I carry many snippets of early memories in my childhood, but age three was when I began to remember full events...and without a doubt, what I remember is that I was my grandfather's shadow and partner in crime. You see...after I was born my mother dropped me on my grandparent's doorstep...my grandfather became my guardian...on that day began our love affair...We were inseparable...everyone knew that he adored me and I him. He was this huge man with graying red hair...big white teeth...booming laugh and he looked like Chef Boyardee...literally...I never missed my mother and she was never there...so I'm guessing the feeling was mutual. As far as I was concerned, my grandmother was mom...and my grandfather was my hero.
My most vivid memory is of the day that I followed along his immense person to the rabbit hutches to feed what would eventually become dinner...down the road. With one massive hand, he gently held me back and with the other he reached into the cage to feed the half wild beings. One jumped at him and bit the back of his hand. As he jerked his hand back, mumbling fierce words behind clenched teeth, I saw the rich, ruby liquid well up on the back of his hand.....and, I began to cry...sobbing cries...reaching up with chubby toddler hands..."hurt, Grandpa, hurt."
He reached down with his other warm hand and brushed my hair out of my eyes and caught my tears with his thumb. "Would you feel better, if you had a hurt too?" I nodded and he bent over and dripped his blood onto the back of my hand. "Now your hand is just like mine...let's go see Grandma and have her fix our hurts and our hands." We walked back to the house, hand in hand...as I carefully watched his hurt and he watched mine. Grandma washed both of our hands and gently placed a band-aid on both of our hurts. He drank his cup of coffee, with a drop of milk and I drank my cup of milk with a drop of coffee..because "I was a big girl now, with my first big hurt."...our mirrored hands wrapped around the porcelain mugs....
The other night I was cleaning house...emotionally...and throwing out things that were painful and I came across the box that holds everything about my grandfather...the music he wrote...the recipes he used for cooking...his schematic drawings for the house he never built, but wanted to...the Pennsylvania Dutch stencils he used to decorate my grandmother's cabinets....the clippings of things he wanted in life...a drawing of a Spanish Galleon with great sails that he had dreamily drawn on scratch paper...and his prayer book. His hands created so many things...held so many things...they were the early shapers of my life and the pathway to great dreams never realized....
My mother thought he was a fool and a buffoon...a jack of all trades and master of none...yet, he is the one who first taught me unconditional, fierce, unending love. The day he passed...he said his prayers and his hands gently slipped the bookmark into his prayer book...April 24th..my birthday...and he closed his eyes. And...even as I held his old prayer book the other night...it wasn't his face I remembered...but his hands...the great hands of a great man who no one knows and few remember...
He would be so proud of what I am doing with my hands...I am leaving my mark...I am dreaming...I am creating...I am loving...I am so much like him....I am my grandfather's hands....
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Monday, January 30, 2012
Wah...Wah...Wah....
When I was a kid, I could never understand why the adults in the Peanuts cartoons made the "wah, wah, wah" sound, while the kids were able to be understood. I found it annoying and confusing. Now...I'm in my 40's and I see that the cartoon was actually quite realistic. It's not that what adults say is senseless...it's that we have all adjusted our emotional hearing aids...and "wah, wah, wah" is mostly what we hear...until the person says a buzz word that we're listening for....which what we react to....considering that Schultz was an adult, when he wrote Peanuts...it all makes a lot of sense. I still find it annoying and confusing...
After months of trying to get back out there, when I became suddenly single...I found myself asking...constantly....what didn't they understand?...what did I say?...why are they acting weird?...Then it occurred to me this morning, as adults we are issued an emotional hearing aid and we adjust it according to our current issues or needs....For example, you might feel anything...let's say...lonely...so, you adjust your EHA (emotional hearing aid...I'm trying to avoid typing that over and over) to allow a certain amount of static/interference and then you call someone up....They say, "I miss having time available to do things. What are you doing? This weekend I'd like to see a movie...I love action films. Do you?" Thanks to your trusty EHA, you hear, "I miss...wah, wah, wah....you. This...wah, wah, wah...weekend...crackle, crackle...I love...static, static...you." Oh thank God....that was exactly what you needed to hear.
I'm not saying that I'm not guilty of this....oh buddy...I am...but, so is everyone else out there. If you dance around an issue, the other person assumes that all that crackle and static is a dying battery. If you are succinct and terse in your responses, the other person responds in shock, "How could you be so blunt and unfeeling?"... EHA...
Sometimes...your EHA will actually reassemble the letters used in the words...in the sentences....as if what the other person is saying is an emotional anagram...That's how you can be talking on a date and say "I have two xylophones at home" and the other person will respond "I want to have sex with you too..." Then they take your look of confusion as blatant, overwhelming lust....
