Before 8:30 am, it was an ideal Sunday. The sun was trying to poke through perpetual gray sky, the rains of the last two weeks catching its breath; it was almost nice. Almost.
With the echoes of four fatal, senseless blasts, Sunday turned into anything but nice. By 8:31 am, four police officers lay dead in a coffee shop. By 8:32 am, a city, a region, our state, and friends from around the Country watched in horror, unable to comprehend, unaware of tears streaming down our faces, looking for answers where there were none. We mourn, continue that today, and will tomorrow, for a loss to our community, our sense of security, and the humanity for the families of heroes lost. We rage at the system, the hate, and the evil that lurks in the dark. We pray to God. We cry, because it hurts. We seek justice befitting a monster.
Unfortunately, none of it can bring back the fallen four of yesterday, or the loss from three weeks ago in Seattle. Their families forever lost without an anchor.
We can love. We can honor. We can donate. We may never know why it happened, certainly won't understand it, or ever forgive it, but, we can do those 3 things.
The families should know their sacrifice is not forgotten, appreciated, and forever indebted to us all. Though they may have perished, let their memory live within each of us. Let our hearts incorporate their families as ours. Let them know as they protect us from above, love lives on.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
A Shamrock Thanksgiving
So here we are, the eve of yet another Thanksgiving. Since this is my blog, and you were curious enough to stop by, here is what I am thankful for in 2009:
I am thankful to my children, Josh, Peyton, and Kenzie, for teaching me far more than I teach you. You are my backbone, and I love you.
I am thankful to have a wonderfully, dysfunctional family. Mom and Dad, thanks for hooking up that night in ’69, and everything since. Stacy, I love you….truce. To the Texas clan (Uncle Rod, Aunt Yo, Tavia, Gary, Rod and Amy)- I love you, miss you, and GO TECH! GUNS UP! PaPa and Gran Gran, I am thankful for your love and support, though sometimes I probably don’t deserve it.
Grandma Katie and Kimbers, I miss you. I am thankful that I still cry thinking of you.
I am thankful for Ed, my brother- The best friend anyone could ask for. And, Yes ladies, he is single.
Fife Posse- You guys rock! I love you all. Thank you for everything, I couldn’t have made it through these months without you.
Becky, thank you for allowing me to come over daily to be with the kids. Thank you for Peyton and Mackenzie, and being a good Mother to them.
To all my AHS and Facebook family, you have filled me with hope, laughter, inspiration, and Applebee’s quesadillas…..thank you. I love you guys.
Sonja, thanks for kicking my ass to the curb…I needed it. Thank you for sharing your family with me.
Thank you George Strait and Dierks Bentley for poetry I actually get.
I am thankful for pepperoni sticks, Coke Zero, Copenhagen, Wrangler’s big enough to fit my ass, and chorizo nachos.
Thank you God, for giving me talents. I will try to put them to better use.
I am thankful to Muscular Dystrophy Association, Dr. Greg Carter and Phyllis….having useable legs because of your compassion and care is pretty damn cool. Oh, and the Green Card prescription works too! Now, if I wasn’t so chicken to use it.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope it finds you around the ones you love, and ones that love you back.
I am thankful to my children, Josh, Peyton, and Kenzie, for teaching me far more than I teach you. You are my backbone, and I love you.
I am thankful to have a wonderfully, dysfunctional family. Mom and Dad, thanks for hooking up that night in ’69, and everything since. Stacy, I love you….truce. To the Texas clan (Uncle Rod, Aunt Yo, Tavia, Gary, Rod and Amy)- I love you, miss you, and GO TECH! GUNS UP! PaPa and Gran Gran, I am thankful for your love and support, though sometimes I probably don’t deserve it.
Grandma Katie and Kimbers, I miss you. I am thankful that I still cry thinking of you.
I am thankful for Ed, my brother- The best friend anyone could ask for. And, Yes ladies, he is single.
Fife Posse- You guys rock! I love you all. Thank you for everything, I couldn’t have made it through these months without you.
Becky, thank you for allowing me to come over daily to be with the kids. Thank you for Peyton and Mackenzie, and being a good Mother to them.
To all my AHS and Facebook family, you have filled me with hope, laughter, inspiration, and Applebee’s quesadillas…..thank you. I love you guys.
Sonja, thanks for kicking my ass to the curb…I needed it. Thank you for sharing your family with me.
Thank you George Strait and Dierks Bentley for poetry I actually get.
I am thankful for pepperoni sticks, Coke Zero, Copenhagen, Wrangler’s big enough to fit my ass, and chorizo nachos.
Thank you God, for giving me talents. I will try to put them to better use.
I am thankful to Muscular Dystrophy Association, Dr. Greg Carter and Phyllis….having useable legs because of your compassion and care is pretty damn cool. Oh, and the Green Card prescription works too! Now, if I wasn’t so chicken to use it.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I hope it finds you around the ones you love, and ones that love you back.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
100 miles to nowhere.
The song on the CD says it far better than I could ever imagine. I replay it like a hundred times, thinking of you with every press of replay. Little White (The name adorned to my truck) is pointed in no particular direction, every mile one step closer to you; another mile past yesterday.
