Life's Idiotic Moments

There have been many idiotic moments in my life lately. Unfortunately, I only have 15 minutes with which to write about them. So let me get right to it.

1. Charlie Sheen -- he just slays me with his attitude. C'mon -- he cured his addictions with his mind? Now he is healthy? Is that why he is ranting in all forms of medium; had his two youngest children removed from his home by the police; lost his job. I could go on and on. I think he is in that deep trench of denial, and if not careful, it will become so deep that he will have a difficult time climbing back out. I feel sorry for those around him that are being so affected by his outlandish behavior. That said, for seemingly 90% of the population, they can't get enough of Good Time Charlie. Who, by the way, is really Carlos Estavez.

2. Crazy people in general. OK -- perhaps I have been watching John Quinones' What Would You Do? a bit too much. But yesterday, there was an accident on Highway 44 and the Big Bend exit. I stopped, because it appeared to just have happened and no one else has stopped. What I found was an elderly Bosnian man with very limited communication skills and this jerk -- who was totally trying to take advantage of him, I asked if they needed a phone or anything, and Mr. Jerk told me that it wasn't any of my business -- while the Bosnian man was literally shaking. OK -- I made it my business. Over the course of the next 10 minutes, I got Mr. Bosnian to call his daughter, explained the situation, told her that Mr Jerk was bullying her dad, and that I wasn't going to leave him to be taken advantage of.

Long story short, Mr. Jerk called me all kinds of names (fuck, bitch, cunt, moron); got nose to nose with me -- well, not exactly nose to nose because he was a good foot taller than me and about 100 pounds heavier than me -- but you get the picture -- and told me to leave and that if I didn't, he was "going to take care of me." Guess if I stayed or left? I stayed. I just told him, "OK -- do what you need to do, but I am not leaving." I told him that he was acting like a bully, and that I wasn't going to leave until I was comfortable that Mr. Bosnian was taken care of.

Quick back story: Mr. Jerk wanted me to leave because he was telling Mr. Bosnian that there was no damage and that he was just going to leave the scene. Mr. Bosnian kept saying "Bosnia. No understand. Insurance. Police." Twice Mr. Jerk went back to the car --that he wasn't even driving, by the way, it was his girlfriend's car -- saying that he was going to leave the scene. I had Jacob take down his license plate number just in case.

My boys were with me or course, and as soon as Jacob saw Mr. Jerk getting into my face, he stepped out of the car. It did cause Mr. Jerk to get out of my face. Then when Patrick stepped out of the car, Mr. Jerk turned nice, had his girlfriend call the police, and I stayed until the police arrived. Mr. Jerk did apologize for his language.

I felt it was important to step up in that situation. I would do it again.

3. Time is up. I am off to Yoga class. Yes, me -- and yoga. Idiotic!

Dance among the leaves

Sitting at the window watching the leaves whip in the gusty wind. The mix of colors -- brown, read, green reminds one of a ballet. Fast and furious then slow, the limbs of the trees waving about in a furious dance of spring. Beautiful as it may be, the dance reflects my own inner turmoil. Limbs whipping about in the unchoreographed dance mimic my own feelings, undecided and confused.

My own conflict -- MY conflict -- owned by no one else. How I would like to place it on someone -- anyone. But the sad fact is that no matter how much I feel like the madly whipping tree limbs, and no matter how much I would like to place the problems on someone else, it just can't be.

I have created the mess I am in. I didn't share with my husband my feelings. I tried to pin them on someone else or something else. Pulling past events out fast and furious just like leaves falling from the trees in the fall. I take ownership of the problems that caused my husband -- the person I love more than anyone else on this planet -- to squash his feelings for me until there was no love left. It became a huge monster and has taken on it's own life.

Unhappy and unfulfilled. Problems that I have assisted in creating and too big now to overcome. I will fight the good fight for my family, but just as the beautiful leaves of the trees whip in the wind, the time will come in which the leaves will loosen their grip and fall, dead and crumpled. Just like my own husband's love for me. Once strong and wrapped around every fiber of our beings, now crumpled and dead.

A lesson on love

When I was a child living at home with my parents and my six brothers and sisters, it was a hard time for us. My dad treated my mom and us kids awful. In the early years of their marriage -- and way before me -- my dad drank and ran around and just didn't take care of his family. He got another woman pregnant while he was married to my mom, he became an alcoholic. He abused us kids and my mom. Until a couple of years ago, I had about 11 years of my life that I couldn't really recall because what happened during that span of time was so horrendous.

