shes leaving home

Gestation Period

2012-01-14T20:06:00.000-08:00

15 years post divorce.
1. the divorce was long and conflictual.
2. my career in negative cutting tanked.
3. I moved 6 times.
4. I bought 3 houses and sold 3 houses.
5. I cried a bazillion tears.
6. I had more one date dates than I care to count.
7. I lived with my parents for 2.5 years.
8. I cried more tears than I thought possible.
9. One daughter graduated from college.
10. One daughter is going to college.
11. I walked more miles than I thought possible.
12. I drank a lot of red wine.
13. I read a lot of books.
14. I fell in love with a Benedictine Monestary.
15. I went skydiving.
16. I climbed Mt. Whitney.
17. I fell in love with someone who...well...I don't know.
18. I was frustrated, angry, confused etc.
19. My parents died 33 days apart.
20. I was first successor trustee of my parents estate and took care of it all.
21. I had issues with my siblings.
22. I resolved the issues.
23. I was strong.
24. I can count on one hand the number of times someone did something for me.
25. I am god damn tired of being alone, of being strong...I just want to be a girl.
26. I worked damn hard at becoming real, authentic, of going deep into the mystery of me.
27. And I am now gestating all of this and on the cusp of moving into a new life.

Ehausted

2011-12-28T18:26:00.001-08:00

1. Went to a memorial for an acquaintance who died last week at 97. He beat the odds.
2. Escrow closed on the duplex today.
3. Loaded the car with Annie's bed and other misc stuff for delivery to the duplex tomorrow.
4. It's a lot to process.

Being Pulled

2011-12-15T20:46:00.000-08:00

I am being pulled towards you. I know you are healing. I hear your voice calling me. I will come when you are ready. I am waiting and you are waiting.

In the meantime, she will be leaving home next week. Escrow is to close any day now. Bittersweet.

He Was Not Intense

2011-11-18T22:34:00.000-08:00

First off the duplex is in escrow and will close before the end of the year and that means my life will change.
Ok so men. I was at my local farmers market this evening and as I was leaving this man started to talk to me. He asked if he could walk me to my car. I had never seen this guy before. Before he started talking to me I noticed him talking to someone I know. So I let him talk to me. As we were walking towards my car he asked if he could buy me a drink. Now normally I would say no. I just don't like doing stuff like that but I said yes. So we went into a local bar and had a glass of red wine. Granted he was a nice man. He had a job and a degree and seemed decent enough. He plays keyboards and has played in bands. We finished our wine he asked if we could get some food so I agreed. We walked over to the Mexican joint and had a little food. We conversed and he was nice albeit a little conservative on the subject of illegals. I had fun; however at the end of the day would I go out with him again? No. There was no spark. He was not intense. He was way too normal. He would probably be a really nice and dependable boyfriend. There was no spark. He was not intense. I need intense and I need sparks. Sigh.

Victorian Duplex

2011-10-29T22:20:00.000-07:00

I just put an offer on a Victorian duplex in dtla. If it all works out Annie will move in and live there for the next few years. It's somewhat overwhelming.

Passing Days

2011-10-13T22:12:00.000-07:00

I work long hours everyday and like it. I am just finishing up work for the day at 10 pm. My job seems pointless in many ways but I like it. I work at home and I work hard and I make more money than I need. It's all good.
I am preparing for my little girl to really leave home. The reason I started this blog. She is living in LA several days a week. This weekend I will start looking for a duplex to buy so she can live there while she finishes school. My little curly topped brown haired baby is becoming an adult.
And I have mixed feelings. However, I know the time is right.

Spring Cleaning

2011-09-14T22:19:00.000-07:00

I know. It's fall. My usual mo is to move when my house really gets dirty and needs a major spring cleaning. This time I am staying. I am hiring someone to come in and clean. She is coming on Fri to look it over and then next week to clean.
I am going to have her clean the refrigerator out, dust, Annie's bathroom and the kitchen. And then whatever is left.
I am here to stay.

A Day

2011-09-14T00:46:00.000-07:00

This day started out with a phone call. My oldest daughter called to tell me my youngest daughter's car would not start this morning. Annie my youngest is now working 3 days a week in LA with her sister. And then she goes to school 2 nights a week in Pasadena. So she is now sleeping in LA 2 nights a week. This was a work day. She stayed at her sister's last night. She was planning on driving to work and then to school. Plan aborted. She rode to work with her sister and her sister took her to school.

I wasn't really awake when the phone call came in. I was disoriented. My first thought was "I can't do this". I am overwhelmed all the time. And I can't take another problem to solve. I decide to put this thought and solution on hold.

I turn on the computer. Work was crazy. Had to move some recruits around. Have tons of work to do to day. Wrap up some loose ends and then get working. Keep getting crazy emails and crazy calls.

I am stressing trying to figure out how I am going to get everything I needed done today. It starts thundering in the distance. Then I look out and see lightening on the ridge. It's getting louder. A big strike of lightening rocks the earth. It is close, really close. The lights go out. The computer stays on...it's a laptop. I freak.

I call my boss. We talk. I see a fire truck across the road. I hang up and go see what's up. Turns out a bolt of lightening hits a pole 300 yards from me. The lady in the house is crying. She is scared. The firefighter determines there is not fire. It did smell like smoke.

So now I have no electricity. I decide to go to the local coffee house. I have issues with my computer. I fix it. I pack up and go. I get to the coffee house and it is quiet. One person sitting outside one inside. I order and set up my computer. I work for several hours.

My kid texts me. Her friend will bring her home. I am relieved.

A friend comes by. We chat. I'm burned and stressed. Another friend is teaching a yoga class nearby. I decide to go. It took me out of my head. I relaxed. It was good. In fact so good I am going to go back.

I come home. My kid calls me. She is going out to a club with her friend instead of dealing with her car. She texts me later. She doesn't have to work tomorrow. I am glad. She has been gone for 3 days. I miss her. I wish she could deal with the car without me.

I continue working. Now I have to go to LA on Thurs and deal with the car.

Catch and Release

2011-08-18T22:39:00.000-07:00

Just got back from a beach camping trip with my kids, my siblings, my nieces, and a couple of in-laws. This is more or less the same camping trip we have done for the last 40+ years with a few missed years along the way. It was the same as always, tents, bikes, trailer, s'mores, etc, except this was the first time my parents were missing.

On Sunday when I arrived at the site just south of the LA/Ventura County line my youngest brother was checking in. I pulled my truck up behind his parked trailer, the trailer that was my mom's and dad's. The frame around the license plate says "Catch and Release". I wanted to cry.

We drove to our site and I expected to see my parents. It was as if their ghost/spirits were alive and wandering the campsite. My brother maneuvered the trailer into it's space. As if he were channeling my dad without the yelling. My kid and I set up the tent in the site next to my other brother's.

We put our chairs around the campfire. It was weird. I kept expecting to see my mom sitting at the table in the trailer, cooking, playing cards, playing with the grandkids. I expected to see my dad tending the fire, drinking a beer, sitting and talking computers, business, etc with us all. Everywhere I turned I expected to see one of them. It was such a weird sensation. I would look at my brothers and see my mom, my dad. I would look at my hands and see my mom. I would look at my sister and see them too. The youngest granddaughter has my dad's eyes.

I had a great time. I think it was a healing experience for myself and my siblings.

My youngest brother told a story about how he tried to steal a tire rim and had to go to the police station. He did it because my dad told him a story about a similar thing he did when he was a kid. After the failed theft and the visit to the police station, my dad went out and bought a rim for my brother, nothing said.

I am home now. I had a great time and now I am sad. So many changes, it's time to move to the next phase of life and to enjoy it.

Black and Yellow Butterflies

2011-08-05T22:45:00.000-07:00

Winding roads. Monks in black robes. David Gray singing in my ear. The trip to the Abbey was magical. \

Mass and lunch. Prayer and relaxation. As I was leaving two black and yellow butters crossed my path, followed me to my truck and danced and hovered over my head for several minutes. I contemplate the meaning.

I drive through Bob's Gap Road down to Pearblossom Hwy and on to home.

I work some more. I go to the farmer's market. I talk to a guy spinning wool. I come home. I eat. I knit. I ponder.

I am grateful for 2 black and yellow butterflies and for the monks.

Aching

2011-08-03T23:22:00.000-07:00

My body is aching all over. Maybe because I am drained, maybe because I am reminded in my face of my parents death.

I work. I visit my kid at her work in WW and have a latte.

Later she and I go to JoAnn's in Apple Valley. I rant the entire drive. We buy fabric for my nieces graduation quilt and fabric for a skirt for my kid.

We stop at Target. It always makes me happy. Tonight I was just irritated. We wander the isles. We buy new air mattresses for our upcoming camping trip. We buy a new beach towel. And some food. I am continuing to rant. I am hot and my neck hurts.

She tells me her friend Nathan wants to take her on a date. I tell her to go. She doesn't know. She says he's her friend. I tell her friends are the best people to date.

We drive home.

The dogs are antsy. I take old dog for a short walk.

My kid vacuums the living room. I shampoo the living room carpet. I don't feel like I am living in an outhouse anymore.

Yapping Dogs

2011-08-03T00:07:00.000-07:00

After a long trip to LA I arrive back in the desert around 11. The kid did not take the old dog out for a walk. And she did not feed the stray. I was tired and took the old dog walking. It was dark and I took my dad's old heavy Maglite Flashlight. And all the neighbors dogs started yapping and one neighbor had his radio blasting. I thought how noisy this is living in the middle of nowhere. The sky was dark and the stars were bright. I came back after about 10 minutes. Then I went out back to commune with my new pal Earl and feed him. He is growing on me and I know I cannot keep him. I want to keep him. He is a really nice dog. I cannot handle 3 dogs no not at all.

Earlier in the day I did a three hour turnaround to the San Fernando Valley to see my accountant. We updated each other. Both of his kids are lawyers. His father in law died. We talked about death and getting old. I have been his client since the 80's. Time goes by fast. I gave him all the stuff for my parents returns and for mine. I have a short list of additional information to get him. I was there 2 hours. I paused for a moment took stock of the present. Drove by my old high school and onto the freeway.

Arrived at my kid's house and her boyfriend, she and I went to dinner. Lovely Vietnamese restaurant in Eagle Rock.

The drive back home I felt drained. I felt old and sad and dying. I just wanted to be home with my dogs.

Wraping Up a Simple Life

2011-08-01T21:38:00.000-07:00

Finally getting it together to file my parents 2009, 2010 and final estate tax returns. I filed extensions in April. Because I was super busy with work and mostly because it was too overwhelming in so many ways.
My dad had his finances together. Kept everything in Quicken. I just spent the last hour going over his 2009 and 2010 Quicken records. Everything was there. More than 50% of his 2009 income was medical expenses. And he had super great health coverage.
His last year he lived a simple life. He went to Starbucks, he visited my mom. He went out to eat at a few local places sometimes with me, sometimes with my sister and sometimes alone. He went to the Y to help out. He belonged to his ham radio club.
Looking at the entries for restaurants I remember the meals I ate with him. Poquito Mas on Ventura, Islands at the Vons shopping center and sometimes La Salsa in Calabasas. Once we went to the rib joint on Topanga and ate outside on the patio on a warm summer night.
It was a hard year. A good year. I enjoyed my time with him. And now he is gone, she is gone. And I am getting older.
Tomorrow I am going to my accountant, the one my mom worked for in the 80's. The one I have been going to forever. I will drive by all my old haunts. I will remember and I am sure I will cry. I haven't driven back there really since we sold the house. I have mixed feelings.
I am still processing and still sad.

The Stray Dog

2011-07-30T21:47:00.000-07:00

It started thundering and lightning earlier today. And a little light rain. I love this weather. I decided to go for a walk. About half way through my walk I encountered a stray. I was wondering if I should be afraid. The dog walked right up to me and then started walking right next to me.

I have been watching a show called "Saving Grace" and in this show the main character has an angel named Earl. I immediately wondered if this dog was my Earl. He walked right along with me not wavering. I came across an acquaintance "Suspenders John". He was in the front of his house on his tractor moving dirt. I asked him if the dog was his. No. We talked for a few minutes and pondered about what to do with the dog. I decided to continue on my walk and John took the dog in for some water.

