I Couldn't Have Predicted

If you're a follower here at Your Mother Knows, you know it's my mission to share with you things I've learned regardless of the fact that it might not be something many talk about... I want to give you some advanced warning about some of these serious life questions.

The other day, my Best Friend Forever, Pam and I were talking about stuff and she said, "I just feel like I want to yell and scream!  I'm going to be 62 years old in a couple of months and I just did NOT think it was going to be like this!!"

Upon talking further, she was stressed over her daughter not realizing that the things she'd like Pam to do to make her life easier make Pam's life harder; things like watching her granddaughter 50 hours a week without being paid in order to help her daughter save money...

Or, her husband figuring that because she's home all day, she can deal with the house work and the gardening, the major home improvement projects, and the finances because, after all, he works all day and since she's home not doing anything important...! Pam's frustrated because doing everything she can for everyone else means that she doesn't have time or energy to do anything she likes to do for herSelf. And not doing anything for yourSelf leaves you worn out and cranky.

Really, it wasn't anything monumental that was so upsetting to her. Just the normal stuff of life being burdensome at times and everyone else thinking that they have it harder than you do, without stopping to consider how many demands they heap on your not-as-young-as-you-once-were head.

Pam uttered, "I feel like I blinked and my life is gone and now I'm this age and wondering how I got here so fast!! I don't have the physical stamina or mental determination to just go, go, go! Nor do I want to, I just want to say, 'Give me an effin' break!'"

Instead, she simply sucks it up and continues to soldier on. To a large extent, I think that's what most of us attempt to do.  We just keep going until we can't.  It helped when I explained that I feel the very same way.  Then I added, "I go to bed most nights and think to mySelf, 'Is this all there is?  Is there nothing more to life when you're older than getting up each morning, going through your daily routine, only to climb back into bed each night?'" While we age, does our scope and ability to influence or be relevant simply slip away?

I couldn't have predicted how fast it all flies by! How do you find the joy and passion in life when who you were is not who you are now?  You don't have the professional cache' you once had. You don't have the energy to attack the chores and interests you once loved. It seems you're more what you're not than what you are.  And, the critical question becomes, who are you when your face begins to show its age and your mind no longer has the elasticity and your Spirit seems to sigh a lot more than it used to?

When you're young, you have a curiosity about what comes next; the next acquisition; the next accomplishment; the next relationship.  When you grow older, the world seems to grow smaller and the thrill seems harder to find.  Why? Is it that way for everyone?

This is one of my favorite pictures of Pam and me, circa 1981. I'm sure you could tell thanks to big sunglasses and bags. Yes, that's me with curly, permed hair which was the rage in the Big Hair 80s! It's a candid that captures what she and I do best with each other- LAUGH!  A lot.  I mean, hysterical laughter over the simplest things. We are best friends even though she lives on the Left Coast and I am here in the east.  We don't get to see each other often, but that's not changed how close we are. We find comfort in our shared experiences because it always helps to not feel alone. I know I took comfort in our conversation because she confirmed a lot of what I feel and haven't said about this entire aging thing. If I feel as if I'm whining about something, I have a tendency to just not talk about it at all.  However, not talking about it sure doesn't help me to gain any clarity.

The fact is, no one tells us how to navigate this phase of life.  We spend way more time telling a young girl what's going to happen once she gets her period!  But, how to love life as your physical self slows down?  No, we don't talk about that at all.

This quote by Friedan is my hope about aging, but I'm not there yet.  I'm almost 62 and I know that by today's standards that's not old.  But it ain't young either.  I know I'm only 28 years old in my head where I live and it's sunny all the time.  While I also know that when someone looks at me driving down the road, they probably see an old or older woman driving.  How does one reconcile who they are in their Spirit with who they have become as a physical entity?  If you know, please tell me.

Friend, Sheena, gave me a missing piece to this big puzzle when we talked recently. She was explaining that her doctor suggested that she get a second opinion about a medical issue that they still have yet to nail down.  Sheena said, "I told the doctor that I would consider that, but not now.  Just now, I don't want to go chasing further; I simply want to take a breath and live life.  I'll give myself time to just be and not worry so much about every little thing."  And, that makes so much sense to me that I want to give her a huge hug.

Maybe the key to aging with joy and grace is to accept it as it comes without putting so much comparison of what used to be on it. Perhaps it's about managing expectations of yourSelf by doing what you can, walking away from what you can't, and being kinder to yourSelf.  Stop comparing who you used to be with who you are currently. When you're tired, stop. When you're fretting, take a breath and let it be. Focus on what you can do when you're sick of obsessing about all you can't do. Don't sweat the small stuff and remember most of it is small stuff.

And, realize that while aging takes a great many things away from your life, it also gives you moments of joy and a richness to cherish.  This picture is Pam and me, circa 2013.  We're at the wedding of that little girl who is sitting in the stroller in that first picture! Aging has given me the gift of some very deep and critically marvelous relationships.  If I can only help mySelf adjust to the day to day of it all, I'm sure I can find a lot more to be positive about, than fearful of, aging.

I sure hope Mr. Lewis is right. I know Pammy is equally hopeful.  I wish all of us the joy of deepening knowledge and understanding as we grow older. I hope we find far better things than those we had to leave behind. Finally, I hold fast to the adage, "Growing old is mandatory; growing up is not." If Peter Pan escaped the growing up bit, perhaps I can as well.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Knows It Goes By So Fast

Women's Day International

Only women can do the things that women do: Love, Nurture, Care, Laugh, Sing, Contribute, Win, Survive, LIVE!  Be Real Human Beings! Men will do it their way and that's all well and good. Certainly necessary. But, today we celebrate Women contributing and making a difference to this world of ours.