Years later, when I was an adult, I asked my mom why she stayed through all of that garbage he put her through. She simply said, "I love him. I have always loved him." I really didn't get it at the time, and no matter how often I said it or thought about it, I just couldn't see how her love for my dad could be so strong as to weather even the stormiest of times. I knew what love was, but I guess I didn't know what that never ending love was. I do now, and I totally understand: love doesn't know boundaries or follow a structure. Nor does it come easy or cheaply. But once it has a grip on your heart, if it is true love, it won't ever give up, no matter the situation or the consequence.

Random thoughts

Try as one might, you can't make someone love you. Nor can you change their will.

Love versus in love

In today's society, people banter about words without giving much thought to them. Think about words that should have great meaning -- like I love you. To some, this phrase has a deep almost spiritual meaning to it, and it is reserved only for those special people with which much love is shared. For example, between husband and wife, between mother and child, and even between best friends.

Walking the halls of anyschool, USA will allow you to hear this phrase put into more common terms. Children use it as a greeting of sorts. A quick hug and an I love you before departing to the next class. The air thick with juvenile against to fit in perhaps causes children to use this phrase in perhaps less than an actual love situation. Or perhaps there are different sorts of love.

What is the difference in the phrase I love you when compared with the phrase I am in love with you? Surely there is a difference. We, as a society tend to save I am in love with you for our partners in life, at least for the most part, while I love you can mean the love a parent has for children and best friends.

Remove the I am in love with you from the equation of a marriage. Shouldn't I love you and I am in love with you have the same meaning in this circumstance? If the two statements do represent different meanings, what then? The relationship has now shifted to expose a raw side; one that is easily wounded, and begs the question, can the relationship continue without both components?

A sad tale

Is love really all about the physicality of a relationship or is it something more. Something deeper. What constitutes being in love or just loving someone. Is there a difference? Or is love just that -- you either love someone or something or you don't. What are the parameters of being in love and can a relationship exist if one partner says that being in love doesn't exist for them?

Becoming me

It has occurred to me that no matter how hard we try, we can't protect our children from the hurts of life. It is these actions -- some of them anyway -- that turn them into well adjusted adults. Life must be lived on their terms, and not our own. No matter how much we wish it otherwise, we can't be there to cushion each fall.

I compare my own adventure into adult hood with that of my children. Did my parents feel the pain of each of my hurts as I do my own children? How do other parents feel? I have tended to surround myself with like-minded adults, and I know how they feel. I want to know how others feel.

Perhaps we are never really grown until we can take a step back and allow those most closest to our hearts pick themselves up when they fall. It is this act of letting go that frees them to find their own sense of self, and perhaps it allows us to close the chapter of who we are and begin the next chapter of our own lives.

The colors of Texas

The grand vacation to Texas is now just a memory. It was great fun though. Time was spent with family and friends -- so much love was shared. In addition, to the love, the region presents with such a variety of colors that it is almost overwhelming to the senses.

Living on the eastern border of Missouri, we have blues and greens, and beautiful muted autumn colors. Not at all what one sees in southern Texas. They have already experienced spring, so everything is bright emerald green. Cacti are in bloom as well as the blue bonnets.

The sky gifts such amazing colors -- shades of blue that are not seen in Missouri. Clouds play among the blue like children playing in the ever present pools of crystal blue water. Sunrises and sunsets present a variety of pink and purples hues that look like God himself has taken a paint brush to the skies. Beautiful and almost indescribable in their beauty.

A trip to the coast of the Gulf of Mexico presents another gentle assault on the senses. People crowd the sides of the ferries that take them from one piece of land to another in hopes of a glimpse of the dolphins that are often at play. On this day though, the dolphins seem to be at rest, but the ferry riders are awarded with the sight of a statuesque pelican gracefully perched on the landing.

A short car trip later, and the ocean appears as if someone opened a great pop up book. The scene spills into view. The great expanse of sand and the even greater expanse of ocean. The water is frothy with white foam as the waves tried to clamber to shore. Standing in their midst looking over the great expanse of ocean makes one feel so insignificant. The chill of the blue-gray water disappears as only the sounds and smells of the sea overtake a person as it becomes a living thing.

