Steve Jobs, you will be missed,...

It's not everyday we lose a visionary, in the truest sense of the word. Say what you will about Apple, but Steve Jobs took a faltering company, instilled his vision, and created something far beyond a success. His vision, his drive, his tenacity helped to drive Apple to the pinnacle of the business world. I wish I had the opportunity to have met him. He has left us now, his body free from the disease that took him from us. He is no longer in pain, he no longer suffers. He is free. We have lost the visionary, pray we, as a society, never lose the vision.  Steve Jobs, thank you for your gifts, your genius and your vision will be sorely missed,....

Fear Of The Known

Was an interesting weekend. Went to a party and didn't get home 'till 4am. Yeah, I know, but I had fun, so stop it. But the weekend offered me a glimpse into how far I have come, and have to go.

I've been a bit depressed for the past few days. I'm seeing so many friends finding people to meet and date, fall in love with, things like that. Please understand, I am very happy for my friends, I want only the best for them, and for them to find happiness. I guess that I'm realizing that I am, well, I'm lonely. I used to differentiate between alone and lonely. Not anymore. I'm both. The reason I bring this up is because I'm not only realizing it, I'm getting out more, trying to meet more people, trying not to be lonely. It got me to thinking about other decisions I had made back when I was not well, wondering if I was trying to find my way, or running from something,....

I have been doing quite a bit of thinking this weekend. Trying to answer the big questions; am I happy where I am, doing what I'm doing. I know it's my decision to be where I am, and to do what I do, but it's also my decision to be happy, too. I know I want to move back to California, I just miss it so much. Of course, I would miss my family, and they would miss me (or at least I hope they would; that's a small joke, please move on). But when I was back in California last year, I was happy, being around my friends, being in California, visiting Idyllwild, everything. But, I convinced myself that for some reason or another, this situation was what it was. I know now that I need to take steps and make steps to change this, if it is that important to me; I now know that it is.

I've been confused these past few days, and feeling sorry for myself, which helps to make me more depressed. But, for me, this is where it gets scary. Through all of this, I heard a voice in the back of my mind. It just kept bugging me, beckoning me......"Why don't you just go back to the way it was? You didn't care if you were alone, it didn't hurt to be alone, it was fine. Come on back, all you need to do is come back. It's easier, it's comfortable, you know this. Come back, just come back,...."

And I thought, it was easier, comfortable, known. I didn't care if someone could ever love me again, or find me attractive, any of that. It was a comfortable place to be. I could see the draw, the seduction of where I was. How much simpler it was. And then, another thought entered my head with the strength of a Mack Truck hitting you right in the face;

"ARE YOU F%&KING NUTS?!? OH, HELL NO!!"

I thought about the progress I have made. How much better I felt. How my friends and family were so proud of me, as I was of myself. The good decisions I have made, and continue to make. The changes I have made for the better. I realized that it won't all happen at once. I also remembered what my sister told me after that day in the hospital, when I became unresponsive and scared everyone; "If you ever scare me like that again, I will stand on that hospital bed and kick you in the face until you wake up!!' I still don't know how she would do that, but she assures me she can. Motivation, indeed....

So, there I was. I had faced my greatest new fear. I was afraid that I would make all of these positive changes, only to regress. I made a vow to my family, my friends, and myself, that I would NEVER go back to that. And, I meant it. I'm sure this will happen again. And I will remember this weekend, and the feeling that I had. And I will remember that the things that depressed me will haunt me, but I will defeat those feelings , with God's help, and my determination.

What really scared me about this was I actually considered reverting. So, I took some time to chat, text, visit friends, and it was good. I was also testing the waters of finding a deeper relationship; that didn't go so well, but I learned something about myself. My friend's happiness means so much to me. It can't be defined with words, just a feeling. That's my role right now, that's what I have to get better at. Being there for people, helping, caring. My time will come. More importantly, I found that when I care for others, I care for myself. It works hand in hand. When they get better, I get better. Granted, I would like more, but it's the Big Guy's way of saying that I'm not ready yet. But, I feel He is getting me ready for that special someone. For now, I must embrace that and own it. When it's my time, it will be right. Just have to be patient,...