And, just because I love the song and the woman who sings it-

May you have a day that reminds you of your importance to the world around you. Sing it out Girls!

 Namaste' Till Next Time,
 Holly aka She Who IS

Silent Sermon Sunday

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly

Mirror, Mirror

It seems to me that if we have a wee bit of courage and an open mind and heart...

...if we develop enough fortitude to spend time with ourSelf; get comfortable with ourSelf; really take the time to examine what makes one singularly special and necessary; truly get to know who you are...

...if we fearlessly investigate what makes us happy and content.  If we learn what we want from life and expect of ourSelf... learn why we are here...  see what is possible and what we wish to accomplish...

...then maybe, just maybe...

...we can run through life with wonder, amazement and joy. Just like my beloved, intrepid Thoryn Peach whose mother, Alea, I have loved since she was that small.

I hope you find joy in your day and your life, just like Thoryn!

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Is Still Learning About HerSelf

Where To Go And Why It Matters

Right from the top, I'm telling you that these are simply my thoughts.  I truly don't know enough about this lifestyle issue to share facts.  But, writing about it is the way to get my thoughts out on the topic of the president recently rolling back federal regulation, and turning it back to the states, the battle over which bathroom a citizen should use or be mandated to use.

Talk about an over reach of government!  Now they want laws about using a public restroom!!

As far as I'm concerned, this whole controversy is specious. It's not like we have someone standing at the door determining if one has a penis to use the men's room.  Or, if a woman has a vagina in order to gain access to the women's room.

Seriously, if no one is forced to look at your junk while you're in there, then which restroom one feels most comfortable in using is clearly for the individual to decide.

Michael and I disagree on this topic.  He believes that men, e.g. a penis carrying Human should have to use the men's room.; if you have a vagina, you should have to use the women's room.  The whole issue of choice makes him cringe.

Perhaps the confusion is because we're older and more familiar with the labels of gay, lesbian, cross dresser, gender bending, but not as familiar with the concept of Transgender.  Michael feels like Transgender means a person who is, let's say, born a male but 'feels' like they are a woman or a person born a female who 'feels' like they are a man.

I maintain that it's more than that.  There is a vast difference between female and woman.  A vast difference between male and man. It starts with a feeling, yes, but ultimately those who really believe themselves Transgender invest incredible amounts of energy, work and emotion to change their bodies and psyche', presenting to the world their true identity.  It's much more complicated a process than simply a female wearing men's clothes or vice versa.

Again, I remind you that my words here are very simplistic about a life style that is so much more complex.

For me, while I don't really understand what is all the craziness about this restroom issue, I maintain that it is more important and less disruptive for the Transgender individual to use the restroom that is correct for the identity they show the world and not the plumbing with which they are born.

Let me give you an example--  Suppose you and I were out shopping and this gorgeous woman



walked into the restroom with us.  Other than being totally envious of her gorgeousness, the fact that she was in there wouldn't phase us at all.  She'd go to her stall and we'd go to ours.

But, that totally fabulous woman is actually born male.  That beauty is Ms. Laverne Cox who identifies and lives as a woman and works very successfully as an actress.

Now, let's say Michael was on his way into a public restroom and this guy, again totally gorgeous, walked in after him.  However, instead of walking up to a urinal, he steps into one of the stalls available in men's rooms because, let's be honest, sometimes a guy just needs to poop!

Mike wouldn't be suspicious of a 6'2" man going into a stall to do his business.  Except that guy is Casey Legler, a 30 something, born female who works exclusively as a male model! Casey lives life as a man.

Here's my point.....

If Laverne was forced, due to absurdly intrusive laws, to use a Men's Restroom, I believe guys would be highly uncomfortable seeing her walk in.  Just as women would be totally flustered if that hunk, Casey, walked in to use the women's room.

Men don't want women in the restroom (they'll tolerate it at concerts and stadiums when a gal's just gotta go and the line is way too long for the women's room,) and women most certainly have a lot to say about men in the room with them when they're doing their business!  What plumbing they may have hiding under their clothes doesn't cause any issue in comparison to seeing a female where she shouldn't be or a male where he shouldn't be peeing!

If a female who lives life as a man is in a public restroom, I bet my life that (s)he would use a stall, not a urinal.  And, I would bet the same about s(he) who lives life as a woman!  People simply want to do their business in private even when in a public restroom.

Want to limit the drama and confusion?  The easiest way- just hold it till you get home. Or, change them all to unisex. Or, allow who we see to use the one that's suited for the image they present the world.

For those ridiculous enough to take this argument to the extreme, suggesting that without regulations you'll have perverted men who say they identify as women simply to use a girl's bathroom or locker room in order to waggle their penis for all to see, is stupid.  Just as it's crazy to think that a person like Casey would walk in to the boy's for the sole purpose of showing off her vagina.

For those who yell it's uncivilized to have a female in the men's room or a male in the women's room, I'm telling you that it's a lot more disconcerting and confusing to see a woman where she doesn't belong or a man where he shouldn't be!

A truly Transgender individual IS NOT a sexual deviant!  If you have those two things linked in your mind, then do the work to learn the facts!

Anyone who walks into either restroom for the express purpose of  a sexual charge or flaunting their plumbing is an Exhibitionist, not Transgender! Living life as an authentic Human Being is complicated enough without adding this foolish fuel to the fire. Those who truly are Transgender seem to be those Human Beings who exemplify what it means to have courage to live, as my blog title says, "... being a real Human Being."

