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

Life With A Lion

While it doesn't happen very often, for which I am grateful, there are times when My Lion and I can get heated with each other.  We have our disagreements that escalate into snarls, but generally we see eye to eye and live very companionably.

Not that on occasion, when he might be having a relatively frustrating day, I haven't had to ask a passer-by if they aren't willing to roll his lips back so I can pull my head out of his mouth.

But mostly, with a bit of returning to our corners, allowing both of us to cool our jets, we get to a place where the roaring becomes a discussion and we have the chance to hear each other out.

And peace returns to The Kingdom once again. Why?  Because he is my mate, my beloved, My Lion. A man of conviction and quality.  A man I can look up to and place my trust safely.

But mostly peace returns because I am a smart woman who understands that a lion has to be the King of his jungle. He has to prowl. Must snarl on occasion. And, I know just the right places to scratch and love. He is My Lion. And, I am blessed, even on those occasions when my head is all wet from lion spit.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka A Lion Tamer

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

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

I Don't Know What Possessed Me At Walmart

Yesterday, I was standing in an aisle in Walmart.  Staring at the shelves for something I just knew should be there, but wasn't.  You know that stare...the one where you're looking in your refrigerator, just hoping if you look long enough, something you want to eat will magically appear.  Empty vacant stare  Not seeing what you want.  Wait, is that it?  Yeah?  No, false alarm.  THAT stare.

At any rate, while I was intently looking, to the corner of my awareness came people pushing a cart. My staring contest was slightly interrupted by a youngish male voice saying, "Well that's just stupid, Mom."  To which said mom replied quietly, "Please don't speak to me like that."  I continued staring for my desired item.

The very next statement the kid made was, "Well it is Mom, sometimes you sound dumb as shit!"

And I truly don't know what possessed me, but before I knew it, I could feel my eyes blazing, and I whipped around and to the kid I said, "Excuse me, young man, I do not know you but I will tell you this: don't you ever speak like that again.  This woman is your MOTHER and she deserves your respect.  She most certainly does not deserve to be spoken to like that EVER!  Especially not from you and especially not in public where others can hear your ignorance and wonder about how stupid you sound!!!"  There was a split second of shocked silence...I think all three of us were shocked.

The kid mumbled, "Well, she just sounds dumb sometimes!"  I felt the possession growing as I replied,"You don't get to say that to me or anyone else.  She is your MOTHER!"  He looked down and turned red.

Here's the funny thing.  While I was having the exchange with that kid, the woman standing beside me started to alter her being.  I could feel her energy change.  She was round shouldered and small when this got started, but I swear to you I could feel her shoulders pull back and her head come up and she felt secure...quiet...but secure.  It was so odd to feel that shift.

The kid mumbled petulantly, "I think I'm going to go wait in the car."  And both of us together said, "Good idea!"

I turned to walk away but before I left, I said to Mom, "Please forgive me for getting involved in your private business.  It's just that I know he was raised better than that, and you certainly deserve better than that from him."  She looked at me and said, "Oh don't worry about it, you're right, he was raised better than that."  She never acknowledged the most important part which is that she deserves better.  That's a real shame.

Here's what makes me wonder now in this age when we can no longer truly parent, discipline, correct, admonish, direct, or punish our kids for fear of social or legal retribution:  How do we deal with them when they become so emboldened that they have no idea of the limits?  How do we deal with them when we have entitled them to hold us emotionally and mentally hostage?  Like the boy yesterday in public, speaking like that because he probably knows his mother's not going to take the risk of  lowering the boom and being thought of as a bad parent? How is that in any way fair?!  Just?  How is it in any way good for a young person to have the world cow-tow to them and never get the crap smacked out them for being rude, mean, tyrannical? Why do we no longer believe in taking the immediate, sometimes harsh, measures necessary to gain an attitude adjustment?!  Why is their personal self-esteem more important than their manners and civility?

We become increasingly alarmed at the lack of civil connection young people seem to exhibit.  We bemoan how they all act as if it's all about them with never a thought about those around them.  We scream about the increase in bullying.  The increase in petty meanness.  Yet we don't seem to make the connection between the increase in terrible behavior with the way we have abandoned some basic tenants of parenting! The need to discipline, punish and set limits is a necessary part of parenting.  It's the key to turning a young wild animal into a Human Being fit for living in, and contributing to, society!  Setting limits is part of loving a young Spirit...so is just discipline.  They are actually a form of love just as much as a hug and a kiss.

How did we allow this world to turn the need to set limits, require one to speak in a respectful, civil way, and basic discipline of a young person into a sin and a crime?!