“I can't wait for this long, hard day to be over.
So I can rest my head right here on your shoulder”
Poetic justice, seeing how it is just as I imagine. Friday nights giving way to Saturday mornings without the need for time, or day planners, or email. Dawn brings soft caresses mixed with admiration as I watch you sleep.
“I just want to lay here and hear you breathe,
listen to the rhythm of your heart beat,
and see where it leads.”
The splash of raindrops against Little Whites' windshield, become the only distraction to what has become a surreal dream. Do you exist only within the boundaries of my mind; alive for only me to see? Love has bitten me before, ravaged my soul empty, left it dead, and I fear this is the same. A particular accomplishment considering your existence is that only of a ghost.
“We're wide awake, and baby, I want to make you close your eyes,
and say my name like only you can say it, sit and hold me tight.
All I need is you and me alone tonight.
I wanna make you close your eyes.”
The song plays on as I close my eyes imagining you doing the same. A horn blasts. I decide to drive on my side of the two-lane highway for awhile. Not sure if its the song causing my heart to race, the dream, or the adrenaline of the oncoming headlights, I drive on. Maybe, it's all three.
“You can make me work for it girl if you want to.
Just leave a trail for me to follow you into the bedroom.
And if you need a little bit of help from me,
Babe, there's not a button I can't reach.”
Let's see where it leads.”
The band picks up pace, but nowhere near fast. The singer smooth but determined; perfect. I can feel his passion, as he describes mine. This is my song, the words a translation of the unexplainable. They head into the chorus again as I imagine that bedroom. Would you be seductively clad only in a white dress shirt? Right now, you are. I figure an imaginary woman can be dressed in anything I want. I choose this. While I am at it, you smell like spring.
“We're wide awake, and baby I want to make you close your eyes,
and say my name like only you can say it, sit and hold me tight.
All I need is you an me alone tonight.
I wanna make you close your eyes.
I wanna take you somewhere
out there,
'til the world fades out of sight.”
This is the moment of dreams, inspiration, the culmination of four minutes, as the band dies down. Now it is only the singer and me. He slows his delivery, as the band fades away. He wants me to know, to understand, to feel. For the hundredth time, I am but a captive audience to the sermon he speaks.
“We're wide awake, but girl, I wanna make you close your eyes.
Say my name like only you can say it, and just hold me tight
Just hold me tight.
All I need is you and me alone tonight
I just want to make you close your eyes”
I come to a literal tee in the road. I face two choices, East or West. My friend on the radio, now done crooning, awaits a replay as I mindlessly head East, figuring it is one mile closer to you.
“I can't wait for this long, hard day to be over.
So I can rest my head right here on your shoulder”
Poetic justice, seeing how it is just as I imagine. Friday nights giving way to Saturday mornings without the need for time, or day planners, or email. Dawn brings soft caresses mixed with admiration as I watch you sleep.
“I just want to lay here and hear you breathe,
listen to the rhythm of your heart beat,
and see where it leads.”
The splash of raindrops against Little Whites' windshield, become the only distraction to what has become a surreal dream. Do you exist only within the boundaries of my mind; alive for only me to see? Love has bitten me before, ravaged my soul empty, left it dead, and I fear this is the same. A particular accomplishment considering your existence is that only of a ghost.
“We're wide awake, and baby, I want to make you close your eyes,
and say my name like only you can say it, sit and hold me tight.
All I need is you and me alone tonight.
I wanna make you close your eyes.”
The song plays on as I close my eyes imagining you doing the same. A horn blasts. I decide to drive on my side of the two-lane highway for awhile. Not sure if its the song causing my heart to race, the dream, or the adrenaline of the oncoming headlights, I drive on. Maybe, it's all three.
“You can make me work for it girl if you want to.
Just leave a trail for me to follow you into the bedroom.
And if you need a little bit of help from me,
Babe, there's not a button I can't reach.”
Let's see where it leads.”
The band picks up pace, but nowhere near fast. The singer smooth but determined; perfect. I can feel his passion, as he describes mine. This is my song, the words a translation of the unexplainable. They head into the chorus again as I imagine that bedroom. Would you be seductively clad only in a white dress shirt? Right now, you are. I figure an imaginary woman can be dressed in anything I want. I choose this. While I am at it, you smell like spring.
“We're wide awake, and baby I want to make you close your eyes,
and say my name like only you can say it, sit and hold me tight.
All I need is you an me alone tonight.
I wanna make you close your eyes.
I wanna take you somewhere
out there,
'til the world fades out of sight.”
This is the moment of dreams, inspiration, the culmination of four minutes, as the band dies down. Now it is only the singer and me. He slows his delivery, as the band fades away. He wants me to know, to understand, to feel. For the hundredth time, I am but a captive audience to the sermon he speaks.
“We're wide awake, but girl, I wanna make you close your eyes.
Say my name like only you can say it, and just hold me tight
Just hold me tight.
All I need is you and me alone tonight
I just want to make you close your eyes”
I come to a literal tee in the road. I face two choices, East or West. My friend on the radio, now done crooning, awaits a replay as I mindlessly head East, figuring it is one mile closer to you.
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