Shoot...I know that I use my EHA at work...sometimes it's what gets me through the day. Sometimes I just turn my EHA off and stare blankly...waiting to see if the other person is aware that I am hearing nothing. And...I am positive that my EHA has driven my intimate relationships....for better and for worse....I have heard that a person loves me when they probably said "I love the socks you are wearing" and I heard "I love you!!"...I don't know about you...but my EHA adds exclamation points when I'm particularly excited about what I've decided to hear...
This just solidifies my belief that I need to put my EHA in the shop...get some new batteries and take a course in body language....I can't continue in the land of my own delusions...it's tough enough dealing with everyone else's. I just want to be able to have a clear conversation and leave the confusion at home ....what I really feel is wah...wah...wah...wah...wah...great...wah...wah ...with...wah...wah...you....
After months of trying to get back out there, when I became suddenly single...I found myself asking...constantly....what didn't they understand?...what did I say?...why are they acting weird?...Then it occurred to me this morning, as adults we are issued an emotional hearing aid and we adjust it according to our current issues or needs....For example, you might feel anything...let's say...lonely...so, you adjust your EHA (emotional hearing aid...I'm trying to avoid typing that over and over) to allow a certain amount of static/interference and then you call someone up....They say, "I miss having time available to do things. What are you doing? This weekend I'd like to see a movie...I love action films. Do you?" Thanks to your trusty EHA, you hear, "I miss...wah, wah, wah....you. This...wah, wah, wah...weekend...crackle, crackle...I love...static, static...you." Oh thank God....that was exactly what you needed to hear.
I'm not saying that I'm not guilty of this....oh buddy...I am...but, so is everyone else out there. If you dance around an issue, the other person assumes that all that crackle and static is a dying battery. If you are succinct and terse in your responses, the other person responds in shock, "How could you be so blunt and unfeeling?"... EHA...
Sometimes...your EHA will actually reassemble the letters used in the words...in the sentences....as if what the other person is saying is an emotional anagram...That's how you can be talking on a date and say "I have two xylophones at home" and the other person will respond "I want to have sex with you too..." Then they take your look of confusion as blatant, overwhelming lust....
Shoot...I know that I use my EHA at work...sometimes it's what gets me through the day. Sometimes I just turn my EHA off and stare blankly...waiting to see if the other person is aware that I am hearing nothing. And...I am positive that my EHA has driven my intimate relationships....for better and for worse....I have heard that a person loves me when they probably said "I love the socks you are wearing" and I heard "I love you!!"...I don't know about you...but my EHA adds exclamation points when I'm particularly excited about what I've decided to hear...
This just solidifies my belief that I need to put my EHA in the shop...get some new batteries and take a course in body language....I can't continue in the land of my own delusions...it's tough enough dealing with everyone else's. I just want to be able to have a clear conversation and leave the confusion at home ....what I really feel is wah...wah...wah...wah...wah...great...wah...wah ...with...wah...wah...you....
Sunday, January 29, 2012
No Means No....
I took a self-defense course a long time ago and the first night all we did was practice yelling "no." We yelled it at each other...we yelled it at the ceiling...we yelled it at the front of the room....and we yelled it at our imagined attacker. By the end of twelve weeks, I could yell "no," while completing elaborate maneuvers to extricate myself from an attack. I had yelled "no" so much that my voice started sounding like Demi Moore's. In fact, to this day, God help the person that attacks me...one of us will go to the morgue...and it won't be me...Basically, if there's a concrete attack of any kind, on my person, I become the Bruce Lee of white women....
But then, concrete attacks have never been an issue for me....it's the abstract, subtle ones...that leave me whispering "no?" Where was the course that would teach me to say "no" to the things that aren't concrete?...like..."No, honey, I don't want to move to NE Colorado...I think it's a bad idea for our marriage."...or..."No, why don't you drive two hours to my house, instead of my driving to yours twice a week." What about...."No...I don't want to go out with you again, because we have nothing in common."
But, even saying "no" to those things...though difficult for me...is not as difficult as saying "no" to myself. "No...you do not need that person, because they clearly don't need you." "No...that person is bad for you...if they cared they would not punish you." "No....don't be so willing to go to great lengths for him, when he has offered you nothing...except his curiosity."
Oh, there is a logical reason for this...cycle of abuse...childhood victim...never knowing where, why or how bad things would happen, so everything is questioned...including one's own sanity and the validity of the belief that what happened is wrong....didn't I suddenly sound like a counselor? Amazing....This is how I dazzle myself with brilliant rationalizations and rhetoric that conveniently distract me from how I victimize myself...day in and day out...I say "no" and then I say "I really didn't mean no..."
Quite frankly...I don't need anyone to treat me badly...as I actually do an excellent job on my own. The older I get the less that someone has to do to treat me poorly...I carry around a "treat me poorly" package that I give out when it comes to starting new relationships...any kind....and it is a miracle and a blessing when someone enters my life who slides the package back across the table and says "no...thanks."