The colors of nature only barely edge out the colors that are man created. Although some homes are the traditional while, beige, or brick that we are used to seeing in the Midwest, many are painted with colors that remind one of a new box of crayons. The rainbow colors of the houses make even the ordinary yet unfortunate colored houses seem brighter, as if they are trying to compete in a beauty contest of sorts.

The love that was shared will remain with us forever in our hearts and in our minds. The unintended gifts of color will remain with us also.

Life as a poor person

It seems that breaks are hard to come by these days. Fanciful thoughts led to a belief that things were finally getting easier for my family. However, it was just that -- fanciful thoughts.

Insurance is one big deal. The boys are on a state funded program, but the program is very restrictive. We went back to our old family practice that we haven't used in four years -- because that doctor accepts the plan. My son's psychologist accepts it, but his psychiatrist doesn't. Out of pocket for the psychiatrist is $135 per hour.

My husband lost his job after 10 years. His severance pay kicked us out of food stamps. The majority of that money was used to pay past due bills. It doesn't matter though, because on paper DFS has decided that it doesn't matter that we were behind on bills or whatever -- it is still too much.

There are programs in place that would allow me to get my meds at a greatly reduced cost -- except that I am a veteran. Veterans are supposed to use the VA for medical care, except that they use your previous year's income. That income doesn't appropriately represent our present situation. According to the VA, it doesn't matter. It is too much money, so benefits are not available. Long story short is that if a previous year's income is above the current guidelines, then VA benefits are not available -- and neither is assistance from the drug manufacturers.

Is it tense in the household? You bet. Do I know how to change anything? Not a clue.

Sister Friends

Perhaps you have a preconceived notion of what a sister friend. A biological sister that is actually a friend you say? A friend you love like a sister? Goodness, what would form that relationship anyway? In this world, a sister friend is a beloved female person that should have been your sister from birth. Through no fault of your own, she wasn't included in your biological family.

I have a few sister friends. I treasure them. I turn to them in times of need for comfort and support. Recently, I have come to treasure one particular sister friend so much. I send her these lengthy crazy notes, filled with my turmoil and uncertainty. She replies with such focus and clarity that I am sure it flows from the hand of God instead of from her heart to mine.

Melody, even her name rings of a joyousness. So many things in my life seem to parallel hers. Things from our hearts at any rate. I treasure her. I don't know that if she realizes just how important she is to me. Just the thought of how much she cares and the brute force of her messages is enough to make even the most cynical among us realize that there is love to be shared, and that God is actively working in our lives.

If you were not born into the family of your heart's desire, then create it. There are people out in this big wide world that will give of themselves. Perhaps you will be lucky enough to find your own Melody sister friend.

Thoughts on Haiti

The catastrophe in Haiti seems to still have news desks around the work riveted firmly in place. Among the things being bandied about is that it will take 10 years to repair the damage, thousands are dead, hundreds are orphaned, and there are hundreds that have had surgeries or are in need of surgery. People have rushed to donate money, time, and supplies. Perhaps that is how it should be.

For those who have much, much is expected. However, what about the people in this country who are in need of help? What about the thousands upon thousands who have sub standard health care due to lack of funds for insurance. What about the homeless on the streets of this country? What about soldiers from this country who are in hospitals dealing with just as massive of injuries? What about the children of soldiers, police officers, teachers -- all those who serve at the will of the people -- who have lost their lives so others in our country may have a better life? What about our orphans?

It boggles the mind that people rush to help others, but forsake our own. For those who have much, much is expected. Just don't forget those in your own community, in your own state, in your own country.

Tonight's Grammy Awards

The Grammy's -- one of the "It" awards for recording artists. Tonight a musical tribute was paid to Michael Jackson. His children were there also, accompanied by an uncle entourage, to accept a lifetime achievement award in behalf of their father. While it was touching, and even tear-jerking, it was too little too late.

Jackson was sneered at by the industry after accusations of child molestation became public. Two cases -- one settled out of court and another with Jackson being found not-guilty after undergoing months of public scrutiny. Where was the industry that he loved so much when he was going through this, this mess, this torment?

There was always fan support, and most of the time he had the support of his family. All of the time Michael had the love of his children. But the industry to which he gave so much turned their collective backs on him when he needed them most.

