The Blooming Bush

I walked out front this morning and sat in my rocker on the porch to gaze at the lake and let Auggie run and do his morning business. Than I saw it. The rose bush. This bush was given to me by a family member to console me. When I planted it, I wasn't very hopeful. I have tons of sand out front and the bush looked a little weary. The bush bloomed this morning. Pale yellow and orange roses. Two roses on my little bush. I stared at the roses, smiled and brought my dog and coffee inside. Peace springs forth from some of the most unexpected places.

Time moves along

I have learned a new life lesson. Life must continue through death, as painful as it is. Baggy Pants went to switch his MD driving permit to his Ga one. He is grieving terribly. He always comes in my room, which I must admit is a pretty cool room, when I come home from work, kisses my cheek and we sit on my bed and eat together and talk for a few. I am learning that everyone mourns differently. Except my mother. She suffers from mental illness. I am aware of this and so is J and we just deal with her the best we can. She shares this house with me. She has always been a hypochondriac. I detect jealousy. She is 65, alone and friendless. Just the facts folks. It is a situation she has created. All I ask from the people I live with is to respect my privacy and space, especially now. She is already trying to marry me off. I find that offensive, but I tell myself, "She is a fruit loop" and just ignore those comments. I believe stress can cause internal sickness. I do what I can to eliminate stress. Work is my outlet. So my goal now is to focus on my youngest and help make him the man that my father and Kenny helped shape. My eldest, the recovering addict, is flying up to Baltimore to get his girlfriend. That was his downfall last time. I have been through his bullshit before so we shall see. He still wears the blinders of youth. That feeling of being invincible. He is not welcome in my home unless he is clean. J would love to see his older brother, and doesn't judge him. All he ever asked from his brother is that if he did come by our old house to please not shoot dope so openely. He said this is our home and give us that respect. I pray daily for Jason that he doesn't wind back up on I-95 panhandling his way back down south. My home is about peace and quiet and serentiy. I must protect that for my sanity and my son and yeah, even nutty mom. Active addicts wreak havoc and leave a trail of disaster behind them. I can no longer handle the bullshit. So that is where I am at today. Working full time, being miserly with my money as you don't get widow's benefits till you are 60. I am now the sole provider for my son and I. I sent out thank you cards to many people in the community who offered so much Southern Hospitality. My main thank you was to the EMT's who worked so hard to save a dying man. I was treated with so much dignity and respect, which never would have happened in Baltimore. I will not hold my youngest son hostage, but I will help him make a game plan that can help him accomplish his goals. He is smart enough to understand he has to take things in steps to get where he wants to be in his future. That is where I stand as of today. The sun is rising and the dog is giving me that look, "Let's go walk". That animal has honestly been my best source of comfort. We talk, he listens, and he in my heart understands. With every lick on my cheek, to the doggie smile I see when he is happy that is a wonderful source of comfort. Time to get ready for the weekend work grind. Be blessed, be happy and behave...

Peace..Susan

Back to work, back to life

It felt wonderful to punch back in last night. My co-workers were kind and gentle but not overwhelming. The perfect balance. Church went well, it is still standing. I, yes me, got invited to a proper southern ladies luncheon on Thursday. God, the ironies of life. I will go. I have realized that life is about all kinds of experiences. This one will be a tad, ahem, different for me, but just like I have sampled all kinds of flavors of food and wines, (and many other substances) so shall I sample all kinds of people and beliefs. I believe the people you encounter in your daily living, keep shaping the mold of who you are as a human being. I am learning humility right now. So if someone is good enough to invite me to their home with their friends, who am I to say no? I do alot of food comparisons, due to years of restaurant work and being married to a chef for so long. I want to savor every flavor, let my palate grow to taste new delicacies. The years of urban blight left some bitterness on my tongue, so now maybe I can sweeten it with some southern comfort, no, not the liquor. Just like a man who walks and that walk has made him the man he is today, and given him the life experience to have the words to write, I, too, want to stick my fingers in all the stews of life and lick each one, to get the full taste. I am praying to God that there is not going to be liver served as that is one flavor this girl has never acquired a taste for. I am rooting for some good old peach cobbler. Some things change, and some don't. I love you all.