I looped around and stopped back to check on the dog. He was still there. We decided I would take him home. He walked right next to me the whole way. We got home he waited on the porch. He was a little skittish. I left the door open and he came in when I was not looking. I introduced him to my puppy and all went well. I decided to introduce him to Elmo my 10 yr old alpha dog. Not good. Elmo slipped out of the collar and lease. Started attacking the dog I call Earl. I was screaming. I tried to get Elmo and finally grabbed his neck. Earl ran outside into the back fenced in area. He is scared to death. I locked Elmo in the garage.

The price to pay to do a good deed. I put Elmos harness on him and loaded him into the car. Left Earl outside and locked little baby in the house. Off to put up flyers in the dark. I went back to where I found him put up 10 flyers on the mail boxes and then at the post office.

I hope Earl's owner calls soon. He is really a nice dog.

All Tied Up in Knots

2011-07-28T01:04:00.000-07:00

Flailing around. I can't find my center or my peace. It's been 5 months of struggle and not finding a resting place. I feel angry at the world at the systems at the politics. Angry at unaccountable, manipulative, selfish, self serving, arrogant, narcissistic, controlling, cruel people.
I want to stay in bed and just flail around like a fish out of water.

Ordinary Times

2011-07-22T10:27:00.000-07:00

Can't stop thinking about death.
Which makes me think about the best days of my life.
The best days did not happen at big events, they were not planned out, they were not huge. They happened in ordinary ways in ordinary times.
Sitting in a coffee house with my friend Renee. Sitting in my friend Liz' sewing studio talking about fabric. Wandering the streets of San Francisco with my daughters. Driving to Target and wandering the isles with Annie. Having lunch and a pedicure with Libby. Sitting in the garage with Pat. Sitting in ICU next to my dad at the end of his life. Standing in Debbie's studio talking about art. Sitting in a coffee house in Bishop with my brother while my dad and kid are fishing. Cleaning the kitchen after a good home cooked meal. Sitting with Nancy in her kitchen, sitting with Dianne in her kitchen. Walking the streets of West LA with Francesca. Eating pizza with Carmen. Sitting in Glenn's office talking about art and film. Playing Go with my ex on the back patio. It's the little things that make a life. We all work so hard at the big things and in the end who cares. Without hesitation I would trade a trip to Europe, a shopping spree, a fancy dinner for any of the above.

Fragility

2011-07-21T21:33:00.000-07:00

I have been having some conversations with my friend Renee about fragility. She lost her dad when she was in her 20's. She took care of her mom for the next 20 something years and lost her about 4 years ago. So we are both orphans.
Last Friday I was supposed to go on a local zipline. I was craving the high, the speed, the thrill. And thru a series of circumstances I was told by the leader of my group I could not do it. It really had nothing to do with my ability. The leader was very odd. One person thought maybe narcissistic. Maybe at a minimum he was a control freak and extremely arrogant. Anyway. I was devastated. It was a blow to my ego, to my self esteem, to my sense of self worth. Around the same time all this was going on my friend Renee was in a minor car accident in a parking structure in LA. Her partner and child were out of town so we called each other.
Neither of us could handle our situations. We are fragile. We have held our lives together for the last so many years 20-15 I think. We have been strong, we have navigated the system. We have taken care of our parents, our children.
I think we have both hit some wall. She has money issues and I am too alone. We are so fragile, so broken. We google medical symptoms and we tell each other not to, but we still do. Our bodies hurt and ache. We each have a plan, she has a partner to help, I have my inheritance but no secondary safety net. And we are scared.
And fragile.

God Damn It

2011-07-20T23:59:00.001-07:00

I love you forever.

Creating Distractions

2011-07-12T23:21:00.000-07:00

I have been busy. And I don't like busy. I moved to the desert to walk and create and listen to the silence. This year has been busy. And the last month especially.
I had my party. It was a huge success and even the universe cooperated by giving us some awesome summer rain along with thunder and lightening.
I am thinking about distractions and addictions because seriously right now I feel like I am addicted to distraction and keeping busy. And I want to jump out of my skin. I feel like I am running as fast as I can and I can't stop. This weekend I am going on a zipline with my friend Phyllis, the next day I am going to an ordination of one of the monks, then the very same night I am going to a party. The the next weekend I am busy too. I don't do busy. I am an introvert. I don't know why I am on this roll. Don't get me wrong, I am doing things I want to do with people I like and love...but...hmmm....I still feel crazy. Maybe it's about getting old and death. As we know, death continues to be a force in my mind.
I have a theory. I think God devises crap for us to do when he wants us to get out of the way of our lives. When God needs to take charge, he distracts us so he can do his work. Ok, that is really just a theory...but...I believe it.
So, what am I being distracted from? A few nights ago I dreamed I was pregnant with 2 babies. They were conceived at different times and one was ready to be born. But it could not be born because it was tangled in the cord of the second baby that was not ready to be born yet...hmmm. Something very interesting about this.
Oye and I am tired of it all, this feeling of being on drugs. I hope it ends soon.

Walking Shoes and Blow Up Dolls

2011-07-01T00:26:00.000-07:00

Today was one of those days. Overwhelmed to say the least. I am having a 4th of July party. And the truth is I don't have parties. I think in all of my adult days I had one party and that was when I sold my house in Mt Washington and moved to WLA. And that was about 13 years ago. I don't like to have people at my house, I don't like large groups of people. It all overwhelms me. And to top it off I am really busy with multiple projects.
I am making lists of things to do in my head. Then I make a written list. And I didn't cross off enough things today. And 2 of the projects I am working on had problems I had to deal with all morning. Yikes. I managed to meet my self imposed work quotas for today. Whew. I know I can always do that.
I pulled all the weeds I am going to pull before the party. I mostly cleaned my office except for the filing. I half put up the kitchen curtain I have been meaning to put up for a year. Tomorrow my chores include taking the trash to the dump, going to the PO. Getting water. And working.
So now to the walking shoes. And this is not a metaphor. Walking is my meditation my sanity. Around 5 or 6 pm or so it starts to cool off. I put on my walking shoes. And I walk.
I take my walking stick made of an old ski pole that one of my neighbors gave me about a year ago. I have it to ward of dogs and snakes. I fill up my water bottle, put on my hat and sunscreen and stick in my earphones. Sometimes I listen to sermons I have podcast from 2 different Episcopalian Churches, sometimes I listen to a podcast call "On Being". Sometimes I listen to an alternative health podcast. And then I listen to music. When I am feeling good I put it on shuffle. When I am feeling the need for control I pick the artists...I cannot handle the randomness of shuffle. I have my favorites. And I listen again and again. Sometimes I have the volume low, sometimes blasting. I walk the same route almost every day. Occasionally I add in a detour to the PO, sometimes I add in some detours to get in some extra mileage. But mostly I pretty much do the same route. It is comforting to go round and round. It is predictable. When I am overwhelmed I need consistency. And I am very overwhelmed.
So, Blow Up Doll. Now for about a month I have been walking by the discarded packaging for a blow up doll, the sex toy kind. When I first saw it I was taken aback. The amazing things a blow up doll can do. All printed on the outside of the box. And a picture of a barbie doll like photo shopped naked woman. I was grossed out. I started thinking what kind of man would buy a blow up doll. I mean really why? He must be a really lonely man. Maybe one who could not relate to other human beings. Then I kept thinking how did the carton get there right on the road. What if a little kid saw it. At first I thought maybe someone wanted to discard the packaging before he got home and just threw it out of his car. Then I thought maybe it flew out of the back of a truck when someone was going to the dump. But then there is not other trash around.
This packaging became a marker in my life. At first I kept hoping it would be gone. That the litterer would have come back and picked it up. But no. Then I got to the point of expecting it. I keep wondering how long it will stay there. Will anyone ever pick it up and throw it away?
So the party. Why am I having a party when I hate parties. I think the party is a marker, another point in the transition. A point of endings and point of beginnings. It will be fun. And then it will be over and I can relax and focus on finding meaning in the next 10 years of my life.

No More Death

2011-06-27T21:55:00.000-07:00

No else has died at least that I know of. Spring has come and gone. Summer is here. I am still in my winter days. My heart is sad and heavy I am not smiling and sunny. I still think of death every day. Of sadness and brokenness. And then I fill myself up with distraction.

Waiting to land in the days of happy endings, the comfortable worn jeans.

It's Been a While

2011-03-21T22:05:00.000-07:00

Life goes on.

Today I am a mad, crazy woman. Frustrated by chaos and mess. I want a clean house, an organized studio and no chaos. And I want it to be warm.

I think I am a summer person. I hunker down in the winter. I don't like the cold. I am not productive in the winter and I am getting tired of it.

As the first day of spring comes and goes we get 4 " of snow on the ground. The dogs stay in the house. I don't go anywhere and I start to feel housebound.

And it all makes me crazy. Ready for spring, ready to move on and begin anew.

Byron's Memorial

2011-02-28T19:00:00.000-08:00

Another death, another memorial. Byron was diagnosed with prostate cancer about 10 years ago. He got better he got worse. Another of our co-op family gone. Feb 20th was his memorial. He was 60.

More or less the same people were there. Funny stories, Hawaiian food, Mexican food. We hugged, we talked. We supported each other.

Back home. I can't stop thinking about death. The impermanence. We could be gone without notice.

And then another friend's husband just passed away. His memorial is scheduled for April.

Seriously, I can 't take anymore death. I have death on my mind. I am becoming a hypochondriac. Every weird pain I have means impending death. I think of my life in terms of what I have not done and how I have failed. It's all depressing. Of how I missed the mark in so many ways.

Of struggle and disappointment.

It's all too much.

Jack's Funeral

2011-02-10T20:29:00.000-08:00

We left the desert at 8:30 am with the intention of arriving at my friend Debbie's house at 10 am. Hoping there was time to stop and get a latte at the new Intelligensia Coffee house in Pasadena. We had time.

We arrived at Debbie's in time. Her son and husband were going too. We drove more or less in silence. The son was a pretty good friend of Jacks.

We arrived around 10:30am for an 11 am start. We met up with some other friends. We hugged and then we saw the posse of boy's. We hugged them. They we Jack's best friends since forever. Friends from all over the map were there. From the East Coast, from Seattle, from China.

We sat amongst a sea of black. The temple was over flowing. Jack's father spoke, his sister spoke, an aunt, a friend from Sara Lawrence, and the posse of boys. Tears were flowing.

They talked about suicide and brilliance. They talked about schizophrenia and creativity. Of digging holes, making movies, street art, and the lava game.

We cried. I am sure there were at least 50 people there from our coop, our chosen family. We hugged. We were stunned we loved each other.

A group of us went to Portos in Glendale for a bite when the official funeral was over. We lingered way longer than it took to eat. We ended up back at my friend Debbie's house. And talked about it for hours. Trying to understand the not understandable. We had theories, and questions. We will never know.

Annie and I left at midnight.

Last night we went back. We were supposed to do shiva but the family had had enough. We just had dinner with 10 friends who are part of our chosen family. We talked and talked. We reminisced.

We left at 11:30 pm.

We are sad and processing and are grateful for our chosen family. The circle of friends who will always be there.

Hold Your Babies Close

2011-02-01T23:51:00.000-08:00

For you never know what may happen. Life is a gift, every breath is a gift and those people we are blessed with in this life are gifts.

Last night I found out an old friend's son jumped off a 20 story building in Los Angeles. He was barely 21 years old, a beautiful boy. I remember him growing up, an adorable, quirky, sort of shy smiling little boy. He was diagnosed with schizophrenia sometime within the last year I think. He had left college and moved back home. No one really knows what happened but sometime yesterday he went up to the roof of the building he was working in and the next thing seen were helicopters and ambulances. And he was gone.

One of my friends called to tell me. I was stunned. I called my kids. I Googled schizophrenia and suicide. 60% of males diagnosed with the disease attempt suicide at least once. Maybe he was having a hallucination and just thought he was flying. No one will ever know. Hold your babies close. Life is precious and you never know what will happen.

Today I talked to 4 old friends. We all knew this family and this kid for 23 years. They are family too. Maybe more so than my biological family. We morn. We are sad. We choke up. I got an email from another friend. We want to be with each other. We want to comfort each other. It sucks.

Life is precious and love and relationships are all that really matter.

