole day off to accommodate people and my desire to get them into this place for free.  

I tell my friends that they need to leave themselves plenty of time to get there due to crazy traffic and to park because they cannot just park.  They will be diverted to far away parking places and bused or trammed in.  Then they will have their bags inspected. No one ever believes me.  I also tell them to give themselves time for insane family members because someone will always slow them down or be late.  I am always told that will not happen.  I am always right about this.  I wonder why no one believes me?

I used ask people to not be late.  Most people are always late.  I have waited up to two hours or more for people to  arrive.  They say they are sorry.  I know they are not a little bit sorry. To be honest I have stopped asking people to be on time.  Once I get the call that they are late for whatever reason they say, I tell them I will wait until whatever time and then leave.  They usually get there by then.  It is amazing how people will hurry up once the lady with the free pass is leaving.  

I do get a thank you and hugs after the sign in or tickets, but not once a thank you card or a gift.  Not that I really want these things but just once I would like a cookie or something.  Not that I need a cookie but gosh, Isn't my time worth anything to anyone?  

I was once asked to buy 8 adult tickets and 8 child tickets at my husbands discount and drive them to this persons house.  All at my expense and time.  She said she would pay me back.  That is a lot of money to fork over and hope that someone pays you back.  Almost three thousand dollars of reimbursement   This was one month after my brain surgery.  I told this person that she could give me the money and my husband would purchase the tickets for her and then she could pick them up.  She did not want to do this because it was not convenient for her.  She found another way to get tickets for her and her family.  She really wanted me to sign her in and give her tickets.  I might have misunderstood because I was only a month post op but that was my general understanding.  I could be wrong.  I hope I misunderstood. I really do.  

I have one friend who has a son,  I gave given him three free tickets over the course of two years.  Not once has he ever said thank you to me or my husband.  My friend has said thank you and I love her and would do anything for her.  I mentioned this to her and she was truly aghast.  She had thought that at least he would have at least sent a text.  Nope, not a word, her son is almost thirty.  

We gave two tickets to a young couple for watching our Pookie at our home recently.  We gave them as a gift.  They were thrilled and we were glad to do it.  Apparently, they left the tickets out and spilled something on them.  They asked, if we could give them more tickets or re-print them.  My husband told me that re-printing was not an option and no we would not give them more tickets.  I kinda snapped and told this young couple that these tickets were very expensive and most people took care of them by putting them in a safe place.   The young couple was appropriately chastised.  However, I felt bad for what I said.  Should I have given them more tickets?  Should I have not said that?

My husband used to sign people in for me because it was such a long drive and a real hassle.  One of my co-workers asked me to sign her, her granddaughter and some family members in.  I arranged it with my husband and he had his co-worker to get her whole family in for free.  They waited for two hours.  I had to call her and ask her were she was.  She called me back and said they changed their mind.  I was like what?  I told her to call my husband.  She sent him a text.  Oops...sorry.  No explanation.  My husband refuses to ever sign anyone in ever again after that incident.  He says people are assholes, completely ungrateful and undeserving.  Who does that?  She felt completely justified in her actions.  No guilt, no remorse.  

My husband will only sign in one family now.  We have one family that we know from church and we both adore them.  I think we would give body parts to them.  I would do anything for them and so would he.  We don't care, if they say thank you or not.  They are always on time and so very thankful.  They stood up for us, when we got married.  They are our family.  

Anyway, I think I have had enough and I will not offer to be a bearer of gifts any longer.  I am tired of others making me wait for ridiculous reasons while cars break down or family  members are late or whatever reasons hit the fan.  I am tired of being taken for granted and I am done.  I think the only people I will do for from now on is the one I mentioned before and for special occasion of my choosing.  Other than that I think it just is not worth it.  

Is it bad that I don't think the ends justify the means?  That the ungratefulness is so overwhelming and overt that I am taking a stand and my time is worth more to me than what I have put up with all these years in an effort to be good to others?  

I think this cow is closed.  Yep, that is it.  I am no longer going to offer no matter how much I know it would be a happy thing for someone.  If someone asks me, I am going to say no.  This makes me sad but I need to remember that I am worth more than being taken advantage of over and over again.  That my time is worth something.  I am worth something.  

I honestly think that most people do not mean to be such dicks but they end up being complete assholes because they are clueless and just simply do not care about anyone else but themselves and their own immediate self fulfillment.  Do you think this statement is mostly true?

So, I am stepping away from the situation once and for all and that it is.  What a relief, I feel better all ready.  

Now, today I signed in someone I really wanted to sign in  because he really is a great guy.  This person really deserved this.  What a pain in the ass, that was, yet that was the last time.  He was late.  He had car trouble and had no clue how to get into to this major California attraction had not been there for years.  I was beyond annoyed but I became inspired and decided that I would never do this again.  I made a promise to myself today.  I intend to keep it. 

What do you think?  Am I being a jerk about this?  Not giving away something I have that I won't use and don't care to use because I hate going there and all the strings that come with it?  I decide that my time is worth more than being wasted by others without reciprocation or appreciation, is this wrong?  Am I wrong?

Little girls and bad men

I was watching this movie today about this young woman.  She was a blogger.  She was 18 years old and decided to defer a year before starting college.  She was anonymous and blogged mostly about her promiscuous sex life.  

I almost changed the channel.  I so rarely turn on the TV and I was just about to turn it off but something made me continue to watch the movie.  The movie was about how this girl was molested as a young girl of six and how this changed her life forever.  

