The Gem in my Hotmail Junkbox

From Hospital,

With Due Respect, I am writing this mail to you with heavy tears in my eyes and great sorrow in my heart. My name is Mrs Karen Wright from Chile; my husband Parker Wright worked with Chile embassy in Malaysia before his death, we were married for 32years without a child and He died after a brief illness that lasted for only few days. I decided not to remarry or get a child outside my matrimonial home which my religion is against. When my husband was alive he deposited the sum of $5.5Million USD with one of the bank here.

Recently I have my test report that my liver has been damage due to cancer affection. The one that disturbs me most is my stroke sickness. Having known my condition I decided to donate this fund to help the orphanages around the world through you the way I am going to instruct here in. I want you to use this fund to help the Orphanages, widows, les-privilege to have there life’s a meaning, and to endeavour that the house of God is maintained. I took this decision because I don't have any child that will inherit this money and my husband relatives are not good at all because they are the one that killed my husband in other to have my entire late husband properties and I don't want my husband's efforts to be used by unbelievers. I don't want a situation whereby my husband inheritance will be used in an ungodly way.

Please assure me that you will act accordingly as I Stated herein.

Hoping to receive your response immediately

Mrs Karen Wright (widow)

****

Poor Mrs Karen Wright! I have so many questions to ask before I help you:

 1. I know you are a grieving widow but did your husband die of a "brief illness" or was He murdered   by his family? There's a big difference here, Mrs. Wright, and the latter involves police, courts and most likely jail time (or whatever sort of justice system you have down there in Chile).

 2. Where were you considering getting a child outside of matrimonial home? The local NICU?

 3. Sorry about your liver but clearly cancer loves it. Truly, cancer is affectionate in that way.

 4. Why would you spend $5.5 million USD to endeavour that the house of God is maintained? 

 5. Do you even know what bank your husband deposited that money? Because that actually seems like the place you should start searching. I don't know what year you were born but there are A LOT of banks now, just FYI (From Your Igloo).

Please assure ME that you will answer accordingly as I STATED hereafter. And please, Mrs Karen Wright (widow), take your meds!!

    

Book Review Alert!

In AA circles (so I have learned), the "next right thing" is whatever you need to do to get through the next part of your day. The "thing" or the action that helps you overcome your addiction. It is also the title of Dan Barden's newest novel and what I suggest you do if you haven't already picked up a copy. Barden's protagonist is Everyman, Randy Chalmers, an ex-cop with a drinking problem and anger issues that he doles out in explosive tantrums like a toddler not getting his way.  But Randy is especially pissed off because his AA sponsor, Terry Elias, has turned up dead in a hotel after ODing on heroine and this is NOT one of the 12 steps to recovery. Randy is on a mission to understand why Terry is dead and all kinds of crazy shit is going down in Laguna Beach.
Whether you've had an addiction, known someone else who is suffering with one, or if you have a heart beat, you should read The Next Right Thing. You'll be entertained and more.

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow...

          After we had our first son, T, we moved to Portland when he was 18 months, I was drawn to the weather reports like moths to the light. Was it going to rain all day? Was I going to be sequestered – INSIDE – with a toddler? Weather reports became my daily affirmation or punishment. My destiny waited and the long span of existence trapped with a little person would once again be decided in numbers and images of clouds. Maybe I was a bit depressed or just in shock. Before we moved to Portland, I was a working woman. My life was not about making it to 5:30pm when my husband walked in the door. My life felt more about hosting parties and celebrating life with girlfriends and taking long walks with my significant other. I spent weekends in Chicago shopping and running along Lake Michigan. For 35 years I had been living for myself, trying to learn to grow up and be a good worker and a friend and a partner. Having a child anchored me in a good way, though, and I just had to learn to juggle getting a shower, daycare drop off and finding time to eat. Just as I had not remotely learned to balance any of this, we moved. I quit my job. Suddenly, I was in a new town with a small boy who I had no idea what to “do” with day in and day out. Life felt crazy and stagnant at the same time as if my life had died and was replaced by aliens.

After we had moved to Portland, my new job as a stay-at-home mom included a daily search to seek out other moms. I found an ongoing Tuesday morning group and I’d stare deep into their eyes wondering what their perspectives were of life with children. Was this fun? Was this interesting? Those moms all seemed content to be discussing babies: nursing babies, changing diapers, the best wipes, age appropriate toys, music classes, food prep, allergies. This was not what I wanted to discuss: sleep deprivation, how boring this felt, how frustrated my 18 month old was and how lost I felt in this decision to have a child and not be sleeping or doing things that I enjoyed, living in a new city with no friends. Their lives were the life of this little person and I felt so alienated for feeling differently. I felt like a fraud. I dreamed of getting a hotel room for two nights and just being alone. Left alone to sleep and think and cry and make phone calls and lay there. I was so tired. This little boy never slept well until he was five and had dropped naps by the time he was three.