The funeral is on Friday. I pray for him and his family.

It Was a Diversion

2011-01-14T22:30:00.000-08:00

The trip to Italy has come and gone. And now as I think about it, it was a diversion. I needed to escape my life for a few months. And now I am back. I want to go back to my journey.
To create, to walk, to go to the Abbey. To pray, to love, to work.

My Internal Body Clocked is Fucked Up

2010-12-11T22:13:00.000-08:00

I'm in Italy. Long story or short story depending how one looks at it. Day 3. I am sleeping at really weird times, in the middle of the Italian day or early in the Italian night. My body is fucked.
I officially went to bed around 1pm last night and woke up at friggin 4:44 am. I am sleeping on a sofa in the middle of nowhere. I can't even get up and wander the streets. It's cold and dark. Feeling totally trapped. No where to go. Can't access Netflix. So I listen to my iPod. Right now it's on Van Morrison. Good choice.
Having faith I am in the right place at the right time for this leg of the journey.
Advent = Adventure. The moment of waiting. The crossing, the bridge from one leg of the journey to the next.
Was pulled away from the comfort of the box that was no longer working.
Now I am sitting in the countryside of Italy wondering what this all means. How is this expanding truth beauty and love in my life. Hoping this experience will open and expand my heart in ways I have never known.
Pushing through the fear and anxiety. Not engaging in the need to control. Letting go of plans and agendas. Allowing the Godforce to be in complete control.
In awe of how ancient it all is. Cobblestone streets. Stone buildings. No clothes dryers.
The oddest thing about Italians is the way they greet each other. The sort of cheek pecking kiss. Once upon a time it seemed like a romantic gesture. But now I see it's just a different way of handshaking and keeping distance. God I am longing for a real American hug. Thinking about it makes my cry.

Madness or Maybe Sanity

2010-11-16T23:51:00.000-08:00

I am planning to go to Italy in 3 weeks. Never been to Europe. I profess hatred toward traveling. One of my musician friends has an olive orchard about 20 minutes out of Rome. He is going over for a month and I will meet him there to pick olives and to do a little sightseeing. Eat good food, drink wine and lattes. And pretend I am Italian.

This is totally spontaneous. I am madly trying to arrange to get a passport. I have no plans other than to use my buddy pass on Delta and arrive somewhere in Rome to something I can't even fathom.

And hopefully my friend will pick me up at the airport.

Red Wine and Rock & Roll

2010-11-02T00:18:00.000-07:00

A few weeks back on Oct 10th sometime in the evening I ended up drinking red wine in a music studio in the pines. My friend Michael and I had been paling around for the last 2 months or so since his wife and kids had moved back to Berkeley...he has since left and joined them. We had to take something Michael had borrowed back to the studio and when we dropped it off the musician who owns the studio invited us in for a glass of wine.

We hung out for several hours and then left. Several days later we ran into the same musician in the grocery store and were invited for some Jambalaya. And then again and again.

Michael left and I have ended up hanging out with the 3 musicians who are living there or temporarily living there or whatever. There is Max, Rastaman and Daryl. They play music, they record music and we drink red wine and Lambrusco. Eat Jambalaya and chocolate. Talk about life and love and music and spirituality and all the bad things we've done. The trouble in our lives. And I am having fun.

Really having fun. I stay there until 2 or 3 am sometimes.

I have this music database and we are going to do a little music marketing business together.

And it's all fun. Too much drinking and not enough sleep. And I want to keep going.

So to hell with all the pain. I am going to escape for a few days or a few weeks or more and have a lot of fun.

None of them have enough money so I am hiring them to do some handyman work around my house too. And that is fucking fun too.

It's about time.

She Wants to Dig a Hole and Curl Up Inside It

2010-10-02T21:00:00.000-07:00

The trip to Hawaii has come and gone. I came back with $78 worth of fabrics and some memories. A walk across the volcano in the mist and rain. A drive through Waimea stopping off at Huly Sue's, donuts at Tex's. A 750 piece puzzle. Several walks along Nene to Richardson's beach. The over tanned dude wearing a black thong. Latte at the coffee cart at the Hilo Farmer's Market twice. Latte and waffles at Bear's Coffee.

The house on Mulholland Dr closed escrow and now there is a huge chunk of money in the estate account waiting to be distributed. Never again to drive down the driveway. The house that was home for 40+ years. The only stable home in my kids life. Easter egg hunts, Christmas, Thanksgiving. Growing tomatoes, artichokes, coyotes and peacocks. Spiders and spiderwebs. Closets full of old stuff from the past. All gone and done. A family without an anchor.

I took a trip to Pasadena on Friday and met with my dad's financial adviser. My brother met us too. We talked. We have a plan. We are at the end of this journey.

I breath and breath.

Today I took a walk midday. It was thundering and lightening. Only last week was it so hot it almost broke the thermometer. It was cool. It did not start to rain until I got home.

I went out later in the day to Lowes and Starbucks and to a meeting for progressives. I bought some nails and 2 trashcans. I sobbed all the way home.

I took a bath. I am sad. Very sad.

If I were an animal I would dig a hole in the back yard and climb inside. I would curl up in a ball and go to sleep. I would feel safe. It's been a very long time since I felt safe.

Last Jacuzzi Under the Desert Sky

2010-09-07T22:25:00.000-07:00

At least for a while. My best friends are moving away from the desert. Back to Berkeley. The wife and kids left several weeks ago. I am friends with the husband too and tonight we did possibly the last jacuzzi for a while. They have rented their house in the desert and the renters will be moving in soon.

We have spent the last 6 months sitting in the jacuzzi for hours several times a week. Sometimes all 3 of us and sometimes just 2 of us. We talk about our lives, how we got from there to here. Our jobs, our kids. Our transformations. We talk about life and death. God, religion, spirituality, education, work. Our pasts our presents and futures.

It has been some really good times. They are real friends. The first real friends I have made in a long time.

We look at the stars. Mary used to be an amateur astronomer. She told me about the constellations. We would stare at the dark sky as we talked. We saw shooting stars.

I am sad they are going. It is all part of the big transition.

I Wish My Dad was Still Alive

2010-08-26T00:03:00.000-07:00

If it were he and I dealing with the estate we would be a good team. I have now added another brother to the list of people I don't want to talk to.

He is being a dick about all the money. I am fucking sick of all my siblings.

God, I am over this. Please God, help me get a new life.

The Anger has Subsided for a Moment I Think

2010-08-20T00:06:00.000-07:00

Not so angry today. Perhaps the trip to the Abbey yesterday helped. It always does.

My office is looking like a death factory. Death certificates on the floor, escrow papers waiting to be signed. Estate stuff everywhere. It's slowly coming to an end.

I feel the earth shifting as I write. One life is ending and another beginning and I don't even know what it means.

I feel the shift sure as can be. I can't tell what it means or where it will end up. But I know I will end up feeling settled.

My friend Mary is moving back to Berkeley in several days. It makes me sad because she has been a regular companion for the last year.

Life move forward. The earth continues to shift.

I have no work today or tomorrow. I am working on 2 pieces of art, one to give to Mary as a going away present and one for Renee as a birthday present.

Life is shifting I feel it deep in my heart. And I don't know where it will end up. I just know it is happening. And I am good with it.

Angry, Angry Woman

2010-08-16T22:49:00.000-07:00

The anger won't subside. I am a feisty, pissed off bitch these day. Angry at the world. Angry that I have so many distractions and so many social obligations and so much family crap. And angry that I have unfinished business I have to take care of.

Pissed off woman.

She goes for a walk. And it helps for the duration of the walk.

She drinks a glass of red wine. And it helps for a blink of an eye.

She writes and it helps for about 10 minutes.

She checks Facebook and it only pisses her off more.

She cleans the kitchen and it helps. She loves it when her house is clean.

She vacuums the living room. Ditto.

She changes the sheets on her bed. Ditto...twice.

The puppy runs into her bedroom and grabs a stuffed animal...ok seriously the animal was one my ex gave me as a point of focus for childbirth...I am so not a stuffed animal person...and I chase after the puppy.

The air is hot and she sweats.

She drinks a second glass of wine and it helps a little.

She dreads the night time because she cannot sleep.

She is pissed because she is a creator and has not been creating.

She is pissed because her parents left their shit to be cleaned up by her.

She is pissed because her siblings who say they want to help with the estate never volunteer to take on a task unless she orders and asks.

She is pissed because her kid does not clean up after herself.

She is pissed because she wants to stop going to LA and she can't.

She is pissed because her kids aren't as grown up as she would like.

She is pissed because she really hates large social groups and that is all she has been part of for a week.

She is thinking she will take a shower and watch something on Netflix. And she knows it really won't help.

All she really wants to do is pray, love, create, and sleep.

Unfinished Business

2010-08-14T23:00:00.000-07:00

It's been a busy week. I think the highlight with the meteor shower on Thursday night. My sister in law and my 2 nieces came out. We had dinner consisting of pasta salad and fruit. And then throw in some Oreos at the end. 11:30 pm arrived. We blew up the camping air mattress and all 5 of us lay on it sideways staring up into the desert sky. There would be a burst of light and then the tail would streak across the sky. We would ooooh and awwww. It was almost like a natural fireworks show. We lay there, our eyes scanning the sky until about 1:30 am. So lovely.

This evening I spent the evening in LA. We were having a revival of our old cooking club. These are people I known for 22 years. People who have been significant in my life. About 1/2 way through the party I just wanted to go home. It seemed like a bit of a bragging fest about the kids which failed. The Berkeley grad who is going to New Zealand because he doesn't have a job and doesn't know what to do, the other Berkeley grad who worked at a local bookstore for the last 2 years, now has a job as an Admin Assist. The USC grad whose mom tells me how she has an agent and an almost bought script, well she is living on unemployment in Brooklyn. So regardless of what college they went to, the job market is tough. And it's just plain tough to find one's way in this world.

So, the point is there is some unfinished business here for me. Maybe I just realized I don't want to brag anymore that I really don't care about all the superficial stuff. I wanted to go home so badly. Home to my desert home. To the dark and the silence. And seriously, I think I would be happy if I rarely go to LA anymore. Maybe the point is that I love my desert home. Maybe I am exactly where I am supposed to be. Not trying to please anyone. Not trying to do the right thing, not trying to fit in. And maybe this is some unfinished business I need to recognize and say goodbye to.

And then today we finally got all of the kinks ironed out on the sale of my parents house. I am hopeful that this estate business too, will be finished within the next three months and then a new life will start to form.

And now I sigh.

Distractions

2010-08-11T22:03:00.000-07:00

Sometimes life is just a bundle of distractions. Social and family obligations. Problems to be solved. Things breaking. And on and on.

I feel like I am in that phase. I came to the desert to eat, pray, love and create. The last 2 years I have been terribly distracted. I guess you could say I have eaten. Clearly I would be dead if I did not. I have cooked some interesting meals. I have gone to the Abbey so you could say I prayed, I have barely loved and I have barely created.

This week has been way too many distractions. Sunday: movie in WW with friends and then we all went to dinner. Monday...hmmm. Tuesday: trip to the goat's milk lady with my friend. Wednesday: friend Debbie and her daughter Annie come to visit, we hike in WW and then have late lunch/dinner. Thursday (tomorrow): I invited my sister in law and nieces to come out for the meteor shower. Friday: hmmm if I have time I need to go to Lancaster to the county recorder's office to file some estate papers. Saturday: to LA for dinner with a group of old friends. Sunday: potluck meeting in WW. FML. Then the following Sunday I am going to Palm Springs with my old girlfriend. Then the following Saturday we are having a second garage sale to finish up unloading all of my parents crap. Then the following Saturday my brother is having a summer birthday party in Long Beach. This does not include all of the events I did not attend: a funeral last week, my nieces birthday party on the 22nd, a party for a friend on the 21st. FML.

I came to the desert to eat, pray, love, and create. And right now I am so friggin distracted.

I want the rest of my life to be about eat, pray, love and create.

So, my theory is that when life is very distracting it is really God saying you are in the way, you are trying too hard, so get out of the way and let me do my work. I think God creates these distractions when we on our own can't let go. So he/she creates all of this shit for us to deal with so he/she can work his miracles.

