It’s all in a name

Ah…the good ol’ summertime.

A time for beaches and bicycles and picnics and bbqs and vacations and staycations and more likely than not… family.

Whether you’re a nut from a towering oak, have a touch of sweetness like the magnificent sugar maple, are tart and tangy like the bounty that falls from the fruit trees, or run more to the quiet strength of the whispering pine…we are all branches of our family trees.

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As it will, nature steps in to prune our branches. Our leaves fall through the natural process of age and death, or in times of storm and disease, we sadly lose precious limbs way before their time.

Nature will…have its way.

But because our roots are so deep, we continue on…new saplings sprout from new seeds and new blood.
Often, we are stronger and more resilient for it. Having richer hues and sweeter fruit.

Or, as is common enough in my family to be the rule and not the exception, (leaves fall too close or too far, whichever the case may be) we end up with nuttier nuts and fruitier fruits.

Which leads me to:

“The Family Reunion”

For the good folk up here in the extreme north, the best thing to be said about summer is …NO SHOVELING!
Next to that…there is reunion season, which in my case, consists of the following:

Mother’s Mother’s side
Mother’s Father’s side
Two distinct and unique trunks of my maternal grandparent’s tree.
Let’s say it’s where the Spruce meets the Elm.

Now, the Spruce and the Elm don’t share the same patch of ground. Perhaps because the Spruce is pretty rigid and doesn’t change much, and the Elm, while close when push comes to shove, has a history of infection and being hard to find (much loved all the same).
But…two distinct and separate genus with two distinct and separate reunions.

Which brings me to the other half of my tree:

Father’s Mother’s side
Father’s Father’s side
Or, as is our case…
ONE trunk for my paternal grandparent’s tree
(It’s a damned big tree!)

This is where the mighty Oak meets the Sugar Maple and rather than remaining as such…they became a whole new tree.

The Maple Nut Tree (Don’t Google it…no sucha thang)

Here’s the roots…
The George boys had a thing for the Smith girls…
Brothers marrying sisters…
(No, not their own sisters…we may be hilly people, but we don’t all play the banjo!)

Anyway…because more than one George married more than one Smith, the reunions are Smith/George amalgamations rather than just Smith or just George.
We even have Smiths who married other Smiths and those Smiths married Morrisons who in turn married other Morrisons…

EEE GAD, it’s enough to make you dizzy!

Anyway, the reason I started this, besides having just attended above mentioned gathering of Maple Nuts, is to do with names.
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It really is about names.
But not just any names.
Old names.

One would think, with sir names like Smith and George, the given names would be rather vanilla, wouldn’t you?
Tom, Dick, and Harry kind of names. But no.
And it just tickles the shit out of me to sit around listening to the older folk talk about their parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles, bandying around some names not heard 100 years from here.

Kids my age, and those after, hear these names and think
“What the hell were they thinking?”
But I disagree. I think there is something strong, and connective in these old names.
It speaks of family more than the color of our eyes or the shape of our nose.
Names that are passed down in an obvious attempt to keep a loved one alive are beautiful names.

Shall I?
Okay, I shall.
Just a tiny sample.
Promise.

Great Grandfather Smith (ok…the next part is a sing along)

M.U.R.D.O. M.U.R.D.O. M.U.R.D.O. and M U R D O was his nameo!

Now, farmer Murdo Angus Smith married the lovely Rose La Brecque. They had 11 children (that’s Family #1).

Norman George, Mary Ethel, Eva Maude, Christie Rose, Margaret Leona, Clara Esther, Gladys Irene, Pauline Mae, Paul Angus, Walter Robert, and Baby Girl.

These names that don’t quite rrrrrrrrrrrroll off the tongue like names do today, but, it was all about continuity.

The lovely Rose died at the tender age of 36 (she needed a rest I think), whereby farmer Murdo married Marion who had another 5 children (that’s Family #2).

Murdo Harold, Joyce Ann, Fred Donald, Gerald Lloyd, and Virginia Maggie.

Again, these names don’t effortlessly fall off the tongue, but suggest a ‘reason’ behind them.
Nothing trendy here.