Being real is not easy and not without risk. Being a REAL Human Being has almost nothing to do with sexual organs. Being REAL is about heart, mind, spirit, soul.

And as far as I'm concerned, your birth anatomy and regardless your self-identify as male or female/man or woman, the only time in a restroom I might raise my eyebrow at you is if you don't wash your hands before exiting! That's what should be against the law in any state!

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Wants People To Pee In Peace 

Listen With Curiosity

"Listen with curiosity...The greatest problem with communication is we don't listen to understand. We listen to reply. When we listen with curiosity, we don't listen with the intent to reply. We listen for what's behind the words."

-Roy T. Bennett, The Light in the Heart

Most of us have heard part of this quote...the bit about the greatest problem.  I think the rest of the quote is the most important because, after pointing out the problem with listening, it gives us the ingredient needed to correct it.

Listen with curiosity--  Why does that change everything?  Because if you are curious about something or someone, it shifts how much you are willing to invest to discover the answer.  It's the bit that engages you in a process instead of simply being a witness to something.  It changes you from being passive to active.  It makes you a participator in a process.

There is a vast difference between hearing and listening! When you understand if you are in a hearing state vs. a listening state, you're able to change the communication dynamic when necessary.

So, what's the difference? I find it interesting that when you Google, "images of hearing," you get things that suggest the ear is the most important ingredient. 

But, when you type in, "images of listening," this is what you find...

...countless images of people with various expressions, obvious eye contact, being actively engaged in a process.

You see the connection, feel the interaction.  There is nothing passive about it! You sense that hearing is an autonomic (unconscious or involuntary response,) while listening is a Human, dynamic, spirit involved decision.

The kanji for listening explains it best...

Of equal importance to the functioning ear, is also the involvement of you- your eyes and heart, and your undivided attention.

When all parts of you are involved, you no longer feel the need to reply.  Instead, you are listening to give a great gift to another; you are listening to validate them.  You are listening to give someone the gift of being present.  You are reminding them that they are important, loved, cared about.

Instead of the need to talk, the listener is there to give another Human Being the gift of being Heard.

And, we all know what a relief and validation it is to feel as if we are heard when we desperately need to feel that someone understands or cares how we feel.  You are giving the great gift of one who is willing to really care what we think.

I always say that there's not a Human Being alive who isn't interesting or doesn't have a story that's worth hearing.  But we have thousands of Human Beings who are never asked to share their story with us. And that's a real shame.

Each chance you have to truly listen to someone is an opportunity to invite them to share a chapter of themselves.

While it's often said that curiosity killed the cat, it's also true that meeting each encounter with curiosity means setting the stage for true communication instead of a missed opportunity.  So, today, spend some time being curious about someone.  Use the time to sit still, be open and listen.

It makes all the difference between being simply heard and feeling truly important, even loved. You will give someone the best gift of all.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Is A Good Listener

Only Four Questions of Value

This song continues to be my all-time favorite.  Can any of us really say why a song stands out so importantly?  Probably because of the time and place one first heard it.  Maybe it reminds us of a friend or lover and the poignant remembering of them.

Evan and I were talking one day about dating and how men and women are so different that it's hard to know what to do to make anyone happy.  I said, "If you want to know what women want, go listen, really listen to Bryan Adam's song, Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman?

He answered, "I wish I had money for every time a girl has said that to me..." then I countered, "If that many females have said it, then it's really simple to do your homework and listen.  It's a roadmap for what to do."

So why is this song so wonderful? For me, it's the Flamenco guitar played so fluidly by the great late, Paco de Lucia and the dreamy waltz quality of the music. And most certainly it's the intensely personal lyrics.  It's the passionate, intimate way that Adams sings this song.

I suppose I love it because it takes something so complex and boils it down to the essence of how to live when one is in love.

And for my readers who can't get enough of Johnny Depp, feast your eyes on this one while you listen to Chris Daughtry croon his version of this glorious song.

"There are only four questions of value in life...
 What is sacred?
 Of what is the spirit made?
 What is worth living for?
 And, what is worth dying for?
The answer to each is the same; only love."

Go through you day with love as your focus.  And know that women and men aren't that complicated. We simply hope for a love that we can see and feel every day expressed in the little things.  For, the little things are always the big things.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Is Loved and Grateful

Spining Like A Top

When life seems to be running at a hectic pace that leaves us breathless we say, "I'm spinning in place," or "I feel like a spinning top!"  "Like a Whirling Dervish..."  generally indicates that we're going as fast as we can, attempting to keep up, and feeling exhausted for our efforts.

It can be so defeating, this feeling as if your best effort to stay in control is not enough.  Feeling as if Life is so much bigger than you can manage.

It's interesting that Whirling Dervish has become synonymous for everything spinning out of control when in reality since 1273, this Sufi moving mediation has been bringing Human Beings out of their daily grind and into loving connection with The Divine.  This ecstatic movement is performed by The Mevlevis- the Sufi Mystical Sect, to calm the mind, open the heart, and touch The Creator. The most famous Sufi is the poet, Rumi; the Mevlevis formed to mark his passing from this world and into immortality.

Proving, yet again, that what we think we're seeing is not always what we're seeing. In this case, to be a Whirling Dervish isn't about spinning out of control-- it's about moving with focus and intention. Even when spinning with wild abandon, Dervish don't worry about controlling life. They focus, instead, on dancing their way to an active relationship with life.

The Dervish spins with delight.  Swirls with joy.  Circles with intent.  Starting with one arm up and one down to open a channel to the love that comes from above us and sending it down to the earth. Then slowly both arms raise up and up in praise and connection with The Maker of All That Is.