So in the end I guess I am grateful for the distractions. Next week I will go to the Abbey for sure. My refuge.

Waiting for the Weight to Lift

2010-08-09T22:22:00.000-07:00

The house was listed a week ago. We got an offer last Thursday. We opened escrow today.

I am exhausted beyond exhaustion. These last 2 years have been hell, one way or another.

The day we got the offer I felt relief. Now we need to remove a few more items from the shed behind the house. Get rid of 2 sofas, 2 beds, and a washing machine. And have one last garage sale, take the toxic waste to the toxic dump. Get the Good Will to pick up the stuff that is leftover.

Then I have to make sure I have liquidated all of the funds and then divide them up.

God I am tired. I would be so happy if this could all be done before we go to Hawaii. I doubt it. Maybe by Thanksgiving.

Then I want to start a new life. No more death and dying and family drama.

Hoarding and Then Some

2010-08-03T22:55:00.000-07:00

When I think of hoarders I think of people with piles of newspapers filling their homes and zillions of cats running around. Not always true.

I think both of my parents were hoarders to a certain degree. My father kept tons and tons of old computer parts and broken tools. The garage will filled to the brim with junk. He had an entire room filled with old computer parts, ham radio parts. Circuits, tubes, wires, screws and papers from the 60's and 70's.

My mom had old family stuff. Old silver, old dresses, old notebooks filled with daily tasks. Old toasters. Broken china that was repaired. Crystal. Boxes of costume jewelry. All family "heirlooms". 90% was packed away and not displayed. WHY?

The quilt I made for them for their 50th anniversary was packed up. It always hurt me that she did not have it hanging. I guess it's fair to say it was hanging for a while then she just put it away. Probably she worried about fading. I hurt because I made it to be used not to be put in a cupboard.

I recently listened to a sermon from All Saints Pasadena. She was talking about stuff and how much of it we keep. Things and archaic ideas.

I need to purge myself of stuff. I don't want to end up being a hoarder of anything. Too much stuff, too many archaic thoughts.

I need to purge myself of whatever stuff I can, of chaos, of noise, of idle chatter, of everything that exists to fill up space and distract from authenticity, and realness.

My parents house is empty. I need to get rid of the excess in my life now. And I am pretty close. I don't keep much stuff that is excess, just some.

Good bye to excess.

Sisters, Puppies, Too Much Heat

2010-07-28T20:45:00.000-07:00

Ok, seriously, it's been way too friggin hot for way too long. I sit in my office and sweat. I am too damn cheap to turn on the AC. I grew up without an AC and think I can tough it out. And also for environmental reasons.

I did turn on the AC once so far this year.

My sister and I have been feuding for a while. My sister who is 12 years younger than I. The blond haired blue eyed clone of my mother. She was all that my mother wanted. She stayed at home and went to community college. Then went away for 2 years only to move back home to get a teaching credential. She worked for several years and then married a really super nice guy. She had a big white wedding in a church. She had a baby and then stopped working. She had a second baby. And then a few years down the road she decided to home school. Super perfect mom.

And then there's me. I moved to Berkeley when I was 18. I could not leave the house fast enough. The house was always chaotic. I was the oldest of 5. The house was too small. Life was crazy. I dropped out of Berkeley and went to ART SCHOOL. God damn it, I was too smart to go to ART SCHOOL. I didn't move home again. I stayed working in SF for 2 years. I didn't get married until I was 30. The guy I married was definitely not nice. He was too outspoken. He was too liberal. He was too crazy. He was an addict. We had 2 kids and a business. And I did not home school. I got divorced. I did not get remarried. I did not find a nice man to take care of me. I am a survivor. I did it on my own.

So now my parents are dead. I am reevaluating my life. I was the black sheep. The one who caused problems. Fuck my sister and all her goodness. I am sick of it. Sometimes when I am talking to her I feel like I am talking to one of those outsource people. The ones who say mam and are so so so very polite. And don't ever say anything meaningful. Just reading a script to make you happy.

And then there is the little adorable puppy. She looks so cute but is a devil. She wakes me up in the morning and when I step into the hall she is biting my ankles. And I am tripping over her. I drag her along as her jaws are clamped to my sock. I have to keep my doors closed. She takes my slippers and eats the fur. She takes Annie's underwear and drags it outside. I hang the sheets on the line and she rips them off.

If she weren't so cute.

FML Annie Kate

2010-07-13T23:44:00.000-07:00

The exhaustion is never ending. I am starting to worry I have a terminal disease. I just am sooooo friggin tired all the time. I am determined I will get out of bed and work in my office tomorrow. That will be a change.

The estate stuff is draining me spent last Sat distributing more stuff. Silver and china and crap...major crap. My sister is driving me crazy. I can't stand to be around her.

My house is a mess. I can't keep it clean. We have too many projects. I need a housekeeper and a handyman. FML.

I need a handyman to fix Annie's curtain, to clean up the yard. To clean out the garage. To go to the dump. I need a house cleaner to clean up everything. FML.

Annie and I went to Lowe's today. I am so friggin tired.

I want the estate settled. Talking to Real Estate agents. Clearing out the mess, the crap, the memories. Siblings weird. Juggling my life. I am sooooo friggin tired.

Dead Rattler on the Kitchen Floor

2010-07-07T20:57:00.000-07:00

Woke up this morning with my dog barking in the yard and the little puppy whimpering by my bed. I got up to see what was going on. The dog had a half a snake in his mouth and was flailing it around. It seemed to have some life left in it and would make a slight move and the dog would pick it back up and fling it out again. I was scared. I didn't know what type of snake it was and I was worried that maybe it had bit the dog. I would not let the puppy go out side.

Later in the morning I get a call from my youngest daughter. She is in tears. He boss and co-worker are being mean to her. Back story to this. Boss is an alcoholic and drinks all day at work. He had been living with a woman 15 years older than he for 10 years and recently broke up with her. She spent all his money and was not paying the mortgage. The house is now in foreclosure. Meantime he hires his friend to work for him. The friend is divorced and now remarried. Then the boss hires his friend's ex to work there too. The ex is 29 with 4 kids and no education. The ex has sex with her ex husband and then again with the ex husband's wife. Go figure. The the boss starts fucking the 29 year old ex who works with my daughter. Now the ex and the boss are ganging up and being mean to my daugther. She needs to get a new job. How friggin unprofessional can you get.

Then a CSA I am involved in sends out an email telling us to listen to an interview with a bitch who is the queen of the High Desert Tea Partiers. Seriously. I had to email her back to tell he never to send me political stuff.

Later in the day my boss calls. She has become a friend over the years and she wants to tell me about a new man she is seeing. We were having a great conversation and then I walk into the kitchen. I scream. There on the floor is the head half of the snake. I take a picture of it while talking and email it to her. We determine it is a rattler.

Just for one moment I think I will sell this house and buy a condo back in the city. I mean really a dead rattle snake on my kitchen floor.

I do love this place.

Feeling like I am getting a little hyper. Too much social activity. Maybe I need a change for my solitude. Just for a few days.

The rattle snake is now outside. I am so over it...now please if only the dogs were over it. I look out the sliding glass door and they are still playing with a 6" piece.

Tears

2010-07-01T22:03:00.000-07:00

Last week I went to the Abbey for the first time in a month or so. Father Francis was there. As I sat at Mass I started balling. Tears were flowing down my cheeks and snot was flowing from my nose. I was not prepared for this. I just broke down. I was in a safe place. I love the Abbey. It is one of my homes.

I sat with Father Francis at lunch. After we finished eating I told him about my father's death. It was huge. Just thinking about it makes me want to cry.

Yesterday and today I ended up downloading some podcasts of sermons from St Gregory's in San Francisco and from All Saint church in Pasadena. They were amazing. I sobbed during my entire walk while listening.

Everything happens for a reason. These are lessons I need to learn. I am too arrogant. For sure.

God I hurt these days. My desert days.

Earlier today I ended up going to pick up veggies at the local CSA with my friend Mary. We stayed for about 30 minutes talking to everyone. There is this woman named Meridith who is a true pioneer woman there. I had been to her house earlier this week. She raises goats and makes goat cheese. I bought some feta and some other hard cheese from her. I think I will go on Sat and get some goat's milk and make some more yogurt.

She is a quilter and a very interesting person. The weird thing is she lived 1/4 mile from my old house and I just recently met her.

Then we went to the Post Office and ran into our friend Gene and our other friend Michael. I ended up running into people all over the place this week. Is this a sign? Is this an omen? The for a day a swarm of bees was making a nest on my roof. What does this mean? Nesting. Settling? Sigh.

Sigh. Life is hard. Life is good.

Intersection

2010-06-29T01:44:00.000-07:00

There is a line to cross. The line between one phase of life and the next. I know I am there. I keep bouncing on that line. Dallying between moving forward and running backward. I lie here in the middle of the night not sleeping. My mind is racing. I am fighting my fear.

I want to move forward and I don't. I am waiting for a sign or some movement. I don't know what it is or will be. But I damn well know that I will know what it is when it happens.

I have been in this place before many other times in my life. And the moment always comes and when it does it is bright and clear.

I am waiting at that intersection. Ready to go or at least almost ready. When the clarity comes I will know.

I got up and walked into the kitchen and the moon was bright and shining through the sliding glass door. For that moment I was distracted by the immense beauty of it all and just for that moment I was at peace.

Now if only I could just sleep.

First Father's Day Without a Dad

2010-06-20T22:27:00.000-07:00

Hey Dad,
Thanks for everything. I miss you every day. And thanks for being so careful with your money and for saving so much of it for your kids to inherit.

I went out today and bought a new washing machine with my portion of the $1200 we made at the garage sale we had yesterday at your house. It hurt to sell your stuff. You would think the washing machine was cool. It's a Bosch and uses very little electricity or water. I would rather wash my clothes by hand and still have you here.

And by the way 2 weeks ago I bought the Nikon D3000 we talked about. I wish I could have called you and showed it to you.

Love Me.

Wandering the Desert

2010-06-15T14:07:00.001-07:00

There are times in our lives when we need to reassess and contemplate. Time to go into the desert alone and refocus on the meaning of our lives.

I am there, in that place. I need to wander the dirt roads. Figure out the next leg of the journey and grab on to the courage to move in the direction I am called.

I am afraid.

So, I will wander the dirt roads, contemplate, meditate and take no action.

And it hurts like hell.

I recently came across this quote from Spinoza from his essay "Ethics":

"If the way I have pointed out as leading to this result seems exceedingly hard, it can nevertheless be found. It must indeed be hard, since it is found so seldom. For if true freedom were readily available and could be found without great effort, how is it possible that it should be neglected by almost everyone? But all things excellent are as difficult as they are rare."

Also by Stephen Mitchell in his book "The Gospel According to Jesus": "He is simply stating a fact: it is difficult to enter the kingdom of God, and it takes a great deal of painful inner work." I see this as applying to an authentic, honest and truthful life, regardless of whether one is working towards entering the Kingdom of God or just working to become authentic and real.

Ouch again.

A Bright Light in an Otherwise Desolate Landscape

2010-06-13T11:37:00.000-07:00

My oldest daughter graduated from college yesterday. It took her six years. She mostly did it on her own. She lived with me, she lived with her grandparents, she slept at her boyfriend's house, her aunt's house. She worked part time, she worked full time. She juggled her life for 6 years and she did it.

And she has a good job in her field right now.

I am so proud. She stuck to it and she did it. I love my daughter so much.

It's a big deal.

Practicing Letting Go

2010-06-11T00:48:00.000-07:00

Badly. Wandering around. Knowing the only thing to do in times like these is to practice the art of letting go. I am working at it. I can do it for a few minutes at a time. And then wander some more.

I read this quote today and I think it applies:

"If you seek and haven't found, just keep seeking, with trust and patience - for another day, another year, twenty years, fifty, a lifetime, fifty thousand lifetimes: ultimately you can't help but find, just as the fruit tree can't help but bear fruit when the right season comes." Stephen Mitchell.

The Devil and The Devil's Advocate

2010-06-05T03:23:00.000-07:00

And all their brothers and sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends are waging a battle in my mind and in my heart. And I just can't get them to friggin shut up.

And then you can throw in Jesus, and Buddha. And all the nasty mean things anyone has ever said to me.

