I'm trying

She said I'm not pointing fingers
He said yes you are
'Cause you wouldn't bring it up if you weren't
If I told you I'd been walking
Out in the dark night thinking
Would you take as truth this alcoholic's word
I can't change what's done is done
But I can tell you this
Not a day goes by that I
Don't curse myself and all my sins
And I need you to hold on to
While this part of me is dying
And though I haven't kicked the demons
That haunt me
I'm Trying
I'm Trying
~Diamond Rio

This song is poignant for me. In the middle of the devastation of our marriage in 2000, I heard this song on a CD we had. This song wasn't released by the country group as a single, so unless you listen to the album, you wouldn't hear the song. It was an accident....or maybe just fate. When I heard it for the first time, I broke down, and through my tears, I prayed that this would be us. It had to be us. We had to be able to move through this awful gut-wrenching hole in our marriage, and come out on the other side whole.

And so I thought, by moving away from Las Vegas in 2001, and through a lot of pain, anger, frustration, and then ultimately peace, we'd finally found the marriage I think we both wanted and needed.

It would seem that even though I walked through my life, I wasn't paying attention to my life. Maybe I was too trusting or simply way too optimistic that he had "changed" as he said he had.

We laughed again, smile at each other, held hands, and dreamed and planned together. I looked at him once again with the admiration of someone who had just fallen in love. We were on the right track. We were "us" again. In May 2010, we renewed our wedding vows in front of our friends and family, and for me, it was more meaningful that when we were marriage 12 years earlier. It was perfect.

It didn't take long to realize, we were FAR from perfect. When had it gone wrong? Or maybe it was all just an illusion, and I was living in this blissful fog all alone. For my husband had never really changed his behavior, just changed the "how and who" of his cheating world.

And yet, even learning that we had been living a lie, I stayed. The jury is still out as to why. Financial security, the fact we'd just moved back to Las Vegas, or simply because at the end of the day, I (even though I know I shouldn't) love this man. When faced with an ultimatum, he chose to give me lip service and say he would get therapy. That lasted several months until the day I wised up and did some checking.

Yup, there it was in black and white. He was a liar and a cheat. Always had been, and had never changed one iota of his bad behavior. What was wrong with him? Did he not know the consequences? He had to.

On April 8, 2011 I liberated myself. I didn't give him wishy-washing choices. He had two, and even at best, neither were a guarantee. Get help or I'm out of here. Period.

He chose help. I'm proud of him. Even as he'd walk out the door for his therapy sessions, I wasn't sure I'd stay. Even after I told him in the presence of his therapist that I "choose to stay," was I sure I'd stay. I just knew that at that moment, he needed a friend and support system. At the very least, I could do that for him. After all, this was a behavior he didn't have much control over, and had just been told he was an addict. It was a harsh reality for him, but nonetheless, one that he accepted.

That was six months ago. A lot has happened in that time. He lost his job, I quite my job, he got his old job back in WA, and here we are living in Puyallup. A lot of physical changes as well as mental.

I'm proud of Walter and the hard road he chose to save himself and our marriage. I found myself thinking about this song the other day when something triggered an old feeling of dread and insecurity. His work phone. The very source of my pain, mistrust, fear and loathing. Right there. God how I wanted to throw it against the wall. The words to the "I'm Trying" song came to mind as I know that he's not cheating with anyone via that phone as he had in the past. I think at this point, he knows better. I can't say I'm positive about it, but I'm relatively confident he is being honest. That's when the song came to mind. Just because he has it, doesn't mean he's using it for non-work activities. But do I believe him, really? Nope, I don't.

I forgive him, but I don't trust him. I may never trust him again. Is a marriage safe is there is mistrust from one partner? Is it fair to live this way? I wish I had the answers. But one thing I do know is this. He's trying. I mean enough to him that he's willing to endure my moments of anger and mistrust. He doesn't deserve for me to judge him, yet I have. As his wife, I should forgive and move on. Recently I did a transcript for work and the sermon was on 1 Corinthians Chapter 13. You know the one....Love is patient, love is kind...

Those were words that were said at our wedding, but I never REALLY read them or heard them. Not until this week. I learned one preacher's interpretation, and it made sense to me. Its not just for love of a spouse, but love of people in your life. Love forgives, and love believes. Love endures. For all the times I sat and wondered how the hell I could put up with this crap from him and by accident I got the answer.

Love. It's really that simple. I love him and when you love someone, God has a hand in it. It's not an accident. I love my husband and while I have certainly put up with a lot, I've also received the most precious gift God has given to us. Love. His love which is pure and unconditional. We are meant to spread that love, cherish and nurture it.....and believe in it. It's what I've done.

I'm trying...everyday. Trying to remember my purpose in this marriage and count the million little blessings it has given to me. The song is so true, and if whoever is reading...well, find the entire song and read it. It's my life and my life with an addict. (his addiction was to sex) Trying is all we can do. That's what we're taught. "As long as you try your best..." That's what we're doing.