She was not penetrated but simply petted by the old man next door.  She even admitted to having liked it.  She had a suicide attempt at the age of 13 after an older boy refused her advances.  There were all the signs of someone who was molested.  Liking older controlling men, self loathing, no sense of self and the list went on.  Turns out the story was true.  She ended up pregnant and then one day disappeared.  There was no real conclusion to the story.  

I want to say I was very uncomfortable with this story and it made me very angry.  I want to tell you why.  

I had blocked most of my childhood away in a little tidy box or most of it anyway.  I get small snip its of my younger life but I want to say that most of it is censored heavily by me.  I never knew why until one night at, when I was visiting one of my dearest friends house.  

My friend had just gone through a very nasty and bitter divorce and moved into a beautiful townhouse.  I had come over with my daughter in tow to have a sleep over with her and her kids.  The children were sleeping upstairs and we were drinking wine from her amazing collection downstairs.  

We were talking men and it was very late.  We began to talk sex like most women do after a few bottles of wine and then we began to be specific.  The subject of blow jobs came up and then I blurted out that my first blow job was at the age of four.  I was like what the hell?  Who give a blow job at four?

I just stared at my friend and she stared at me.  The tears started to stream down my face.  I began to shake with shame and self loathing.  My memory came blaring back to me in technicolor.  I remembered something that I had stuffed in my do not remember file.  Thank God I was with one of my best friends for life.  Without her, I would have not been able to get through my suppressed memory.  

I grew up in suburban Orange County in bedroom community.  The kids played outside with each other all day after school until the street lights came on and all day everyday during the summer.  We were all friends and we knew our neighbors.  I know that is a shocker to most folks these days, but it is the truth.  

My brothers were playing basketball at the kids house down the street and I went there to watch.  Girls didn't play basketball with boys back then.  Anyway, the boy who lived there asked me to help him with something in the house.  I did not think anything of it and I went with him.  He was my brothers age, I think 12 maybe?  Anyway, he took me into the laundry room and he made me do what most girls don't do until they are well into their thirties.  I remember trying to fight him because it was really icky.  

To be honest I don't remember the actual act.  That part is a ken doll blur.  I am thankful for that.  I don't remember the after part or walking home.  I do remember finding my mom in the middle of laundry and asking her about this horrible new game that the kid down the street made me play and, if I had to play it with all the boys?  My mom was horrified and I think I had to brush my teeth and was given a bath immediately with a hair washing and comb out.  Maybe ice-cream was involved.  Not sure, I was four.  

The next morning at my friends house, I called my mom and asked her, if my memory was true.  She was surprised I did not remember the incident.  I told her no, not until that previous night and to much wine.  I did not mention the conversation leading up to it because I did not want to traumatize her.  I figured that just by being her daughter I was enough drama and trauma.  She didn't need to know I was talking about sex.

I asked her to tell me everything.  She told me that when my dad got home that night she sent him over to the kids house to speak to his parents and they refused to believe what had happened.  My dad almost beat up his dad and said that their kids were not allowed to play with his kids any longer.  That family moved away a few months later.  Thank God.  

I do know that I suffer from a very low self esteem and I gravitate towards men who are very controlling.  I was changed from that one event in my life.  Think of those young girls who are sexually abused and tortured again and again.  What that must do to them, if that one time in a laundry room did that to me?  I came from a loving intact home. Some girls do not come from homes like mine.   I think it is a horrible thing when young girls are not safe in their own neighborhoods or homes.  That their very souls can be corrupted by anyone and they are changed forever.  I know I was. 

I was lucky, I had a very loving mother and father who did everything to ensure that never happened again.  In fact, I was installed with such a paranoia to protect myself from harm, I have been safe ever since.  Yes, silly things happen to me all the time but nothing like that again.  

Why do I feel compelled to tell you this?  I want all parents to be aware that anything can happen to our children at the drop of a hat.  That anyone, even the boy next door can be the devil and destroy your child's innocence in a few minutes.  

I grew up and was relatively normal and felt loved.  My issues were small and I found a way to stand firm and become a better person through almost every hurdle I have come across with my family, husband and the good Lord by my side.  However, most are not as blessed as I am.  

I ask you to keep your children and grandchildren close and be very watchful and alert.  Watch out for the neighborhood.  If you get that feeling that one of the neighbors is a creeper, they probably are.  

If something does happen to one of your children, get them some help and stand by them.  They will be changed, who would not be.  Just remember to love them no matter what.  

Old ladies and little white dogs

My Goal today was to sleep and not do anything.  I am awake and drinking peppermint tea and toast at 0730.  Why am I awake at this hour on a Saturday?  My dog, that is why.  She wanted to be cuddled.  So, I had to cuddle her.  

My dog is named, Pookie.  She is a little white dog that weighs almost six pounds and I love this dog.  She is my child.  I did not think it possible to love an animal as much as I love this dog, I do.  

I have had several dogs in my life and each one I have loved.  Each one I think that I love as much as I love as a child.  This dog is different.  She is my child.  Why do I say this?  Because, I know that it is true.  

OK, lets back tract.  I had a similar dog named Gracie.  I rescued gracie from a puppy mill.  Gracie had lived her first nine months as a pack of fifty breeder dogs and her teeth were rotting out of her mouth.  The breeder thought she was to big to breed and gave her to me only because we were friends.  I had to bring her back after she had gone through two seasons and then she would breed her to a very small male in hopes of making small white dogs.  I agreed. She ended up having one litter of puppies.  

My daughter and I fell in love with gracie.  We had to pull all her teeth and she lived her life with a tongue that lolled out of her mouth and she had to eat soft food.  She did not play with toys or cuddle.  She liked to simply be near me.  She would be by my side not matter what.  Follow me room to room and she was happy.  That was gracie.  