So...I've put myself in a time out...emotionally...I've sent myself to the bathroom to sit on the edge of the tub and "think about it".....for 365 days....For 365 days, I won't be dating...I can be friends...have conversations...chat...text...email...even meet up for a meal or coffee...but nothing else...until I learn this lesson...until I get it through my thick skull to trust my first instinct...to believe in myself...to ask for what I want...to know what I deserve and except no less...to stop accepting crumbs, when I'm hungry...and to stop negotiating after the final answer has been given...
After all...enough is enough...if I don't cut this out, I will turn this blog around and send me to my room...I already gave myself the answer 'till I was blue in the face....no means no.....
But then, concrete attacks have never been an issue for me....it's the abstract, subtle ones...that leave me whispering "no?" Where was the course that would teach me to say "no" to the things that aren't concrete?...like..."No, honey, I don't want to move to NE Colorado...I think it's a bad idea for our marriage."...or..."No, why don't you drive two hours to my house, instead of my driving to yours twice a week." What about...."No...I don't want to go out with you again, because we have nothing in common."
But, even saying "no" to those things...though difficult for me...is not as difficult as saying "no" to myself. "No...you do not need that person, because they clearly don't need you." "No...that person is bad for you...if they cared they would not punish you." "No....don't be so willing to go to great lengths for him, when he has offered you nothing...except his curiosity."
Oh, there is a logical reason for this...cycle of abuse...childhood victim...never knowing where, why or how bad things would happen, so everything is questioned...including one's own sanity and the validity of the belief that what happened is wrong....didn't I suddenly sound like a counselor? Amazing....This is how I dazzle myself with brilliant rationalizations and rhetoric that conveniently distract me from how I victimize myself...day in and day out...I say "no" and then I say "I really didn't mean no..."
Quite frankly...I don't need anyone to treat me badly...as I actually do an excellent job on my own. The older I get the less that someone has to do to treat me poorly...I carry around a "treat me poorly" package that I give out when it comes to starting new relationships...any kind....and it is a miracle and a blessing when someone enters my life who slides the package back across the table and says "no...thanks."
So...I've put myself in a time out...emotionally...I've sent myself to the bathroom to sit on the edge of the tub and "think about it".....for 365 days....For 365 days, I won't be dating...I can be friends...have conversations...chat...text...email...even meet up for a meal or coffee...but nothing else...until I learn this lesson...until I get it through my thick skull to trust my first instinct...to believe in myself...to ask for what I want...to know what I deserve and except no less...to stop accepting crumbs, when I'm hungry...and to stop negotiating after the final answer has been given...
After all...enough is enough...if I don't cut this out, I will turn this blog around and send me to my room...I already gave myself the answer 'till I was blue in the face....no means no.....
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Rapunzel...Let Down Your Long Hair...
It's amazing to me that as soon as you start saying "it" out loud...anything...it becomes real...you feel unburdened and things start to connect. You know what I mean..."every time (this) happens, I do (this)..." and I've been taking everything very slowly...very slowly...because, I don't trust that my decisions are all positive and coming from a good place. So...when I thought I might cut my hair off...stylish but short...I didn't....
I was in sixth grade, when I was voted onto the safety patrol. I had never been voted on to anything, and suddenly...I was wearing a uniform with white gloves and a bright orange harness with a badge. I was in ecstasy...Every Thursday night, I washed and pressed my uniform...blue pants, white shirt, white gloves....and I polished my shoes and badge. For hours I practiced making sharp turns left and right, or standing at attention, in front of the mirror...and, on Friday morning I leaped out of bed, scrubbed my face, slicked my long hair into a high ponytail and put on my Tutti Frutti lip gloss. No one was prouder than I....
Of course...in my home war zone...my mom was diligent in her pursuit to cut me down to size and my increasing confidence levels had become quite the irritation of her life. One day she had me cornered...I can't even remember what I had done...that was always confusing for me...whatever it was...she asked if I had done it...and...in a moment of confusion and fear, I lied..."I didn't do it...no." She had me....and smiled as she dragged me to the bathroom...in front of the mirror..."We'll see how proud you are now...you're a liar and you don't deserve hair or your safety patrol badge"....and in seconds she cut off my hair...all of it to an inch all over my head...as I stood there staring at myself...The next day she walked me into my class and had me apologize to the entire class for being a liar...tell them that I didn't deserve to have hair and turn my badge over to my teacher...
That was decades ago...but it occurred to me...while I stood in front of the mirror looking at myself....contemplating the short style that I would sport...that she was still cutting my hair off...only my hands had taken over the task....every time I felt that I had failed in life. Failed marriage...I don't deserve my hair...husband cheats on me...I don't deserve my hair...wasn't at my friends bedside when she died...I don't deserve my hair...loss of people because of failed marriage...I don't deserve my hair...can't get beyond two dates with anyone...I don't deserve my hair...financially having to start over....I don't deserve my hair...being hit on by married men...I don't deserve my hair....sweet baby Jesus....I haven't been able to keep long hair beyond one year....ever...It's like I'm trapped in some tower by an evil mother and I keep cutting of my means of escape...my freedom...my confidence...my long hair...stop it...