I close this chapter of my life today. I have made up my mind that even though I cannot forget what he did or trust him the way I once did, I am moving out of this muck and negativity, and embracing God's love for me and the incredible gift it is to love another person unconditionally. Walt is not perfect....oh Lord so far from it. But neither am I. So where we fail, we pick each other up. I don't know what I would do if I found out that he's lying and cheating again....for I must cross that bridge if it comes. But I know that today, October 21, 2011, I am moving forward and away from the period of my life. He'll always be the man who cheated on his wife, but he no longer has to wear it on his chest as some sort of cross to bear. God did that for us so that we can be forgiven for our sins. If God can do that for me, I can do that for the man I love.

If I slip and fall....it's because I'm not perfect. When those feelings of mistrust creep in....I'll need reminding of my words mentioned above. But it is my willingness to move forward....my desire to love purely and defend this love with everything I have.

As I close this chapter, a new one begins. We travel back to Las Vegas to claim our items in storage, and make the move to WA permanent. No going back. This is our life now, and by God, I'm going to live it.

I'm trying....every day. That part of my life has to die so I can live.

Sincerity....

Sincerity....most people possess the capacity to be sincere. Whether it's in a way that might not be the way we want i.e. telling the truth, being honest, telling it like it is.....or the other way that makes us warm and fuzzy.....the more positive approach......I prefer someone who is SINCERE at whatever degree the situation calls for.

I have found that there are people who I "thought" were my friends who, when my back was turned, talked about me behind my back and I found out about it. It's not that what they were sharing was a huge, top-secret thing, but the mere fact that it was between "us" and it was shared. No less with a mutual friend.

Why I ask? Why share something so personal is a mystery to me. I don't do that in spite of the fact people think I do blab all over the place. I don't. I do give my opinon, warranted or not. But I do possess a little bit of tact so I don't just say whatever is on my mind without filtering it.....as I've seen others fail to do.

I'm not cruel or mean.....what I say "may" hurt your feelings but it's the truth (with the needed filtering because I am kind), but I don't expect people to hold back on me either. If you've got something to say, say it. If I can dish it out, I'd better be able to take it.

My list of trustworthy people dwindles almost every day. I'm so disappointed in people who say they are my friend, through thick and thin, and then I find out they've blabbed our business all over the place. Pisses me off....and then they just fall to the bottom of the list or just off the list altogether. It's really not hard to do....just be honest.

It does make me sad. I don't have high expectations of my friends. I accept them for who they are. But don't lie to me....and don't talk about me behind my back. Period. It's easy.

I have to figure out how to deal with this latest disappointment......what should I do?

In my older age I....

In my be~careful here~older age I.....

Am more realistic.
Speak my mind more often.
Enjoy quiet moments.
Take time to appreciate God's beauty.
Wish the gray hairs would disappear.
Have cold feet a lot.
Speak softer during a heated argument
Don't see the world with rose-colored glasses.
Oh yeah....need my glasses.
Am more charitable.
Cry more often at sappy movies and tv shows.
Still scared of the dark.
Try and choose my words carefully.
Work harder than I ever thought I would.
Can save a nickel.
Find myself less tolerant of ignorance and stupidity.
Wish to be a grandmother.
Moisturize like I should have 20 years ago.
Am more flexible with my ideas and dreams.
Am more OCD.
Wish I'd lost the baby weight.
Get to live with my best friend.
Can't hold my alcohol.
Fall asleep in front of the tv.
Enjoy my hobbies more.
Choose my friends carefully.
Trust less.
Love more.
Changed careers.
Swear more.
Apologize for swearing less.
Grieve longer.
Adjust less easy.
Appreciate a beautiful sunset.


Getting older is more fun that I thought it would be......

Why I think people can't handle me....most of the time.

"Remember what Daddy always says - an ounce of pretension is worth a pound of manure! ~Shelby, Steel Magnolias.

I'll admit, I'm a lot to handle. I'm opinionated, loud (at times), outgoing, confident, and friendly. The majority of people I encounter in my life simply cannot handle me. If it's one of the above items or the combination of the whole bunch, people can't seem to understand, that's just me. For the most part, I simply should be taken with a grain of salt.

Yet, that is the path least traveled. While it is always my goal to be taken seriously, I understand that my style or tastes are not other's cup of tea. Hell, isn't that what makes the world go around? Our differences? Why is it that some people fear expressing their differences or to just plain 'ol be themselves?

I don't act like an idiot in public....unless provoked by someone incredibly stupid or rude. I am able to go to a 5 star restaurant, know which fork to use, mind my P's and Q's without so much as a spot on the front of me. I can carry on an intelligent conversation AND even admit when there is something I don't understand or know.

Okay, I do have to take sporting events out of the equation though. Seriously, the sailor, potty mouth, loud woman side of me comes and I can't help it. THIS I inherited from my father, and I refuse to make excuses for it.

But I digress....without including the sporting events, I am a pleasant, proper and easy going lady. What's so hard to deal with that?

Here's my theory. With all of the above, I can be handled. Or deal with.....or even tolerated. But when you add my blunt, I'll-only-tell-you-the-truth, this is how I feel attitude, there in lies the difficulty in handling. People don't want the truth. They don't want to hear when they've hurt your feelings OR pissed you off. They only want the Suzie-Sunshine Becky who smiles and acts as though there isn't a care in the world.