It sucks to be lonely. I don't wish this on anyone, myself included. My heart was hurting all weekend long because of lonliness. Yes, I am lonely. I admit that. But, I cannot let that lead me to bad decisions. Yes, my heart will continue to break, but I am around to pick up the pieces and heal. I stated once, I will state again; given the choice, I would much rather have a heart that will break than a heart that will never feel.

Okay, I feel much better now. So, how was your weekend?

A Hero's Heart

Sitting alone, weapon in hand,...
a battle forthcoming.

A soldier risks it all;
family, friends, themselves,
to do the job required of them.
Such a momentous task,
with so few returns;
clothes, some pay, food,
and, sometimes,
little to no recognition.
And it's time that changed,......

I am able to sit and write
a note of thanks
because all soldiers gave
their most precious gift;
they gave their all,
so I may try to find a way in words
to thank them for their sacrifice.

As I write this, I sit and think
how a person could so readily give
that part of themselves for
our freedom. I feel inadequate
for I feel their calling is far beyond
my comprehension.

The best that I can do
is offer to the soldier,
the hero,
these small phrases;

-God bless all of you.

-Thank you for your sacrifice.

-This country is better off with you as our guardians.

-May you all come home safe and soon.

May all of our heroes know
that we are grateful,
and that they be treated
with compassion and understanding.

A man sits in his room, crying,
trying to find a way to say
Thank You
to all our troops so far away.......

The True Test Of Strength

My tears flow from the pain
you caused when you left.
Each tear, a blow,
each memory, a slap,
knocking my heart down,
keeping my soul bound,
because you are already gone,
and I am still here, fighting
to get up......

My mind races from the emptiness
I see in my closed eyes.
Each thought a kick,
each encounter a punch,
keeping me from my senses,
blinding me from the truth,
because you have moved on,
and I am still here, trying
to start anew....

My heart starts from realizing
there is no going back.
Each day a lift,
each friend a gift,
bringing me back to life,
shining bright in my heart
and lighting my soul.
It will always hurt in some way,
but I begin the steps
of my new life,...

My thoughts are clear, my life
comes into focus.
Each breath an reminder,
each second realizing
my newfound strength in me,
growing in heart and mind,
making each day special.
My life now is more precious
than the pain I felt when you left.
I can now move on,...

because Broken Hearts mend,
forever stronger and better.

I am free,...

It is over.

My prison of skin and bones and blood

no longer hold my soul.

I am energy, I am spirit,

I am free....

I rise in the light of the Sun,

up from a bed of clouds

and I am free,

to run, to jump, to fly,

to stop, to see, to watch,

to dance, to hug,

to be hugged

by those who were here before me

and those who follow;

we are all free,....

An eternity

free from pain and fear

and sadness,

of lies and deceit

and hate,

of misery and melancholy.

I close my eyes

and reach out with my heart

and await the moment

I see Him,..

I smile

into the Sunlight

and He smiles back to me,

He comes to me and holds me in

His arms,

He comforts me in our warm embrace,...

　

　

...and I am free.

I am eternally free...

　

Spookie

      I've always believed that pets make your world much more comfortable and liveable. To be sure, pets require much attention and maintenance, but they give so much more than you put in. There is, however, one major, and I mean major, drawback; the day when you have to decide the last days of this creature, or creatures, that have given you so much love. I have had to make this decision a few times. The first time was the day that I officially became an adult.

      When I was still in high school, I was working two jobs on the weekends; at Gray's Photo Shop and The Alpine Pantry. One day, between jobs, I happened to stop by the Village Market in Idyllwild to get something to eat. As I walked to the entrance, there were two kids with a doctor's satchel. As I got near, the little girl asked me if I wanted a puppy. My parents were in Riverside, CA at the time, so I couldn't call them to ask, so I did the only thing I could do. I looked into the satchel, and I saw this black and brown mass cowering inside, looking so pathetic. For those of you who know me well, yes, that was enough. I called my friend, Janice Mikuls, and asked her to drive my new puppy to my house while I walked to work.