It's Saturday...I don't have a date...no particular place to go...but I've thrown out the short hairstyle magazine...I just curled my long hair and pulled it up...on top of my head...letting tendrils fall by the sides of my face...I called and left a message for my hairstylist to do a deep condition treatment and trim after my payday....If my hair is an announcement of what type of person I am...then let it be so....I'm growing...I'm changing...I need to give myself extra attention...spend a little more time on myself...and be patient...everything takes time...
And for God's sake...remove myself from that tall dark tower that I have allowed myself to be locked in...it's time...Rapunzel...Rapunzel...let down your long hair....
I was in sixth grade, when I was voted onto the safety patrol. I had never been voted on to anything, and suddenly...I was wearing a uniform with white gloves and a bright orange harness with a badge. I was in ecstasy...Every Thursday night, I washed and pressed my uniform...blue pants, white shirt, white gloves....and I polished my shoes and badge. For hours I practiced making sharp turns left and right, or standing at attention, in front of the mirror...and, on Friday morning I leaped out of bed, scrubbed my face, slicked my long hair into a high ponytail and put on my Tutti Frutti lip gloss. No one was prouder than I....
Of course...in my home war zone...my mom was diligent in her pursuit to cut me down to size and my increasing confidence levels had become quite the irritation of her life. One day she had me cornered...I can't even remember what I had done...that was always confusing for me...whatever it was...she asked if I had done it...and...in a moment of confusion and fear, I lied..."I didn't do it...no." She had me....and smiled as she dragged me to the bathroom...in front of the mirror..."We'll see how proud you are now...you're a liar and you don't deserve hair or your safety patrol badge"....and in seconds she cut off my hair...all of it to an inch all over my head...as I stood there staring at myself...The next day she walked me into my class and had me apologize to the entire class for being a liar...tell them that I didn't deserve to have hair and turn my badge over to my teacher...
That was decades ago...but it occurred to me...while I stood in front of the mirror looking at myself....contemplating the short style that I would sport...that she was still cutting my hair off...only my hands had taken over the task....every time I felt that I had failed in life. Failed marriage...I don't deserve my hair...husband cheats on me...I don't deserve my hair...wasn't at my friends bedside when she died...I don't deserve my hair...loss of people because of failed marriage...I don't deserve my hair...can't get beyond two dates with anyone...I don't deserve my hair...financially having to start over....I don't deserve my hair...being hit on by married men...I don't deserve my hair....sweet baby Jesus....I haven't been able to keep long hair beyond one year....ever...It's like I'm trapped in some tower by an evil mother and I keep cutting of my means of escape...my freedom...my confidence...my long hair...stop it...
It's Saturday...I don't have a date...no particular place to go...but I've thrown out the short hairstyle magazine...I just curled my long hair and pulled it up...on top of my head...letting tendrils fall by the sides of my face...I called and left a message for my hairstylist to do a deep condition treatment and trim after my payday....If my hair is an announcement of what type of person I am...then let it be so....I'm growing...I'm changing...I need to give myself extra attention...spend a little more time on myself...and be patient...everything takes time...
And for God's sake...remove myself from that tall dark tower that I have allowed myself to be locked in...it's time...Rapunzel...Rapunzel...let down your long hair....
Friday, January 27, 2012
Helena's Light
A couple of decades ago, I learned that my youngest sister had given up...she had stopped fighting my mother...she felt alone and lost in despair...and attempted several times to take her own life. I made my way back to everything that I had escaped from to help her...help her leave. She wasn't strong enough to leave and her mind wasn't strong enough to stay emotionally and mentally intact. I am thankful every day that she did not succeed in removing herself from this world; but the girl I knew is quite gone...only a shell remains. She is my first true heartbreak.
The last time I spoke with her, I cried silently on the other end of the phone as she chatted lifelessly about what her life was like. I could see her light had gone out....That night I didn't sleep...instead I wrote this for her....she doesn't know...she's never heard it or read it...I've never shared it publicly. I guess this is my prayer for her...I hope that someday she knows how much I love her....for you my Helen Elizabeth...
Helena's Light: A Fairy's Tale
Long ago, in a land of gold-
Lived all fairies young and old.
In this land, there was no night-
For from each fairy shone a light.
The special light came from within-
Warm, brilliant bright-never dim.
And of these fairies, I speak of-
There was one fairy filled with love.
So, filled with love, she never saw-
Among the fairies one single flaw.
The brightest light from her soul came-
Fair Helena was her name.