Oddly enough as I walked away, I realized all that time I was in the wrong aisle; I wanted the next aisle over. That's where the hot sauce I was searching for is shelved.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka The Thunder

Silent Sermon Sunday

A few short years ago,

Seven to be exact,

I married my best friend.

I am blessed.

Hope you can recognize that you are, too.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Mrs. Michael Frock

He's Become So Important To Me

 It's funny how some people have a way of entering into you thoughts and even heart almost as soon as you meet them.  He's one of those.  I knew straight away during the first meeting that this is a man who has lived his life as fully as possible, holds few grudges, loves to laugh and make others laugh.  He is the sort who wants you to feel comfortable when you sit with him.

Oh, he is the consummate sales man; was a traveling salesman for years and years before being offered a big job with Hanover Shoes.  Many of the people in Hanover owe him for giving them their first and perhaps only job.  He's well known, and well respected.  He loves the ladies, likes to make them feel special, pretty, necessary.  Likes to flirt, but not in the smarmy, icky way.  He's just the sort of guy you want to give a hug even if you don't know him very well.

He is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. He's had his demons and issues with which to contend. And, as he has grown older, he's grown up and expanded his views on things.  He successfully raised eight children, survived the death of one of them way too early, and now listens to the stories of grand children and now the start of great grand children.

He's battled a significant battle with cancer that has ruined his jaw, stolen his eye, and marred that adorable face.  He's always been a bit vain about his looks; so now he doesn't like to go out much and he feels less than because his looks have been changed.  He is sad about all that he's lost through this fight. But most days, you can still easily see that twinkle in his good eye and he still loves to laugh.  Watching him go through all of this really has been an example of the tenacity of the Human spirit to thrive.  I have come to admire him a great deal through this long, hard ordeal.  And, my sister-in-love, Theresa who has been there every day for him truly gets my applause and admiration for all she's done to bring him this far.  It's been no easy feat for her and her family. 

He admits that he's becoming tired and ready to give up the fight.  He's all right if the Creator calls him home, and proud of all his children have done and become.  He classifies his life as a 'great one.'  And, I think he's proud of how he is still so very important to all of us.

Today, Michael is in Hanover with Dad while he undergoes a major cancer surgery.  This is a big one. It will require extensive removal of his scalp and perhaps part of his face. If we're lucky, the surgeon will be able to do the skin graft at the same time.  If she can remove all the cancerous tissue and get clean edges.  IF.  And, I am here praying and supporting from a distance.  The fact is, while he might be all right with leaving, I'm not.  I've come to think of him as Dad.  He's slipped into the void that was created when my beloved father left the world. 

I'm not usually a selfish person.  I try to put the needs of others ahead of mine.  But, today I can't do that.  Today, Dad, sorry to tell you, I'm going with my wants ahead of yours.  You need to come through this surgery.  You still have stories to tell me, and teases to make.  I need to hear you laugh again a thousand more times and watch that twinkle in your eye while you do.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Carroll Frock's Daughter-in-love

SIlent Sermon Sunday

A Unexpected Gift from Colette & Toni 

Of all the gifts we gain by our 'spin' through life

Friends are one of the most unique and special.

Be sure to thank one of yours this week.

Namaste' Till Next Time,

Holly aka She Who Is Blest With Friends    

Girl Power!

It's been awhile since I've posted about my sweet girls.  And this recent pic sent by Laura is a great time to stop and take a moment to ponder how things are going.

Olivia is no longer a baby...and at four she's well on her way to being a young lady.  The colorful character standing in front is our Ava! 

What strikes me about this snap, isn't the cuteness of the girls so much as it seems you can see a relationship has developed between these two individuals.  It's the magic of the bonding that I find so interesting.  These two have become sisters in spirit as well as by genetics.

How does that magic happen?  Through daily interaction.  Through guidance by the individuals around them.  But mostly by the threads of connection we all share when we agree to come to this earth and share a lifetime with each other.

What I also like about this pic is the sense of fun and attachment to each other the girls exhibit.  But mostly what I like is the chance to share them with you and hope they bring a smile to your face as they did to mine.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Livy & Ava's Great Aunt Hol

Silent Sermon Sunday

It is just as much an act of love to end something,

as it is to begin something.

Namaste' Till Next Time,

Holly

Fiona & Argyle

Argyle has come home from the vet's office in fine shape after surgery.  Slow, a bit groggy and sore, but fine.  I've given him the love and quiet that I can.  Reiki has been flowing to him to help with the discomfort.  He's going to be fine.  I feel that neutering a pet dog is the best thing to do.  Research shows that from a health perspective it's absolutely the best thing.  And, from a personality point of view, it also helps.  After all, who needs a dog that feels, all the time, an itch it can't scratch?!  It has to have a negative effect!