She died at the age of 13, three months before Cassidy went away to college.  I was devastated.  Then Cassidy was gone.  I was in a car accident and my four runner was totaled.  One sad Mama in the house and my husband had no idea what to do.  He decided that he needed to take his wife to Egypt.  

We went to Egypt in 2012 right after the big revolution.  It was amazing and relatively safe.  There were 12 people on our tour only four were from America.  The rest were from Australia and Canada.  We toured the Nile on a paddleboat and had a great time.  However, as soon as we got home, there was no dog and no child.  I was sad all over again.  

Within three days of being home my husband told me to find another little white dog.  He said he could not stand to have me so broken hearted and lost.  

We found ourselves at the home of some evangelist christians.  I think the father of the family was a paster or something.  I don't know why but that was my general feeling from him.  They had a cross collection over their fireplace.  My only thought about that was that they would be very safe from previously catholic vampires. The crosses were painted in primary colors and haphazardly arranged.  A very bold decorating choice, if I don't say so myself.  

Anyway, he was home during the week along with his wife.  We did not meet her.  She was upstairs on some sort of conference call.  His little girl was with him downstairs along with three little puppies.  

We sat down on the family room couch.  I had with my Louis Vuitton handbag.  I only mention it because I had just obtained it.  I was so excited about it.  It is one of those bucket bags.  I thought I could put the puppy in it.  I also had a pink baby blanket.  

I forgot about my bag and the blanket the minute the tiniest puppy came lopping up to me.  I picked her up and it was love.  The little girl started to cry and I did not know what to do so I sat her down and tried to bond with the other puppies but the dad told her that she knew eventually that, "Tiny Tina" would be taken.  

I put the puppy I had in my hands down and Tiny Tina came running back to me.  She jumped in my hands and I don't think she has ever been out of them since.  We paid the family and took her home.  I did not put her in my over priced hand back or the pink blanket.  I just carried her as it.  

She fell asleep on the way home in the car and I carried her into our home and outside.  I set her on the grass and she opened her big brown eyes.  It was like she had never seen grass.  I could believe it because the carpet in that house was full of stains and puppy poop.  She began to jump over the very tall grass (she was maybe 1.5 pounds at the time) and frolic with such joy and happiness my husband and I were entranced.  We were in love.  

We took her to the vet immediately and got her puppy shots and then to PetCo so we could get her everything a puppy could ever want.  It was, if an older couple had finally been granted the adoption of a baby they had been waiting for.  This puppy was showered with love and gifts beyond comprehension.  

We still had not named her because we did not like the name Tina.  We tried all sorts of names and I even asked my Facebook family.  Finally, Pookie stuck.  She really is a Pookie.  

She loves her toys and plays with everything in her basket.  I get her groomed, the same week I get my hair done, every four weeks.  She has her teeth cleaned regularly because I do not want her to be toothless like gracie was.  We walk all the time and she even has a stroller for the long walks that her little body cannot endure.  My brother bought me the stroller because he did not want me to stop walking.  

In my heart, I know she is not a real baby but she really does make me happy and fills the void of my only baby that has left the nest.  She will never grow up and stays in a perma baby state that is really fun.  To be honest I would rather have my real baby here with me about the age of seven forever but that is completely unrealistic and not practical at all.  So, I have a little white dog. 

Now, I understand why old ladies have little dogs.  When I was younger, I did not understand why so many old ladies had these stupid yappy dogs that they dressed up and took every where.  I get it.  I am now one of them.  Life really is a circle or a wheel or whatever.  

What do you think?  Do you think that old ladies such as myself should ditch our yappy dogs and do charity work to fill the void of our empty nests?  Or, should we just enjoy our yappy dogs and be happy with the infrequent visits of our children and let the joy of being older be what it is?  

I think that this old lady should do whatever makes her happy and that the other old ladies should do what makes them happy.  Be it little dogs or big dogs, crochet, go go dancing or cougar activity.  Then again, I have never thought one thought that was even close to what anyone else thinks.  

Our gifts and what we do with them

I always wonder why people tell me things I don't want to hear?  I ask myself, if my ability to evoke strange confessions from almost everyone I have ever met or have known is a gift or a curse.  I can simply be eating apple slices at lunch or looking at towels in a department store and some person unknown to me or known will whisper or speak rather loudly some odd and freakish tidd bit to me.

I am one who has never learned to school my facial expressions.  I will be just minding my own business eating or doing all the things I do and I will hear something unbelievable.  Instantly my mind  tells me to keep my face still.  I know that my face is in some contorted outward mask that I cannot maintain in a passive expression and I blow it every time.  Yet, I just can't help it.  I am the dork of all dorks.  

I have heard the oddest things.  I usually am sworn to the ultimate of secrecy so I can't say what I have heard.  Bummer, right?  I would love to go on and on about the yummy gossip that has been whispered in my ear.  Then, I have completely forgotten most of what most people tell me in secret anyway because I don't want to mess up and tell someone their confidences.  I call this wipe mode.  I pretend I am a computer and someone just wiped my memory stick.  It is a very handy skill.  I suggest you use it in an emergency.  The memory wipe thing.  It is not as affective as the Scarlett O'Hara thing but just as good in a fix.  

Then what is it about me that makes others all comfy and cozy around me? I think some people seem to think I am a confessional?  Maybe it is my enormous boobies?  Or my soft middle that makes me all safe and pillow like.  Kinda like a happy old  familiar couch.  I don't know.  Sometimes I like it, sometimes I don't?  Sometimes I feel like every ones mother or sister.  Mostly, I feel like a really good friend.  