With hair of gold and skin like cream-
She was a vision, to be seen.
Though great in beauty, it was her heart-
That truly set Helena apart.
There too was a fairy, name of Faye-
That watched Helena every day.
She had more light than she could need-
Yet, watched her with increasing greed.
Wanting Helena's light for herself-
To keep in a jar, upon a shelf.
Fairy Faye grew cruel and mean-
And soon her jealous light turned green.
Faye's angry heart filled with hate-
As she hid and watched in wait.
One day, Faye flew through the wood-
She found Helena doing good.
"I see what you do, you silly girl-
You think that you can save the world."
"You are so foolish," the cruel Faye cried-
"When you helped others, I know you lied."
Helena's eyes filled with tears-
Had she been bad for all these years?
Faye smiled sweetly at Helena's face-
Doubt and pain in beauty's place.
Faye's plan had worked...she would succeed-
Just one more thing to feed her greed.
Her eyebrow raised, with teeth clenched tight-
Faye snarled at Helena with all her might.
"You don't deserve that light inside-
Your heart is full of foolish pride."
Helena shook...she felt great fear-
This was too much for her to bear.
As Helena looked towards the skies-
All the light left from her eyes.
It swirled around not going far-
Then flew straight into Faye's glass jar.
"Yes, oh yes! What a day!
I've taken all her light away!"
And with that cry, Faye took flight-
Leaving Helena in dark of night.
With the jar held in her hand-
Faye thought the light was in her command.
Before she put the jar upon the shelf-
Faye tried to force the light into herself.
It's not as if she did not try-
It would not stay...she knew not why.
And poor Helena alone and weak-
For months and months, she did not speak.
Her confidence left with her light-
She did not have the will to fight.
No more was her skin like cream-
And when she slept, she did not dream.
The other fairies saw with despair-
She'd lost the golden in her hair.
"Fair Helena," the fairies cried-
"We fear the light within you died."
Helena whispered, "Did you not see?
The fairy Faye took my light from me."
How could this happen? This is not right-
To take another fairy's light.
As they wept, fingers at their lips-
One fairy stepped forward, hands on her hips.
"This did not happen-I don't believe-
Your light 'twas not for Faye to receive.
Helena turned without a sound-
Her lifeless eyes looked toward the ground.
"But-she took it just the same-
And left me here-I am to blame."
"Oh no-the light carried with you-inside-
Cannot in a jar, come to reside."
"It is your own, yours to keep-
It makes you dream, when you do sleep."
"If you believe, you soon will find-
It lives within your soul and mind."
After this, there was a hush-
Not even wind throughout the brush.
Helena, then, did wipe her tears-
And soon a light shone through her fears.
A light that shone so big and bright-
It swallowed up the dark of night.
It shone across the land and sky-
A fire of hope burned in her eye.
Helena stood...her lips apart-
A wondrous song filled her heart.
It was then, that she did sing-
Across the land, the notes did ring.
In the sky, the clouds did break-
And all around, the earth did shake.
The fairies danced in sheer delight-
From the beauty of this sight.
And then from very far away-
Came a frightened cry from fairy Faye.
Helena's light crashed through her door-
And knocked the jar down to the floor.
"Oh no! Oh no! How can this be?
I kept Helena's light for me!"
It was then, Faye understood-
What she had done was far from good.
She'd pushed aside her inner light-
And thought Helena's would make it right.
But, in this, poor Faye was wrong-
An inner light is like a song.
Although the music is pure and sweet-
The notes are not for you to keep.
A light was given to all mankind-
From within your heart, the light does shine.
When it's your choice a light to steal-
You truly lose what yours for real.
Helena's light was much too strong-
For Faye to keep it very long.
And, so it was for sad, sad Faye-
One cruel deed made her light fade away.
The last time I spoke with her, I cried silently on the other end of the phone as she chatted lifelessly about what her life was like. I could see her light had gone out....That night I didn't sleep...instead I wrote this for her....she doesn't know...she's never heard it or read it...I've never shared it publicly. I guess this is my prayer for her...I hope that someday she knows how much I love her....for you my Helen Elizabeth...
Helena's Light: A Fairy's Tale
Long ago, in a land of gold-
Lived all fairies young and old.
In this land, there was no night-
For from each fairy shone a light.
The special light came from within-
Warm, brilliant bright-never dim.
And of these fairies, I speak of-
There was one fairy filled with love.
So, filled with love, she never saw-
Among the fairies one single flaw.
The brightest light from her soul came-
Fair Helena was her name.
With hair of gold and skin like cream-
She was a vision, to be seen.
Though great in beauty, it was her heart-
That truly set Helena apart.
There too was a fairy, name of Faye-
That watched Helena every day.
She had more light than she could need-
Yet, watched her with increasing greed.
Wanting Helena's light for herself-
To keep in a jar, upon a shelf.