Oh so not happening. So, the circle of those people I call my friends dwindles. It is a high price to pay, but why should I sacrifice my integrity or feelings became "some" people can't handle the truth, or the real me? It's not as though I fly off the handle at nothng. It does take some provoking to get me to go completely "Becky" on you. I do have SOME self control.

There is nothing pretenceous about me. I'm me. Today, tomorrow, next week, and next year. I'm a pretty simple person to figure out. And in return, I choose to handle the same. No, the truth is never easy to swallow when it's negative or it's not exactly what I want to hear. In fact, I have been know to fly off in a rage. But when the dust of my tantrum settles, I have a deep and meaningful respect for the person who cared enough to give it to me....even the ugliness. There's a lot to be said for not sugar-coating everything. The people that do nothing but sprinkle the world with sugar, and this is MY opinion, are afraid of reality, afraid of the truth, or have never truly suffered the deep pain and loss of something they loved. And I'm NOT talking about the lost of a relationship.......although this pain and loss can hurt deeply. I'm talking about your parents, a child, sibling, spouse. Those people closest to you.

I see the world in a real way. (note: read a few blogs down and see my take on reality) In the real world, people disagree, say what they mean and NOT just what people want to hear. I'm a truly devoted friend who will always tell you those jeans make your ass look big, you have a huge lump or hole in your hair in the back of your head....and give you honest and loving thoughts when you share a problem. I ask but the same in return.

However I would be remiss if I didn't mention that being "honest" has a time and place. If a friend was at their lowest point in life, I wouldn't just unload my dump-truck of honesty. I mean, I do have a heart. But at some point, you're going to hear it when you're able. I would never deprive someone of my genuine honesty LOL

Unfortunately for those closest to me, I don't have a "user's guide" or instructions on how to deal and/or handle me. It's kind of just live and learn. But in return for respecting me for being who I am, you get a deeply caring, loving and loyal ME.

It really does even out.....

We've almost come full ciricle

This time last year, we were enjoying the warmth of the desert in mid-October, full of promise, hope and happiness. It's hard to believe when I think back to that time. So much carnage in the months following that happy, hopeful time.

You couldn't have convinced me that we'd come back to the PNW. I'd have told you that was an insane thing to say and laugh. For I was quite sure I was where I was going to be for along time to come, and the thought of returning to the clouds, cold and the rain was an impossible feat.

Yet, here I sit. Looking out the big window of our living room to the gloomy, rainy October day thinking "How the F--- did I wind back here again? This is NOT what I signed up for."

When in actuality, it is exactly what I signed up for, right? I'm married to the breadwinning man of our family, and where he goes, I willingly (albeit kicking and screaming) follow. Getting his solid, secure, well-paying job back was a miracle and I should be grateful. Don't get me wrong reader, I AM grateful. The Lord certainly blessed us with this opportunity, but at the same time, I feel cursed. But nonetheless, it makes me sad.

I absolutely LOVED the daily blue sky, the sun, the wind, and even craziness of life in Las Vegas. I walked around with a cocky-ness of "yeah, I've arrived, what of it?" It was MY town, and I belonged there. It's jus that some cosmic force disagreed with me, and it was never really in the cards for us to stay, live and be happy there.

So as true to my nature, I adapt. I harbor my ill feelings carefully and without voicing them too often. In no way would I want to make Walter feel worse than I know he did about the whole debacle. It's not his fault in the big scheme of things, and it wouldn't be very nice of me to rub it in his face.

At the end of this week, we return to the scene of the crime - no pun intended for those how know part of our history in Vegas - to hook up with Walt's family to celebrate his mother's 80th birthday, and to load up our household stuff and bring it home.

Yes, you heard me right, home. Home isn't where you get your mail or your "stuff" is located. Home is where you feel safe, secure, loved, warm, and comfortable In the two weeks since we moved into this house, I have felt all of those adjectives I stated above. I can't say that the house we lived in down there even accomplished half of adjectives.

Bringing the rest of our stuff, hanging a personal picture and having the things that make it completely our home will certainly catipult us to the level of living we had always hoped we'd achieve in Las Vegas. Yes, we hung pictures, but neither of us really "wanted" to but felt we had to because Sarah was coming to visit. Seriously, it was an effort. We had such hope when we signed the lease down there.....and it didn't take long for it to fizzle, and eventually die.

So we've almost made the full circle....and I am quite confident it isn't just the location of our bodies or stuff...but also in our marriage. Being home means feeling safe and comfortable, and while I still suffer pangs of hurt due to all my husband has put me through, I know that I can rest assured that he's 100% here and everything he knows I need him to be.

A side note: we are making this a mini-vacation, and I am so looking forward to it. As much as I love my doggies, it will be nice to be dog-free, enjoy our time together and with family.

And we'll know......we're heading home....to wear our hearts are meant to be......

Suffering....be gone!!