It is good to be every ones friend.  Mostly.  Then again, sometimes I just don't want to know the deepest secrets of everyone I know or don't know.  I have grown to like my life in a bubble.  In my youth, I was all up to date and modern.  I knew things.  I don't know anything now.  I am so not of this world.  I live in a happy bubble of mediocrity and am shocked very easily.  When I was younger, nothing shocked me.  Now, my shock button goes off all the time.  Some days, I am surprised I don't die of the successive shocks that go through my body.  

So, what is a girl to do?  I found myself for a long time in hiding.  I would avoid having long conversations with people or not ask questions to evoke a pouring out of anyones soul.  I would do things to cut myself off from people in general just to avoid the daily draining deluge of conversations.  I was almost a recluse.  

Then I realized something.  What the hell?  God gave me a spark.  He gave me a gift, not a curse.  Instead of hiding I began to just listen again and be who I was supposed to be.  Maybe I am not the most beautiful woman, thin woman or in shape woman on this planet but I know how to listen and I know how to be a friend.  At least I try.  Sometimes I think my head is full of glitter and rainbows but I do give it my best effort everyday.  

So, this is what I do, I listen.  I don't really give all that much advice because I don't have that much of that stuff to give.  I learned to just accept people for who and what they are.  Accept and love for what ever and who ever they are.  Yes, I might belly ache and have issues about a lot of character flaws but in the end  I just had to learn to ...well as the Beatles would have said, "Let it be".  

What do you think?  Does everyone have a gift?  I think that everyone has several gifts and that it is our duty to live up to our gifts to the best of our ability.  

  

Romantic love or real love? What do favor?

I have this thing about relationships and how they figure into our lives.  Maybe that is not what I mean.  Maybe I want to say, how is it that a relationship can change each of us so profoundly and then be gone in a heartbeat?  Or a relationship that is there day in and day out that really has no effect on a person whatsoever.  Perhaps I should explain myself further.  

I am amazed at how we each touch each others souls and change each other.  How we can be part of each others lives and entangled and then suddenly the tangle is undone and no more.  As if we are just a puff of smoke or a cloud that passes by as the wind dictates.  A minute in each others lives or a decade or so and then gone.  I wonder why that is?  Some of us stop by for decades to meddle in each others days and hours, some of us stop by for a few days or even years.  There seems to be no reason or rhyme.  It is as if, there is a secret song that only the earth and sea can hear and we are the dancers.  I don't know.  I only dance to the secret tune and so do you.  I ask only why do we have to dance at all. 

When we are young we can be friends with anyone.  We meet another young person and they are our best friends for the day, our best friends for life.  At least we think that as we play our childhood games.  We think that  for this day we are friends and or friendship will last forever.  It amazes us that as the day ends and our parents take us home, so does our friendship.  We forget our friend and our new friends name with the setting of the sun.  It is different as we age. We would no sooner become friends with a stranger than drink poison.  How we grow so cold and ridged as we age.  

We go on throughout our lives and meet people and make connections and hope to meet good friends and find that so few people are to be trusted with our hearts as far as friends go.  We have been hurt, our hearts broken by our so called friends.  We have been destroyed, distraught perhaps betrayed by them.  There were so few that could be true friends.  Maybe that is how God wants it.  You have to earn your friends and they have to earn you.  Through the ashes a true friend will come through the fire and coals to become that one deserved friend.  A friend that is earned.  One friend or maybe two that can be fire worthy.  I have a few friends I can call fire resistant friends.  They know who they are.  

Then there are the lovers.  Movies, TV shows and books tell us that there is this elusive romantic love that we all must seek.  I am not convinced of this romantic lover that I am told I must have.  I believe that there is one heart that will connect with mine and will speak the same language as I do.  That God or whomever you call God has ordained this union through all time and eternity ...perhaps infinity and I will join with this person to create a relationship with which to enrich each other, bring goodness, kindness and prosperity to this union.  At least I hope so.  To what end then is there a reason to be in love?

I believe that being deeply in love is a wonderful thing and this love comes with time and a lot of work.  I don't know about all the weak kneed love struck thing but I do know real love and what I have seen on TV and read in books is not it.   am so not a heaving bosom type of girl.  

I think that the love between a child and a parent or between friends is one of the greatest loves there is.  The love between a husband and wife who have been married for years is true love.  The love of a mother sitting by her child's sick bed is another form of real love.  The love that God has for us is the best love of all. Romantic love seems so fleeting and shallow compared to what is real and worth working for.   I would rather work for something real than have something fake any day.  Wouldn't you?

When I step back and look at the rope we weave that entwines us all together, I think crap I never will figure this out.  Nope, not even close.  

I suppose it is like looking at a beautiful meadow and instead of trying to figure out the complicated eco system it is, I need to be pleased with the wonder of it. OK, I can do that.  I will just enjoy being part of life and the relationships that surround me.  I will always questions them and look oddly at them from time to time but I can simply treasure the joy that simply is.  

So, I ask you, how do you feel that relationships work?  Do you feel that there is such thing as romantic love such as TV and books?  Or, do you think there is something deeper to it?  

Princess Rap

My Husband showed me something on YouTube last night.  He shared me this bit on Cinderella and Belle.  Apparently, they have a rap on YouTube.  

princess rap battle  (I hope I linked this correctly.  Anyway, it is on Youtube, funny stuff)


I watched this clip and I thought of my cousin.  I have talked about her before. You know the one that was so little and perfect.  The one who dumped me for a pony.  