Great Grandfather George
Elmer Eugene George
(The only other Elmer I know lives in Cartoonland!)
Now, Elmer married Sophi (pronounced so-feye) Laundry and they had two sons
Raleigh Royal Eugene George and Morton Guy George
(So much packed into two little boys right? Oh, and a side note on Sophi~she had sisters…Mary, Maude, and Mert. LOL. Great huh?)

Both these George boys married Smith sisters:

Raleigh Royal Eugene George married Mary Ethel Smith (my grandparents) and had two children
Roy Eugene and Betty Rose

Morton Guy George married Christie Rose and had four children
Stanley Morton, Philip Dale, Beverly Ruth, and Harvey Elmer

Sadly, after my parents’ generation, the names became more normal(?)
Gone are the Murdos, Elmers, Mortons, and Raleighs.
No more Claras, Maudes, and Gladyses (Gladi?)

I’m as guilty as the next gal. I named my kids rather trendy names, but I think if I’d spent more time sitting under that big ol’ Maple Nut tree, I’d have found the courage to be different in the pride I feel when I’m sitting in that big pile of leaves.

Had that been the case, perhaps I would be the proud mother of Raleigh Murdo Elmer Roy?
Or if I’d had a girl…Mary Clara Maggie Rose?
Perhaps…

And the groaning you hear in the background is my husband who has NO room to talk…he is the son of ELBO.
But THAT is another mango tree altogether!

I hope you’re enjoying the summer, and hoping too, that you’re gathering round the base of your own magnificent family trees. There’s nothing quite like it.

And for those nuts that are part of my Maple Nut Tree…here’s a reminder of the beautiful day spent reminiscing about the old times and creating new ones. (Thanks Debbie and Henry)

-Click on a circle to bring up the full size photos-


The whole gang

The Eye of the Human Storm

Today’s forecast
Pain with a chance of happiness
Life
It hurts
Our first breath
Born in and out of
Pain
Our last breath
Born in and out of the fear of
Death
Beginning to end
The human struggle to keep moving
Beyond the current pain so we may
Endure the next
To begin again
The circle, the cycle
Of life, of pain
To reach our destination
Death
So
What is the point?
When one ends where one begins?
What is the point?
The middle
Is the point
To feel the heart beat
Of a lover
To hear the laughter
Of a child
To know the touch of another
The touch that completes
Our circle
Ones who will rejoice with us
And for us
And those who will mourn us
But more
Remember
That we were here
That we mattered
That we made the difference
That we closed a part of their own circle
And that they too
Closed a part of ours
To gather
At the end of the day
To hear the sounds of silence
The human sounds
We make without knowing
The sounds of love
And life
The middle
Those sounds our ears miss,
But that our hearts hear
These are the sounds of silence
So loud we are compelled to
Listen
Struggle to keep moving
From one pain to another
For in the end
It is not the pain
We Remember
It is
Love
Our circles have no true beginning
They meld
With our ending
We only have what is in
The middle
Today’s forecast
Pain with a chance of happiness
Take an umbrella if you must
Wear your raincoat
Wear galoshes if you have to
But
Prepare more for getting swept
Into the middle
‘Cause that’s where life happens
In the middle
Never be afraid to get wet
So
Put the fear aside
Go beyond the tropical storm of prologue
Fear not the hurricane of the epilogue
Walk into the wind
Get pummeled by the rain
Get to the eye
The middle
Where the calm allows us to hear
The human sounds of silence

The sounds of Love

For My Father

My First Love ~ My Only Hero

R.I.P. Superman

Part II – Opening a Window

today she wakes
and looks in the mirror
again
she notices first
that she is not alone
there, in the reflected layers of her life
a reunion of all who have walked with her
loved with her
laughed and cried with her
survived with her
leaving pieces of their own hearts, like beacons
along the path she now travels
softly focused, each smile touches her soul
some, instantly recognizable
familiar and loved faces of those who have made a difference in her life
how could she have forgotten?
others are strangers, unknown and unmet
but she hears them whisper…
you have made a difference in ours
how could she have known?
so many
she never realized
the power of one
but she feels its truth in the swelling of her heart