"People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar." Thich Nhat Hanh
This was a post on Facebook by Russell Simmons. I resonates with me. Clearly I am one of those people who have a hard time of letting go of my suffering.....and it's true.
I don't let go of things easily, but in many circumstances, the situation flares, I burn up, and it's over. I harbor no residual feelings and can move on without looking back. Except this ONE thing.
I'm a forgiving person. My capacity to forgive runs deeply inside my soul. Except for this ONE thing.
At least I thought I was capable of forgiving and moving on. Last year when Walt and I renewed our wedding vows, I truly felt that we'd moved for away from the fearful suspicions I always seemed to have. I no longer questioned him when his phone received a message, or when he was on Facebook or other similar sites.
Again, I'd been lead to believe there was a security living in my world, and I bought it. The whole thing. Until December 8, 2010, I'd believed everything Walter said, and held it as truth.
But I was terribly misguided in my willingness to forgive him and then take the plunge "again." Standing before our friends and family, I AGAIN vowed to love, honor and cherish him. I gave him my complete heart that day in May 2010. It was with my willingness and my truest of love that I made those vows and proved to the world that even through infidelilty and complete aniolation of a marriage, it can be saved.
Until that day in December. That was the day my world crashed so hard around me I never thought the dust would settle. To learn that this man had once again trashed our marriage, lied to me for several years, and acted as though he was rehabilitated sickeded me. I wanted out. I wanted away from him and to never look back. He didn't deserve me.
In his eyes, his infidelity was minor as he hadn't actually had a "physical" affair. With our history, it didn't matter. As far as I was concerned he'd wasted the opportunity not to have a physical affair because it was all the same to me.
That day he promised faithfulnes and asked for forgiveness. I'll be comletely honest here....bear my soul so to speak....I ONLY stayed because I was stuck in Las Vegas, just signed a lease for a house, had only been working at my job a month.....it was self-preservation. But in no uncertain terms.....I was and did check OUT of the marriage emotionally.
And I did. His empty promises really meant little. I harped on the fact he needed therapy, and reminded him every so often he needed to make an appointment. But I didn't make much of a fuss really.
But I knew deep down, even if I didn't consciously know it, I knew he wasn't being honest. It wasn't any one act that made me suspicious. It was just HIM.
Exactly (and I mean TO THE DAY) 4 months later I had the notion to look at our cell phone bill. And there is was in black and white. His infidelity, lies, faults, sickness....you name it, it was there. Right there....he'd been lying AND he'd been talking to another woman.
This wasn't exactly the best day to spring it on him as it was his birthday. But hey, that wasn't my fault. I called him, said I was leaving work, AND I wanted a divorce. It was that simple. Perfectly clear. I was done.
Of course, there was an agrument, tears...the same scenerio, just a different day, a different year....but it was still the same. And even though once again there was no physical affair present, my heart knew no difference. It was the same.
That was the day he got a therapist. I think reality hit him so hard that he probably thought a sledgehammer would have felt like a feather. He knew. I witnessed him melt into a humble pile of liar. I felt nothing. At least that's what I kept telling myself. But that day, our lives changed. Most importantly, HIS life changed.
Fast forward few weeks, and I'd been invited to participate in a therapy session. I didn't want to. This was his cross to bear and he needed to do whatever it took. But he asked, and it truly seemed as though it meant something. I told "my story" and explained how I'd basically taken a leave of absence from our marriage. I was going through the motions, but he'd never get the chance to break my heart again.
And then the therapist asked the million dollar question. "Are you willing to commit to this marriage and stay by him as he makes the journey through self discovery and becomes the husband and friend I needed him to be, or....are you willing to end it?" No gray area. Make a choice.
Now as you read this, you know my answer to that question. Oh it was emotional, and yes, I had to actually THINK about it. I knew that in the physical world, he'd never let me go hungry or be homeless....so those securities would be taken care of. But it was the zillion other needs that he wasn't meeting that concerned me.
So I stayed. I cried, he cried, and I stayed. I do, and I mean this with the most sincere tone, love this man with everything I have. He is good and kind, and when he's focused he's an amazing husband. But I entered this with caution and a promise to not only him but myself that this was it. The last straw, last chance, you F- this up buddy, we're done.
Then he lost his job.....got his old job back, and we made the move back to WA. I have to say that if we are not stronger because of all the garbage we've had to deal with, then we have no chance of survival.
We "talk" to each other....even when it's negative or in a high octive. We yell....argue....but at the end, we apologize and are humbled. THIS is the couple I always wanted to be.
But...I carry my suffering with me every day. I am still cautious, and sometimes suspcious. It's al too calm and he's too "perfect." Is he lying? Not sure. Is he talking to other women. No sure. Does he know if I ever find out about something he's secretive about that I am gone? Absolutely. So why am I suffering? Why do I carry this with me? It's heavy and I hate it.
I can let it go. Ultimately, he's the only driver in his life and he is in control of his actions. All I can do is pray that he truly has been rehabilitated this time and realize what an incredible gift he's been given. Russell's timing couldn't have come at a better time.
My sufferings is comfortable and safe. It keeps me from bawling my eyes out every day, or following Walt around and spying on him. It keeps me from checking his phone or emails. For if I am the victim, if he does it again, I can say "See, I told you so!!" But it is SO unproductive and takes so much energy to be a victim.
No more suffering. What fate lay ahead for us is a mystery. But the suffering has to stop. If he reverts back to his old self, I can't control that. The only thing I have control of is how I handle the situation. He's walking a pretty thin line as it is, and if he jeopardizes our marriage, so be it. I am going to live. I am going to open my heart. If I get hurt again, sure enough, I'll live through it. I'm committed to leaving if he does something stupid. But for today, I am going to allow the exposure of my heart. I am going to let my faith fly and believe in it.
I am free of the anger and will not carry that baggage around any longer. For whatever "this" is, it's far better than some people have it....and at least I have a clear head about things. I'm not going to live with "what if's" and just see where this path takes me. I'm going to embrace this man....my marriage....and our life together.
I suffer NO more.....
P.S. If your reading this my love, this by no means you have a free pass to stupidity....it means I CHOOSE to love you with my whole heart and I put faith in your being the man you've promised and demonstrated you are.....XOXOXO