      As I was washing dishes at The Alpine Pantry, I got a call from my dad. He was not happy. There was this new being in his house, he was not asked permission, and he let me know about it. I did the usual teenager "I'll walk/feed/wash/take care of her" diatribe, but that did not calm him down. He really was not happy. When I got home, he still was not happy. But, he relented, and decided to let me keep her. But, we still did not have a name. Ironically, my dad ended up naming her. One day, my mom was vacuuming the house, and our new pet was very scared of the machine, to the point that when my mom turned the vacuum cleaner on, the dog would run as far from it as possible. My dad, seeing this, announced, "That Godd#@ned dog is acting spooky!!" I really didn't like the spelling, so I changed the "y" to "ie". Spookie was now a member of the family. And she turned out to be a great pet.

      A few years later, I left for college, and Spookie stayed behind. Mom and dad took care of her. I'd come home, and Spookie would be there. At this point, mom and dad had grown accustomed to her; I actually think they loved her, even dad. He comes off gruff, but he's a teddy bear inside. When I came home after being suspended from college and not finding gainful employment in Oregon, I got a small house for me and Spookie. Now, I was taking care of her. I was happy, because she was still a family pet, and I lived next to mom and dad. We stayed there for a while, then found another place to live, even smaller, but nice. We were there for about three years. Then, things started to get bad, for Spookie, then, ultimately, for me.

      Spookie started getting tumors on her legs and torso, and they were painful. She was steadily slowing down, sometimes even to a crawl. She was limping, struggling to get around. Her eyes were becoming glassy, she was struggling to see, too. We all tried to help, but soon, it would get worse.

      After a time, she seemed to improve. Getting stronger, walking better, but this did not last long. Soon, she could not walk outside to go to the bathroom. She would not eat. She barely moved. At times, I was so frantic, I would crouch down in front of her trying to feed her, or yelling at her to eat, or do anything. She was scared, but so was I, because I knew what all this meant and what I would have to do. I kept trying to put if off, but I soon realized that Spookie would not get better. So, I had to make a decision. One that I did not want to make, but she was mine, and it was up to me.

      I called the local vet, and asked some questions, not really sure why. I knew what I had to do. I just didn't want to do it. But, I soon realized that Spookie was in pain, terrible, crippling pain. I loved her too much to let her suffer further. I didn't have a car, so I called my brother Tony, who did. I told him what I needed to do. He was over to my house, ready to assist. We got Spookie, got in his car, and took the longest one mile drive ever.

       I got to the vet, and was met by the receptionist. I told her I called earlier, and she was very helpful. She got me, Tony and Spookie to a room. I put Spookie down on a cold, steel table. We stood there for a few minutes, when the vet came in. He told me what would happen, and how. It all seemed so surreal, so unreal. I felt like I was watching a movie, or really hoping I was. I didn't want to be here, I didn't want to do this. The doctor then went to get the "equipment", and began the process. Tony asked to leave the room; I don't blame him, I wanted to leave, too. But, I had to stay for Spookie. As much as I wanted to leave, I had to stay. So, the doctor gave Spookie the shots, and said it would be over soon. I asked if I could stay with her until the end, and he said yes, and even left just before it was over.

      I could see Spookie drifting away. It was almost over. But, before it was over, I took her head into my hands, gave her one last kiss on the forehead, and looked into her eyes. I watched as the last signs of life left her hurting, pained body. Maybe it was me looking for some signs of validation, but as I looked into her eyes for the last time, I think I saw a glimmer of gratitude, as if she was glad to be without pain. And then, she was gone. I was a mess. I was inconsolable. The receptionist, who I was familiar with, watched as I came out of the room, and just came up and held me. No warning, no asking, no telling; and I was so grateful. That was what I needed right then.

      Tony then helped me to the car, and drove me home. As I was getting out, he said, "Stay here, give me a few moment." He opened the trunk of his car, got my house key, and went in and took out Spookie's blanket, food, bowls, everything in the house that was hers. He put all of that into the trunk, gave me my house key, and said, "You can go in now, I'm done." I never asked him, but I thanked him. I didn't want to deal with that, and I am so glad he did.