she feels him there
she doesn’t have to seek him out
in every layer, his is the brightest light
drawing her back through each layer
back and back and back to their beginning
he shows her and whispers to her heart…
“this is how you’ll always be to me; this is how I’ll always be to you”
he takes her hand and moves forward
she sees the evolution of their lives
the birth of their greatest joy
great gains and greater losses
buds of youth giving way to blossoms of senescence
destined to fall from the tree of life
as all things must
closer and closer and closer
to this moment of here and now
he shows her and whispers to her heart…
“I am and always will be”
“You are and have always been”
“Nothing else matters”
“Nothing will ever change that”

she turns, eyes bright with unshed tears
she sees
lines deep beside her smiling mouth
she knows
love’s power surging through her veins
she feels
whole

then…
she opens the window

Part I – Knocking on the Door

today she wakes
and looks in the mirror
again
she notices first
the remnants of last night’s all too familiar routine
fully clothed still
with bruise colored footprints left where mascara met shadow
during the waltz of silent tears
evident again in the echo of wine and spit
that mixed and mingled in the dark
leaving traces of their orgy in the corners of her mouth
she raises a limb as heavy as any redwood branch
to touch the nest of bad dreams atop her head
she stares blankly at the woman before her
youth still lives here, but it wears an old coat
to look at the ghost of auburn that was once a crown
a flaming glory that framed her naturally pretty face
is now to look at a reminder
of yet another step further from who she was
another step closer to who she is becoming
where once there was silk and cream
her face is now but a road map
to anywhere but where she wants to be
no distinction can she find
between the sleep weary blouse
and those roads leading everywhere but back
she draws breath and holds it while she raises her gaze
could those eyes really be hers?
the once vivid seas of blue now faded and dull
surrounded by tributaries of red
brooks and streams of guilt, anguish, worry, pain, and sorrow
clouding the windows to her soul
where once there shined such joy and true passion
eyes that burned so bright, they lit the path to his heart
like no man made torch ever could
but
her passion lies miles away
alone, crooked, and silent
his windows too
mostly cloudy with a slight chance of sun
a chance she lives for
but the light thief will return
and she won’t be ready, can never be ready
for that one moment the thief becomes a murderer
the villain of darkness called dementia
her love waits, unknowingly, for that day
she waits with him, but she knows he’s coming
and it’s killing her

part II – Opening a Window

‘Tis the Season

And so it begins

The Season

Visitors

Week Long

Visitors

Mother-In-Law plus 1

Visitors

Oh Goody

32 years as a Daughter-In-Law

10 years of hoping

(I’d disappear?)

Almost…(Once)

But not quite

Another 21 of tolerating me

1 year of resignation

What next?

Will I finally pass muster?

This week may tell

I leave you with this…

bunny hell easter

Just kidding

In all fairness, it’s more like this…

reefer mad

Oh alright, it’s not THAT bad

They are just house guests after all

Right?

What’s the worst that could happen?

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Oh

See ya next week

Maybe

ps) Kat…hope you don’t mind my stealing two of your gifs

pss) B…if you still read this blog, laugh now.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

Now, I hope you all know me enough by now to know that I am picking fun here.  My Mother-In-Law is a strong, intelligent, sensitive woman and we get along famously.  It just took us some time to find our own relationship, as it did my husband and his Mother-In-Law.  There is love and there is respect and that is all there needs to be.

It’s important to let the seeds of this relationship grow naturally, organically, outside that of the child/spouse connection.

There is nothing in the rules of marriage handbook (and I’m sure there is one out there, somewhere) that says you have to love or even be friends with your spouse’s mother.

It helps, but it’s also okay if not.

(I don’t know why, but Fathers-In-Law relationships do NOT have the same dynamic)

Love doesn’t happen just because she birthed your spouse nor for the fact that you happened to choose her child as a life mate.

That just opens the door.  To be welcomed in and invited to take up space in their hearts, you must be worthy in your own right.

If there’s any hope for a relationship, there has to be respect.  On both sides.  And, because you’ve both earned it.

Respect is one of those things we each feel we deserve.

Just because.

Not so.

As with any relationship in life, whether personal or professional, we can respect the title/position, but the person in it, must earn it.