I can't sleep now for days. The earth is shifting. Snakes and lizards are showing up.

And I have to go to LA in 3 hours. I am totally fucked. I just want to sleep all day and go for a long walk.

Wandering the Dirt Roads

2010-06-01T22:04:00.001-07:00

All I can do these days is walk and work. Nothing new about that.

Last 2 days I put the leash on the dog and went walking. More like wandering. I'd start out with a direction and then just wander.

The pain is not subsiding. The confusion is not subsiding.

Pain stays with us forever. Sometimes we forget but mostly it's there.

I am tired of people who think everything can be wrapped up in nice little packages. Drugs, alcohol, therapy, religion, self help. They all have the solutions and they all friggin fail.

Pain is something to be lived with to love to embrace. To make friends with.

I think the Buddists have it right. Or not.

Ouch.

I'm a Total Wreck.....God Damnit

2010-05-27T20:58:00.000-07:00

The pain is not subsiding. It's getting worse. I hurt like hell. I had a birthday yesterday on the 2nd month anniversary of my dad's death. God Damnit. God Damnit. Fuck this shit.

I totally feel like hell. My mom has been dead for 3 months. And the pain is getting worse. I feel so alone. So friggin alone. I want to hibernate.

Working in bed. Forced myself to go for a walk. Wandering the dirt roads. Round and round. Not wanting to go home. No where else to go. I fucking hurt like hell.

My parents are both dead. I am a lost soul. I want my life to have meaning. And it all seems so pointless now.

I live so my girls won't hurt. They are the loves of my life.

I am a total wreck and I hurt like hell.

Death on My Mind

2010-05-25T19:33:00.000-07:00

It's been on my mind for over a year. I ventured out walking today. It's been at least a week. Between the dog having to have some fox tails removed from his throat, going to the parents house to dismantle it, the memorial and discord among my siblings I have just stayed in bed. Worked in bed. And felt really sad.

Yep, I went walking today. And I felt sad and I still feel sad.

I wandered up and down the dirt roads. Saw a man walking his dog so I turned around and back tracked. I cried and I thought.

I was thinking about the mystery of life. Where do we encounter that mystery. I guess for everyone it is different. I find it when I walk. And when I create. And when I contemplate my children. The last year watching my parents die. The day my dad died. The last conversation. When I look into a certain persons eyes. When I synchronize my breathing with the other. It rarely happens in large groups or in noisy malls or noisy churches. Or when people are pontificating.

It comes in the quiet moments. The space between faith and doubt. Between the secular and the sacred. Between life and death. Between the fear and the leap.

I really think we can only touch that mystery when we slow down. When we pray without ceasing in our own way.

The Memorial

2010-05-25T00:56:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we had the memorial service for the friends and family. I got up early to dye my hair. My kid said I needed to. Was hyper and hyped. Drove to Peets Coffee in Tarzana before the service.

A lovely 4 year old girl dressed in pink started talking to us in the coffee house. Was the gift of the day. Totally cute with her pink sweatshirt and pink headband, her blond hair and blue eyes. Her name was Hannah.

Off to the Church. Currently I am at odds with my sister. The whole thing is so surreal. All of my siblings are acting weird.

I spoke. I was complemented on my speech. We had food. My aunt and uncle and cousins came. I had not seen them in ages. It was all good. I mingled and talked to everyone I needed to. I don't think I ever sat down.

Then off to the parents home with the kids. They wanted to look around. It was the first time they were at the house since the death of their grandpa.

I feel insane and crazy. Life totally out of balance. I hate all of this dismantling of their lives. I wish it were over. I want to move forward. I want my own life.

Below is the text of my speech:

I am Debbie, the oldest child of Peter and Aleida. Thank you all so much for being here. I can see they had a whole life outside of parent and grandparenthood that I was more or less not aware of. They would be happy to know you are all here today.

Never in my wildest imagination did I think I would be here talking about both of them at the same time. Seriously, it was a shock to have them both go at essentially the same time.

The last year was amazingly hard. Yet I am grateful. Our lives slowed down. We got to spend time reflecting. As my mother spent time in the nursing home and in the board and care facility we visited her regularly. Her children rallied. I sat with her week after week. Mostly there was little to no conversation. But just sitting there was peaceful. Watching her watch the world. Wondering what was going on in her head. Wondering what is was like to slow down so much. There were days I would just sit and chatter. I got to tell her all the things I needed to tell her or forgot to tell her or was too busy to tell her. Towards the end, sometimes I would just sit and watch her breath in and out. Sometimes I would synchronize my breaths to her breaths. It did not matter that we were not talking. I spent the year writing about the transition. The last day I saw her I wrote:

I walked in the room. Her eyes were closed and she was hooked up to an oxygen machine. I sat and talked to my dad. She was covered with a brown flowered blanket. I kept staring at her feet. Her ankles were sticking out from under the blanket. They looked so small and bony. Her long slender size 9 feet were covered with red fuzzy socks. They became the focal point I kept going back to.

When I left that day, I really thought I would be back a couple more times.

About 3 weeks later I was in the emergency room at my dad’s side. I could not believe this was really happening. We spent the next week on a roller coaster. The night before he died I asked him if he were afraid. He said no. I knew he was at peace and ready to go.
On Mar 27th I wrote:

My dad died Friday, Mar 26th around 7pm, 33 days after my mom died. He had aspirated, his blood pressure was really low. We took life support off at around 6 pm. My 4 siblings, one of my daughters, 2 in laws and I were with him. I held his hand and we all watched as his breathing slowed done. His heart rate dropped and his blood pressure dropped. He made one last gasp for air and then some random heart beats. He was gone.

Earlier in the day I sat with him for about 35 mins. Holding his hand, crying and telling him what a great dad he was, how I would miss him and how much his grand daughters would miss him.

A heartbreaking day, a heartbreaking 11 days.

They lived the lives they wanted. They were married 60 years. They are survived by 5 children and 8 grand daughters. Like most people they both had their good days and their bad days. They fought and yelled and loved. They stayed married all these years. They taught me the 10 commandments. They taught me about loyalty, about integrity and about staying the course.

When I think of my mom I think of sewing and cooking. I think of pink and white gingham checks. The curtains she made for me when I was 10. Of baking cookies to send to the USO, of potting marigolds to take to a nursing home. B& W Fred Astaire movies on TV as she was ironing. I think of hanging laundry on the line and folding endless amounts of baby diapers. I think of going to the beach at Leo Carrillo, playing hearts in the trailer for hours. I think of her babysitting my kids and being grandma.

When I think of my dad I think of camping and the Sierra Nevadas. Rock creek. Hiking, fishing. He taught me to fish and to eat the fish I caught. He would clean and cook the fish over the campfire. Then we would have to pick out all of the tiny bones to eat them. I think of strawberry pie from Marie Callendars. On the weekends when he and I were out doing errands we would frequently stop at Marie Calledars to see if they had strawberry pie and if they did he would buy me a piece. He taught me about computers, how to hammer a nail and be self sufficient. I remember the time he came to my house in WLA when he and I hung drywall on the ceiling of the garage. My mother thought we hired help but we did it ourselves.

They both taught me that community service was very important and so was family. I remember one time when I was an unruly and mostly arrogant and belligerent teenager, they wanted me to attend some sort of family event that I certainly did not want to attend. I got yelled at and was told family was most important. Boy was I mad. But they did create a family with strong ties and loyalty. A family that saw them through the end.

The last year has been a blessing. Because mom was slowing down and could not converse I got to spend a lot of time with dad. Drinking cups of latte and cappuccino at Starbucks and Peets. Dinners at Poquito Mas, Islands, Cupids Hot Dogs. Margheritas and beer. Endless conversation about health care reform. He pretended he didn’t agree with me but I could see I was winning him over. He was always the one to initiate the conversation so I knew he wanted to hear my liberal point of view. I think these conversations made him feel alive.

During this last year I was able to make peace with them. To forgive them for being human. To forgive myself for being human. To take stock of what it means to live a full and authentic life. To know what matters and what does not. There were days I dreaded the long drive between the valley and my home. It drained me, hurt me and took everything I could muster out of me. And for this last year I thank them so much…it was one of the best and the worst years of my life. A year of grace and beauty.

They lived good solid lives. They arrived at the end of this life have gone to that unknown place. Yet they still remain here with us, in our hearts, in our mannerisms, in our stubbornness, in our physical attributes and in their 8 granddaughters.

They will be missed and they will be remembered. And now I am going to read a quote from a book I just finished reading by Sara Miles:

"The death of a beloved is an event that rings and rings through a life: bearing it is not a problem to be solved, but a long , slow piece of music to listen to."
And I know I will be listening to this piece of music for a very long time.

Thank you all for being here and for being part of our parents lives and our lives. I hope they are together right now smiling down on us.

The List Part 2

2010-05-17T22:17:00.000-07:00

This weekend I made some headway towards eliminating some of the items on The List.
Pillow covers done. Check.
Libby's dress hemmed. Check.
Started the roman shades for Annie's room. Check.
Finished the quilt top for Lindsay (unless I add a border which I think I am going to do). Check.
Put the cage around the garden and planted one zucchini and one tomato. Need to plant 4 more. Got the tires for the last 4 and 2 tires to make a compost bin. Check.
Cleaned the dining room and the kitchen. Check.

Add to list:

Write what I need to say at the memorial this Sunday.

Other than all of this I am having an anxiety attack. And an attack of sadness. Check.

The List

2010-05-11T21:08:00.000-07:00

I have a long list of things I need to finish doing:

Finish the quilt for Eva and Ben.
Work on the quilt for Lindsay.
Finish knitting the sweater I started months ago.
Paint the kitchen.
Make the roman shades for Annie's room, my room, the kitchen.
Make the drapes for the dining room.
Bookkeeping.
Finish organizing the office.
Put the vegetable garden together.
Plant the tomatoes and the zucchini.
Work on getting the studio together.
Finish reading Moby Dick.
Finish reading 2 other books.
Make the pillow covers for the sofa pillows.

And all I can do is sit and bed and feel sad and watch stupid TV shows on Netflix.

Sick and Tired of It All

2010-05-11T14:47:00.000-07:00

Sick and tired of watching Netflix. Sick and tired of the wind and the cold. Sick and tired of dealing with death and it's repercussions. Sick and tired of my siblings. Sick and tired of TV studies. Sick and tired of selfish self centered people. I am fucking sick of my life and I need some shifting to happen. I am sick of walking alone. I am sick of politics. I am sick of driving to LA. I am sick of a house 1/2 put together. I am sick of my car. I am sick of struggling. Fuck this all. Just for today. I wish I could drink a bottle of red wine.

I am a cranky bitch right now.

I want to scream and yell. If I were the violent type I would have the desire to punch someone.

Rant over. Back to working on my TV Study.

It's One of Those Times

2010-05-06T23:41:00.000-07:00

Of life. A period of being in between. Of unsettledness. Of feeling like nothing is right and nothing is wrong.

I got out of bed and worked at my desk today. I really didn't have much work to do all this week.

Been pondering my role as trustee and executor of my families estate. It's a big job with a substantial amount of assets. I have moved into take charge mode.

Dealing with tax people, attorneys, financial advisers. People who don't return phone calls. People who only see death as another way of earning a living.

I have been sewing all week. For hours. And gardening. And going to hardware stores. And walking.

Where do I go next? How am I going to transition from daughter to orphan? For a few random moments I feel liberated. I realize no matter what I do now there will be no parent around to judge or criticize. As sad as it is to be an orphan there is something really cool about this.

I can learn to ride a motorcycle or take flying lesson and my mothers pinched face and disapproving voice will never appear. Hmmmm.

I can drink too much and swear too much. I can open the door of their house and yell obscenities at the top of my voice and there will only be a silence.

I am not happy to be an orphan but I will deal.

I only hope my sister will not take over the role of disapproving mother. Yikes. Waaay too scary a thought. I think she wants to. I am pissed at her. She has issues I never knew existed. I am afraid she wants to pull me back into that place I feel liberated from. And I don't like it at all.

The earth is starting to shift. I am being led and pulled to follow my path. And I am going in the right direction. And change is happening. Slowly, one step at a time. There are brief moments of light. It is not all darkness anymore. Mostly but not all.