Puppy Love...

I just have to share a picture I took of my furry kids this morning. Their beds are lined up in my office, and the sleep there while I'm working....it's the cutest thing. Before we added another bed, they were all piled in two beds....now they're piled in three.....I guess being in a dog-pile is more fun!!

The puppy with all the ears is Loco....he's the watchdog of the bunch. Nothing happens without him knowing about it....

Momma is in the middle....so sweet and timid....

The Dack and Jager puled in the end bed.....such silly dogs....

They are my loves and what keep me going throughout the day.....I am truly blessed.

Missing My Dad

This time of year is always the hardest to deal with....I miss my Dad so much this time of year, it just hurts and some days, its almost unbearable. He loved the fall season, all the promise of the holidays and time shared with family and friends. He was contageious.

It's always been my favorite time of the year, and I owe that in part to my Dad. Baseball playoffs, football games, Thanksgiving and the Christmas season. My Dad embraced this time of year like you would a favorite blanket. It warmed him to share it with others...and he loved giving gifts.

I can't think of a time when my Dad wasn't glued to the TV literally ALL weekend watching football. He loved college football, and of course his Washington Redskins. He'd get up, tune into all the pre-grames, and be there all day. I know he was an avid sports fanatic, but I think in so many ways, he wished for the days when HE could have gone on to play college football....be the first 5'6'' running back or wide-receiver. His love of sports carried over into my life, and I think made me the lover of sports I am.

Thanksgiving was the best day for football, that and New Year's. But I don't think he ever had a "bad" sports day. There was always something to watch...bowling....golf....he didn't care. He watched it. Drove everyone nuts.

It's hard to prepare Thanksgiving dinner without missing my Dad so much. He LOVED Thanksgiving.....the food, the family, AND the sports.

I still find my eyes stinging with tears at the thought that another holiday season is coming and my Dad isn't here. He had so many good years ahead of him before the cancer took his life. He loved life, and shared it with everyone. He didn't sulk or complain. While he had this side of him that controlled his world (and the remote), he also knew how to let go, laugh and enjoy life. I learned this from him, and I think my excitement over things and the way I view the world comes from learning it from him.

I saw Christmas decorations at the store the other day....and a pang of heartache hit me. No Dad. He didn't want presents, but he went all out for the rest of us. I think that's why giving him gifts meant so much to us. I miss him.

So as we move into the holiday season, I just wanted to give a shout-out to my Dad....I miss you every day.....but I live as a tribute to you and all you stood for....and the lives you enhanced....

I love you Dad....HUGS!!

It's home....and we should share it.

Home isn't anything unless you share it. If we did, then it wouldn't be home. Rather it would be a hideaway, cave, hermit dwelling....whatever it is you want to call it. But it's not home. Home is a place you share with others.....

This doesn't mean you "live" with people....for certainly single people can have just as safe, comfortable and inviting home as any couple or family. Home is where you invite people to be embraced by your safe place, where you lay your head, say your nightly prayers....eat....you know. Everything you do every day. It's where YOU live. Sharing it with others brings them closer to who you are, and what you're about.

I was reminded today that it has been a long, long time since someone just came to our home to visit....and share a moment of their lives surrounded by our things. Right now we don't have a single picture hung on the walls, but we have furniture, cold beverages, a tv....things that sort of make it a home. But the most important this is that they came.....it had been so long since someone came to visit just because.....because we invited them and not because they were expecting something or looking for a free place to lay their head for a vacation.

We had friends over. We shared our home....our safe place with friends, and it felt so great. Makes me want to spread the joy.

We are looking forward into the future....we're going to have a housewarming party aka football party in November. I love entertaining....it's so much work but I love having people come and cooking for them....fussing over them.....making them feel "at home." It's been so long.

I hate to jinx this wonderfulness.....the joy I feel and safety I feel at "being home" by saying....it's about time the tides turned to our favor, and we have good things happen rather than stressful and upheavel. It's refreshing....and oh so humbling.

I am so grateful that I have put my faith in God and allowed so many unproductive things go. Being bogged down in the mire of the horrible experiences we suffered in Las Vegas.....has not been easy, but it's happening each and every day.