Fairy Faye grew cruel and mean-
And soon her jealous light turned green.
Faye's angry heart filled with hate-
As she hid and watched in wait.
One day, Faye flew through the wood-
She found Helena doing good.
"I see what you do, you silly girl-
You think that you can save the world."
"You are so foolish," the cruel Faye cried-
"When you helped others, I know you lied."
Helena's eyes filled with tears-
Had she been bad for all these years?
Faye smiled sweetly at Helena's face-
Doubt and pain in beauty's place.
Faye's plan had worked...she would succeed-
Just one more thing to feed her greed.
Her eyebrow raised, with teeth clenched tight-
Faye snarled at Helena with all her might.
"You don't deserve that light inside-
Your heart is full of foolish pride."
Helena shook...she felt great fear-
This was too much for her to bear.
As Helena looked towards the skies-
All the light left from her eyes.
It swirled around not going far-
Then flew straight into Faye's glass jar.
"Yes, oh yes! What a day!
I've taken all her light away!"
And with that cry, Faye took flight-
Leaving Helena in dark of night.
With the jar held in her hand-
Faye thought the light was in her command.
Before she put the jar upon the shelf-
Faye tried to force the light into herself.
It's not as if she did not try-
It would not stay...she knew not why.
And poor Helena alone and weak-
For months and months, she did not speak.
Her confidence left with her light-
She did not have the will to fight.
No more was her skin like cream-
And when she slept, she did not dream.
The other fairies saw with despair-
She'd lost the golden in her hair.
"Fair Helena," the fairies cried-
"We fear the light within you died."
Helena whispered, "Did you not see?
The fairy Faye took my light from me."
How could this happen? This is not right-
To take another fairy's light.
As they wept, fingers at their lips-
One fairy stepped forward, hands on her hips.
"This did not happen-I don't believe-
Your light 'twas not for Faye to receive.
Helena turned without a sound-
Her lifeless eyes looked toward the ground.
"But-she took it just the same-
And left me here-I am to blame."
"Oh no-the light carried with you-inside-
Cannot in a jar, come to reside."
"It is your own, yours to keep-
It makes you dream, when you do sleep."
"If you believe, you soon will find-
It lives within your soul and mind."
After this, there was a hush-
Not even wind throughout the brush.
Helena, then, did wipe her tears-
And soon a light shone through her fears.
A light that shone so big and bright-
It swallowed up the dark of night.
It shone across the land and sky-
A fire of hope burned in her eye.
Helena stood...her lips apart-
A wondrous song filled her heart.
It was then, that she did sing-
Across the land, the notes did ring.
In the sky, the clouds did break-
And all around, the earth did shake.
The fairies danced in sheer delight-
From the beauty of this sight.
And then from very far away-
Came a frightened cry from fairy Faye.
Helena's light crashed through her door-
And knocked the jar down to the floor.
"Oh no! Oh no! How can this be?
I kept Helena's light for me!"
It was then, Faye understood-
What she had done was far from good.
She'd pushed aside her inner light-
And thought Helena's would make it right.
But, in this, poor Faye was wrong-
An inner light is like a song.
Although the music is pure and sweet-
The notes are not for you to keep.
A light was given to all mankind-
From within your heart, the light does shine.
When it's your choice a light to steal-
You truly lose what yours for real.
Helena's light was much too strong-
For Faye to keep it very long.
And, so it was for sad, sad Faye-
One cruel deed made her light fade away.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
The Human Connection...
In the late 90's, I was working in a completely different field and had my first experience working with someone who struggled with mental health issues...in a word...Autism. I encouraged my place of business to hire a person from a non-profit mental health agency and **Michael came to work for us. His caseworker explained that he was uncomfortable looking people in the eyes, did not like human contact and would most likely not connect with anyone....and it was decided that I would keep my fingers on the pulse of his experience in the workplace.
In keeping with my responsibilities, I came through the back...where he was working three days a week...to make a brief. but focused, stop to check in with him. I was careful where I stood, made no sudden movements and never forced him to look me in the face...but...being the direct eye contact person that I am...I always looked at the side of his face...as he was always turned to the side, when someone spoke to him.
As time progressed, I would ask him on Wednesday what flavor doughnut he liked, so that it would be included in my Friday "thank you" for the staff. He liked the cinnamon twist. Every Friday, I had it placed in the center of the baker's dozen with a small card that said "Michael's...don't touch!". Within two months, it became a kind, gentle teasing opportunity that the staff took full advantage of..."Michael gets his special doughnut on Friday from Mickie..." until one Wednesday he walked up to me...stood in profile next to me and said, "Friday...Friday...it's my special doughnut day...I like cinnamon twist doughnut." "Is there any other kind you would like this Friday?" "No...no...just a cinnamon twist...just a cinnamon twist." And, so...there it was on Friday...with his card...which I learned he had started saving each week...until he had a stack of cards in his pocket that he carried religiously.