      I went into my empty house. It felt empty. My friend was gone. And Tony took everything that would remind me of Spookie; except for the space where she slept. Next to my dresser, right by the heater. All her stuff was gone, but her space was still there. I went to her space, crumbled and cried. Eventually, I fell asleep. I woke up about an hour later, still uncontrollably saddened. Fortunately, I was off this day and the next day. I wouldn't have been able to work. After a bit, I was able to get up and get some things done, clean, eat, call my parents, let them know about Spookie. They all left me alone, because they knew that was what I needed.

      The next day, I had to do laundry. I didn't want to, but it needed to be done. I walked to the laundromat, and as I was folding my clothes after washing and drying, I saw my brother drive up. And out of the car came my sister April, crying. She ran to me and we held each other. I told her it was alright, it was best for Spookie, things like that. For some reason, I didn't believe it. To this day, sometimes, I still don't.

      I often think back on that day and wonder if I did the right thing. Many people have told me that I did, it was best for Spookie. I think sometimes, though, that I could have done more for her. I get so confused and angry about my decision. Whether I should have done something else, done more, the like. I still have this fight with myself. I still cry thinking about Spookie. I'm crying writing this. She was a great dog, who gave me unconditional love. I often wonder if I reciprocated, especially with my actions.

       I've asked people about this, and almost everyone I asked have told me they were in the same situation, and they felt the same way. Could I have done more, should I have waited, trying to assuage the pain this decision has caused. I finally came to a sort of reconciliation about it. Spookie was hurting greatly. She could not eat or walk, could not run and play, could not move without yelping in pain. And then, I remember the last time, that look in her eyes. I truly feel I saw gratitude. She was in too much pain, I feel I did the right thing.

      I guess I will always fight with myself about this. I can never seem to be resolved about this. I carry in my heart an image of Spookie, now free from the bonds of this pained life, able to run and play, lay in the sun and sleep. During this time, I was listening to Blues Traveler, a song called "Fledgling". The last line of the song went, "Now my fledgling, now you fly,....free." It resonated with me for I feel I did free Spookie, from her painful prison. I miss Spookie, I always will. She was my friend. And the day I set her free, May 27, 1992, was the day I had to grow up.....for her, and for me.

The Long Lost Art Of Resiliency

     I took a drive today to the city of New Castle, IN, to see about relocating to save some money on bills. For those of you that know me, yes, I did get lost. I eventually did find the place I was looking for, but I saw so much more on this sojourn of mine.....

     As I was driving down Highway 67, then down Highway 3, I saw many signs of a country in distress; houses, cars, many other things for sale. All kinds of cars and houses, people looking to get out from under whatever dilemma they find themselves in. I also saw lots of farmland, many cornfields, green and growing. At first, I saw this as a juxtaposition. Our country trying to grow and continue, opposite people who found themselves under duress and selling their possessions to get out from under.

     I saw myself in this, looking to cut costs on bills and living expenses, trying to find a way to improve my lot in life. Trying to grow and continue, yet finding myself looking to get from under. With all of this going through my head, I was still enjoying a beautiful Indiana summer's day, cool breezes, one window down (driver's side window doesn't go down), radio blasting classic rock, taking in the scenes flying by me. Then, the word "resiliency" popped into my brain. This, of course, got me to thinking, about what I was doing, and what I was seeing, and, all of a sudden, I began to feel better about things. My situation, other's situations, the country. I know we are struggling right now, and it will take a lot to pull this country out of its economic troubles. But I am now more confident than ever that we can, and will, rise from this, and be alright.

     When I saw all those "For Sale" signs, I just naturally assumed the worst; people selling prized possessions to pay bills and get from under. But, then I thought maybe these people are downsizing, or shedding unnecessary expenses, something like that. This is being resilient; recognizing there are things you can do to make expenditures less, to improve your quality of life. Looking for ways to reduce bills to have more to do what is needed, or even wanted. Being resilient. Like the cornfields I drove by, growing with the hope of a better future, green with the promise of better things to come. I processed all of this, and I began to realize what it was going to take to pull this country out of this predicament. The answer, my friends, is us,...