Come, sit a while. You're welcome and we love you.

Setting up housekeeping....

Our new house is starting to feel more like "our" home. We have furniture, and found a great mirror to hang in the living room. It'll be nice to have all our stuff at the end of the month.

That's when the fun will really begin. It's not going to be like last time when we didn't unpack everything. I don't know if it was fear or what, but we never really "settled" in at the old house. Maybe deep down we were both afraid to....worried it wasn't going to work out and why waste all that time with stuff we really weren't using anyway.

This feels a 1000% different....and it feels good.

It's nice for a change.....=)

Pictures to follow.....

What does it mean?

I woke up from a dream this morning.....so scared and sad that I was crying. Rarely do dreams affect me in such a deep way because I think I know that most dreams really aren't about what is happening in the dream. That's what my intelligence is telling me.

But this morning's dream had me outliving everyone. In this dream, there was a plague or something that had swept the country....and people were sick and dying. Also, animals were dying from the same thing. And if anyone really knows me, sick animals send me over the edge.

Here we were, sickly and our pets were sick and dying too. At first it was just lethargy. I could actually SEE them being sick-I still have the image in my mind. One by one, first Momma, then Dack, then Jager and then Loco. They all died. Momma died in my arms, so frail and thin from starvation. I was crying and I can still feel the deep emotion that I had during the dream.

Walt laid out a plastic bag on the couch (and this is a disclaimer for TMI worriers) because he knew he would deficate upon death. I watched this all happening. Knowing I too could see death coming. I could feel life leaving my body as I watched all the things in my every day life slip away.

And in true form of dreams making NO SENSE....suddenly Bret Favre was there, sick and dying, and I was telling him that my mother had a cherished ring....that in spite of not liking football....she had this ring he'd made. I know, deeply wierd stuff.

When I awoke, Walt had just died. As I lay there, I could FEEL my deepest fears rise up in the throat. Was it the fear of my loves being tormented by lingering death.....or was it being left totally, and completely alone after watching everyone just slip away?

What does it mean? Seriously, where do these images and thoughts come from in your subconscious? It scares me to death, and even sitting here recalling the dream, I can still FEEL the pain....still feel the deep emotional pain. And then I look over at all of them sleeping in their prospetive beds and I feel a sense of relief and happiness. They're still here.....even for this moment, my loves are still here.

I shared the dream with Walt, and it's all too uncomfortable for him to think about, let alone try and offer words that will ease my anxiety over being left alone after watching the carnage. He's not equipped for the deep stuff.

My kids accuse me of loving my furry kids more than them, and that makes me laugh. When they have children of their own, they'll understand why that makes me laugh. It's not possible for anything in this life to make me love anything more than them. But the issue isn't about "how much" I love you.....it's the fact that I simply do.

Okay, so what did I learn from this tragic dream? Lord, the wave of thoughts and emotions flooded me; still does. This IS my life. Everything under this roof IS my life. (sands Walt since he's off to work) But those living creatures, human and pet, depend on me for love and trust that I will be there......until the end. Does that make sense? This is how I am interpreting the dream.....and I am not an expert on dreams. But this is how the dream is speaking to me......

Rewind to yesterday.....I lashed out at Walt for my feeling overwhelmed, stressed, irritated....you name it. I said mean things out of my anger for the current situation. How am I supposed to expect Walt to trust that I'm here for the long haul if I use the fact that I can leave at any time against him? Guilt immediately rushes to my brain.....right this moment I feel the urge to just call him and tell him I'll be here when he gets home.

He doesn't need to hear is, as I think he tries to be tough and blow off my outbursts and craziness. But what if my words stick to his heart? That's horrible of me to play with his emotions that way.....it doesn't matter what he's done to me in the past. We're living for the NOW and as far as I can tell or feel, he's being the man I always knew he could be.

God, I can play such headgames with people. I need to work on that. I have no right to hold things out there....I need to move on from this. It's cruel and unkind....two things I am not, nor would anyone attest to that....I am good, and I am kind.....I mean, look at me.....fearful of losing my furry kids. Even though I know without a doubt, I'll probably outlive all of them.

So today I will make a conscious effort to speak kinder.....remember that words hurt even though it may appear so.....cherish those around me.....love them.....say it often......and never lose sight of the big picture.

Big picture moment: I am love beyond measure....by my Savior, by my husband, by my kids, my pets...my friends.....and I need to make every day count.....because in one agonizing moment, it could all be gone. I don't want to be alone....not here....not in the afterlife. I will be a better person today....I will share love....and share the joy it can bring......

And this brought to you....and me....by a dream.....its life crazy? I guess messages come in all forms.....we just need to hear them......

If you're reading this....friend or stranger.....I love you....as a fellow human being....as a friend.....as just a fellow earth dweller......I love you.

What is a friend?

I think if I were to ask every person I know this question, I'd get a zillion different answers. Our own personal frame of reference, at least in my opinion, creates our own definitions of what "we" think friendship is or what it means to us.