Fiona checked him out closely when we brought him back home.  Inspection complete, she wagged her tail just the slightest bit to say, "Welcome home."  Rory seemed very concerned, in the morning, when we packed Argyle up solo.  It may have been that he knew he was going "riding in the truck," and he wasn't being invited to go along, but I sense it may have been more than that.  He definitely didn't like that we were taking the puppy away.  So, it seems that Argyle really and truly is one of the Frock Pack now.

The change happened in small increments.  Episode by episode.  In barely noticeable ways.  Every now and again, you'd see something to confirm that Rory & Fiona were beginning to accept the puppy, but then there were other moments when I was sure they were plotting his murder.

The thing I absolutely didn't predict was how Fiona would find her mothering nature thanks to Argyle.  Being 10 days older than Rory, she has always asserted her power over him; he has never argued her thinking and tolerates her bossy behavior.   She has always directed Rory, but never mothered him per se.  

I just didn't think she had it in her to be motherly.  I was wrong;  when it comes to this puppy, she has been very matronly in a stern and imperious way, for sure, but that's her nature as the Alpha.  But motherly, none the less.  She's actually been nicer to him than Rory has been, especially the first few weeks.  Rory was very snappy and rough with him.

When Argyle needs quiet time, or wants to know all is right with the world, you'll find him close to Fiona.  And, that's how I found him on the steps with her, patting her softly on the back.  People who do not live with animals, will tell you they have no deliberate thoughts or intentions as we understand Humans to have...

Those of us who live with animals understand what a load of crapola that thinking is...  I watched that puppy softly touch her on the back and stay that way for a few quiet moments before he put his head down and rested knowing she was close.

So I'm writing this one to acknowledge Fiona for being so uncharacteristically good to the puppy.  And, to say she surprised me in a good way by her ability to let another dimension of her true nature blossom.  It reminds me that the same is true for us when we rise to the occasion of sharing our virtues and growing parts that are resting dormant.

I have to go now and sit with my puppy patient who is still sore and wondering where parts of him have disappeared...Fiona is sitting next to him.  She's a good nurse.  I'm impressed.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Mommer

Charity vs. Socialism

I suspect that this blog post may lose me a few readers; I'll have to live with that. Because this is such an intensely emotional topic, I've stayed silent for a very long time. Not because I don't have my opinions, but more because I couldn't clearly articulate my thoughts.

I am liberal in my views about people being happy in their lives and life-styles, but I admit to being fiscally conservative and worried that there is way too much government involvement in my personal life. Trust me, I like money as much as the next guy; day to day living is made easier with it. And, one of the best lines I ever heard about money was from my friend Bernie who said, "While it's true that money can't buy happiness, try living without it!" Amen, sister, Amen.

But as it relates to current affairs, I can't in good conscience not weigh in. Not especially after a flip cartoon has gone viral on Facebook and other places. For me, it's the last straw. So get ready. Read at your own peril.

The cartoon I'm talking about is one of a man speaking with Jesus and he is saying, "But, Jesus if we feed all these people, won't that be so...social...socialism?!!!" Kill me now. Really? Really?? Now we want to bring Jesus into this? Shame! Because most of those who use this cartoon to prove a point against the Unfeeling, Uncaring Economic Establishment, also believe religion is the opiate of the people and will have none of it!

You are hereby put on notice: You can't have it both ways!

Okay, I'll play your silly game: Going along with the notion of "What would Jesus do," this man who fed the masses with the loaves and fishes is also the man who preached very clearly, "Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's and unto God what is God's." Meaning, these two states are clearly separate and both must have their due.

He's also the man who was reticent to do this miracle of the loaves and fishes just as he was to call attention to himself by changing water into wine at the wedding feast at Cana. He did not see it as his place to make global, sweeping changes to the state of things. He did preach that we should all examine our conscience and act on a situation presented to us in order to deepen our sense of understanding and compassion.

The Christ was NOT a socialist; he was not political in any way, (much to dismay of many of his disciples, like Judas, who were hoping he was going to liberate the Jews from the Roman occupation.) What The Christ was, is a highly evolved thinker, and an active thread of Spirit who understood the soul-stretching qualities of compassion, faith, and charity. He taught us that the earthly body and life should not be our only concern and what we should really be doing is expanding our connection with Spirit.