     We are the answer. We can no longer depend on government bodies or big business or financial institutions to rescue us from this economic peril. Their interests are vested, and we are not part of their equation. It's going to have to be us. We are going to have to bolster our smaller businesses, our agriculture, our future. We have to begin a grass roots effort to bring this economy, and our country, back to prominence. Granted, this is a massive undertaking, but if we break it up into smaller processes, we can find ways to keep ourselves going, to grow and continue, Great amounts of small campaigns can begin to fix our economy, our towns, and, with a concerted effort, our country.

     This is the hope that is there for the taking. It is time to take advantage of it. We have not laid down and stopped; we continue to try to find new ways to improve, and grow, and propser. This is our resiliency. This is what we have lost. We have to grab it, use it, build with it, get better with it. We lost this gift, relying on other entities to pull us out. We must rediscover the long lost art of recapturing our American dream. We must remain resilient in our efforts. And, I know this; we won't stop, ever. With the advent of the 10th anniversary of 9/11, resiliency becomes vital once again. We remember that terrible tragedy, how America got knocked down; but how we came together to raise ourselves and this nation up after that. I am in no way correlating that tragedy to what we are going through today. What I am saying is we need that spirit again, that resiliency, to bring us back once again.

     I said it before, and I'll say it from now on; I have no doubt we will rise from this, we have before, we will again. We may get knocked down, but we will get back up, we always do,....

Eva's Gift

A golden voice

wrapped in an anomaly;

a voice that had no label,

and could sing anything.

Always questioning

why anyone would listen

to her;

not yet realizing,...

And when she sang,

she did not just sing,

she painted and sculpted

with harmonies and melodies.

Her voice entered your ears,

and filled your soul with hope,

your heart with love,

and your mind with beauty.

But deep inside,

lurked a pain

she kept hidden

until it was too much;

It ate her body,

it whittled her bones;

it tried to hold her down

and scare her.

Death stared into her eyes

and tried to silence her.

She sang, and her golden voice

raised us all up.

Her body has left now.

But, her voice remains.

Give her an apple, she thinks she has a diamond ring.

She gave us her art, and we have

hope, and love, and beauty,....

　

My Date with Dentistry, or, I Can't Feel My Lips

     I've been accused of being smart. Sometimes, though, I can do some pretty stupid stuff. About four years ago, I broke the tooth just behind my "fang" tooth on a rib bone. Rib was good, broken tooth was not. But, because of no insurance, and no money, and a fear of sharp things in my mouth, I never got around to getting it taken care of. And, I recently found out, this is an extremely STUPID thing to do. 

     Over the past four years, pieces of the tooth would fall out of my mouth, no problem (or, so I thought.) I have broken two other teeth, they fell out, no problem (again, flawed thinking.) About two months ago, I thought I had an inner ear infection. Went to the doctor, got antibiotics, got a little better, no problem (are you noticing a pattern here? Me, too.) On Monday, July 4, I had my own fireworks, inside my head. I bit into a donut and accidentally bit down on that broken tooth. VERY stupid thing to do . Before I knew it, I was in pain that is indescribable; but I will try. It felt like my tooth would explode, and I really wish it had. It hurt like that for about two hours, so unbearable I could not think straight. After trying a bunch of home remedies, I rinsed my mouth out with salt water, and that helped. I couldn't sleep, but I wasn't insane with pain.

      I took the day off from work, and, since I now had insurance, I went to the ImmediaDent office in Anderson, IN. Got my first dental checkup in, well, many years (not too bright there, either.) The dentist found two cavities and two roots that needed extraction; the third broken tooth had, miraculously, was no longer there. It was decided to put me on antibiotics and Tylenol 3 (I like Tylenol 3) for a few days, and then we would tackle the roots and cavities. On the breakdown sheet, they had diagnosed me with a root tip extraction and an erupted tooth root extraction. My first thought when I read "erupted tooth"? Cool name for a punk ska metal band!! So, for the next few days, and sleepless nights, it was medicate and rinse. Then, on saturday, July 9, I went back into the office for the dreaded fillings and extractions.