Also, as we cannot choose our blood relations, we do our best to love them because of our common link, but we often find ourselves in the position of not respecting them for various reasons.

Love but don’t respect – common in relationships to those we are born into.

But for those to whom we have no connection other than by proxy via our spouse, if we do not/cannot develop a familial love, we can at the least hope to develop a relationship based on mutual respect.

If not (especially if your spouse is close to your In-Law) then personally, I’d say your marriage has a boot on its neck.

Especially evident when you and your spouse have kids of your own…

Becoming a Mother-In-Law can be daunting if the relationship with the new son/daughter lacks respect as well as the love connection.

Could you imagine becoming a grandparent to the little seed of your precious apple in a relationship fraught with tension and stress because either you or your In-Law or your spouse were always on the defensive?

Nahhhh…that’s for the birds and a bit like cutting off your limb to spite your trunk, if you know what I mean.

So, this Mother’s Day, it is with high hopes that all the wives and husbands who share porch space with me here, boast a happy, healthy, loving relationship with your respective Mothers-In-Law.  If not, I sincerely hope you share one of mutual respect.

If not yet, work on it.  It’ll make all the difference in the world…to ALL of you.

If you’re a newbie, or a work in progress, keep at it.

The door opened the day you got married…it’s up to you to be welcomed inside.

Conversely…to all the Mothers-In-Law out there still struggling with the addition to the family…

It is with respect I say this…

“They are married.

You didn’t lose one, you gained one.

You did your job, now enjoy the fruits of your labor while they make fruits of their own.

Resist when you’re not asked.

Be there when you are.

And if you can’t…try harder.

Should you choose the right road, and it IS a choice, you’ll end up smack-dab in the middle of the intersection of Love Lane and Respect Avenue.

 HAPPY♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥MOTHER’S♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥DAY

Mom and Bertha

I love you

 

One Day

By dinner time tomorrow, our soggy, box-full, furniture-empty, house will feel like home despite it all.

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He leaves the deep freeze on the shores of the Arctic Ocean tonight and will arrive on the unusually frozen southern shores of the Atlantic tomorrow.  Knowing he had not planned on bringing his arctic gear, an emergency phone call took care of that.  True winter in the lower 48 awaits his arrival.  He doesn’t mind though, winter is kind of his thing…

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We’ve not seen him for over a year, Christmas 2012 to be exact. So much has happened in his life and ours since then, I’m not sure his two weeks will be enough time to sort it all out.  And sort it out we must, for as much excitement as there is in his return, it wears the shroud of sadness that only a broken heart wears.

You see, he fell in love with a dog, who owned the girl, that stole our son’s heart…

tandum

He chose the ring for the knot that means a great deal to her and announced to the world “SHE SAID YES!” on July 20th…

the ring

She chose the dress in the color that says “I am not afraid as I face the world with the man I love

the dress

They chose the date, Friday, February 13, 2015, to tell the world “We have no fear of your superstitions, we’ll face it together

They spent every spare moment they had together, traveling the land they both love so much…

matts land

One of the hardest things to witness is the breaking of your child’s heart.  Whether 2 or 25, the heart cares not the why or the how, only that it’s a pain unlike any other.

The life plan has changed. The love won, now lost. “She said yes!” echoes hollowly in the darkness following “I’ve changed my mind, I don’t want to be with anyone”

As his mother, I grieve for his tender heart and shattered dreams.

As his mother I silently thank the girl for knowing this truth now and being brave enough to say so.

As his mother, I weep for and with him, longing to make it better, but knowing I can offer nothing but a safe place for him to cry.

So, it’s time for this boy, this man, our Matthew, to come home to slide into the open arms of his Dad and me; the only place he can let it all go.

The place where the man can again be the boy who needs what only his family can give him…a safe place to grieve, a hearth to warm the bone deep chill of lost love, and the touch of those that know the truest nature of him…love.  He shines with it and has since he was born.

He will find The One.

Someday.

One who will see him for who he is, and love him completely for it.

We know this.

He will too.

One Day.

Until then, we’ll do what we have always done…love him, guide him beyond his feeling foolish for having loved “too much”.  With the gentlest of reminders that no love is ever foolish or ever wasted or ever “too much”. That to deny the best part of himself for fear of being hurt this way again, would be to deny the very air he breathes.