He appears to have been an individual who lived in the world as it was while hoping to grow spiritually from the experiences it offered. He did good works, cured many, provided us with miracles to consider our potential, but he did not insist that the good works be mandated by an governing body. He also said, "The Poor will always be with you." Which means that he understood that all of us at one time or another will be poor, either in spirit or physically. It also means that The Poor are our opportunity to grow our sense of compassion and love by addressing their needs as we can. Or not; it's our individual call.

But, before I go much further let's make sure we're all working with the same understanding of the words socialism and charity.

As defined by Webster's Dictionary:
Definition of SOCIALISM
1: any of various economic and political theories advocating collective or governmental ownership and administration of the means of production and distribution of goods
2: a system of society or group living in which there is no private property b : a system or condition of society in which the means of production are owned and controlled by the state
3: a stage of society in Marxist theory transitional between capitalism and communism and distinguished by unequal distribution of goods and pay according to work done

To my mind, the third definition is what's afoot here. And, if I had not spent time in Russia, I would not understand the impact of that sort of transition. But I did spend time there, and I did see what the years of Communism did to the country. I did hear the tales of what is was like to live in a place where Socialism leads to misery.

As my one Russian friend said, "Yes, the notion of equality for all meant that we were all equally miserable. Contrary to what we were told, it did not make for an elevation in our status as citizens; Socialism lead us all to our lowest common status. Marx and his people were exempt from the horrors of the system they started. They lived well while most of us starved."

When I asked Kira to explain further or give an example she said, "Dalink, do you know why Russians starved and suffered through bread lines? Look around at how vast our country is, there is farmland everywhere. But, we had no equipment and no one would farm it because the Government came and took what the farmers produced, "For the People," and did not pay them. They told the farmers what crops to plant and how much and regulated all parts of their living until the farmers couldn't farm or wouldn't farm because they could not make a living."

She continued, "So the farms went fallow and there was none who would take it up because there was no way to make it work. Now my country must start over again. Almost from the beginning, but there still are few farmers and much more land than farmers to tend it."

Another friend of mine, Ludmilla, still shared her family home with a man who had been placed in it during the Communist regime. I absolutely couldn't get my head around that as she explained, "I cannot get him to leave. I have slowly bought my flat back but he doesn't care because he has lived there for years and has no intentions of leaving. I must pay rent and for food and utilities and all the things that the Communist said they would take care of. Thank goodness Communism is ended, but now I must buy these things and the money is not there. It is very hard to make it work. This man, I have no legal recourse to remove him. If he does not wish to go, I will have to wait until he dies."

Yep, the third definition is the one you should be worried about the most...

Because let's be clear: Charity that is mandated by a government is not charity; it is socialism. A government established program that makes certain that everyone has equal status is not Nirvana, it's Socialism.

As defined by Webster's Dictionary:
Definition of CHARITY
1: benevolent goodwill toward or love of humanity
2: a) generosity and helpfulness especially toward the needy or suffering; also aid given to those in need, b) an institution engaged in relief of the poor, c) public provision for the relief of the needy
3: a) a gift for public benevolent purposes, b) an institution (such as a hospital,) founded by such a gift
4: lenient judgment of others

The word most often associated in these various definitions is, gift. A gift is something that you decide to give to another. It's not a mandate. It's not a requirement. It's not a legal or governmental parameter. It is your choice.

While it might be expected, such as someone might expect that they get gifts on their birthday, if no one gives them a gift, the birthday boy or girl cannot go to the government and insist that they make amends and/or make us give them a gift.

Okay, so now that we're clear on the difference between these two words, let's keep going with this discussion. Feel free to give me your thoughts on all of this, so we all can learn by sharing.

Currently, with the whole Occupy Wall Street efforts, people are attempting to bring into clear focus the growing divide between the Haves vs. The Have Nots. I get it. While I don't agree with the tactics, I'm sure parents felt the same way when I and my friends were out protesting the Vietnam War.

The need for change is always brought about by civil unrest, it seems. Protesting and making public statements is also part of that. So for those who are genuinely there to express their concern and the need for change, good on you. But, let's face it...there are hundreds who are there just because it's a way to vent anger and hatred toward who and whatever. Some aren't even sure why they're there except that it's a happening. Some are there because they don't know what else to do to impact this issue and move things in a positive way.