I'm a great friend. Yes, I am biased, but I am also repeating what has been said about me. In spite of my insescent jabber-jaw like qualities, I do listen. I'm a great listener. All those years of working for people who liked to hear themselves talk taught me valuable life skills. I listen and not just "hear" what you're saying. And in turn for my listening, you're probably going to get my opinion and/or "this is what I think or would do" commentary.

But aside from that, I'm caring, kind and above all else, HONEST. "Yes , that dress does make your ass look humungous." Or...."Of course I think you did the right thing in standing up for yourself to a snotty co-worker." I'm never malicious in my attempts at being honest or stating the facts as I see them. I do have tact...when necessary. It either deepens the friendship OR....and this happens more often than not, they simply can't handle it. Which is okay with me....I'd rather have a friend who can recieve AND send the truth than a friend who is so Pollyanna about everything, that I want to spew at the thought of heairng their dreary-but oh so sunny-outlook.

It takes a strong person to be my friend. They have to tolerate me. But on the flipside of that, you get receive a meaningful friend who is there.....through the good, the bad, and all the doo-doo in the middle. I'll watch your kids, your dogs, even your pet Iguana. I'll bring a six-pack when I visit (or a bottle or a chocoalte cake...because as a friend I take the time to actually get to know your addictions) But in return, I'm a lot to handle. I said that, I know.

I repeat myself because there are some people who "thought" they could handle being my friend only to realize one important thing. I'm a bitch on wheels when you rile me up.....if the world has just crapped on my head, oh Lordy watch out. You and everyone else in the neighborhood is going to hear about it. FOR HOURS!! Yes, I've been known to harp on something for days.....I can't help it. It's how I cope and ultimately DEAL with whatever it was that pissed me the hell off.

And so....throughout the years, people have come....and people have gone because "that Becky lady is a real piece of work." Okay, so I'm a lot to handle. But as I said, if we see eye to eye on our own expectations of the friendship, we're gold. But step on my tail, and you're going to hear me howl.

This high expectations attitude I develope started about two years ago. I lost a very close friend suddenly. She was 45 and she died by herself, on her bedroom floor...her husband in the next room.....dead and gone. And this event totally transformed how I viewed myself, my goals, how deeply I cherished the people in my life......and above all else, life is for living and not running around waiting for people to love me for who I am. Either you do.....or you don't. That's my own personal definition of friendship.

Becky's definition of friendship (just in case it wasn't clear): you give and take....sometimes the scale weighs more on one side or the other, but it ALWAYS evens out so that both people get the exact thing they need most from the friendship.

I tire so easily from needy people. I mean, come on. We all have bouts of "the world just crapped on my head and I need the ENTIRE world to have pity on me." Been there....done that. But listen to your friends, take their advice or not.....but move the -F- on....I'll harp for a couple of days......and then magically it just disappears and I've moved on to something else. Hell, the hours that people have listened to me and the multitude of advice I've received has no doubt sculpted me into who I am. It's inevitable.

But wallowing in your self-pity bores the crap out of me. But like a good friend, I'll watch you wallow....even throw you a towel when the shit gets too high......but eventually, I'll have the urge to just hose you down and tell you to move on. Isn't that what friends do?

My circle of people whom I participate in a real friendship is LIMITED. And I've circled back to the reason why.....I'm hard to handle. I'm honest, I'll share (albeit maybe it's not always appropriate how much and what I share), I put it all out there and I care unconditionally......but I'm a lot to handle. Thus, the circle is small....so small in fact, that if I were to invite just the people I honestly trust with my soul, we could fit in my dining room with room to spare for the loaded bar. I'm picky and selective but it's much more about being able to handle me. I admit it. Isn't that the first step afterall, admission of the truth?

Love me or hate the crap out of me....at the end of the day, I have to be the one I see in the mirror....I've lived such a crazy life....one filled with pain, bouts of depression, weight gain, self loathing, bitterness, guilt, grief, joy, love......that I just realized that I'd rather have one or two people close to me than have a room full of people who really don't now me.

So I get disappointed a lot and that's my problem and not the fault of the person who disappointed me. I allow it to eat at me. Therefore, the list of people I'd walk across the street to piss on if they were on fire is a short one. The rest, well, I'm sorry but life's too short. I don't want the end of my life to come and I look back and see only how I deceived the world into believing I had the capacity to be Suzie Sunshine each and every day......I want the world to see me for ME. And a real friend does.

So that's my friendship soapbox. Born from years of disappointment and having people fall short of my VERY short list of expectations from a friend. But hey....I'm open to new friendships....I'm not that sheltered or guarded. I'm a badass, but I can always use a new friend and I am open to the possibility. And I'm also willing to be there when the pieces of their lives lay around them like a pool of muddy water.....because that's friendship to me.

Wasn't it the Walrus song....."I am he as you are he as you are me...and we are all together..."

I hold you close oh friends of mine....faithful to the end....and we are all together......

Keeping it "Real"

I've always been a realist.....to a fault much of the time, but I rarely see the world with rose colored glasses. I think this way of viewing the world started many years ago....probably the day my sister died.....but more than likely, even before that.

