Priorities

Posted on by learning to live like water

Losses.

I have had a few this year.

Loss of a love that was so intense,

So sweet, like nothing else.

Now, I don’t even know if it was real.

That’s really what that loss was all about,

Because I’m coming to believe the man I loved

never really existed except in my heart.

When all the layers were peeled away,

Truth exposed,

He wasn’t there.

Then, I lost my mother.

My sweet loving mother.

I know that was real loss, but honestly

I know she’s still with me.

I miss talking to her.

I missed her hugs when I was in Florida.

I missed the way her face lit up when she saw me

And the way she still knew my voice on the phone, even a week before she died.

But her love, her unconditional, limitless, just-because-I-existed love

Is still with me.  Always.

It wraps around me, even at this moment, like a warm blanket on a cold winter’s night.

And now, I’m losing my kitty.

She was with me during all the dark days of my long contentious divorce.

She was with me when that man broke me into 1000 pieces

and she’d lay next to me purring whenever she heard me sobbing into my pillow.

She was with me when my mother slipped away, and slept next to me

Kept me company.

She and that man, who only told more sweet lies.

The kitty was true. The man was anything but. 

Now I embark on a new life,

Exciting life, a dream manifesting.

But without my mother, and my kitty,

Both of whom loved me unconditionally.

The man, over whose loss I cried the most,

Doesn’t even matter.

He was just a figment of my imagination.

The other two were real,

They gave me something to hold on to that no one can take away.

I’m not comparing the loss of my mother to the loss of my kitty.

They are just both loss in this context, real, painful loss.

They mattered.

Their presence always gave me something.

Their loss leaves the world lacking.

The man?  What was his name, again?

Priorities have been realigned for some time now.

But the illustration is just now finishing.

Still Here

Posted on by learning to live like water

She made it through the night.  I found her at the bottom of the stairs this morning, breathing still very labored.  She was obviously wanting to get up the stairs to me, but couldn’t.  I’m amazed she walked from the dining room to the stairs.  It’s breaking my heart.

I had hoped she would go during the night.  I don’t want to be the one to choose to end her life, I just wanted her to go when it was her time.  But now I will, because I know she’s in pain.

Thanks for all your well wishes.  I’ll be ok.  I know our pets also go to a better place.  My mom loved cats, I know she’ll take good care of her.

Another Loss

Posted on by learning to live like water

My kitty has taken a bad turn.  She has been laying low, and then, she’d come around her normal self.  But the last couple of days she’s been hiding out.  Since she’s a solitary cat anyway, I thought she’d just come around.  But then I didn’t see her for about 36 hours, and couldn’t find her.  Seriously, had my son looking in his laundry piles in the basement which is his room.  I still don’t know where she was.  I think there must be a way to get under the sectional from the back, because I looked behind it, and couldn’t find her.

Tonight I came home at about 7, and called her name.  I heard a weak cry, behind the sectional.  And there she was, laying flat on the floor.  She didn’t even raise her head.  I went back and got her.  I held her to me, against my chest for about 5 minutes, and she was crying plaintively, and her breathing was labored.

She’s dying….

I would have taken her to the vet tonight, but they are closed by the time I get home.  I am sure she has cancer, I can feel odd lumps all over her now. What ever was making her bleed a few months ago is back with a vengeance.  If she was a lap cat, I may have felt them before.  But she’s not. She rarely sits still with me for more than a minute or two.  Everyone else she runs from.  Even tonight, she tried to get away from me.  I got her an old pillow and put it in a chair that goes to my deck, in my dining room, because the floor is tile and easy to clean, and laid her on the pillow.  I just kept petting her and telling her I loved her….I keep going in to see her, to check on her, so she’ll know I’m around.  But I know she’s always been a loner, and will relax the most by herself.  However, I do know that I’m her human, I just hope she doesn’t suffer too much.

If she makes it through the night, I’ll take her to the vet tomorrow. I have my doubts that she will.  I’d almost rather she died here, in the house that she knows, with me around, rather than at the sterile vets, which she hates, and she hates the car.  I am sure she’s in pain, but I think the ride to the vets will kill her anyway.  I’m trying to make her as comfortable as I can.

So, I’m just trying to stay busy, trying not to spend the night crying but I think that’s a given.  She’s young, really only 8 1/2.  I had a cat that lived to be 19.

She’s been with me through so much, through the hardest days of my life.  I will miss her.  Guess she won’t be taking the trip to Florida with me.  I couldn’t figure out how I was ever going to make the trip with her.