But, mostly it's about fear and frustration. It's about seeing that others seem to have way more than you do and thinking that's not fair. It's about feeling like David facing off against the Goliath of big business and banks. It's about worrying how you're going to find a job in this crappy economy. It's about bills you can't pay. Or being in debt that you don't want to take responsibility for now that you're drowning. It's about being strapped with a home that's lost a significant part of its value and/or being upside down in a mortgage. How are you supposed to survive? Why doesn't someone do something to help you? What's to keep you alive body and soul?

AND ALL OF THESE ARE VALID CONCERNS, but they're not going to be answered by taking money from those who have it and giving it to those who don't. They're not going to be answered by impinging on the ability for businesses and individuals to make as much money as they can. It's not going to be answered by more government involvement and regulation. They're not going to be answered by the Liberals' insistence that the government Level The Playing Field and give to those who don't have money from those who do.

Don't you understand that when the thought, "The government is just going to have to pay for this because I/we need it," what you are doing is forcing your needs/wants/ desires onto every other citizen? WE are the government. Our taxes are the funds for all of these programs, bail-outs, welfare, student loans left unpaid, bankruptcies, and mortgages that are foreclosed upon.

If you need help, it should be my choice to help you! It's not your right to expect that simply because you need it, it should be provided!

It's about you becoming right with the idea of money and understanding it for what it is. It's about more of us becoming better educated about how money actually works. It's about seeing how the money is made by individuals and organizations. And it's about following the American dream of doing the same. It's about the opportunity to rise UP to affluence and success.

It's about adjusting our thinking about what are truly personal rights. It's about taking responsibility for the financial choices you made and honoring them. The government is not the answer. You are the answer. If you want to be the master of your own destiny, you can't ask the government to step in and micro-manage your destiny when you don't like how it's going. The United States of America was founded upon the principles of opportunity....all of us have opportunity. Some of us run with it and some of us don't. It has little to do with how hard someone's circumstances are and how easy someone else's might be.

If we are so concerned that we no longer understand how to be charitable and seem to be cold and uncaring, I'm with you on that. We, as a nation, are forgetting what it means to be charitable. ALL of us are forgetting it. Not just the ones who have the money, as the Liberals would have you believe. In fact, it's still true that the wealthiest of Americans are giving record amounts of money to charities and causes. But the rest of us? Not so much. "I don't have enough money to take care of myself in this economy! You can't expect me to give money to others!" It's time to rethink this comment.

While money is often the indicator of charitable behavior, it is not the entire answer. Charity of spirit and willingness to extend ourselves to others in any way possible is also part. By volunteering our time. By being a mentor. By being neighborly. By checking on an elderly person who lives near and seeing what you can do to help them. By offering to help a young mother with her children. By offering a neighbor who doesn't drive if they would like to go with you when you go to the grocery store. By hosting a pot luck dinner where everyone brings what they can and many are fed for just a small investment. By doing unseen acts of kindness. By becoming an active member of your community.

We say, "Charity begins at home." That's so very true. For those of us who are loved, we first learn to be charitable by how we deal with those who occupy our home space. We have our parents then teach us what it means to be charitable to those who live near us. We join civic groups; we go to houses of worship; we become a good neighbor.

Oh wait, most of us don't do those things anymore. Religious custom is fading for a vast majority of us. That's fine with me, if you don't want to go to a religious address, but each of us must find an alternative means of connecting with others and become aware of those who are in need. We must find a way to become a charitable part of community.

You have to find a way to develop a charitable nature, not just fixate on financial concerns. We must teach each other what charity means by our actions, not by Occupying Wall Street. And, please, stop looking to the government to mandate your financial security.


This little girl is Merlin. She is Michael's foster child. About nine years ago, a speaker came to the church he attended to talk about their charitable work with children. He decided he would make the monthly contribution to their efforts. Merlin is his assigned child. Very few people, up until I just told you, even know he has done this.

On a regular basis, we get a letter updating her situation. When she was very small, her aunt wrote these letters which are translated into English for us. They are full of small details about how Merlin is a good girl and likes school, etc.

Now, Merlin writes to us about her days and sometimes sends a drawing. It's very sweet. In all cases, the letter is full of statements of gratitude to, "Godfather Michael" for his support and care. In the letter that held this picture, she talked about being excited with her new school clothes!

And, here's the thing that illustrates true charity to me. Michael started this when he was making next to nothing as a new funeral director, (this industry, sad to say, pays terrible wages in general,) and he was paying a mortgage, child support, the rent on his apartment, and all that goes with life.

Still, he decided that he wanted to help a child thousands of miles away because, as financially strapped as he was, her circumstances were much more dire. We are spiritually richer for his decision. Even the months in this economy, when we aren't sure how we'll pay all of our bills, he still honors his commitment to this girl.