The Dervish spins to remember the Qur'an teaching, "Hearts become tranquil through the remembrance of Allah."  The moving meditation brings peace to the dancer and to those who witness it. The religion of Islam really is one of peace, but in our world it's been corrupted and taken hostage by angry, hateful people of ill intent. Islam, at its heart, is like all other true faiths with its intention to make us aware that we are all threads in the tapestry of God.

The ecstatic movement of the Dervish personifies the quaint notion, "Dance as if no one is watching!"  They dance with the aim of reigniting connection with The Divine.  They circle and swirl until they lose their limited thoughts of being only Human. They dance in a group to give rise to collective energy and once raised, they share it with all the world for our peace, for our betterment, for our Humanity.

Look at her beautifully peaceful face. Her spins have filled her skirt.  It billows out and encircles her, holding her in a clear moment with her creator.  She is in love.  She shares it with us. At first glance, the movement may seem chaotic and wild but when you see her face, you become aware that things are not always as they seem.

When life seems as if it's all too much, don't stop spinning.  Just change what the spinning means. Change your view point.  Become the Whirling Dervish.  Use the world as music to help your spins bring you peace.

My Darlings, remember to dance through your day and life as if no one is watching! But, know that through it all, regardless of challenges or hard times, The Creator is always joyfully waiting to dance with you.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly

Thyroid Trials

Dear Thyroid,

What is going on?!  You and I have been in a love/hate relationship for about 25 years but for the most part, we've learned how to live in peace with each other. I've always checked on you regularly and take my Synthroid every morning like clockwork.  So long as I've given you what you need, we've worked together pretty well, I think.

So, what's up with you over the past couple of months, huh?

And, what is it that makes it seem as if you've suddenly awakened out of the blue?  Or, is that just some sort of weird game you're playing and it's not really you but something else going on?

I've never heard of having to adjust medication down and then down again after years of it needing to be slowly increased to keep you alive as long as we can.

When you're not working I know it pretty quickly.  My finger nails become projectile missiles shattering whenever they feel like.  My brain stops adding 2 + 2= 4.  I can't concentrate on anything. I feel as if the colors in the world all take on a shade of gray. I walk around feeling slightly dizzy and as if I am in a perpetual fog.  Disconnected. My whole body starts to feel like a pulse and my heart beats so loudly that at times it's as if that's the only thing I can hear.

My very own version of Poe's, Tell Tale Heart.  So not good.

But, we dropped the meds because six weeks ago or so, you came back saying we were giving you too much medication.  And, after testing again, today we are going to have to lower the meds again. When I asked the nurse, "Umm, can a thyroid become over active after years of it being hypo," she answered, "That's a great question.  Not usually."

My great question means that now I'm going for an ultra sound to see if there are nodules on you now, Thyroid.  Nice.  Real nice.

It's all right.  Better for you and me to know what's going on with you, don't you think? Any of my readers have this happen to you?  I'd be very interested in any info you can share.

Stay tuned for more.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Has Thyroid Issues   

Open Letter To My Valentine

My Very Dear Valentine,
Will you be mine for another year?  You and I are so great together.  We Still got it...
We're still the perfect match.

You are that sweet heart who makes my world so much better.  Who makes my life so very complete. You are my friend, my family, my love.  You!  Valentine's Day is all about you!  A chance to remind you how very important you are to me.

So, let me remind you that you can count on me to...

...Share quality time with you because any time we are together is the best time of all.

...Warm you when the world seems cold and harsh.

 

...Walk the path with you.  Sometimes I will take the lead and other times you will lead me, but mostly we'll just stroll side by side.  When we are weary of our journey, we will give each other the encouragement to continue!

...Help open doors for you or remove obstacles standing in your way because you most certainly do that for me!

...Shed light on your situation whenever you ask because I need you to do that for me! We will share the sunshine of silliness, smiles, and laughter.

...Continue to enjoy simple pleasures while searching out the big ones.  Little things like a cup of coffee or tea and an impromptu chat.  You and me taking a brief time to just BE!

...Be always available to give you a kiss and a hug.  I'm so very good at hugs!

...Be that touch of whimsy that is still so necessary.



Because, I truly do find every part of you fascinating and lovable.  All facets of you are perfect in my eyes; I wouldn't change a thing about you.  But, if and when you wish to change I will support your efforts.

All of this I will be and do gladly because you hold my heart safely in your hands and I want to remind you that yours is always safely in mine.

Happy Valentine's Day to all my Sweet Hearts!  Thanks for sharing everything you are with me.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Is So Lucky To Have So Many Sweet Hearts

Smooth As Silk

Al Jarreau, I will miss your smooth, silky sweet voice.  I will miss your beautiful smile and your soulful way of digging down into a song.

I will miss how you changed with the times and kept your vocal chops relevant.  I will miss your ability to put some bounce in our steps or calm us down and mellow us out. Your way of giving us a few moments when listening made us feel a bit hopeful for our day, our world.



"I hope you don't mind that I put down in words how wonderful life is while you are in my world...," because even though you are gone from it, your voice is still here with us.

And, that continues to give me hope. Thanks for the music, Mr. Jarreau.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly

Being Kinder Starts With...

...It's said it starts with yourSelf.  Whatever you want to push out into the world, if it's to be real and genuine it starts with really owning it and being it. The work starts from within and emanates.

I think that must be the hard part...it's always easier to see what's out in front of you.  Sometimes we forget the point of origin.  We forget to add ourSelf to the list of those who should get something good and meaningful.