I guess I’ll go sit with her for awhile.

Thanks for letting me cry on your shoulders.

Love and light.

 

Sleep, sweet sleep. Ahhhh.

Posted on by learning to live like water

sweet-sleep-wm

I can’t believe how well I’ve been sleeping.  Except for the night I went out dancing and drank a little too much.  But I’ve been getting 7 hours of good sleep every night, with no problem.

To me, the ability to sleep well is such an indicator of healing.  For months after and during all the drama with S, I was taking 10 mg of Ambien every night to get 5 or 6 hours of sleep, and it didn’t always work.  Now, I just go to sleep within minutes of turning my light out at night.  It shows me, more than anything, how much I have let go, forgiven, moved on.  It’s also helpful to know that I still have measures in place so that I can’t hear from, or get involved in any drama with, him or her.  The energy connection is still there, like the ringing in my ears (that I have because I am mostly deaf in one ear) but I am now able to just tune it out.  Never thought I could do that, but I can.

I messaged the Florida realtor last night, and told her I accepted the counter offer. The seller is going to hook up the gas to the stove/oven and to the hot water heater, which will cost her.  Plus she’s going to upgrade the electric at the same time.  So, I agreed that I’d meet her half way as she asked, between my original offer and my new offer.  I told the realtor, let’s get this done, I don’t want to fool around with it any more.

My house here won’t sell for what I’d hoped.  More than I bought it for but not enough to recoup all my money after I pay the realtor and state conveyance tax, which is 1% of the sale price.  But I’ll still be ok, there will still be enough there to do what I planned.

Moving on down the road.  And into the shower, gotta go to work.  🙂

Love and light.

 

 

Along For The Ride

Posted on by learning to live like water

 

joy.jpg

Crazy day.  I went back to work for 4 hours after the emergency room visit.  Then I raced home to meet with my realtor at my house at 6 PM..  I won’t be listing it for what I’d hoped, the market it just swarmed with houses in this price range.  But not a lot less.  I’ll be fine.  She made a bunch of suggestions most of which I was doing anyway.

As soon as she left I heard from the Florida realtor.  All is progressing as I’d like it to there.

It’s coming together.  I can’t even say “slow but sure” because since I went to Florida it’s moving at light speed.  I feel like I am being pulled along some hyper drive pathway at the moment.  It’s kinda cool, actually.  I’m not expending a ton of effort, it seems it’s just falling into place.

When I came home to get my son, the guy was here looking at the lawn and flower and shrubs beds, and he said he’ll give me a call, to give me prices.  Happy about that!

So where am I?  Moving at light speed from the old stuff.  Stuff which kept me down, kept me insecure, kept me fearful, and unfulfilled. Every day those emotions seem more foreign to me, to who I am, to what I want to do with my life.  I feel armed now, with the knowledge of how intensely I am capable of loving someone, of the knowledge of how to let trust be built with another person, and the joy that comes when pain no longer exists.

Life is changing so fast, but it’s changing in the direction that I’m comfortable with.  It’s not freaking me out, it’s actually calming me.  Kinda cool.  I’m just along for the ride of a lifetime.

Love and light.

One of Those Days…

Posted on by learning to live like water

Those days…..where you find yourself in the emergency room with your 23 yr old son, waiting for someone to glue his finger together. I told him you really shouldn’t try to patch a hole in the wall with a Swiss Army knife. A real one, a gift from someone he knows in Switzerland. Sharp. Very sharp. 

Sigh…. After 45 minutes, glued and splinted. And I get to go back to work. 😳😏🙃🤕

Being Propelled Forward

Posted on by learning to live like water

lip of insanity

I have not been able to keep up with people’s blogs lately, I hope once the house is on the market I have a little more time.  I get the notices on my phone app, in my email, and I save them all to read, and pretty soon I have like 20 to read.  So, I’m apologizing for ignoring them.  I guess its one reason I want to retire, so I have the time to keep up with everyone.

The realtor is coming tonight.  We’ll probably sign a contract, settle on an asking price for my house.  She sold me the house, so knows it well, and she lives across the street from me.  It should be an easy meeting.

We had book club last night.  The other girls had to go early, so it was over by 8:30.  We are reading The Tapping Solution by Nick Ortner.  It’s about EFT tapping, tapping your self along the energy meridians also used in accupunture etc.  It’s apparently very effective for changing habits, undoing phobias, healing actual physical ailments.  I have always had my own way of dealing with trauma, which has involved going within, sitting with it, letting it bubble up and go.  Reiki and gong baths, and meditation.  But it would be good to have other modalities as well, because I have had nights where I tried all of that but could not get to sleep, and would have tried tapping instead of taking an Ambien, (which sometimes even didn’t work.)