      When I got to the office, I checked in and spoke with the assistant, while in the waiting room there was a grandmother and grandson. I knew this because the grandson was screaming and laughing loudly, trying to run amok, while the grandmother would tell him to sit and be quiet. I asked the assistant, "May I have my anesthesia now, please" The assistant said, "Only if I can have some, too!!" This was a good omen,...

      I was taken into the back a few moments later, and placed in the chair. The dental assitant, Cherish (love that name) got me ready, and then I met the dentist, Dr. Chaudhuri. I don't know much about dentists, but I would be willing to bet she was atypical of most dentists. She was funny, smiling, as well as caring, comforting, and extremely nice!! She was pretty, too (hey, at this stage of the game, I was looking for ANYTHING to alleviate my fear; you're damn right that helped!!)

      She told me how things would go; fillings first, then root extractions. Now, it was time to introduce me to Lidocaine. We had never met, but it soon became my very best friend!! She told me there would be a slight pinch; this was a needle being jammed into my gums and jaw. At first, it hurt, like a pinch. When the lidocaine took effect, though, I felt a vacancy. I couldn't feel my lips. At all. I also noticed a peculiar twitch I have; I like to wiggle my nose, like a rabbit. Thanks to the lidocaine, I couldn't do this. It bothered me for a while, but I soon realized I couldn't do much about it, so I just sat there, nose in park.

       Dr. Chadhuri and Cherish then did the cleaning of decay around the cavities, then Cherish did the amalgam fillings. This was somewhat discomforting, but bearable. Lidocaine was, indeed, my friend. While Cherish did the fillings, Dr. Chaudhuri went and helped other patients. Once the fillings were done, we took a small break, then went to extracting the bad roots in my mouth. This, my friends, is where we take a somewhat,........painful turn,...

       The first root came out quite easily, and in one piece. The extraction consisted of Dr. Chaudhuri making sure the nerve was dead, then getting leverage on the root tip that was exposed, then prying it out. Easy. Then, came time for the bottom root extraction. Dr. Chaudhuri was able to get good leverage on it after some drilling. That, for some reason, hurt more that I think it should, but I'm not a dentist, so I was okay with it. I should mention that Dr. Chaudhuri was being very supportive, calling me "hun" and "sweetie". This really did help. She also advised me that if I needed a break, or if it was too painful, to raise my left hand, then give her two seconds to remove anything sharp from my mouth, and she would stop. She said, "you are in control, so just stop us if you need us to stop." I'm thinking, she's got drills, picks, vacuums, needles in my mouth, and I'M in charge? Well, as I found out, it was true,...

       She told me we were just about done with the last extraction, and told me I was doing great. Then, it happened. As she was preparing to remove the root, a VERYSHARPPAIN started at my tooth and entered every inch of my body!! My left hand went straight up, and out of my arm socket. She said, "That hurt? The nerve should be deadened. Let me look,....well, we'll be safe and not sorry, we'll give you some more lidocaine." So, the assistant got another syringe, then I heard this; "This is going to hurt a lot for just a bit, are you ready?" HELL NO, I'm not ready!! But, I wanted this to end, so I said okay. I would now like to do my interpretation of that exact moment and what was going through my mind,.....

       "OOOOOHMYFREAKINGGOURDTHISHURTSSOMUCHohwaititstopped,....." Then, she went in with some pliers, and just like that, it was over. I was grateful and thanked her for her assistance. She looked me right in the eye and said "It was my pleasure, you were an awesome patient!!" I knew, right then, how lucky I was to have such caring, talented people working on me. I was indeed fortunate.

       I have been truly blessed with the medical and dental help I have received over the last 15 months. I have received care and support from truly knowledgeable, concerned people. They never made me feel stupid for waiting so long, they were supportive and wonderful.

     There it was.  Two root extractions, three cavities, and four syringes of Lidocaine (I love Lidocaine), and done.  Then, of course, meals of chicken noodle soup, oatmeal, and jello (I love those, too).  So, now, with some Vicodin (I love Vicodin) and penicillin, my mouth is healing;  it doesn't hurt that much anymore.  The major pain is gone, thank God!!  I guess, looking back on it, it could have been much worse,.....that kid might have stayed longer than those ten minutes.  That would have been torture,......