This is my goal: To remember to give to me what I would so freely give to others.  To hone my kindness to what is real.  What is true.  What is of value.

If you feel I'm not giving as much to mySelf as I give to you, won't you be gentle and remind me? My spirit will love you for it.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Wishes To Be Truly Kind

FaceBook Killed My Blog, Then Politics Killed My FaceBook

It would seem that the immediate gratification of communicating with each other via social media platforms has really taken a bite out of blogging.  I guess the chance to reach more people is just too enticing.  But, when I think about the fact that I started Your Mother Knows as more or less a diary or repository for my thoughts, I'm not sure why I've drifted from it.

That's not correct- I drifted from it primarily because I have to invest more energy in my writing here versus the hit and run communication that I do on social media.  Hell, Twitter has been the best editor I've ever worked with because only having 146 characters at my disposal means get to the point.



So, I am back again because I absolutely, at this time, EFFIN' hate facebook.  Or more to the point, I hate the way people are being pre- and post election on facebook.  The amount of hysteria, hate, inflammation, craziness, panic, angst, fear is way beyond even what I experienced with Bush Derangement Syndrome. I'd even venture that if you asked any liberal if they'd take the current President Trump or have back President Bush, they would scream, "Bring George Back To The Oval Immediately!!!" That should give anyone perspective on the current level of crazy and backlash against the new 45th President of these UnUnited States.



As a PR person, I'm fully versed in how it feels to stand in front of a group and make a statement only to be blasted in response.  The ability to stand there, not react, and continue to try and discuss takes years to master.  It is very hard not to take it personally.  I'm proud to say for the most part of my career, I succeeded.  Not that I didn't go back to my office muttering, "ASSHATS!!!!," while slamming my office door.  Hell, I am only Human!

Yesterday I signed off of FB wishing everyone well.  I have had enough!  I am over seeing posts suggesting the end of the world and civilized society.  I'm done with reading things that would make one believe that I'm somehow a hideous Human because I voted for Trump. Or that I am somehow morally inferior to my friends on the left. I am finished with reading, "HAPPY NOW?!," every time someone at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue so much as picks up a pencil.

Here's what I can say to all my fellow facebook posters:

I can be somewhat concerned over some of the news coming from The White House without wishing they would start Impeachment Hearings for the new president.

I can be Pro-Choice and Anti-Abortion because of over-broad abortion policies. I can be Pro-Choice and strongly believe tax dollars should not be used to support clinics that provide these procedures.

I can be Pro-Access without having my taxes pay for your birth control. If you use it, pay for it yourself. I paid for mine.

I can be Pro-Birth and not Anti-Woman.

I can be Pro-Life and see the reasonable desire of some to be peacefully freed from the pain of their failed bodies.

I can be a champion of immigration and still believe it should be done within the legal limits the laws of this country have drawn. I can believe that if you are here illegally and have found yourself facing our legal system, you should be permanently deported.

I can be a conservative in regard to spending and rather socially liberal.

I can be a supporter of the Gay and Lesbian community without being a Democrat!

I can wonder about the complexities of Trans-Gender without judging the individual.

I can be white without being racist.  I can vote for a Republican candidate and support Human Rights.

I can multi-task and hold various opinions and like every other Human Being on this earth, I can be more than one-dimensional on any issue you might wish to discuss and debate.

What I am not willing to do is have every single thought or comment I post on my wall used as fodder for people who simply want to pick a fight.

What I am not willing to do is be judged by Liberals or Conservatives.

I am not willing to fill my day with people who want to live with the drama instead of looking at the facts. Or, shout at me if I attempt to respectfully post the facts.

I am not willing to fill my wall with people who do not want to listen to any opinion that varies from their own.

Or, with people who lecture me on my choices.

I am not willing to deal with people who think access to my page on social media means you can say whatever you want to me! I did not Friend you on facebook to fight!

STOP!  Just stop!!!!  I used to be paid to let people blast me for my comments, but I'm not getting paid any longer to listen to your shit!!!!  I call DONE!

I'm to the point of absolutely wanting to slap people, which is about me, not really them.  People are going to be who they are.  And as infuriating as it is to me right now, they have the right to do and say what they wish. If I don't like it, I have to go.  Exercise my options... vote with my feet.  So, here I am back to my blog once more. Why?  Because I'm a communicator and I have a deep desire to reach out and connect with others. Because I am a writer and the need to hone my craft is a niggling itch that never goes away. Because I am a Human Being and need someplace safe to process my thoughts.

Right now, we have a brand new President in the Oval Office.  Personally, do I like the man?  I DO NOT KNOW because I don't know him, personally.  News flash, neither do you!  Do I think I might not want to have him as a personal acquaintance?  Leaning very much toward, yes.  But, then again, if I knew the man personally, I might change my mind.



Because I voted for him, does it mean that I think him the perfect candidate?  NO.  However, as unorthodox as is his personal style of communicating, he didn't keep me up nights worried as much as the idea of Mrs. Clinton sitting in the Oval.  So, I voted my conscience from strictly a political point of view.

My pulling that lever on election day did not automatically turn me into a hater of Immigrants, LGBT, Muslims, Women, The Environment, Climate Change Theory, Little Children, Education, Social Programs, Those In Need, The Poor, and whatever else you might want to throw into the Shit Stew that is currently life in America.  I am the same person.  The very same person.  If you genuinely were my friend before I voted, you should respect me and understand that we don't have to agree on every single thing.

I am adult enough to understand that I do not have to like a person personally in order to understand they might be the best person for the job.  I may hate their personal style, but their resume of success is enough to prove why they are sitting in the seat.  And, even more, I trust in the Will of The American People and our process of government!