Hopefully, I have left all that trauma in the past.  It feels like it.  I’m feeling very mellow this morning.  It’s so hard to let go of things, but I believe I have.  The psychic who told me to grieve if I need to grieve, and to nurture myself, followed by all those dreams, seem to have propelled me through the door that I couldn’t get open.  Maybe it’s like Rumi says, “I have lived on the lip of insanity, wanting to know reasons, knocking on a door.  It opens. I was knocking from the inside.”

Yes, pretty sure that was the problem.

Love and light.

More Manipulation from My Son’s Father

Posted on by learning to live like water

manipulation

My ex’s cousin called me last night as I was leaving work.  I haven’t talked to her as much lately, because she’s been spending a lot of time in Boston to be near her kids.

She told me that my ex-husband called her sister in Florida on Easter, and wanted to know how he could get closer to my son. Also, called his sister, asking the same thing.

This is interesting, because neither of these women EVER talks to my son. The cousin has never met my son. My ex’s sister, who lives 35 miles away, has not talked to my son in 10 years. Just a lack of interest. So why he would think either of these people could offer any useful advise I don’t know. But then, I know my ex. He is doing it to build sympathy for himself, with the few people who will talk to him. It is not a case of wanting to know, really. Because he knows. I told him.

I told him that my son said his father should write him a letter. I explained to him, clearly, that he has to remember and acknowledge that he was brutal to my son. He was extremely emotionally abusive, and became physically abusive as well, though it was kept secret from me until my son came to live with me. But it was one reason my son walked from his father and never went back.

I told my ex that his son needs to see him go out on a limb for him. To write him a letter, that he can read over and over, that he can hold on to. Address the issues. Become vulnerable, to take a chance. I told him it may not work, but it may. If he doesn’t try, there is no chance. If he tries there is some chance that they will reconcile. My ex wants to find some for sure way that my son will respond positively to him. He doesn’t understand that it will take a long time for my son, even if he writes the letter.

I don’t know why he refuses to write to my son. Well, that’s not true. Because when words are written, they are recorded. They make him accountable. Another reason is because I’m the one who told him that’s what to do, a message I was relaying from my son. As with most people who are abusive, he doesn’t trust the people who he most should. He trusts his alcoholic cousin or his very aloof sister, more than me, who would love nothing more than for the two of them to reconcile, at least to a level where they would talk.

If the situation were reversed, I would have written a letter every day. I would have filled the mailbox til the post office asked me to stop. I would have taken that doorway, and run through it toward my son.

But my ex, instead, is simply trying to manipulate the emotions of anyone he can into feeling sorry for him. “Oh the poor man, he’s all alone. His ex-wife must be influencing his son not to talk to him.” Because he still thinks we are competing for my son’s affection. Even though he himself used to complain that I was absolutely non-competitive (he was a nationally ranked swimmer at one time, and was raised on competition, not only in sports but among his two siblings, who competed for their parents love.) I know my son loves me, and I would love if my son could love his father, and have a real father in his life. But with my ex, it’s all about manipulation. It’s not about the real business of healing and rebuilding his relationship with my son.

I have told my son that I’d really be happy if we were all at least speaking to each other before we all moved. He has promised me that he is going to tell his father that he’s moving before he goes. That’s something. That’s my son, once again, going out on a limb for his father, and speaks to the fact that my son still loves his father, even though he can’t bring himself to talk to him right now. That the abuse, and the chaos his father brings to his life is still hurtful, is still there. My son lived for his father as a child. He did everything and far more than his father ever asked him to, but he could never please him. He could never meet a constantly moving bar that had to be met for his father to love him. His father has done nothing to alleviate that pain.

I couldn’t meet the bar either. At some point, I realized that that moving bar was just a tool of manipulation, to feed his ego. My son knows it too. My son has found his way. I believe that the last 8 years of living with unconditional love, and none of the chaos, have allowed him to find himself.

I have been wondering, since last night, if I should call my ex and talk to him again about writing his son. But….no. His ego would be boosted to know people have talked to me concerned for him. And would do nothing to resolve their relationship, because as long as his ego is being fed, there will be no movement toward reconciliation. As long as he is the center of attention of his cousins, his sister, and me, he will have enough ego boost, that just complaining that he is so sad that my son won’t talk to him is all he will do. He won’t make a move toward him.