         Sleep deprivation spread out for hours because T had woken up at some ghastly hour of 5am ready to be grumpy and challenging and make the day even longer. No gatherings start for stay at home moms until at least 10am. I was often done with breakfast for T and I by 6:30am. It was cloudy and cold outside and unsuitable for walks that early. He didn’t watch shows yet, though I stared hard at the Today show while clutching my coffee and wiping tears from my eyes hoping he didn’t notice. He didn’t. 

Mountains vs. Oceans: This Time It's Personal!

 Another beautiful day of sunshine here in Bend? Can’t believe how peaceful it is to live down here. At least once a day, as I'm driving/fiddling with the radio or speed walking with the kid/stroller/dog, I turn a corner and there’s a different angle on a damn mountain. It’s humbling to live among these big ass mountains. I like how it makes me feel: settled and concrete and aware of my surroundings. 

Mountains are permanent. I am not. That notion (that my little world is fleeting) makes me nervous at times. Mountains kick the shit outta my worry.  Whereas, when I’m at the coast, the ocean is fluid like me and therefore I feel more distracted around water. I never grew up anywhere near a large body of water and its novelty, I believe, will never wear off. Getting to stare into the ocean or be close to it takes on an event all its own. Suddenly I can’t read a book because I’m just staring into the sea. Watching how the waves lap and roll back out. Wondering when I should get back in or if I should just sit and continue to stare. (If I'm in Mexico, should I buy another blanket or a bracelet?) 

But mountains are a period. The end to the sentence, a declaration of finality. Oh! Shit! Look at Mt. Bachelor (didn’t see that one coming!) And I’m so small and my kids are even smaller and we are so frail and finite and suddenly “big” problems seem ridiculous in comparison to the size of even one of those mountains in the Cascade Mtn. Range. It’s like a reminder to shut the fuck up and get happy with the now (and finish the task at hand!).

Thanks, Mountains!

A Nod to the Ladies

We choose our friends because they remind us of what we can be and who we are and the choices that we make. They are our idols and our playmates, our heroes and sometime soul mates. For female friendships, the mere presence of another woman that knows you helps to reconfirm. This reconfirmation of our Self provides the strength that women need to move back through their own lives and accommodate the needs of others and the myriad of daily requests that are put on us by our children, husbands, co-workers, and even parents and siblings. As in the practice of yoga, we return to our mats to let go. To practice the art of letting go. We return to the warm embrace of friendship in order to reaffirm our position in the universe. After spending time with good friends I can see more clearly. I can be more patient with my children and show them more compassion, too. Though it could sound dramatic to put so much weight on the power of female friendships, I feel that there is so much involved when women stand together. We can change the world. 

Happy (Daddy) Day

Happy Father’s Day, 2012!

Our almost two year old started to put words together this past month so instead of “milk” it’s “milk, please” (or milt peas). Yesterday, he said “happy day” – loud and clear. To this day, I don’t know if I’ve heard a better sentence spoken in human language. Happy day. It’s so true. It’s so clear and accurate of a description I have to use it myself. I also want to apply it to this upcoming Father’s Day when we get to say thank you to dads but especially my baby daddy.

After all the stress and concern that surrounds the health of our second born, after the long nights in the hospital, prepping him for MRIs, remembering his daily dose of medicine and trying to process the look on the faces of our medical team, I just want to say to my hubby: Happy Day.

This one is for you. Thanks for your constant support and focus on the task at hand, however sleep deprived you were. For taking son #1 to play golf and to the park and out for ice cream and crappy (but fun!) fast food restaurant toys. Thanks for listening and crying with me (if your boss reads this I’ll say it was only a couple of times) and for committing deeply to loving our sons. Our sons. Our lives. The saying no to golf with pals and yes to Legos.

Happy Day, Co.

Ah, life, an evolutionary process.

Greetings from my new blog look. It looks different, I know. It represents the fact that I'm not in such a dark place as I was upon first creation of my place on the WWW. This one is supposed to be entertaining but I hope you comment and provide feedback and I hope I write more...shall we pinky promise?

Thanks for reading. Check back soon...