But, our world is not the same place.  Instead we now live in a world where the only thing of value is a person's feelings and their right to hurl them at others!  Their feelings are the only thing of paramount importance.  Their feelings; not yours.  We no longer understand the value of taking a measured stand on issues.  We no longer teach the importance of putting what's best for the majority ahead of what we might want as an individual.  We no longer view the world via a Servant's Heart. We do not know what it means to be a good citizen, instead we just want to be emoting bags of FEELINGS!

We have turned social media into a tool for acting out. We don't use it as a platform to learn from each other or where we share common ground.

I cannot abide the hysteria.  Can't abide the complete and total denigration of a man who has been on the job for about two weeks.  Most of us starting a new job are lucky to remember where the bathrooms are within the first two weeks, but can we give the guy whose office is in a complex as complicated as The White House a chance?!  Oh, HELL NO!  We can't be reasonable.  We can't take a wait and see position.  We can't act like Human Beings instead of a mob out to kill The Monster.

And, the war continues with this next chapter of the presidency with the Democrats and Republicans in Washington just as bad if not worse.  The Democrats are going to fight like fiends against any and everything because that's what their base demands.

We certainly can't be civil in our discourse.  We can't discuss with each other.  We cannot listen to each other.  We don't want to think, analyze, garner facts... we just want to react.

We want the toxic feeling of drama coursing through our hearts and minds- living as if our hair's on fire!

But, I don't.  I don't want it even for a few minutes much less Every. Single. Minute. Of. The. Day. as it is currently in Social Media.

I've lost friends, (by that I mean FB friends, which aren't really real.  It's not like the ones who unfriended me ever spent one real-time minute sitting and looking at me while we talk,) because of a man I don't know personally.  I've been unfriended over my civic duty of casting my vote. I've lost friends who got so mad reading comments made by others on my posts, that they decided I am not worthy of their time and energy. Sadly, I have had one or two people who have known me awhile in real time simply turn on me, too. Was it because I baited them or belittled them? Nope; it was because I had the audacity to give them my differing opinion on the posts on their walls.

Concurrently, I had several people message me off facebook basically asking why I tolerate people talking to me as they do.  And that's been my conflict; feeling personally savaged while still attempting to stay true to my core belief that dialogue is the only thing that can save us.  That being open is the only possible answer to our annihilation. But, when a young friend of mine, a guy whose take on the world is pretty solid and grounded, texted me to say that he found me way more tolerant and civil than he could ever be, it started my wheels turning...

Am I allowing mySelf to be abused by others simply because I believe so strongly in the importance of letting people express themselves?  The answer came back, "Sadly, yes."  Eventually I picked being kind to mySelf over the need for others to be crazy on something as inconsequential as a social media platform.

So be it. I'm done with it for now.  Eventually, I may go to see what people are posting about their dogs or their kids. I may want to see what new recipe someone has found and really likes.  But not until I can control mySelf and not want to bitch slap people who have been fucky with me simply because they can get away with it.

For believe me, I don't care how passionately you feel about things, I guarantee that you do not have the courage to be in the same space with me and talk like that.  You wouldn't have the nerve because you'd be looking into my eyes and you could not deny that I am a Human Being standing there being excoriated by you...

...over matters that neither YOU nor I have the power to control.  Over matters which, on the day to day, do not change how you live from the time you wake till you crawl back in bed at night.

...over people whom we will never know personally.  Instead, on a stupid social media platform, you'll lecture me from your moral high ground of superiority about how I should be tolerant of all social issues and people while you are completely intolerant of me or others having any opinion that varies from your own.

Hypocrite.  Let me give you a few minutes to yank that blank from your eye before you start searching for the splinter in mine. I want you to see clearly when you see me. As sad as it might be, I can live without you being kind, for which I've given up all hope. But, I cannot and will not abide people who refuse to be civil when I can simply stop your access to my space.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Is Done With facebook, For Now

How To Be The Son In A Life

This is my friend, Coke, as we all have called him most of his life.  His real name is Constantine.  He says he was almost in the third grade before he could write his name without errors.  You might have that problem, too, if you had to write Constantine Lee Hagepanos over and over with those big thick pencils.

We've been friends for a long while now.  We met in college; he was a photographer for the University's newspaper.  He captured one of my favorite images one morning during the dark ages of in-person student registration.  It's only one of the thousands of images he's captured with his camera. He probably doesn't even remember this one but it's special to me.  It was the start of a years long friendship.  In many ways our lives have paralleled.  We could be brother and sister from different mothers based on similar life experiences. Heck, we even have the same middle name!

Coke has always marched to the beat of his own drum and many times that's not been the easiest march.  He's a people rescuer.  He will do anything for someone that he likes, or admires, or loves, or just because he's encountered them and they need help that he can give.  Sometimes his willingness to help another has been at personal cost to himself.  Sometimes he's invested in someone who really didn't deserve all his help.  Sometimes they proved unworthy of his gift.  But, more often than not, anyone who has encountered Coke becomes better for his investment.  He is one of the best friends a person could have.

A recipient who is worthy of Coke's investment is his mother, Callie.  She is a wonderful spirit of quiet wit and wisdom.  She has not had an easy life.  She missed out on much of the joy one should expect from those around them. And as she has grown older, with significant health issues, Coke has been torn as to how to help her.  He has brothers and sisters, but as is often the case with family dynamics, it's generally one child who shoulders the burden of the many decisions of caring for and about an aging parent. Not that the other children couldn't or wouldn't take care of the parent, but generally there is one who the parent will allow to care for them.  For Callie, that child is Coke.