The end of summer was approaching and so was his "internship" with us. "What are you going to do when you don't work here anymore?" "I don't know," he said in profile. "I want to go to school." "Really? What kind of school." "The kind you would go to..." I had dropped out of college a long time before to....well...work all the time. But, in my heart, I envied people who had a bachelor's...even though I was making more money than most college grads...and...as if the universe had heard the pure honesty of our conversation...two weeks later, I came across an essay contest to nominate someone for a small college scholarship. I am a writer at heart and I was moved...so, I nominated Michael....here is what I wrote in my essay summary paragraph:
"I would like to say that I have been a positive force in his life; but, truthfully, he has been the positive force mine. He has reminded me what it means to love the work you do...to appreciate, even the small daily tasks that we often roll our eyes about and to take pride in everything. Michael is a shining example of who we all should be...he is never late...he finishes what he starts...he is polite and respectful...he takes pride in his work...he remains poised in the most difficult situations and he appreciates the little things. In his presence, I am embarrassed at what I take for granted in life, and I only hope that one day I will be able to say that I have achieved what he has achieved. It is for this reason that I ask that you grant his wish to attend "the kind of school that you would go to...." He won the scholarship....
The day after the awards banquet, Michael and his mother came into the workplace. "Michael has something he would like to say to you." He walked up to me...arm outstretched..."This angel is yours...you wear on your shirt...it's from me...I picked it out....you helped me go to school...I know it was you...this angel will watch you...make sure you're ok...I won't have your doughnuts anymore...I'm going to school...thank you...can I hug you?" As I struggled to look him in the eyes...and worried about my personal space that I didn't let anyone into...he stepped forward...and put his arms around me..."This is just for you...no one else...no one else can touch this." I was shaking to my core....
Michael....I still have that angel in my nightstand...and when I feel really alone I hold it in my hand and thank you out loud for what you gave me...what I have struggled with my entire life...that human connection...
In keeping with my responsibilities, I came through the back...where he was working three days a week...to make a brief. but focused, stop to check in with him. I was careful where I stood, made no sudden movements and never forced him to look me in the face...but...being the direct eye contact person that I am...I always looked at the side of his face...as he was always turned to the side, when someone spoke to him.
As time progressed, I would ask him on Wednesday what flavor doughnut he liked, so that it would be included in my Friday "thank you" for the staff. He liked the cinnamon twist. Every Friday, I had it placed in the center of the baker's dozen with a small card that said "Michael's...don't touch!". Within two months, it became a kind, gentle teasing opportunity that the staff took full advantage of..."Michael gets his special doughnut on Friday from Mickie..." until one Wednesday he walked up to me...stood in profile next to me and said, "Friday...Friday...it's my special doughnut day...I like cinnamon twist doughnut." "Is there any other kind you would like this Friday?" "No...no...just a cinnamon twist...just a cinnamon twist." And, so...there it was on Friday...with his card...which I learned he had started saving each week...until he had a stack of cards in his pocket that he carried religiously.
The end of summer was approaching and so was his "internship" with us. "What are you going to do when you don't work here anymore?" "I don't know," he said in profile. "I want to go to school." "Really? What kind of school." "The kind you would go to..." I had dropped out of college a long time before to....well...work all the time. But, in my heart, I envied people who had a bachelor's...even though I was making more money than most college grads...and...as if the universe had heard the pure honesty of our conversation...two weeks later, I came across an essay contest to nominate someone for a small college scholarship. I am a writer at heart and I was moved...so, I nominated Michael....here is what I wrote in my essay summary paragraph:
"I would like to say that I have been a positive force in his life; but, truthfully, he has been the positive force mine. He has reminded me what it means to love the work you do...to appreciate, even the small daily tasks that we often roll our eyes about and to take pride in everything. Michael is a shining example of who we all should be...he is never late...he finishes what he starts...he is polite and respectful...he takes pride in his work...he remains poised in the most difficult situations and he appreciates the little things. In his presence, I am embarrassed at what I take for granted in life, and I only hope that one day I will be able to say that I have achieved what he has achieved. It is for this reason that I ask that you grant his wish to attend "the kind of school that you would go to...." He won the scholarship....
The day after the awards banquet, Michael and his mother came into the workplace. "Michael has something he would like to say to you." He walked up to me...arm outstretched..."This angel is yours...you wear on your shirt...it's from me...I picked it out....you helped me go to school...I know it was you...this angel will watch you...make sure you're ok...I won't have your doughnuts anymore...I'm going to school...thank you...can I hug you?" As I struggled to look him in the eyes...and worried about my personal space that I didn't let anyone into...he stepped forward...and put his arms around me..."This is just for you...no one else...no one else can touch this." I was shaking to my core....