I suppose you would say she was Cinderella and I was Belle.  Except, back then there was no Beauty and the Beast movie to compare me to.  I was this big clod of a girl who could never compare to her perfect teeny tiny blondness.  Good Lord she practically floated she was so light.  She was and is a very nice person which makes it worse.  Except the dumping your best friend for a pony thing.  That was really mean.  Even though I really get it.  What young girl wouldn't dump her best friend since birth for a pony?  Oh...me.  I would never do that.  You think I might be a little bitter over this?  Just a little....  Not really.  I love my cousin.  I just like to tease her.  

Me, I loved my books and stories.   I usually pick the people that are not always the obvious winners.  Like Belle picks the Beast and not Gaston.  Gaston was the good looking guy that everyone thought she should have fallen in love with.  She chose the beast because he had the truest heart.  That is me.  I always choose the people who have the the best hearts.  Even thought most people can't see them.  

Anyway, The princesses in the rap battle go back and forth about who is better and why.  My cousin and I used to have a fights like that.  We had one fight that was epic.  I am a natural brunette.  I dye my hair.  I won't lie about that.  In fact, I love hair dye.  Funnest thing ever, this hair dye thing.  If I could get away with pink hair, I would.  Usually, professional people do not have pink hair.  

Anyway,  one day my cousin went all crazy on me because her hairbrush had brown hair in it.  This brush had so much blond hair in it you could not even see the bristles.  I think there was one brown hair in it.  She started to yell at me that blond hair was better than brown hair and that I was not to use her hairbrush.  I countered that blonds were stupid and brunettes were smarter and I could use her brush any time I liked. We ended up in a fist fight over that stupid brush.  I think we were nine. 

Just watching that princess rap made me think that, if my cousin and I were to fight today like we did back then about who was the better "princess" it would have been very similar to that princess rap battle.  

Clearly there could never be a winner.  Each princess is unique and is beautiful and brings gifts and talents to this world.  Maybe, each princess needs to just be happy with who she is and love the other princesses.  

In my experience there will always be someone younger and prettier who comes along.  Someone smarter, with more education, who has more money or connections and basically wipes the floor with you.  Who cares?  Just do the best with what you have and be happy for everyone else.  If you truly are happy for everyone else then you won't need a princess rap battle.  Although, it was really funny, I had to watch it twice. 

I suppose this is were I could go on about how we as women make it so hard on ourselves.  That basically we are our own worst enemies.  That we are so busy being in competition with each other, bringing each other down, calling each other names, trying to get the better spouse or stabbing each other in the back we block ourselves from ruling the world.  Just because we want to be the prettiest princess.  

I say, be your own pretty princess.  Be happy in your own heart.  Be happy with what ever it is that you want to do in your life and live the way you want to live.  No need for rap battle of the princesses.  Who cares who has the best purse, shoes or tiara   I love those things but only get them for my enjoyment and not at the cost of something greater.  

I challenge all my friends be you a male or female to be your own prince or princess without bringing others down.  This is a tough one.  Can you do it?  

Life without religion. Life without faith.

I keep thinking about faith and religion.  I have had the pleasure of meeting my daughters best friend.  She is really neat.  I like her a lot.  Most young people are really so not interesting and quite annoying.  I would like to say that most of my daughters friends are very intriguing and intelligent.  This friend of hers did not disappoint.  

I was able to have some really intense conversations with my daughter and her friend.  One of them was the topic of religion and faith.  I learned that she was not raised to believe in Heavenly Father or any religion whatsoever.  She did not believe in any higher power, God or any form of anything at all.  She believes that once she dies the light turns out and that she is simply over.  

I think my heart broke.  Just the end part of my heart, not my whole heart.   I don't know why this bothered me.  Intellectually this is absolutely fine with me.  I have no problem with parents raising their children without any God figure.  On the other hand, when meeting a child raised without a path to enlightenment previously installed, I had a moment of such deep sadness that I stopped breathing for a moment.  How could this be?  My faith was jarred just ever so slightly.  

 I looked into this young women's eyes and asked her, if she felt a presence other than her own guiding light or her own heart speaking to her?   She assuredly told me she knew of no such presence or guiding light.  She did say that her heart did speak to her.  She felt as if there was no omnipotent figure and knew this to be true.  She said that having faith in such things was ridiculous.  

She did tell me of going to her grandmothers church on occasion and sitting in a pew.  She told me that her grandmother and her grandmothers friends would give her pieces of bread throughout the service and that she would have a pile of bread by the time the service was over.  She had no idea what the bread was for.  She did not mention any of the words of the service.  She only mentioned piles of bread and little old ladies who wanted her to eat the bread without any explanation.  Like eating bread without any reason makes it more than bread.  Sure it does.  

Then I got to thinking about faith.  So, just say....You don't believe in anything other than what you can quantify.  You are a science type of person and you need proof and faith is this flower child idea that seems so elusive and cloud like.   How could anyone have faith in something they can't see or feel?  My faith is shaky at best.  I always question everything.  How can someone who does not know God believe or has never had faith in the first place even begin to believe?  

In my heart of hearts I could not argue with her because how could I sway someone from their inner truth.  This would be the same as allowing another to persuade me that my inner truth was wrong.  This is something I cannot nor will I never do.  This is so completely wrong that no one ever should do this.  Perhaps this is the greatest sin of all.  Maybe not, or maybe yes, I cannot say.   