Tunneling Through the Sludge

2010-04-24T10:06:00.000-07:00

It's hard work. There's the emotional baggage. There's the pain and confusion. And there's the house. The stuff in the house that matters and the trash.

Last weekend I met with my siblings and we started the long process of weeding through the remnants of our shared past. The joys and the pains. We found stuff that we had forgotten and photos of times past.

It was a painful process.

It opens up a new place in my life. A continued reevaluation and a further refining of who I am and what matters to me. What makes an authentic life.

And it all hurts and it's all work.

I am spending my days in bed, working in bed, living in bed. My body and heart are tired and they hurt.

It is a process and like all process it includes growth. And growth hurts. I think I will be wiser and more real when this next step of the transition is done.

For now, I do what I can do and it is not much except work these days.

Tossing and Turning

2010-04-16T03:26:00.000-07:00

3:26 am. Cannot sleep. Tossing and turning. Thinking about all the things that cause me pain. Worrying about going to LA tomorrow and getting all my work done.

Worrying I will be too tired. I am supposed to go to the bank and open the safe deposit box. I don't have my dad's death certificate. I will have to stop and get it.

I won't have enough time.

I am the oldest child and I will never be able to escape that fact. Once the oldest always the oldest. No one knows that more is expected from the oldest always. Even when the oldest is a fuck up.

I toss and turn.

I worry about my car. And my garage.

I buy a new app for my iPhone. It's a camera app. A super cool camera app. I take some cool and groovy pictures with the new app. I really want to go outside and take some pictures.

I think.

I think we are all living quiet and desperate lives. We are born and then we are alive and then we die. And really how many of us make a decent impact.

My dad and mom helped. They worked helping kids at the YMCA.

I worry my like isn't meaningful enough. I worry that the best things I have don't aren't good enough.

So I don't sleep. And I have a lot of work to do tomorrow. I have to take charge. I have to delegate.

Should I bring my dad's computer back to my house. Should I have the mail forwarded.

I just don't want to deal with it all.

It Happened

2010-04-12T21:35:00.001-07:00

A whirlwind trip to San Francisco. We ate a lot, drank a lot and visited with 4 different friends.

The purpose of the trip was to bury BOTH of my parents at the same time. We took two wooden boxes of ashes to the family plot in Colma.

As the Priest was talking I kept looking at those two boxes. My parents have been turned into ashes. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. I am heartbroken.

We drank in the Tonga Room the night before. We moved the party to my brother's room in the hotel after the Tonga Room. My kids and my brother and sister in law smoked weed and I drank red wine. The next day we went to the funeral. Then we went to my mom's second cousin's house and ate and drank. I had a beer in the hotel bar and 2 beers afterward at a dive bar with my brother and his wife.

Too much food and too much drink. Too much noise and too much talk.

I feel crazy and alone. None of this feels good or right.

I am lost. I am an orphan.

Fuck Oh Fuck Oh Fuck Oh Fuck

2010-04-05T20:26:00.000-07:00

I lost 2 parents in the first quarter of 2010. Today I bought an alarm system for my house. Rational reasons...but honestly I got it so I would feel safer. Seriously, I am certain having an alarm on my house won't take away the fact that I am now an orphan.

I really hate this.

The Foods I Ate the Week Before My Dad Died

2010-04-04T22:03:00.000-07:00

Ok, so this might be weird or odd or insane. It seems extremely important to chronicle the food events of the week.

I was called to the emergency room on Mar 17th and he died on Mar 26th.

I received the call to come to LA around noon on the 17th. Clearly I don't remember eating that day. I madly drove to LA crying all the way. Calling everyone I needed to call. I really don't remember the sequence of my eating that night.

I arrived at the emergency room and waited with my sister, my brother and my sister in law. We finally got to see him. I think at one point I walked across the street from the hospital and got a tuna sandwich from Subway. Around 8 pm he was moved to CCU. I think I finally left the hospital around 11 pm and drove home. I was desperately longing for a soft serve ice cream cone. Insane because I can't even remember the last time I had one of those. I drove to the 118 to the 5 to the 14. I was looking for someplace to get one. I decided not to. I changed my mind. I was not in my right mind. I remembered a McDonalds was in Little Rock. I waited and got a chocolate covered one.

Day two. I worked all day. And answered calls from the rest of the family. I waited until late to leave and drive to LA. I took Annie with me. We stopped at Libby's and picked her up. We were all hungry for dinner. We decided on Sr. Fish in Eagle Rock. I remember when it was a walk up window on Figueroa way back when. I had fish tacos. Annie had potato tacos and Libby had fish tacos.

Visit to the hospital. The kids went to Libbys I went to sleep at grandpa's house.

Day three. I didn't eat anything. Just went straight to the hospital. Left after a while and met my friend Renee at Urth Cafe in SM for coffee, eggs, toast and conversation. Stayed for a while. Stopped back at dad's house and worked for a while. Back to the hospital. The hospital throws the visitors out at 6:30pm. I left and went to the Topanga Mall. Wandered around and stopped for Panda Express. Went into random stores with no purpose except to pass the time. Back to the hospital and then the drive home.

Day four. Stayed home. Food was no longer significant.

Day five. Sunday. Drove back to LA midday. Starbucks before I arrive at the hospital latte and a wrap with eggs and black beans. Trip to Trader Joes. Ate samples and juice. Later had an ice cream at a place called Mencies at the Fallbrook Mall. Drive home at night.

Day six. Monday. Stayed home. Went to the Abbey for dinner and met my friend Suzanne there. Stopped at the mini mart for a bottle of Pinot Grigio.

Day seven. Worked all day and nursed a migraine. Had dinner at the Abbey again and drove to LA straight after. Stopped at the hospital.

Day eight. Starbucks for breakfast. Met 2 of my sister in laws at Baja Fresh. Salad. Went back to the hospital. When I left I had the need to wander. Went to Whole Foods and got some food from their prepared case. Top sirloin, cucumber salad. A chocolate croissant, oj, and 2 chocolate bars.

Day nine. Stopped at the Starbucks dad and I always went to. Had lunch with my sister, my brother, my sister in law at Tikka Grill in the Fallbrook Square. They threw me out of the hospital at 6:30 pm again. I wandered around and ended up at Coco's. Maybe I went there once a zillion years ago. I ate too much just so I did not have to leave. Back to the hospital.

Day ten, the day he died. Stopped again at the Starbucks he and I always went to. Arrived at the hospital. All hell was breaking lose. And it appeared the end was coming. Two of my other brothers arrived. Sister on her way. I left. I came back. We determined we would have to pull the plug. We took care of business. I needed a break. I walked across the street and had another tuna sandwich at Subway. My heart was breaking. He passed. We all went back to my brother's house. We ate oranges and pizza. I slept the night there.

Day eleven. My brother made pancakes for breakfast. I went back to the house and picked some oranges from the tree.

My heart was broken.

Ok, Can I Wake Up and Find Out My Dad is Still Living

2010-03-30T21:45:00.000-07:00

I can't handle this. Life is just too surreal these days. Everyday I want my dad to still be alive. I am mad at everyone I talk to. I am tired to telling everyone what happened.

My house is a mess. Nothing feels balanced.

I fucking hate this.

Period.

The Worst 11 Days Ever

2010-03-27T23:45:00.000-07:00

My dad died Friday, Mar 26th around 7pm, 33 days after my mom died. He had aspirated, his blood pressure was really low. We took life support off at around 6 pm. Me and my 4 siblings, one of my daughters and 2 in laws were with him. I held his hand and we all watched as his breathing slowed done. His heart rate dropped and his blood pressure dropped. He made one last gasp for air and then some random heart beats. He was gone.

Earlier in the day I sat with him for about 35 mins. Holding his hand, crying and telling him was a great dad he was, how I would miss him and how much his grand daughters would miss him.

A heartbreaking day, a heartbreaking 11 days.

I Really Really Really Don't Want Him to Die

2010-03-26T00:04:00.000-07:00

9 days in the hospital. 8 in the Critical Care Unit, today in ICU. I so really don't want him to die. He is my dad. He is a strong man. He was supposed to live forever.

7:30 am the doctor calls. He aspirated last night. Having a hard time breathing. Should be use a breathing tube or not? Call my siblings. We all rush to the hospital. I was at the hospital on and off from 8:30 am to 11:30pm. I am exhausted.

It's been a roller coaster ride. Hope, no hope. Since 5pm tonight I just kept watching. Everything in my gut says he will die soon. He had an oxygen mask on, monitors attached all over him, IV, tubes draining the fluid from his lungs. He was cold and so they put a blanket on him that looks like an air mattress. His blood pressure was so low they had to give him additional medication.

His hands are swollen and all red. He has wounds all over his body. His skin is thin. He is fragile.

I was afraid to leave the hospital. I don't want him to die alone. I was so tired I had to go.

My heart is breaking.

Seriously, This is Nothing Like Grey's Anatomy

2010-03-19T23:10:00.000-07:00

Weds, ER from 2pm to 8pm, critical care unit 8pm to 11pm. Thurs, work until 5pm, drive to LA, pick up kids, CCU 9pm to midnight. Sleep at dad's house while dad in the hospital. Fri, 9am to 10:30am CCU. Go to lunch. CCU 3pm to 6:30pm, go back to the hospital at 8pm. So tired, turn around and go home.

So, where is Derek Shepard when we need him. Where is Meridith, Baily, Webber, etc.

Dad fell on Tues. Was laying on the living room floor for at least 24 hours. My sister in law went to check on him and he was incoherent and could not talk. Called the ambulance. Rushed to ER. He was dehydrated, septic (blood poisoning). Neurological issues. He had hit his head. The car door was open. Looks like he ran into something with his car.

Ok, so am I living a nightmare gone bad. Today he said hi. He is slightly better. I don't know what is happening. I am overwhelmed. And really fucked up.

While I was sitting with him today, they wheeled a dead body out of CCU. I am so over this death thing and hospitals and dying parents. When mom died we were supposed to get a little reprieve.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck.......................AGAIN

2010-03-12T19:05:00.000-08:00

Just found out my dad's blood white cell count is really low. He is having a transfusion tomorrow. Ok, God, how much am I supposed to handle.

Processing

2010-03-11T19:23:00.000-08:00

Death. It happened.

Yesterday around 5 pm I decided to take a trip to Target. The closest store to my house that has everything. I needed to get a curtain rod.

This Target happens to have an in store Starbucks. I had a grande latte. Around 5. Big mistake. Sometimes it affects me and sometimes not.

I think I was awake until 2 or 3 am. Processing. It all. Tossing and turning. Comforted by my dog sleeping next to me.

I have been tired all day. Was totally inefficient when it came to work.

I took the dog for a walk around noon. I decided to take a big stick with me. In case of unrestrained dogs. Walking my new favorite walk. A dirt bike path to Green to Tamarack to my street and then home. Google maps tells me it is 2 miles. Not great but good enough for a short walk. Spent the walk processing and listening to Old Crow Medicine Show, over and over.

Now I am tired. My "to do " list is long. I just can't do any of it now. I will have to sleep and hustle tomorrow.

Processing goes on.

I Just Fucking Don't Know

2010-03-09T10:35:00.000-08:00

Anymore.

My mom is dead, my kid is 24, I am revisiting the past, I am cold, I am sick of winter.

WTF. I just don't know what is what or what is real or what is true...anymore...or did I ever know.

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK

2010-03-05T05:07:00.000-08:00

While waiting in Cedars Sinai Hospital for my dad yesterday I came across an article talking about the benefits of swearing. It said sometimes swearing eases physical pain. I vote that it eases emotional pain too.

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK.

I can't take this anymore. I am drained to the max. Mom gone, dad in hospital outpatient all day. I just want to scream.

I did some retail therapy today, which I never do. Bought some Frye Boots at Bloomingdales.

This aging parent thing is killing me. I can't fucking take it any more. In LA for 2 more nights. I want to be home so badly.

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK.

Can I Just Scream Please

2010-03-03T23:53:00.000-08:00

Oh fuck. I am screaming. I just friggin deleted what I wrote.

Bottom line here is that I am helping everyone and I desperately need help myself and I have no one to ask.

Something is drastically wrong with this picture.

Moving on. I have been scanning and cropping pictures of my mom for the memorial service and below is one of my favorites.
She was so pretty. Looked like a movie star in this picture. So weird to be assessing all of this. So fucking weird.