Michael....I still have that angel in my nightstand...and when I feel really alone I hold it in my hand and thank you out loud for what you gave me...what I have struggled with my entire life...that human connection...
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
At a Loss for Words...
I'm not sure if it was the day or the fact that I had to explain to multiple people why my last name had changed and answer the question...why did he leave? I believe it would have been easier if I had been allowed to do an interpretive dance to explain...exactly...why he walked out the door. Hell if I know...what am I supposed to say?...If I gave a reason...I'd be making it up....
For half the day, I had a client who couldn't stop talking....while my head pounded...and I found myself constantly wondering why I had been contacted by someone this week (a guy)...I responded and I haven't heard from him since. In case you are wondering...my response was "it's great to hear from you"...how dare I?...how could I say something so inappropriate?...I obviously should have kept my mouth shut....
During a fit of silent boredom, I signed on to a free dating site...it was the laundry or a new dating site...I should have chosen laundry. This morning I had 36 new pictures sent to me...seriously...they all looked like serial killers...seriously...I was speechless. Half of them were close to twenty years older than me (I'm in my forties..you do the math) and one was...I'm pretty sure...Santa Claus....I don't know where Mrs. Claus was when he was emailing me...but she must have been with a couple of the elves...uh...talking with them. The prize winner was the guy from Greece who sent me a picture with a gal swimming behind him....I responded....and I'm pretty sure it was her email address...unless his name is Susanna...I didn't even know what to say....but I bet she's saying a lot right now....
Even after I got home from work...I didn't know what to write in my blog tonight. No one was really talking online and my cats barely had two meows for me. It's not that I'm depressed or down...I think I'm past that...I'm not even sure that I'm introspective today...I think I just feel wordless...and when I stop talking I have these riddles swirling in my brain...and they're driving me crazy...because I can't answer them....I can't sway anything with my words...it's like I'm talking gibberish and the universe is holding all of my cards....
All of these things are happening around me and I seem to have no say in it....at least for now....I'm thankful to be past the period of damage control...but I would like to have the opportunity to voice requests for my new life. Maybe...that's where the problem lies...I don't have any answers yet...just band aids...maybe the universe is saving me from requesting idiotic things and sending myself into ruin...maybe my choices...right now...would share an odd parallel with Rainman...maybe I'm an idiot savant...minus the savant part....maybe just for this moment in time...but...maybe...truthfully...all I can come up with for my list of what I want is to grow my hair long...
Maybe what I'm struggling for right now is direction and that doesn't need talking to happen....maybe I do too much of that on a daily basis for the people I help and I wouldn't listen to my own words anyway....What can I say? Maybe...just maybe....it's a blessing that I'm at a loss for words....
For half the day, I had a client who couldn't stop talking....while my head pounded...and I found myself constantly wondering why I had been contacted by someone this week (a guy)...I responded and I haven't heard from him since. In case you are wondering...my response was "it's great to hear from you"...how dare I?...how could I say something so inappropriate?...I obviously should have kept my mouth shut....
During a fit of silent boredom, I signed on to a free dating site...it was the laundry or a new dating site...I should have chosen laundry. This morning I had 36 new pictures sent to me...seriously...they all looked like serial killers...seriously...I was speechless. Half of them were close to twenty years older than me (I'm in my forties..you do the math) and one was...I'm pretty sure...Santa Claus....I don't know where Mrs. Claus was when he was emailing me...but she must have been with a couple of the elves...uh...talking with them. The prize winner was the guy from Greece who sent me a picture with a gal swimming behind him....I responded....and I'm pretty sure it was her email address...unless his name is Susanna...I didn't even know what to say....but I bet she's saying a lot right now....
Even after I got home from work...I didn't know what to write in my blog tonight. No one was really talking online and my cats barely had two meows for me. It's not that I'm depressed or down...I think I'm past that...I'm not even sure that I'm introspective today...I think I just feel wordless...and when I stop talking I have these riddles swirling in my brain...and they're driving me crazy...because I can't answer them....I can't sway anything with my words...it's like I'm talking gibberish and the universe is holding all of my cards....
All of these things are happening around me and I seem to have no say in it....at least for now....I'm thankful to be past the period of damage control...but I would like to have the opportunity to voice requests for my new life. Maybe...that's where the problem lies...I don't have any answers yet...just band aids...maybe the universe is saving me from requesting idiotic things and sending myself into ruin...maybe my choices...right now...would share an odd parallel with Rainman...maybe I'm an idiot savant...minus the savant part....maybe just for this moment in time...but...maybe...truthfully...all I can come up with for my list of what I want is to grow my hair long...
Maybe what I'm struggling for right now is direction and that doesn't need talking to happen....maybe I do too much of that on a daily basis for the people I help and I wouldn't listen to my own words anyway....What can I say? Maybe...just maybe....it's a blessing that I'm at a loss for words....
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