To wit, Coke, who had a very interesting life in Germany working as an Ex-pat for a major banking concern, decided to come home and move in with Callie.  Not that he felt he had to, but because he genuinely felt it to be his calling. He invested major personal wealth into clearing out and rehabbing the small bungalow he grew up in so life for Callie would be easier. He has centered his life on taking care of her physical needs.

Yesterday, peacefully, Callie shed this world of ours and has gone on to The Next Place.  Coke's tour of duty is now complete.  He has done for his mother what he has done for so many of us-- he has seen her safely home.

For any who have had the experience of taking care of a parent as the world around them slips slowly away, we understand what it can take out of a person.  But, I have never heard Coke utter more than a few casual complaints about it all.  Mostly, he just viewed it as a duty and necessity and shouldered on.

He always seems to find a sense of purpose or contentment with a day.  And now that Callie's part in his life is complete, I know he will find even more definition as a beloved Pop to his small grandson. He will continue his work as mentor and guardian for his nephew.  He will always be the father who loves his daughter through all the phases of her life.  And I will hold hope, thanks to Coke's example with his mom, that his daughter will understand what love in action looks like when Coke's time of need unfolds.  He will always be to the rest of us, one of the best friends we have.

I know Callie is at peace.  I hope for the same for my friend.  Because he deserves it.  He's earned it. And if I can ever return the favor of being his friend in anyway, I hope I can do so as well as he has always been a friend to me.

I know one thing for certain; there are thousands of sons in this world of ours.  But there are a rare few, like Coke, who work to be the sun in a parent's life.  A Son who views it as his duty, to return to that parent the gift of life and caring.  A son who instinctively knows how to be the joy that a parent deserves from life-- especially when the joy goes missing.



Coke is my Friend; he's become Michael's Friend.  He is Callie's Son.  And he is often the Sun in our lives especially during those times when the darkness is closing in and we are completely afraid that we'll never see the light again.

May Callie go forth shining.  And may all of us who call him friend be there to help Coke continue to find the joy in life now that this chapter closes and he looks forward to what comes next.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Coke's Friend

Over A Year In The Making

It's taken me over a year to write this post.  I'm still not sure I'm up for it, but at this point I know it won't ever be my best work, or the easiest to construct; certainly it won't be easy to read, ever.  But, there you have it.  Some of the most necessary writing is the worst to create.  On the steps together are Argyle, Rory, and Fiona.  It's one of the last times I was able to capture an image with the three of them.  On January 29, 2015 Michael and I said farewell to Rory and Fi and sent them together on their journey to The Rainbow Bridge.

For any pet parent, the decision to do this is the worst.  I call it the Hideous and Heroic Thing. Hideous because you are making the decision to end the pet's life.  Heroic because, in all cases, the decision comes when you can almost hear your beloved pet whisper, "Oh thank you for loving me enough to end my suffering."

We decided to do it this way because Rory & Fiona had spent every day of their lives together after being born 10 days apart.  Fiona was first and from the same sire different dam.  Rory always looked to Fiona to tell them what they should do.  I never once saw him question her authority.  As they got older, if he didn't agree with her, he'd simply ignore her, but he never once challenged her.

In the end, they were only nine years old and both were dealing with very unexpectedly serious issues.  With Rory, I tried for two years to get him well-- after all, it was just a skin issue!  With Fiona, her cancer showed up out of the blue and as there is no cure for Transitional Cell Carcinoma of The Bladder- TCC for short, well, I just hung my head, opened my hands, and yielded to The Creator with this defeated prayer, "I can't do this any longer.  My life is consumed with trying to keep them together body and soul.  And, I am failing.  They deserve better.  I love them too much to keep them here."  Her cancer was the final straw.

I think I now understand how a parent of several children, one of them with special needs or serious behavioral issues, must feel torn.  All the energy goes to keeping the child at risk or in need together. At some point, though, in a moment of calm, your attention is attracted by your good child who never makes demands on you, always does as you ask, tries to help you care for the sick child, and never ever has your time. You think, "Oh you beautiful child how unfair this all is for you..."

I looked at sweet Argyle and realized he was getting more than the short end of the stick. Rory and Fiona had never bonded with him.  They learned to live with him.  They accepted he is part of our pack, but they never really interacted with him. Toward the end, I would see Fiona cleaning Argyle's face and I'd often them see them laying near each other, but the same can't be said of Rory.  In fact, it was a couple of months after Argyle came that I noticed a quarter sized red, wet, raw spot on Rory's side.

And that took off like wild fire; Rory became beyond miserable with a skin issue that no one could identify and nothing helped.  I became like a Valkyrie trying to heal him.  Eventually, it got so that My Silly Boydog wanted nothing to do with me or anything around him.  He was that miserable and uncomfortable.  And THAT, that was the moment I felt my heart break.  My Beloved Boydog, my Silly Boydog avoided being near me.  Just because I was constantly trying through baths, and potions, and pills, and powders, and oils, and, and, and....he just couldn't stand it any longer and neither could I.

Fiona, my little die-hard was much different.  First, she developed Cushing's Disease which, for me, was no big deal to manage.  I'd had a Cairn Terrier with it so I knew what to expect. Her drug, while expensive, kept her symptoms well controlled.  At its start, Cushing's is really a quality of life issue before it actually begins to effect the organs enough to make it a life threatening disease.