He won’t.  He can’t.  It’s not in him.

As his mother, this I know.

Welcome Home Matthew…where the heart is

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Celebrate Something…Always

Like a dead tree teaming with life…

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Or a giant symbol of freedom, waving as we go by…

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How about being a little hombre, knowing you’re safe because big brother will always be behind you…

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Even taking your first tractor ride when you don’t want to…

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Whatever it is

and

Wherever you are

Cherish it

Remember it

Celebrate it

Life’s too short for anything less

Five and Twenty

Five & Twenty years today

What seems like only yesterday

You made our family whole that day

Baby Matthew

Second born & second son

But unique you are, second to none

Matthew the Light

You favor both your Dad and Me

Your brother? Lord, you two are like peas

Gramp? Ha, have you seen your ears?

With lobes like that you could fly, I fear

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Your nose though, even I must admit

Raised an eyebrow or two (whose nose is it?)

Not Dad’s, nor mine, and not your brother’s

Not Father’s Grand nor Grand Mother’s

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But we’ll leave the nose, we’ll just call it yours

‘Cause it fits that face we so adore

To celebrate this special day at hand

Our babe, our boy, our teen, our young man

Matthew

You’ve made our lives rich with love and laughter

We share your hopes, the dreams you’re after

You were just a boy when you left and began

The next leg of your journey toward becoming a man

Matt at the North Pole

But you found your life, your love – your way

Thousands and thousands of miles away

It’s never easy to watch your kids go

When you are a father, this too you will know

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But we couldn’t be more proud of you, our dear son

For the courage you’ve shown, the battles you’ve won

You’ve proven your mettle, your strength, your grit

You did it alone (mostly?) (a bit?)

Matt in anchorage

As you keep moving forward, new challenges will come

But our faith in you grows with each passing sun

Though, an old soul you have, there is plenty of time

To live for the moment, those moments sublime

Matt at Alyeska

We know you do and you always will

Without taking for granted the glorious thrill

That life has to offer to you who are willing

To live what they feel, and feel life fulfilling

Promises? Never. You’ll learn as you go

That heartache and pain are a part of the show

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Our best wish for you is to live ‘no regrets’

The more fully lived, the better life gets

We know the depths of compassion you hold

Your empathy, compassion, and emotions are bold

Matt at Portage Glacier

This day of your birth, this twenty and five

Is as miraculous now as the day you arrived

We love you dear Matthew, with all that we’ve got

(Your present’s in the mail…oops…I forgot)

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Sorry honey
Didn’t anyone ever tell you?
25 is the Poetry year
We Love you 😉

A Day Out with Superman and Lois – Part II

For some New England states, the lack of development makes for an inconvenient truth…there is a high price for beauty. Of all the states that make up New England, Vermont pays a higher price for its pristine vistas and unspoiled landscapes, than do the others. That’s not a scientific fact, but as one who has lived and/or worked in all of them, I feel confident in my opinion.

Seasonal tourism has become the bread and butter of a state (formerly?) known as The Dairy State. However, that said, it’s still not enough to make up for what this state has lost, what it once was, and still pay for what this state now is…an entitlement state with a tax bill to prove it.

You couldn’t drive a mile without passing a flourishing dairy farm; their rich pastures dotted with the familiar black and white of the Holstein, just to name one of the breeds that carved cow paths through much of the landscape of its history.

Nearly every generation of my family, leading up to but excluding mine, was raised or worked on, a family dairy farm.

The sights we see today, or in our case, the sights Supe and I captured yesterday, are now the norm.

Neglect may come to mind…but it goes much deeper.

Neglect suggests a choice.

Being a farmer is a choice.

Losing a farm is not.

And this doesn’t just happen here, it happens all over our country. But here is where I live, and here is where I love, and here is where I weep, for the loss of the American dream, one field, one barn, one beautiful bovine at a time.

I’m glad this day of Reflection with Supe resulted in the following photographs, for amid the not so subtle colors that draw the throngs of leaf-peepers, there are also signs of the times.