Ok...God, back to it. I fuckin need help. Can you hear me. I can't do this anymore. Help me please.

Living Without an Agenda

2010-03-01T21:18:00.001-08:00

I am going to try to live with one agenda only from this point on, and that will be to live authentically, honestly and to put love first. Period. To have only one goal which is the same. I can't live any other way.

Faith and/or Lack of It

2010-02-28T21:31:00.000-08:00

Faith is what gets me through day to day. Then there are the days or the moments where faith is lost and despair takes over.

Death and addictions are on my mind. I fear for my life. I fear that for some reason I will not get it together and will be stuck in this place forever. There is nowhere more to run. I need to suck it up and move forward. No more excuses. And then I get so tired I can barely move.

I take a bath or go for a walk. I slowly reconnect and faith comes back. Faith that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. That I am following my own path and that it is the right one. I breathe and breathe.

I allow myself to be tired. This is a time of intense grief and I cannot push. I cannot panic.

I must have faith.

Broken and Losing It

2010-02-26T21:45:00.000-08:00

Ok, this is a really weird time. I am in LA with my dad. Mom's stuff all around the house. Picture's etc.

I spent the afternoon with an old friend. Lovely. Driving from WLA to the Valley I started to freak out.

I am broken and fucked up and losing it. I just have to let go and stop panicking.

She's Gone

2010-02-23T13:19:00.000-08:00

Goodbye mommy. Aleida Mae Wesson McAfee January 9,1930 to February 23, 2010. I love you.

Fighting

2010-02-22T18:44:00.000-08:00

With my kid, with my demons, with the world.

Ouch.

Last night my oldest daughter started bagging on her sister to me. Not the first time. A kind of ongoing dialog. I had had it. We got into it. She hung up on me. I posted something cryptic she did not like on Facebook. I sent her an email explaining the problem. She does not respond to the valid points. She deletes me as a "friend" on Facebook.

I was hurt. She gets defensive. I doubt my parenting. I wonder how did I raise this girl. My beautiful lovely almost 24 year old. Sometimes she is so grown up and so responsible. Then there are days she is narcissistic, selfish and majorly lacking in compassion. I cry. I worry she is too much like her dad. An addict, bi-polar, narcissistic, borderline personality.

I wonder where I went wrong. How can this child be so lacking in compassion.

I am tired all day. I feel beat up and burned out.

Later in the day she re"friends" me on Facebook. I am relieved. I am mad. Why does she have to engage me in her drama. She calls herself an "adult" and yes, sometimes she is and sometimes she is the 5 year old who threw a temper tantrum in the parking lot of the LA County Fair and peed in her car seat.

And sometimes I am the tired hurting mom who engages in her drama. And I scream and yell.

Today was bad. Sometime in late afternoon I call my dad to check in. Mom is not eating. I am thinking possibly 2-3 weeks left. I am worried it will happen when dad needs to have surgery. I am worried it will happen on Libby's birthday.

And if that is the case will she be an adult and have a little compassion? Maybe I should pre-warn her.

It's Awful

2010-02-21T14:39:00.000-08:00

And then again it's not.

Friday another trip to LA. Arrived at the nursing home first. My mom was sitting in her wheelchair in her room and my dad was sitting there with her. I walked in the room. Her eyes were closed and she was hooked up to an oxygen machine. I sat and talked to my dad. She was covered with a brown flowered blanket. I kept staring at her feet. Her ankles were sticking out from under the blanket. They looked so small and bony. Her long slender size 9 feet were covered with red fuzzy socks. They became the focal point I kept going back t.

The nurse had been there earlier that day. He had drained her tumor and hooked up the machine for the first time. The tumor is draining into her throat. It is causing her to choke. She has more or less stopped eating. At least for now. I have been told that the eating thing might come and go but then the tumor is a factor. As it grows and drains into her throat she will not be able to eat even it she wants to. I sat there numb. Just rambling on to my dad. She would gag on the fluid in her throat every once in a while. I wanted to jump up and run. But I just stayed. I don't know how to deal with this dying business. She never once opened her eyes. She never once acknowledged me.

I just sat there talking to my dad. That's all I can do. I want this over. It is awful. But I imagine it will be even more awful once she goes even when it is a relief.

So much to think about. The meaning of each or our lives. I only want to live authentically, lovingly and honestly. Nothing else.

I sit here wanting to run. Desperately needing chocolate. Then I think about going to the grocery store. It will be overrun with people running, running to something, running from something. People with agendas. People who watch too much TV and believe everything they hear. People who drink too much, or lie or manipulate, or are rude or who hide behind false religions. Greedy, needy people who aren't willing to do the work to be authentic. Sinners in the worst sense. Just thinking about driving to the store and dealing with this makes me tired.

We have no milk, no fruit. My staples. I will force myself to go. Maybe the chocolate will distract me from my thoughts.

Stop Running

2010-02-17T20:25:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I was visiting a friend I have in the desert. She runs the local framing shop. I don't know her that well but somehow we always have long and very interesting conversations when I go in her shop to either drop off something or pick up something.

Yesterday our conversation drifted onto the topic of addictions then drifted onto relationships. At one point I said something like: "If he would STOP RUNNING....". We both laughed. We are all running from something or running to something. If only we would all stop running.

Today was a lovely day. It was sunny during the day. I took a break from work to do the laundry. Or rather in between calls I did the laundry. I hung the wet clothes on the line. I know I have expressed my pleasure in the past about hanging laundry on the line. I had to pause. It was so beautiful. The air was warm and the sky was blue. I carefully hung each item and as I did I marveled at how peaceful and grounding the process was. I was there enjoying each moment. Life is beautiful. Even when it hurts it is beautiful.

Later in the day I was called to leave the house. Something I don't do that often. My kid locked her keys in her car and I needed to rescue her. She was at school which is about a 40 minute drive from the house. I went. Listening the the music of the Old Crow Medicine Show. My new favorite band. I found her and dropped off the keys. Since I was 3/4 of the way to the awesome quilt store in Apple Valley I decided to continue on. Bought some lovely fabrics. To make a quilt for my niece and one for a charity.

Driving home I stopped for a latte.

Back home, the sun was going down. It was starting to get chilly. Went out to the clothesline to bring the dry clothes inside before it became too dark. My hands were cold. I undid each clothespin, one at a time. Dropping the clothes into the basket. Marveling again at how much I love this process.

It was a good day. Only occasional thoughts of death, dying, the future, addictions. Just for today, mostly, I stopped running.

Not Bad Enough

2010-02-15T22:38:00.000-08:00

A couple of days ago I was in Rite Aid with my friend and she asked me how my mom was doing. I basically said, "not bad enough".

This feels like it is going on forever. We are as prepared as we will ever be. There is nothing more to be said. There is no more conversation. There is only waiting.

I went to LA to help Libby and Francis move into a house in Highland Park. It is adorable. I worked like a sheep dog. All day long and hard. Moving boxes and furniture. All day long I forgot about death. I forgot about addicts. I just worked helping my kid. It was a sunny and warm day. All was good. At the end of the day the sirens and helicopters were noisy. I forgot how noisy the city is. I am spoiled.

Now I am back in my little desert house. It is quiet and peaceful. Today was warm, 60. I sat on the patio for a while reading. It was lovely. For that moment I forgot about death and addicts.

Now I am exhausted. Emotionally exhausted. I took the dog for a walk, thinking about death and dying and addicts. It exhausted me. I can't get any strength. I wonder if the exhaustion will ever end. I wonder if this dying thing will ever be over. I wonder if I will ever know the truth. If I will have have an honest conversation with the addict.

I wonder if I will be stuck in this never ending limbo forever. I hope not. I want to move on. I want my mother to die. I have said goodbye. I don't know what else to do. I will wait and wait.

The Dream

2010-02-11T01:19:00.000-08:00

Last night I dreamed my ex-husband called me to tell me he had a movie contract and was making a lot of money. I immediately told him he owed me $45,000 and if he had so much money he could pay it to me. He offered to pay me $50. I knew he was lying about his movie contract and he hung up the phone on me. I didn't get the money.

I wonder why I had that dream.

I walked outside first thing when I got out of bed. It was a take your breath away sort of beauty. The mountains behind the house were covered with snow and the ground around my house had patches of snow. The sun was breaking in between the clouds. I thought to myself how beautiful it was and I forgot the dream.

I forgot about the pain and I forgot about death and I forgot about addictions. And just for a moment everything was perfect and beautiful and clean. And life goes on.

I'm Pissed and Irritated

2010-02-06T22:33:00.000-08:00

I am waiting to feel sad and I don't. I just want the process to be over with so I can deal with the repercussions.

I don't feel anything except irritation. I am going to LA tomorrow to do some family stuff. I am irritable about it all. I want to stay here in the desert and work on my house. I want to forget this is all happening.

But I can't forget and it is. And since that is the case, let's just get it over with. So I can grieve and move on.

Cloudy Night

2010-02-05T01:00:00.000-08:00

I have been waiting for the tears to come. For a moment and then they were gone. I went outside to see if I could see Orion and the sky was cloudy. No star in sight.

She is still here. A big family gathering this Sunday. I am dreading it. I am tired of seeing death. Every time I go to LA I feel death.

I want this to be over.

The Ethics Police

2010-02-04T01:25:00.000-08:00

I think there should be something called the ethics police.

I took the dog for a walk today around 3 pm. I did it because I was frustrated. The internet was shutting down sporadically all morning. I was not making much headway with my work. So I leashed up the dog and went out. On the way back a pack of 3 unrestrained dogs was crossing the path in front of us. I was scared so I turned around and went back. Then I got to a corner and 3 other dogs came running toward us. One of the dogs bit my dog and he now has a huge cut under his chin.

The owners of the 3 dogs just stood and stared. This is where the ethics police comes in. They did nothing to mitigate the situation. I was screaming and ended up throwing a rock at the dogs. The finally went off and I took my dog home. And the owner's did nothing.

I didn't notice the cut until a few hours later. I just want to cry. I don't understand why people have to be so irresponsible and uncaring. It is just where I live. Or is it the country we live in. Are Americans more selfish, self centered, narcissistic than the rest of the world?

I am so tired of it all. Why can't we all treat each other with love and kindness. And I know we all make mistakes, but a simple apology goes a long way.

Searching for Orion

2010-02-02T20:08:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I drove to LA. I intended to visit mom. After a long lunch with Renee I realized it was late, 3:30pm. I figured if I drove to the valley, it would be at least 4:30pm before I got there. Then I needed to meet Libby around 7. It just did not seem feasible.

I was relieved. I did not want to go. I want to remember my mom as she was. The mom I had as a little girl. Not the stiff catatonic smiling woman who does not know my name. The the woman with the protruding tumor.

Driving around town I felt claustrophobic. I usually love LA. It was making me feel crazy. Too many cars, too much stimulation. I wanted to go home.

I went to IKEA. I spent money. I want my house put together. I want to feel settled. I bought a bookshelf to put the cd's and dvd's on. It will make my living room feel put together.

Then I went to Old Town Pasadena. Stopped at Crate and Barrel. Pretty things. Really pretty. They did not have what I wanted. I walked to Sur La Table. I found what I wanted. Libby was not home yet. I drove down Colorado to Vroman's. Went to the coffeehouse and checked my email. Libby was ready for me.

I drove to Highland Park. She and her bf just rented a house there. I cried. I feel like she is going home. The house they are renting looks right up the hill to the house directly across the street from the house Libby was born in and lived in until she was 12. I cried. She is going home.

The house is cute. It has a claw foot tub. Totally adorable. We carried in boxes in the dark. No electricity yet.

Drove the long way to Eagle Rock and had dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant.

Drove home. Glad to be home. Glad to look up into the dark sky and search for Orion. Glad to be in bed. Glad to curl up in a fetal position and pull the covers over my head. Glad to grieve the endings and the beginnings and the transitions.

And my dog sleeps curled up next to me, keeping me warm.

The Thing About Death

2010-01-31T09:45:00.000-08:00

The thing about the death of your mother or someone close is that it makes you think about your own mortality. It makes you think about the meaning of life and what is it you are doing to make your stay on earth meaningful and worthwhile.