Since his death, many artists have jumped on the Michael Jackson train. It is all about making the big buck. The fucking almighty dollar. There is something wrong with a society that will allow for the collective back to be turned when there is a time of need, but when it looks good or money is to be made, just try to find a seat on that train. Be careful, or you will find yourself pushed under a passing train in an attempt to gain a buck -- or several of them. Whatever the case, it is sickening, and time for a change.

MJ revisited

Months after the passing of Michael Jackson, I find myself back at the computer, googling the latest news and then flipping though pictures of his children. While it is true that I am a huge fan, and even more so after his untimely passing, the pull today is his children.

Unable to put thoughts of the now parent less trio behind me, I drift to YouTube to watch clips. as the pictures scroll past, my mind drifts. I find myself wondering what memories the youngest of the children, Blanket, will have of his father years from now. I compare my own loss of 3 grandparents at a young age; and the strands of memories that have been filtered through the years. The realization that the majority of the memories are vague with gaping holes, like a spider's web that has been loosed from it's moorings.

While fans have their memories, and often share them with other fans, Michael's children don't have the luxury of exchanging memories with millions. Even if that were to happen, these children lost their father -- not some icon that echoes a lifetime of dreams. The cold truth of the matter is that Blanket, in all likelihood, will retain only fractured memories of his beloved father. Such a sad thought for one so young.

Friday, July 17

Random musings

Jacob is talking to me as I type. He has been reading the encyclopedia, and is just rambling. I know I should actively listen to him. The truth of the matter is that people with Asperger's Syndrome think that everyone is as interested in everything that they are interested in. It is a part of the social skill they lack -- they simply don't understand or even believe that other people simply don't have the exact same interests that they do. I used to listen to him, but he often just drones on and on.

Perhaps I need to go to a support group. In reality, I am sure it would help me, but -- well, I don't really have a reason that I don't find one and just go. It used to be that I was just too busy, but that isn't my reality any longer. I just don't even have the energy.

Mark is in bed already. I didn't spend more than 10 minutes with him today. He did ask if anything was wrong with me, but I told him that I was OK. Fact is, I am just bone tired. I know with the fibromyalgia, it makes me tired all of the time, but this is different. I feel mentally tired also. Part of what makes me tired is that Mark doesn't understand my fatigue. I have tried all sorts of things to give me more energy. I have changed our diet. I am trying to be more physically active. I have tried Ritalin, and when that didn't work well, the doctor switched me to Adderall. That works a bit, but I can't sleep when I take it. I find myself getting so tired that I can't concentrate on anything. It is just a big circle of crazy.

On Melinda's Mind Thursday

It has been a few days since I have blogged. I have missed it. For starters, Patrick's half days seeme to be working ofr him. Yesterday was an IEP meeting that I had asked for to discuss reevaluation. We missed our long time OT, who doesn't work at the school any longer, and our school social worker, who is out on FMLA. Patrick didn't advocate as strongly for himself as he would have had they been there. At any rate, he is going to be retested in specifically in the areas of mathmatics. They have 60 days to get that done in. Whenever it is done, we will reconvene and go over the results and lock down an IEP with the new data.

I met with dear friend Cathy. It is amazing how you just casually meet someone and they become such a good friend. I really enjoyed my time with her.

Sheila, if you read this. we are supposed to arrange a time after the 27th to get together. I am sure it will be fun for all of us. I miss the fact that we don't' get together after school any more; we should do that once in a while. What do you think?

I am ready for Christmas. The only reason I am is because we really cut back this year, and we are having smaller scale decorations in the house. I like it thought, because I don't seem to have the energy to do something big for the holidays.

Mark says that he notices a change in my behavior. I am just very laid back about everything. I believe it is the medication as well as a change of attitude. I am a bit frustrated right now as I have managed to misplace my drive that has my books on it. I spend most of the day the previous two days looking for it, but can't find it. I am sue it will turn up some where.

That leads me to 10 things that I like about me.

1. I have friends who want to spend their precious time with me.
2. I have enough information and creativity to attemtp to write a book, even if it never gets published.
3. I have a roof over my head, because it is cold outside.
4. I have the drive to get out of bed in the mornings.
5. I have the ability to choose to be productive during my day.
6. I have things in my lie that I look forward to. like this blog.
7. I do not live in Illinois, and can say that I didn't vote for Blogoyvitch (because I would have).
8. I have an ever growing group of friends.
9. I can detach from things when I need to, at least most of the time.
10. I can type.