I felt so lost for her.  I grieved for her ability to not know.  Yet, she was not lost nor did she grieve for herself.  I struggled with the thought of parents not sharing with her the ways of a spiritual choice nor a path to choose instead of one of nothing but an end of darkness.  I had thought that a more complete parent would allow a child to choose or at least give their child a more complete education and the ability to choose wisely.  Then again who am I to say?  

I suppose I believe life is this amazing buffet with all these choices available to choose and sample.  As a parent, I think that all of life has to offer should be known to our children.  In the end or children will choose for themselves and it is our choice to accept or deny their choice.  I always choose to stand by my only daughter no matter what her choice.  Except, breaking one of the Ten Commandments then we have words. 

Heavenly Father is my Father and he forgives all.  He has millions of sons and daughters to look after.   I only have one.  I suppose, if he can forgive all of them and me, I can forgive my one.  If he can love me no matter what choice I make, I can love her no matter what choice she makes.  Simple enough, right?  Isn't that the example he sets?  Then it makes sense, I follow his example.  

So, back to my first thought.  What to do with my daughters best friend?  I suppose there is nothing to do.  Other than just accept her and love her like my own.  My husband and I had already decided to make her our "new daughter".  She is completely loved already regardless, if she believes in a higher power or not.  

I pose a question.  Is this wrong of us to not preach to her about God?  Is it wrong of us to  try and not convert her to Christianity?  Or is it right of us to accept her as she is and love her as she is and let her be happy being our new daughter and being who she is.  

What do you think? 

Modern Communication...What is it?

I keep thinking about our modern world.  What is it about smart phones and the Internet that seemingly makes us leave the face to face world of people and invest so much time with a hand held device?

I had the pleasure of having young people at my home for a week.  Now, there is no mistake I love my phone and I love the Internet.  Facebook is my friend and all the modern world is an amazing place.  Yet, I noticed something interesting.  My daughter and her friend, I call her my new daughter, spent most of their time face forward looking at their phones instead of interacting with me and my Husband.  Even while engaged in conversations with me and my husband they were looking at their phones.  

This got me to thinking about modern relationships and communication.  I started to look around a little bit more.  I noticed that most people, including myself had this other relationship going on with our phones.  I noticed it in my break room at work among other places.  Grown adults from ages 25-60 all looking at smart phones instead of at each other.  

What is it about these devices that are so much more interesting and more entertaining than each other?  I remember being able to sit down in the break room and have a conversation with my peers or co-workers.  When did that all do away?  When did a phone or a hand held device take the place of a person or a face to face interaction?

I sit here blogging and most of the people who read my blog read this on your phones or devices and I wonder about what we have gained and what we have lost.  

Perhaps we are in a flux of change?  Perhaps we are learning something new in the way we communicate with each other.  I would like to think that Facebook was a gift that allowed me to reach out and touch those I thought I had lost.  Becoming a small time blogger has given me the opportunity to speak to anyone who will read my words on a scale I could have never imagined.  The Internet has allowed me to see and understand so many more points of view and now I feel like I can be more open minded and I hope a more loving person.  

Yes, I think for right now this phone gazing and seemingly odd way of communicating seems kinda selfish but I think it is a step into something bigger then what we have ever known before.  Maybe we are stepping into a future that only we have dreamed about in movies and books about the way we communicate with each other.  

I can only hope this time in our humanity is a step into a future of amazing possibilities.  That this "smart phone" is just the beginning.  Maybe one day we will just think it and it will be so.  I can think a text to you and you will receive my text.  I kinda like that.  I will take a picture with my eye and send it to a mind/brain Internet that will be so beautiful and perfect that no camera would ever be able to capture it the same.  

We are really just babies you know in the timeline of man.  Just toddlers really taking our first steps.  I tend to be overly thoughtful in my view of things and way to pragmatic.  I think for this I will just let it go.  It is what it is.  

When I am old, I think I will re-read this blog and find out, if I was correct or at least partially right.  

What do you think?  Do you think we are simply so engrossed with ourselves and our phones that we are selfish and so self absorbed that we cannot communicate properly anymore?  Or, do you think we are simply learning to communicate on a higher level and this is a baby step into something amazing?  

Entitlement: What does it mean?

My daughter is in town this week.  She came home to help us out.  We needed a doggy babysitter. So, her and her friend stopped by for a few days while we were on a mini vacation.  

We really love having her here. I had never expected her to go away to college and never come home.   Yet, my daughter decided that she wanted to be an independent person and do life on her own terms.  I think I am the only person I know that had a child move out at 18 years old and stay out.  She is one amazing person.  

Anyway, I don't get so see her very often and it really is fun to spend time with her.  We have been doing a lot of sitting around the table exchanging ideas and debating politics, religion and other things.  Better yet, her friend fits right in.  

Nothing better than exchanging ideas with people who have a thought or two in their brains and can back up those thoughts with words and facts.  I love folks like this.  Good to have her home.  

Anyway, we started to talk about what entitlement meant.  The conversation started with why our public schools sucked so bad.  Why the taxes we paid were not sufficient enough for the demand that the public schools required of them.  My daughter and her friend had no idea what the reasons were other than what the TV or the Media told them.  

We talked about how that each group of immigrants that came to America came here with this willingness to work and assimilate into the American culture.  Each group gave as much as they took and gave back to our Country in so many colorful and meaningful ways.  Now, the immigration trend has been people more willing to receive hand-outs then to work.  Our economy could not then and cannot now sustain this shift of more take then give.  That eventually the bough would break and it all would come tumbling down.