I spend hours and hours thinking about this and it always comes back to the quality of the relationships we have.

I feel lacking in intimacy and I feel scared that I will never experience real intimacy and commitment with another person before I die. And that panics me. I think it is the most important thing. The exploration of spiritual, emotional and physical intimacy.

I have run away from it for so long. I played at it when I was married. I never trusted him enough to really go down that road. Then I have avoided it for the last 13 years, keeping my friends at arms length.

I am done with avoiding. I am preparing.

Maybe my mother's death will be a catalyst. I am waiting to see what happens.

Drinking With Dad

2010-01-30T20:46:00.000-08:00

Dad came to move the telephone line today. My sister drove. We moved the line and then went to Mama Marias for dinner and drank too much.

Then I went to Maple and had some more.

My mother is dying.

I don't know how to cope.

I am ok.

And that is all.

Comfort Food

2010-01-30T00:58:00.000-08:00

Jeezzz. I have been eating comfort food for a week. On Tues day I ate a brownie. And snacks and snacks. Last night I was so desperate I went to the mini mart around the corner and bought a bag of potato chips and an Hagen Daz bar. I don't eat this kind of stuff. I ate some marshmallows late in the day today and then had some bread at 9pm.

WTF. I am just so numb and exhausted. I hope I can stop this soon. I can't bear to gain any weight. I need to stop now.

Death on My Mind

2010-01-27T20:31:00.000-08:00

Hati, my mom. Death all over the news. Death in my mind and heart.

I spoke to my mom's doctor today. If she is really not eating then we could be looking at around 2 weeks. I just can't wrap my mind around this. I worry about my own life coming to an end. Panicking that when all is said and done my life will be meaningless. Just a blip in time. Just another person who did not love enough. Who was angry too much and irritated too much. And forgot to smell the roses. Ok, so I guess I could live another 40 years if I take care. But 40 years can go by really quickly.

Ok, so, there are things I am proud of. My kids, the business I had from 1983 until 1997. The period that I raised my kids by myself from 1997 until just recently. I have given my time to my friends and charitable causes. I loved my addict friend when it seemed like there was no reason too.

Now I am here on the edge of an ending and a beginning. I know what the past has been. I don't know what the future is. I want so badly for my life to have meaning in the next phase. And I think the only meaning in life comes from love. Real authentic, accepting, forgiving love.

I watch the pictures of Haiti with despair. It is unbelievable. The carnage and the brokenness. At the same time I am amazed by all the compassion and love from the relief organizations. People rushing to help. Then I turn the page. And corporations and politicians are pushing self serving agendas and forget about those whose lives they are wrecking while they are debating. For shame.

Dumbass religious organizations blocking love and acceptance. Pushing their dumbass agendas without recognizing the lives they are wrecking havoc upon. Selfish, selfish, self serving agenda seekers.

Where are all the independent thinkers. The ones who are solution oriented. The ones who put love first. One world, one people. Love one another. Love thy neighbor. Forgive 70 times 7.

God, I feel insane today.

Goodbye mommy. I don't even remember who/what I am saying good bye to. Who is that mom of mine? I look at her picture and I don't remember. I just feel numb.

Goodbye mommy. I know you are still breathing in the bed over in West Hills. You are winding down and it will be soon. I am sorry I will not be the person you hoped me to be before you die.
I do love my life.

Goodbye mommy. I will miss you. I will miss the idea of you. I might be liberated. I don't know.

Goodbye mommy. I don't know how to deal with this.

The End is Getting Closer

2010-01-27T00:03:00.000-08:00

I spoke to dad tonight. Mom is not eating. He is worried. He said I might have to come sooner than Monday. I will call the doctor tomorrow to see what he thinks. I want to be there. This is really weird.

My Red Room

2010-01-25T20:41:00.000-08:00

I painted my office red. I love red. I have red eyeglasses, a red truck, a red robe, red shirts and now I have a red office. My red office makes me happy, at least for today.

Organizing the Garage and then Some

2010-01-23T18:52:00.000-08:00

I decided I had to sort of organize the garage. It is full of boxes that have not made their way into the house yet. And maybe never will or maybe never should. I found plenty of mouse/rat poop and about 20 photos were shredded by the mouse/rat. I guess I was bummed. Sort of. I moved the bins of fabric against the wall. Brought in boxes of books. And swept up mouse/rat poop. I moved some of the tools and camping stuff into a large storage space inside the garage. I am going to turn the garage into an art studio.

In the process I came across photos and more photos. Decided to scan a bunch. Mostly my mom. The photo below is my mom and me on my first birthday. It is one of my favorites.

I think I am scanning these photos in anticipation of her upcoming death. Maybe a way of preparing myself. Maybe a way of grounding myself. A way of contemplating the past and the future. Where I have been and what I want for the rest of my life. I still feel numb about all of it. Just working my way through it all.

My oldest daughter went to visit my mom today. The picture below is my mom and my daughter on New Years Eve 2000.

A completely different life, then. So, she did not go by choice. She had to have grandpa pick her up from the mechanic where she was getting the car fixed and he took her. I know how hard it is to be there. I am glad she went though. It will probably be the last time or almost last.

I would like to be there for the death. I don't know if it will happen.

The Waiting Game

2010-01-22T20:57:00.000-08:00

Yesterday mom was bad. Today she has been moved to eating soft food. She is dying. My dad called me to announce that she was doing better today. I don't get it.

I just want her to die. I think she died a long time ago for me. Just because she is eating soft food doesn't make her better. She is dying. It is weeks not months.

Two, three, four weeks. No one knows but it is the end. I made my peace. I just want to go in and say goodbye.

I am tired of the waiting game. I feel like I am in limbo. I want to say goodbye. This prolonging of the end is killing me. She is not getting better, she doesn't know who I am. She is getting ready to leave this world and there is no turning back. It is hard to be around my dad when he keeps cheer leading her and us on. Let her go, say goodbye. Please dad. We will be here for you.

Acts of God

2010-01-21T19:04:00.000-08:00

Rained steadily all day. No real letups. The wind is blowing and earlier it was thundering and lightening. I do really love the lightening. The window in my office is leaking from the top of the frame. I fear the water is pooling at that side of the house along the wall and is dripping down the inside of the wall. Same thing in Annie's room. I also think there is a leak around the fireplace chimney. The water is pinging in the fireplace and leaking onto the floor right there. Yikes.

I have been sitting in my office all day with the little portable heater right next to me. I keep the door closed and my office stays nice and cozy. The rest of the house is freezing. I think around 60. I turn on the heat when Annie comes home. It's 37 outside.

My sister called. My mom was throwing up and did not eat today. They are giving her pain meds now. I called my dad. He says she is lying comfortably. I fear the end is creeping up fast. A few weeks, maybe. My brother is going to Hawaii next week. I think she will make it at least until he comes back.

I feel so numb about all of this. Not sad, just numb. I feel guilty for not being sad. I think I cried all year about it. I know it will hit me soon after the end.

It's just a waiting game right now. And I am tired.

Visit to the Abbey in the Rain

2010-01-20T21:26:00.000-08:00

Drove to the Abbey in the rain and wind. Sitting in the mass the rain was falling hard. There was something very comforting about this. Listing to mass and the rain at the same time. God's presence.

Had lunch. Sat with 2 of the women I know who work there and a local man. I felt at home. Was still raining when I left.

Arrived home.

Later as I was working I happened to glance outside and it was snowing. The noise of the rain had stopped and it was silent.

On the Edge

2010-01-18T22:52:00.000-08:00

Stepping closer to the edge. Getting ready to jump. Maybe in 3 months or maybe a bit longer. I suspect my life will go a little insane when my mother passes. And that is coming up soon.

It will take some getting used to. Being a motherless child, a child without a double buffer zone. It all scares me.

Around the World and Back Again

2010-01-17T23:40:00.000-08:00

I have the same internal dialog day after day. It ever so slightly changes. I come up with a forced solution now and again and then as quickly as they show up they evaporate.

The next day the dialog begins again. It is the year of this repeating dialog.

Life is Beautiful and Then Some

2010-01-14T22:53:00.001-08:00

As much as I live with struggle and angst life is beautiful.

A short turn a round to Pasadena today. Dentist appointment with the dentist I have been going to for about 27 years. Clean teeth feel so good.

Stop off at Whole Foods on Arroyo. Latte. Sample some cheeses and cookies. Buy some berries, shampoo, and noodle bowls.

Drive to Mt Washington to visit my friends Glenn and Liz. I have known Glenn for at least 25 years and probably longer. Liz a little less. Zanchow Chicken for dinner. Good conversation. Liz told me I was a very open and authentic person which was gratifying since my addict friend or not friend compared me to Hanibal Lector not that long ago...oh so I hope it was the Crown Royal talking.

It was a lovely time. So rich and gratifying. Lovely conversation.

Drive back to my beautiful desert home. Leave LA at 9pm. Turn on my David Gray radio station on Pandora. Stare at the dark sky. Watch it get darker the closer I get to home. Along 138 I marvel at the oncoming traffic. The headlights look like diamonds sparkling in the dark. I get home. As I step out of my truck I breathe deeply inhaling the cold desert air and look up at the sky. I love it here. I love my little desert home.

I pause for a moment and let go of my angst and anger from yesterday. I am at peace. I let it all go.

The answer is always love. The solution is always love. And now I am okay for a while.

Feeling the Pull

2010-01-13T22:24:00.000-08:00

I vacillate between peace and anger and frustration all day long. One moment I am feeling peaceful and content, the next I am pissed and angry and hurt.

Having this house is starting to ground me, starting to settle me. Yesterday I went walking with a friend and this morning she dropped off some lemons. I need to feel like I am here to stay.
I unpacked one more box of books. Which was satisfying. I hung the second curtain in the living room. Took the trash from Christmas to the dump. All satisfying.

And I worked all day.

Then I was angry, angry at my addict friend or ex-friend. Depending how one looks at it. Angry because I don't understand why anyone would ever embark down a road with a person unless one is willing to do the work it takes to be a friend, to have a relationship. For me, it's what comes after the first 10-15 years that is beautiful. The first 15 years are trauma and drama. Wondering how just walking away from anything is worth the time of day.

Then I work some more on the house. My head swirls. And I feel the pull of the transition moving forward. The pull of being settled.

And then I get a little scared.

In the Next Three Months

2010-01-11T23:13:00.000-08:00

I am going to cry a million tears.
I am going to walk about 300 miles.
I am going to watch about 120 hours of Netflix.
I am going to drink about 75 lattes.
I am going to drink about 120 cups of tea.
I am going to read the same 3 pages of the same 3 books I have been reading for about 6 months over and over.
I am going to go the the Abbey about 9 times.
I am going to reassess my life at least 100 times.
I am going to keep knitting and quilting.
I am going to be online at least 900 hours.
I am going to say goodbye to my mother.
I am going to write a speech to say at my mother's funeral.
I will send and read a zillion emails.
I will look up at the stars at least 90 times.
I will pray without ceasing.
I will pray for all my loved ones, the ones who hurt me, the difficult ones over and over and everyday.
I will walk the dog at least 80 times.
I will beg for forgiveness at least 90 times.
I will spend too much time in bed.
I will contemplate every day.
I will be cold.
I will pray without ceasing for the difficult people.
Amen!

Quote of the Day!

2010-01-10T09:05:00.000-08:00

From chapter 27 of the Tao Te Ching:

What is a good man but a bad man's teacher?
What is a bad man but a good man's job?
If you don't understand this, you will get lost,
however intelligent you are.
It is the great secret.

A Moment of Contentment

2010-01-09T23:14:00.001-08:00

Saturday. Nothing pressing. I worked on getting my office together. Not done yet. Working on it until it is done.

I unboxed the kids books I have saved. I looked at them fondly. I really love kids books and I saved some classics. I even have a few from when I was a kid. Bluebonnets for Lucinda, Umbrella, Harry the Dirty Dog among many. It was a moment of pleasure.

Took down the Christmas tree. Vacuumed the living room. Re-potted 2 houseplants. Swept the dining room. Took the dog for a walk.

Annie and her friend Kristen were in and out. Annie cleaned her room. They rented movies.

Today, I loved my new house. Am so grateful to be here. I love where I live. It was all peaceful. If only it could last for a while or at least until mom dies.