Grace

Today I must put on my proper black dress and set foot in our local church. I am a tad nervous, but I know that I must go. I was provided comfort by "strangers" and a relentless, lol, pastor. So the inlaws and our boys are going to be at steps out front of the big white building with the cross on top at 10am. If you hear thunderbolts coming from the sky don't panic. It is just me setting foot in church for the first time in quite a few years. This time my son is leading me. He has always gone to church. A personal choice he made on his own. I believe during the addict years, J took comfort in the Bible and lived on faith, since he was about 9. He would always sleep with a small bible underneath his pillow. I am a very spiritual person, I just am rather private. God and I talk quite a bit, all the time. Baggy Pants lectured me that God wants me to commune with other like minded people. So dammit, off I go to commune. Also to show my appreciation at the concern and compassion my family was shown. This never would have happened in Baltimore. I am secretly hoping this is what Jesse aka Baggy Pants needs to maybe start feeling at home. I told him God steps out of Baltimore to visit Georgia too. You know, the "God is everywhere" speech. I also have a youth pastor waiting in the wings to talk to my boy. Jess will have no clue that I have anything to do with this one. Yeah, I am a sneaky mom. Jesse does better when he feels he makes his own decisions. All year he went to church two times a day on Sunday in Baltimore. He went with the cook at our restaurant we were working at, on his own. Since Georgia, nothing. So this visit is to show my respect for a wonderful community, and to hopefully get my son to give this little town a chance. His older brother jsut got clean and sober, got out of rehab, got on a Greyhound bus and is now in Florida selling steaks door to door. He is using that dope hustle ability for the good now. Jason called me the night before he boarded the bus and said "Mom, I am clean now, on a mood stabalizer and if I stay in Baltimore I won't have a chance"..He knows I understand better than anyone. I said "Godspeed my son"..So far so good. So amidst the pain, there has been some healing. They always seem to go hand in hand. Many of you will be in my prayers today in that big white building. Peace....

Cleaning out my closet...

Yup, that is an Eminem song, but if the shoe fits...As I go through belongings and items, I find treasures. Some odd, some silly, but all personal. I made my son a box and filled it with mementos that Jesse understood and will love. He also is awaiting his flag from the VA. I am not thrilled with the VA healthcare system, but I do want Jesse to get his flag. He was good to Jesse. Raised the boy as his own since he was 4 months old. Throughout our ups and downs and sideways, he was always there for Jesse. My main focus is my son, to help him heal. He lost his two male rocks since '05. My father and now, his. We are making an appearance in church this Sunday. Jesse, baggy pants and all, is a very spiritual kid. His recreational reading has always been the Bible. That was his choice, never forced. Jesse I think has always felt the need to believe since he was little. Trust me, there were some bleak times, and I am positive that faith sustained him. That boy is my heart. So we are going to reciprocate for all the kindness the local church has shown my son and I, and go. Ironically that is the only spark of interest he has had since stepping foot in Georgia. He loves Baltimore. I had to beg and plead to get him to come with me. He thinks the house is nice, the lake beautiful, but it is so rural, and he experienced culture shock. So I am hoping by going to church Sunday that will help his grieving. When in Rome....or the Bible Belt...yes, my sense of humor is returning. That part feels good. I laugh, cry, whatever I feel like. It's my right to be slightly insane at times. Thank everyone so much who reads and stops by my little corner of the blogging world. Writing these words for the last year or so has been my relief. Reading the words of others lets me know that I am not alone in certain opinions and that the daily struggle of life is shared by all of us. *Note*...I donated all the medical supplies I had to the local medical supply company in town. They helped me when the VA failed. I called and they got to my house in 10 minutes. Do you know that those cases of food that you feed someone in their stomach cost about $48 a case. Medicaid only pays for two cases a month!!. A person goes through about a case every 4 days. I just had tons of stuff. They were so appreciative and told me that it would be given to all the people without insurance, which are numerous. So please everyone take your vitamins and supplements diligently. Being sick is expensive and that Medicaid they deduct from you SSI check, doesn't begin to cover what you really need. I had about $600 worth of stuff and giving that stuff to people who I know are in desperate need of supplies was a huge feeling of peace and relief. Be well and STAY HEALTHY....

R.I.P. KENNETH LEE RICKELS

The suffering ended this morning. 09/29/1957-06/01/2009 He is now in God's embrace.

Here's some food for thought...

What if you got sick? What if it came down to you making a choice? This is the choice I am speaking (writing of). If you got too sick to do radiation and you tumor in your throat was getting bigger, would you take a chance on a larengectomy (sp), knowing that you will never eat food again? You will also never be able to speak with your own voice again. You will have an electronic voice. Think about never being able to eat a nice greasy sub with ff again. Bacon and eggs. Just cans of food being fed through your stomach. The plus side? You will be well. The cancer will be gone. You would be able to walk your dog. You will get your strength back. Is that an option you would consider. This person is saying no. They have a love of food. I just don't think they will be able to start radiation until this MRSA infection is gone, which can take up to 10 more days. The weight is dropping steadily. I am watching someone I love suffer tremedously. The tumor is right below the epoglottis and above the esophagus. Not a great place. The bottom line. Would you want to live if you could never eat again?