The poor will always be with you. It's time for all of us to decide if the fact that we might be economically poor means that we are also going to be made poor in spirit.

Bad economies and world crisis come and go. Your spirit's richness and depth depends entirely on you and your willingness to grow it. No government can make your life better if you aren't willing to understand that being rich has little to do with economics, and everything to do with your ability to care and reach out to others. And, most importantly, your willingness to reach for more and better for yourself, despite the odds that seem against you.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Is Rich

The Season of Remembering

He showed it to me a bit shyly and, uncharacteristically, sheepish hidden in his usual bravado. It sat on the dining room table. He said, "It's for you. I know you like your Aunt Katherine's so I made one for you. It's not the same as hers; I couldn't figure a way to put the snow on it like hers." That was all. He and his crutches walked away.

Back in the 70's, the first wave of interest in painting and fabricating green-ware had become vogue. Aunt Fran was interested for awhile, but really, it was Dad who needed her to drive him to the shop. Long after she quit participating, she drove The King and waited while he created. She was like that- she could be so angry and cutting but when it came to her Little Brother, she'd suck it up and accommodate him.

I was busy with college and my budding social life, so I can't say I really know how often he went to paint his odd treasures. I remember there were others, a bit tacky as far as I was concerned, but this is the only piece that has survived.

It is like the grandfather clock he built because he decided I'd want one. A herculean effort for a man who couldn't bend or move. Though I never asked for one, the clock stands regally in my entrance hall all these years later and each week when I wind it, I think of Daddy. Maybe these creations were Jimmy's way of guaranteeing he'd always continue in some way; I'm not sure what went on in his mind when he decided I 'needed' something.

The garish little tree sat there winking at me with its plastic 'lights' glowing merrily and, at 19, I remember puzzling, "Wonder why he thought I'd want one of these? I never thought anything about Kat's tree!" I was gracious enough to say, "King, thanks a lot! It's really cool. I don't care that it isn't like Katherine's. "

We sat it in the bay window every Christmas. Every year at the end of the holidays, it would be my job to pack it up safely and make sure it didn't get broken. He had paid extra for this one; it has a music box that used to play Silent Night. That's long since stopped working.

As the years have rolled along, I note that the little tree has taken on deep significance. It's one of the things I can't forgo during the decorating. Even now that my desire to decorate the house from stem to stern has ebbed, some years not wanting to really decorate at all, this wee tree still makes the cut.

I wait for the miracle of Dad letting me know he still remembers me, for each year out of the blue, even though the music box is defunct, a few notes will warble out and stop just as suddenly. It always makes me smile, tear up, and I whisper, "I love you too, King."

Often, when I look at the tree, my focus goes soft and the lights become fuzzy as the images of my father grow more acute and clear. It's one of the sacred parts of the Season, this ability to easily conjure the faces of those we have loved and who have moved on. To see them so clearly and richly in a small tacky treasure that has made its way with you over the years.

May you have many moments of remembering and recalling. May they leave you with a smile and the realization that, while it is sad to be without them, you are so richly happy to have had them in your life.

May you have a hushed few moments of grace in this frenzied holiday season. A few minutes when your focus grows soft and distant as you behold the loved festive bit and trinket. Watch the lights and visit with a treasure from your past.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Jimmy Dietor's Daughter

On-Line Dating & Other Anomolies

One of the cool things you notice if you blog long enough, is that thoughts seem to run in cycles. You'll also find that it's not uncommon to have blog entries sync with other bloggers. So, I grinned when I went for my daily laugh at Joanna Jenkins' blog, The Fifty Factor to read an hysterical story about her husband's great idea of hooking up her best friend with an acquaintance of his. She's lucky she still has a BFF. I had this post already in the works when I read her piece and I just knew I had to go with it.

I am a survivor of the On-Line Dating Wars. No, check that; I'm not a survivor, I am a champion! Listen to me here, because I absolutely know about this! And, you know I never lie so you'll get the real 411 on this bizarre topic. You also know you have a friend who could use this tutorial!

While I was on my own, after years went by and I wasn't dating, friends tried to help but most were paired up and didn't know anyone to introduce to me. Every now and again, someone would find a guy and the ensuing blind date left me thinking, "Holy crap I've been friends with her for a thousand years! Doesn't she know me at all?! What did she think the two of us would have in common?!!!" Other than both being alive, I mean. Well, check that, on a couple of those, I wasn't sure the guy had a pulse. It was almost enough to make me say, "No really, I like living alone. In fact I'm taking hermit lessons now! I hope to live that way for the rest of my life."