And please, don’t get me wrong, not all the photos of yesterday are sad reminders.  Some are of the wondrous sites that bring these people from thousands of miles away.  The commentary only addresses those photos that evoke a sense of loss for days gone, livelihoods lost, to government’s well intended (?) intervention.

These signs are everywhere.

And knowing his roots as a farm boy, I also know it’s never easy for him to see what is an all too common sight today.

I wanted him to know that I see what once was when I point my camera in the direction of a falling down ruin of a barn, or the overgrown and gone to seed fields that once produced food for the masses, four-legged and two-legged alike.

I wanted him to understand that the photos I take are not just a sad reminder of the times. Nor are they just a snapshot of the foreseeable future.

They are, for me and I hope for him, as much a tribute to the rich history and grass roots past that he cherishes and I’ll never let die.

I wanted him to come away from our day of Reflection knowing I see and feel, the depth of what’s lost and that I’ll never take life, or family values, for granted.

So, here, Part II of A Day Out with Superman and Lois:

The High Price of Low Progress
~♥~
For Dad
~♥~

(and for you Dad, we’ll start with some to make you smile)

See? You are smiling right? :)
See?
You are smiling right?
🙂

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I’ll end with a Patch
A Pumpkin Patch
Pick one…it’s YOURS!

How To Dismantle a Life

Leave a 3 decades long marriage to the only person who ever knew everything about you, but forgot you were there while he got on with his life

Meet and fall in love with another, heart first, sight unseen, and for whom there was no question that he was my future and I his

Make plans together for that future

Share every detail of yourselves and your lives with each other

Become THAT vulnerable

Learn too late that you love too much, yet are not enough at the same time, and figuratively get left at the altar

Wonder why you are not worth loving, while you fall apart, feeling in your heart, it must be true…for the old one forgot you and the new one didn’t want you

However, be asked to return to that 3 decades long marriage to that one person who knew all along you didn’t belong anywhere but with him, no questions asked

Spend months trying to come to terms with being tossed out of one heart and not understanding why

And allowed back into another and not quite trusting why, but feeling grateful and wondering if that feeling is justified

Working to keep a friendship alive while the question still burns “where did the future go when I wasn’t looking?”

Working to keep a marriage honest and true, yet at the same time, struggle with the two questions “how can he still and how come he can’t” love me?

Helping a husband find a new path in life

And willingly so

While feeling the ghost of pain as the other follows another without you

Unwillingly so

Clearing your life of all material possessions because it’s all become too much

Watching your life put into boxes and carted off like box lots to auction

Standing in an empty shell that once held a family’s heart

Heading into the unknown in the second half century of your life with nothing more than you started with

Wondering if you’re strong enough to handle starting over

With the old love

Without the new one

And not sure you deserve either

And through it all, come to grips with your own past and its demons

Shedding light on a life spent in the dark in the most public way possible

Light that will hurt and help you…as it hurts and, you pray and hope, will help others more

Light that allows you to be okay with the similarities/contradictions of love and hate

But still leaves questions, burning questions, about whether you are doing the right thing

And needing

Always needing

That and whom, which does not want to be needed

No one wants the burden of constant reassurance

No one has the responsibility of convincing me I’m worthy

No one deserves the mantle of “someone to watch over me”

I’m a lot of work

And the only one up to the job

Equipped for the job

The job of re-assembling my life

Is ME

I’m sorry if these words or these thoughts spoken out loud hurt anyone

That is not the intent

As it is when assembling anything

We must first lay all the pieces out on the table

Take inventory

And (if female) read the instructions

I’ve found the instructions of my life are complicated, often in a foreign language, and perhaps even missing a step or two

But I’ll stick with it

Trial and error

Use my Yankee Ingenuity if I have to

So that in the end, I’ll be reconstructed, reassembled, or re-purposed…

Whichever it is…it’ll be me.

And it’ll be great

We must first break it down to build it up

Let the rebuilding begin

NO

Let the rebuilding continue…for this journey didn’t start today or yesterday

It started November 3rd Nineteen Hundred and Sixty

A long project…a lifelong project…with a punch-list of changes ten miles long

A worthy one?

You bet!

Did I ever mention “I had a hammer?”