I had to keep it real. My parents didn't exactly provide the most peaceful home.....it wasn't really their fault, they just didn't like each other. Married young....all that. But it was more than that. I saw things for exactly as they were....real. I had a great imagination....but I seemed to want to play "real life" instead of make believe. I remember once I was playing house with another little girl and I began to yell at her that she was naughty and I hated her....WTF? Where did that come from? Gee, I wonder.

It wasn't until after Betsy died (my baby sister at the age of 16) that I began to really see where I fit into the scheme of things.....my dad loved me unconditionally, and I just didn't realize that the "unreal-ness" of my mother's affections-or lack there of-was the "real" reality.

She'd carried discord for me my entire life. Up to that point, I think my dad's love had surrounded me with a sort of anti-Mom bubble and I didn't see or really pay much attention to it. Then she got sick...frail, and angry. That's when I knew.

Having the opportunity to ask this woman who gave me life "why didn't you love me?" was a rare and life changing moment. You're thinking she's going to give the old standard "mother" answer, right? Hate to disappoint you, but she didn't. For she had this, my undivided attention, to really lay it out there....and she did. This woman who had taken care of me but took every opportunity to inflict pain or sorrow me.....told me in no uncertain terms that "her" daughter had died, and my deceased father's daughter lived on. Reality. A hard smack in the face.....but a relief.

For after Betsy's death, the burning question was "why doesn't she cherish the fact I am still here?" And right there, in that moment, I got the answer. Instead of breaking my heart, it freed the anger and self-loathing I'd felt for 20+ years. For if I had died, then Betsy would have lived...and my mother would be happy. In that instant, I knew I'd had a bigger purpose in life than to make this sickly, angry, and hateful woman happy.

I had learned the truth or reality as I refer to it now. It all melted away....all the hatred, hurt and unknowings....just fell away and I was free. Truly the "truth set me free." And I was free to be me.....to life in the moment.....and be REAL. What she'd inflicted on me for so long.....wasn't real afterall. It was a figment of HER imagination or a hard, bumpy, uncomfortable mattress in the corners of her own made up world. I wasn't a pain in her anything any more.

So since then, now some 5 years ago since her passing, I have done nothing be be honest. Every day....keeping it real. I don't lie, tell people half-truths or make excuses. It's a rough road I tell you, but I'll never not be true to myself again....nor will I deprive the world of my thoughts, or those uncomfortable truths. She freed me from the world of hatred and lies......it was amazing.

I can handle the truth. It's always a bitter pill to swallow, but I can handle it. Just don't lie to me. However.....in the recent past someone felt it necessary to hit me over the head with her truth, or her view of my world as she saw it. It came at a time when I was nowhere near emotionally fit to handle such a heavey load of truth. And in her need to be "honest" with me....she crushed the trust and faith I had in her love for me. While in her "I'm telling you this because I care" speech, I saw judgment and jealousy. I didn't really see her true intent. Should I just have simply taken it for what it was.....instead of allowing it to crush the idea I had of our relationship? Probably not, but as somebody who should have known how down, out and at the lowest possible point of my life.....I couldn't handle her view of my reality. I was barely hanging on to my own.

Today the reality of that is we don't speak anymore. I wrote her a long "this is how I see things" letter and that was it. She wanted so badly for me to see her view of my reality, that it created a tornado of I can't trust you because you kicked me while I was laying on the floor crying my eyes out because I was living in a friend's basement and missing my husband so badly it hurt moment......when the winds calmed, I saw it for what it REALLY was.....reality. Ain't life funny?

It wasn't what she said...for it was what "she" believed to be true....I respected that. But....it was the "when" that I cling to in my own self preservation. Hell...as I lay bleeding, she just poored a big ol' bottle of rubbing alcohol on my wound. OUCH!! Not what I needed.....and the resentment remains.

I am so well equiped to forgive....I've forgiven my mother for hating me (or whatever non-motherly emotion that was), I've forgiven my husband for having an affair before our first annivesary, I've laid to rest the resentment I had for the person that mudered my sister.....I'm full of forgiveness. But the plain old reality of it is I'm tired of people crapping all over my world and not seeing that my keeping it "real" is how I've survivied all the pain that preceeded the forgiveness.

I'm sure that at some point, I'll forgive her....and be able to just move forward and see what happens. But right now I'm stuck so deep in her pile of honesty, that I can't see anythings.

I keep it real....I see the world for just what it is.....people for who they are.....situations for the lessons we're supposed to receive.....and the honest to God love the people in my inner circle shower on me. REALLY I do.

I guess I should thank all that negativty for making me the bitch I am today.....I'm strong and capable. But when I'm all alone and it's quiet.....reality is a cold slap in the face. I've been through enough in the last year to be reminded of all the shortcomings my life (and mostly in the recent past) has truly had....instead, a boost would be nice.

For the first time in gosh-I don't know when-my reality doesn't sting or keep me awake at night. So I have to give a big fist pump to all those who have stuck by me....good and bad.....happy or sad......lying cheating husband or loving man of my heart......basement dweller or new tenant in a homey "home"......thank you man.....I couldn't do it without you.....