I knew they loved me and were well intentioned, but it got so I'd quake at the mere notion that they might know someone who knew someone who knows someone for me to consider. NO! So time passed and I still wasn't in a relationship- or even close.

My friends pondered, "Wow, Holly you work at a huge hospital! There must be lots of men, can't you find anyone there?" I would then explain that most of the staff happened to be female and I'm not gay. And that doctors were only available on soap operas but in real life, already involved or married. They'd say, "Oh, yeah, I see...gee have you thought about joining a church?!" How's that for a segue, huh?!

One day, when I'd stalked the bookstores yet again, sitting with my coffee and book, attempting to look fetching so that some guy reading Guns and Ammo, or Gear Head Magazine might look in my direction, I thought, "There has to be a better way!" Getting involved in groups or volunteering wasn't any better.

Going to bars was out; no way that ever turned out well. Going to friends' houses was good fun but Mr. Right wasn't ever there holding a drink and looking awe struck when I entered a room, "Surprise! I've been here waiting for you forever!!!" Nope. Never.

So, I got the idea to look into on-line dating. I lurked for quite awhile before I worked up my nerve and posted a profile with picture and began chatting. I learned that, generally, women are more serious about the quest to meet a partner. Women are looking for relationships, but most of the men on-line are looking for episodes. The guys are on the hunt to get laid or were bored with playing Guitar Hero, or their buddies were paired up and their new women afraid of his bad influence on their newly domesticated men, just wanted the free-wheeling bachelor gone.

Once I learned the basic rules of engagement, it became a pretty interesting exercise in Human watching. And while it had its weird moments, it was also a great deal of fun.

When my friends found out, they sounded the alarm, "Oh my god, Holly, you're not going to do that are you? What if he stills lives with his parents or spends time playing Dungeons & Dragons in their basement! How the hell can you trust any of those men? Most of them are probably lying or married, or who knows what?! " To which I calmly countered, "Okay, so you're suggesting that because the guy's on the computer, he's probably lying, but the guy I meet in the bar who really just wants to get laid, oh, that guy surely can't lie, right? Look, let's be real- if a person wants to lie, they'll lie. The venue is not what makes that more possible. "

When reasoned that way, they couldn't argue. So, I started in-

And, I met a lot of interesting, nice guys. Not all of whom was I romantically, physically, sexually, intellectually interested in. I only met two who still lived at home and that's all I'm saying about that. Likewise, I was not always the gal for some of the guys for whom I thought I was a good match.

Women aren't constrained by geography when it comes to finding the right guy. If we think a guy's a good prospect, we start Mapquesting to plan the fastest route. Heck, some women even chat with men in foreign countries figuring, at the very worst, they'll wrack up frequent flier miles!

But, men? If you don't live in the shed in their back yard, you probably live too far away to consider. You quickly learn that usually, if the guy is willing to come any distance to meet you, he's probably fished out the waters in his immediate area and now has to go to new fishing holes to get lucky. A rare few were enlightened men who knew quality and were not going to let geography get in the way. If distance wasn't a deal breaker for the guy, I knew he was more serious about the possibility of connecting. John was like that; he lived in Virginia and I was in Maryland. It was hard, but we worked around it.

The next thing you learn is that some sites attract more nuts and those who are just looking to get lucky. Match.com was like that for me. Although I hear it's changed now, when I tried it, I seemed to attract guys who started out okay only to have them send pictures of their penis. Is the plural of penis, peni??? After the second time it happened, I dropped the site and demanded my money back...which I got. Men? I know you think your Johnson is the best thing ever, but we females just don't find it that charming as an ice breaker. Got it?

Now, we know I'm not a prude. Don't even play one on television. I'm pretty open to most conversations and topics. I will warn you, however, that when it comes to on-line dating, you have to have limits, stick by them, and call the person on it when they cross your line. But, you have to remain open. With that said, you have to be aware that most guys want sex pretty early on in the dance. So don't get all offended. Don't get all worked up about not being respected. It's got nothing to do with that. It's just the way it is. You have the choice to pass or play along. If the guy is a player, and you don't want to play, tell him, "Thanks but no thanks," and wait for the next bus to come along.

Here's the thing: When I didn't want it, "No," was the answer and I stood my ground and was not talked into it. However, when I decided yes, I had a great time with the ones I chose. Sometimes I knew it wasn't going to be much more than a physical thing, but so long as it was my choice, it worked great. Don't make the mistake of thinking if you have sex, it will open the door to further discovery and interest on his part. That doesn't happen.