My daughter asked about her own ancestors and I told her that they all came here with nothing and earned their way like everyone else until the recent immigrants.  My Husband told the same story of his own people.  We told my daughter and her friend that our people never felt this sense of entitlement that immigrants tend to have; they expect everyone to give them everything simply because they can creep over the boarder under the cover of darkness.  

I told a story that my mother told of her own father.  How he never thought he would own his own home.  How he thought that only those who could pay cash for a home or who had money.  His son, my uncle, had to explain to him that he had a job and explain the concept of a mortgage.  My grandfather finally owned a home and achieved the American Dream.  He did not believe that anyone should give him a home or support him.  He made it on his own without the benefit of Welfare or Medical.  

My Husband asked me later, if the "Girls" understood what we said to them.  I said heck no.  That they still lived in the ideal world bubble and had never had over 50% of their paychecks taken from them...yet.  That they were still young and still believed in the goodness of men.  They still believed that people would never just come here to take and not give back.  Strip a country bare and laugh all the way to the bank while we let them.   

I told him of my fathers friends and how they would rant on and on at our dining room table and how I thought they were a bunch of "dicks" at the time.  How years later I understood what they were talking about and understood their wisdom.  I told him his words were not wasted just not understood today.  

I feel bad for our youth.  They are inheriting a world of people who are full of this sense of bloated entitlement.  This world of people who believe that they are to be served and catered to without ever having served another in their whole lives.  

I suppose I could go on an on about this.  I have just touched the very top of the subject and so much can be said.  There are so many touchy feelings when this subject comes up.  Yet after our conversation this evening, I asked what I should blog about.  It was unanimous...I was to talk about entitlement or at least try. 

What do you think about entitlement?  Do you think our world is full of people who have not worked for what they have?  Do you think we should just give what we have worked for to others who have not worked at all?  

I think we should all work to some capacity.  We should all do something for as long as we can and be as productive as possible.  We should all earn our way in this world and be happy doing what we do, if we are lucky.  I honestly do not think that what I earn should be given to anyone else unless I freely give it away.  I do not think I should be given anything unless I earn it or it was given to me as a gift.  

I guess I am tired of seeing more and more of what I earn going to people who do nothing for my hard work.  For example, here in California, we are in a drought.  We have spent so much money on our welfare system that we cannot spend any money on infrastructure.  Our water mains are busting all over the place.  We as a State are taxed insanely and now we are going to be fined, if we use to much water.  

I pay taxes so that the infrastructure is intact and working.  I pay for water to be here even in a drought.  I use water wisely.  Yet, I have to pay for all those who do not pay taxes or for anything else and I will be fined for using to much water and for the increase in taxes to fix the busted water mains.  How is this fair or right?  Why do the responsible hard working people keep paying and paying and get less and less and those who pay nothing get more and more?  Why?

I pose the question: how did those who do nothing and break the law end up being so entitled and those who work hardest be the servants of the entitled?

Has Vegas gone PG?

So, we went to Vegas for a couple of days.  As always we had fun.  For us, Vegas is a time relax.  We get a little suite and spend time in our room.  I know lots of folks don't spend time in their rooms but we do.  

I have heard people say who stays in their rooms in Vegas, we do.  We wake up late.  Get up for a few minutes and then go back to bed.  We sit and just talk to each other and get to know each other all over again.  Sometimes we get all crazy and order room service.  

My favorite thing is the pool.  I can spend days there.  We don't have a pool at home.  We have been in negotiations over a pool for our home for a very long time.  I think I have lost the fight on the pool now that California is in perma drought.  My Husband has said that, when we retire, I can have a pool.  I might have to get that in writing and notarized he tends to change his mind about things like that.  Anyway, if the sun is out, I will spend as long as my Husband is willing to let me stay baking in the sun.  As long as I can have a good book, a yummy juice drink and no one talking to me I am happy.  He tends to do other things in the casino.  Men will be men.  

Anyway, I had an interesting epiphany this Vegas trip.  We were sitting in the lounge at Caesars.  You know the one right in front of the main gambling area and I noticed that there were a lot of people with small children walking past us and many of them with babies in strollers.  

I guess I never saw it before.  Maybe I wasn't paying attention but there it was.  Babies everywhere.  I thought ...what the heck?  Who brings children let alone a baby to Vegas?  I personally have come to Vegas to get away from a small child a few times but never to bring one there.   

So, in my little tiny brain, I kept thinking about the process a parent must go through to justify in bringing a child to Vegas.

Scenario one, they were passing through and needed a place to stay.  OK, that is justifiable but why not at a non gambling establishment.  Maybe a residence Inn, eat at a Applebee's someplace that does not place your child in an environment with smoke, gambling or half naked women.  Let them decide, if they place themselves in a Vegas like situation when they are adults and can reason such a choice out.  

Scenario two, they have to go to Vegas for a wedding and the children need to be there for the ceremony.  Once again, stay someplace else.  Bring the kids for the ceremony then leave immediately.  I just don't see how a child belongs in a casino.  Ever.  

Scenario three, parents are totally selfish people and bring the kids thinking they will each take turns watching the kids.  They fight openly in the casino about who is going to take the kids so the other parent can have fun.  Each parent is equally drunk and hating the other parent for "ruining" their fun.  I would say this is not a good example of good parenting for their children or the people watching them.  

What I noticed was these parents were drinking adult beverages as they walked a circle around the gaming areas with their strollers full of infants or holding hands with their toddlers.  Funny thing, they seemed to think that, if they placed a blanket over the baby in the baby carriage, it was like placing a cone of silence over the infant.  That this blanket of protection kept all the noise, evil and smoke away from their precious infant.  Sure it was.  