So long as the Bossy Bess got her two square meals, treats, and her bonies to gnaw on, things were good.  Then one day, she began having trouble peeing and there was lots of blood. We thought it was a bladder stone, but when she got to surgery, well, it wasn't that.  My vet called from the OR to give me the news that he'd found cancer. And that moment is when I felt my heart and back break.

There's no cure for TCC.  And, although the scientists at Purdue University are working like Trojans to find answers, any answer wouldn't come in time for our girl.  There are a rare few Scotties who go through treatment and come out cancer free.  Most of the time, an owner only gets a few hard months with their dog before the dreaded day comes.  And, those months are far from quality.  Far from...

Michael and I talked it over.  I called some very close Scottie friends to tell them what we were facing and to ask for their input. And, like I said, I finally offered my prayer of defeat or maybe it was a prayer of final acceptance, and we made the decision.

My husband made the observation, "I think, even though Fiona still feels pretty good, we should send them journeying together.  Fiona would be fine without Rory here, but I honestly don't think Rory could cope with the leaving of Fiona on top of how physically miserable he is feeling."  I couldn't have agreed more with that assessment.  At the same time, I knew my mind would snap if I sent Rory on and in six months or less, was looking to take that final walk with Fiona.  Call me weak, but I just could not do it.  "I think we should send them together; they've spent every day with each other. Let's allow them to take this final walk with each other," whispered Michael. I nodded.

Mike called our vet; he immediately said he thought we were making the right decision.  He agreed to bring a tech with him to our home where we could let them go surrounded by the familiar and loved ones. I said to Dr. Roman, "I'm afraid I'm cheating Fiona out of time."  He answered, "Holly, I think you're doing the right thing here.  Most of the time, we euthanize an animal on the worst day of its life.  It makes it that much more terrible for the family and the pet.  Allowing them to go when they are still a bit happy with life is a blessing."  I won't ever forget him saying that.

The end was quiet and peaceful as these journeys are generally.  I held Rory in my arms and Michael held Fiona.  And all too soon, their time with us was done.  We had them cremated together and their ashes wait, with all my other beloved dogs, to be blended with my ashes when the time comes for my journey to The Bridge.

Why has it taken me so long to record this in a blog?  It's not as if it was my first experience taking that final walk with a dog.  It won't be my last.  I think it's because of the immense impact it's had on me spiritually.  I think the two years of struggling every day with them, most especially Rory, had imprinted me with some form of post traumatic stress.  I didn't want to talk about it, even though I knew there were many kind souls who would listen. I could not find the words to express my feelings and thoughts.  I could not find the way to tell the story without covering every, terrible, harrowing detail of the struggle we'd gone through.  And, if I can't tell a story in a way that is clear and succinct, well, I'm not going to tell it.

So, I didn't write about it here although my friends on Facebook knew what was happening and their outpouring of grief and prayers and good wishes was a true balm to our souls.  It was heart healing to hear how many people had come to love our Scotties through my writings and how we shared them in pictures.  It really, really made clear how people can help immensely while you grieve even though there is so very little they can do.

I didn't write about it, because things on this blog have great meaning for me.  I didn't write about it here because I was simply too heart sick to attempt telling the tale.  I didn't write about it here because I was emotionally exhausted.  I didn't write about it here because I needed a break from all the sadness.  I didn't write about it here because I simply wanted to dwell is some joy with the sweet boy still with us.  I wanted to concentrate on Argyle who so patiently and stoically never interfered or insisted on having his way.  I didn't write about Rory & Fiona's death because I needed to concentrate on living with Argyle and Michael.  I didn't write because I couldn't.

An entire year later, I realize that my not writing about their death has left a bit of business undone. I've not given Rory and Fiona their moment of final glory by articulating how much they meant to me and how much their going has altered me and, hopefully, deepened my ability to care and be a Human Being.

A year later, I find mySelf wanting to record this and thank them for being such a marvelous part of my life.  I write to say how lucky we were to have brought Argyle into our home.  He helped us through our sadness by being with us and loving us quietly without demands.  He adapted quite easily to being an Only Child.  His uncomplicated and sunny personality truly helped me to return to life. He bonded to Michael and has chosen him as His Person.  He loves us both, but he totally loves sitting in Mike's chair in the evenings.  It's been sweet to watch him bloom after the shade of illness, sadness, and sorrow was ended.



The thing about life is that it does go on.  Life does move on, even though many of us mourners resent that it does.  While I don't hate that life progresses, I now realize that grief is not something to get past...it's a process that changes who one is- how one identifies themselves.  Grief is the fire that can deepen our Spirit and expand our ability to be compassionate.  Grief is the price we pay for having been given the grand gift of love.  And, I wouldn't avoid the grief at the expense of not loving.

So life has moved on here at Casa de Frock.  Michael and I talk about Fi and Rory quite a lot and it doesn't hurt us now when we do.  Argyle continues to be a handsome, loving, funny Scottie. He's our sweet Brindle Boy, (Except when the mailman or the UPS guys have the nerve to breach the Scottie Perimeter of Hostility, e.g. come to the front door.)

 And to prove that life rolls on, well almost a year later...

Here is the newest member of our Pack...please say hello to our baby Sweetie Wheatie!  This is Rabbie Burns MacCelti.  He is full of life, energy, and play.  Happily he and Argyle are bonding together nicely.  Argyle is the perfect mentor to teach him manners and how things work.



Not quite four months old and he has a chipmunk kill to his credit.  Somehow, I just know Rory was purring, "Auck, Laddie, ah am sae verra prrrrroud of ye!" While Fiona is saying, "Move over, time to eat!  I just love me some fresh Munk."

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who is Mum to Argyle MacPiper & Rabbie Burns MacCelti