If you want to sleep with the guy- do it. But, be prepared that it might be nothing deeper than scratching an itch that you can't scratch for yourself. You're a big girl; deal with it. If you want it, go for it. Booty calls are not just for men, you know!

So here are the rules of engagement: If after chatting on line, you decide you're interested in each other, the next step is talking on the phone. You get a feel for the person by how they sound, what they're interested in, how they approach you and subjects. You should talk a few times on the phone before committing to meet.

Your first meeting- go someplace for coffee or lunch. Those imply a brief meeting. That way, if it's not good for you or him, your expectations aren't set too high and there's less pressure on both of you. If you click, stay and chat for as long as you like.

I never met a guy without the following in place: I always drove to meet him; no having them come to my house to pick me up until I knew them better. I always picked a place where I felt comfortable. I once met a guy at a great bar where I was friendly with the owner who is a burly Greek guy. Gus hung very close by at the bar. Eventually the guy, who I wasn't all that comfortable with, noticed that fact. It was good to be able to say, "Yeah, Gus is a friend of mine and he knows I'm having a meeting with you." Can I tell you? The guy began to behave himself a bit better. Score 1 for me! And, realizing he wasn't going to get lucky, excused himself shortly after. Gus poured me a fabu martini and I spent the remainder of my evening in pleasant conversation with him.

I always had my cell phone with me. You must have a wing-man; someone who knows where you are and can be called on for back up. I always told my sister-in-law Linda, where I was and the guy's name. About a half hour after the meeting started, my phone rang as planned and Linda would ask if things were all right. If they were, I'd say yes, and if they weren't, well, I had an excuse to leave. I only had to use that emergency hatch one time.

Don't be afraid to tell the guy that the call is your family checking on you. If the guy thought it was lame, that was my clue to say, "so long." For the most part, the guys were pretty impressed with my thinking and precautions.

If the man wasn't someone to whom I was attracted, kindly and honestly, I let him know at the end of the encounter. Yes, it's awkward, but it's still more respectful. I said I believed that their time was valuable and their quest was as important to them as mine was to me. They always accepted and thanked me; a few said how refreshing it was for someone to be honest. I behaved the same when it was my turn to be told that hard message. Being graceful in a difficult moment is always remembered. It's a good skill to master.

I'm still friends or friendly with several of the guys. I was lucky enough to work with one who is a professional photographer. Even though he and I were not a romance match, he is a great guy and we worked together very well on a couple of projects. Others, well you can never have too many friends. And, some were great lovers and that's all they were. I remember them all very fondly.

I tried several dating sites and you should, too. Even though you may run into some of the same faces, don't limit yourself to one. Take it seriously, but don't think it's the end of the world if you don't find Mr. Right right away. Guys have more fun with this than women do because they're all right with the process of the hunt. I'd say, stop desperately hoping every encounter could be the one because investing that sort of energy just wears you out after awhile.

Sometime you just need to take a break. Pull your profile down for a bit. Take time off. The second time I was on Yahoo personals, my subscription was just about up and I had decided not to renew it. As a farewell, I scanned the profiles a final time to see who was there that might not have shown before. I even looked at ones that the system didn't pick as a match for me.

And just before I signed out, I happened to come across this guy:

He only lived about 30 miles from me...he was really cute. When I read his profile and got a couple of laughs I thought, "Wow, how come this guy was never seen before and how come the system didn't pick him as a match?!" I looked further and without finding a reason to discount him as a potential, I sent the following, "Nice bike!" That's it, nothing more.

A short time later, I got an answer back, and it went from there. Turns out the guy already had my profile bookmarked and liked what I had to say. He was quite gentlemanly, educated, charming, witty, and you could tell, a bit shy. We talked several times on the phone and made a date to meet for lunch where we ended up talking for three hours.

And that's how Holly Dietor met Michael Frock. We wouldn't have met had we not been brave enough to take our destiny into our own hands and try something that made us a bit uncomfortable. Try stepping out of our small worlds and into the world of on-line dating.

Yeah, you'll meet a lot of odd ones, and nerdy ones, and ones who don't want even remotely what you're searching for. You'll have some sexual encounters that are great fun but don't lead to romance. And, I won't lie, you'll meet some where you think, "Eww, I don't need to do that again."

But all are Human Beings who are doing the exact same thing you are, which is hoping to find the one that makes the world a bit more complete. Hoping to find the one that makes you feel, when you hear them speak your name, as if you are hearing the most beautiful music.

And, if you are serious about it, and open to the possibility....

...you just might get your happily ever after, after all.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Mrs. Michael Frock