I also noticed the toddlers were barley walking as they held their parents hands.  These toddlers were up and with their parents well past midnight.  Their eyes were half mast, feet dragging as their moms wore cha cha heels and their dads sipped tall ones.  I kept thinking how could this possibly be fun for anyone?  A cranky, sleepy toddler and a drunk selfish parent?  Not a good combo, not now, not ever.  

So, I had always thought of Vegas as an adults only place.  Especially the casinos and half naked areas and the areas that promote them.  A Disney for the over 21 crowd.  Has Vegas gone PG?

So, tell me, have you ever taken your kids to an adult venue such as Vegas and expected to have adult fun?  I know that I never have.  My Daughter had a bedtime until she graduated high school.  I never took her to an R rated movie or allowed her to go to one until she could take herself.  Vegas is a place I never even thought of taking my child or even stopping by with her.  Tell me, am I missing something?  

What is it that would prompt you to bring your child to Vegas or to an adult situation like an R rated movie at midnight on a Saturday night?  Am I old fashioned?  If so, educate me, I need to know.  

My Friend is going to Heaven

I have a friend who is going to die.  I suppose you would say that she is more of an acquaintance than a friend.  I consider her my friend.  

I met her when my Daughter was seven.  I had moved from South Orange County to Riverside.  I had placed my Daughter in a private school and she was one of the first people I met.  

There were a bunch of first children in this class most of them girls.   I was told by the educators that it was something not seen very often.  We became a very tight group.  

I was one of two single Mom's and only two who had one child.  In this school it was basically unheard of.  

This friend I made was the mother of three at the time, all girls.  She was so very nice to me.  She was a stay at home mom and just so very pleasant.  She made you feel as, if I was not weird for having no Husband and that I worked, but that I was just like everyone else.  She made me feel normal.  

One of the first things I noticed about her was that she was not like all the other Mom's.  She was round and pleasantly plump. Not the typical barbie Mom that I had seen walking around.  Yet, everyone loved and adored her.  

She also carried everything in her bra.  She had a phone, Kleenex, money and some candy in there.  I was fascinated by this.  In fact, to this day, I carry many things in my "Special Pockets".  One of her kids would come up to her and need money or something and bam, there it was, five bucks.  Amazing, I always have something my Double D's.  I think of  her every time and smile.  Women with smaller breasts cannot pull this off, definitely for the larger buxom gal.  

Sad thing, my friend, ended up having breast cancer and had to have her breasts removed.  I had hoped that was the end of it, but no it wasn't.  Her body developed cancer all over.  She fought so hard and for so long.  She sought all treatments and climbed every mountain to win this battle.  She has lost her battle and I am told that her body will end soon.  

I lost contact with my friend after my Daughter graduated from eighth grade and we moved.  I was thankful for Facebook and in kept touch with her there.  I knew that she had cancer.  I was so happy, when she went to Paris and started to enjoy her time with her Husband instead of treatment after treatment.  I was overjoyed, when she started to talk about her cancer with all of us so we could encourage her and be on her team.  Cheer her on and pray for her after every post.  I prayed for and her family every day.  I prayed for Gods will and the courage to accept his will with fortitude.  

My other friend asked me what we should do.  I said there is nothing to do.  Not yet anyway, not now.  I told my other friend that this time is for our mutual friend and her immediate family.  They need to say goodbye to their beloved Mother and this body she lives in right now.  That God always calls home the most good and beloved early.  He has special plans for them.  

My other friend and I both have Mothers that have passed on.  We both lost our Mothers relatively young in our adult lives comparatively to most others.  I know that my heart aches for my Mother to this day and I miss her so much.  How I wish I could talk to her and hear her voice.  Smell her perfume and touch her hand.  I know my friend grieves for her mother the same.  I know that our Mutual friends children will grieve the loss of their Mother desperately.  

I can only believe that our friend will go to be with our Lord and perhaps her work in Heaven will be to ease those souls who are confused or lost like I was  and make them feel right at home and comfortable.  I hope so.  She was born to be an Angel.  She was my Angel.  

What can we do on earth right now?  I really don't know.  Trust in God and his process of life and death I suppose.  I have been through so many passings of folks.  Those of my own people and those of people I did not know.  It is truly an honor to be there when a soul passes over.  Not something I like to do because it is very sad but it is something that reminds you of how complete of a real circle life really is.  

My Mother's Mother passed of Breast Cancer when my Mom was 14 years old and she was left to raise her 7 year old sister and take care of a household of men.  She dropped out of school and had to get a job.  Not easy to be sure but she did it all.  I don't think I could have done that without a major temper tantrum and a poor me fest everyday for years.  I think my Mom is in heaven right now doing what she loved, taking care of babies.  

What I would say to my friends daughters, I would tell them to be patient with themselves and to just take your time.  That your never going to get over this but eventually the days and nights will seem a little brighter and things won't seem so horrible.  Remember that your Mom will want you to be happy.  She fought so hard because she did not want you to be sad that she was gone.  The best thing you could do is to be happy and be the best you can be.  Also, take care of that little brother of yours just like she would have.  

I have a picture of me and my Mom on the inside of my kitchen cupboard, I kiss my fingertips and touch them to my Moms face everyday.  Just to remember her.  Keep your Mom in your heart.  I always try to be like her.  If I can be just 1% like my Mom, then I know I am a good person.  I hope you try and be like your Mom.  

My friend is fading from this world and my heart hurts that her beautiful smile is no longer going to be here, yet I know someday I will see her smiling again at me, when I go to heaven.  At least I hope so.