I know the man well, after 40 years.

I used to think when my son was small, that a 2 parent family is infinitely better than a single parent. And of course, that’s true if both parents are normal loving people. But if one is dysfunctional, and abusive, and so damaged, it is far better for a child to have one parent that can love him unconditionally than stay in the middle of the chaos a sociopathic, narcissistic, abusive alcoholic can cause.

I hope my ex can see the light some day. But my hope for him is slight. He has lost everything, his marriage, his son, his house, his business, his yacht, and lives in a 500 sq foot rented cottage with no heat now. You’d think at some point he’d rethink the way he lives his life, and maybe do a little soul searching. If it hasn’t happened with all that loss…I can’t imagine what, if anything, could change him.

I’m so grateful that I got out when I did. And got my son out. Just so grateful.

Love and light.

Beth Hart and Joe Bonamassa

Posted on by learning to live like water

When I went to Florida I stayed for a couple of nights with a friend from high school who lives in the town I’m moving to.  Turns out she’s been singing the blues at local places around there for over a year.  One of her favorite female blues singers is Beth Hart.  I have to sheepishly admit I did not know her.  My friend put on a few youtube videos of her, one was with Jeff Beck at the Kennedy Center honoring Buddy Guy. I realized I had seen it, live, because it was way tooo fabulous not to burn a spot into your psyche.

Needless to say, I’m looking forward, really forward, to going with my friend to see her sing.

Anyway after she played the Hart-Beck Kennedy Center video,  she “introduced” me to Joe Bonamassa, except when I heard him, I remembered that Scott had already introduced me to him, and I loved him.  One of those moments where we weren’t having sex, lol.  Listening to and discussing music.  With our clothes on!  (Ok sometimes we were naked, but not having sex, lol. Just sayin’ it wasn’t what some people wanted to believe it was!) OMG, and we did that with books too!  Anyway, my friend played the video below, and all I can think when I hear it, is damn…that was me last fall.  October 3.  And damn, I want to love someone else like that.  Except, I don’t want to ever have to watch him walk away again.

Listen to it…I bet you’ll feel the same.

More Strange Dreams

Posted on by learning to live like water

dreams

 

Some more weird dreams. I felt wrapped in darkness when I woke up this morning. I was wishing the sun was up, but it’s going to be a rainy stormy day here.  I had three dreams, I don’t know what order I had them in. The first one is why I felt the darkness. When I woke up I wondered intensely if he was ok, if maybe he had died. I even asked the pendulum, that’s how dark I felt. The pendulum assured me he was breathing.

There is a tree in a planter pot, like you might see on someone’s deck. It is inside. Scott and I have been growing this tree. It is in my house. He does not live there. I call him to tell him we are going to lunch. He does not answer. I see the tree, and the growth on the top of it has been cut off, and I know he cut it and took it. And now he won’t answer the phone. The stump which is left is about 2” in diameter, and when I look closely, it seems that it was cut so smoothly it looks like molded plastic, and is all the same color. Like it’s no longer a real or living thing.

The tree is the relationship that we were growing. To cut a tree means wasting you are wasting your energy on something foolish. However, I didn’t cut it, he did, in my dream. A withered or dead tree means your hopes and dreams have been dashed. I didn’t cut the tree, and it wasn’t dead before it was cut. It was cut by Scott, and the live beautiful part was taken, leaving me the part with no growth, which then turned into something not even alive. It seems to me, as best I can tell, that he grew it with me, til there was something there, and then he took, stole, the good part, the part with all the energy, killing the tree. Leaving my hopes and dreams dashed. If you are cutting something down it represents a broken relationship or severed connection, but I didn’t do the cutting, he did, in the dream, and in real life.

To dream that you do not want to return a call or answer a ringing telephone indicates a lack of communication. There is a situation or relationship that you are trying to keep at a distance. It was he that did this. He wouldn’t answer the phone, cutting off the communication, keeping me at a distance in the dream. In real life, I have cut him off, by blocking him. But he has not tried to reach me either, nor responded to the one message I sent him.

This dream takes me back to the medium who told me in December that he was an energy vampire. He grew the tree with me, and then stole the good part, severed the relationship, leaving me with something that was not even alive, devastating me. He’s cut off communication, since the one message I sent him he wouldn’t answer. He has taken all the good stuff we had for himself. Energy vampire, for sure. Thinking that he would have all the good stuff to himself, and use it for himself. Not understanding it was our connection, the energy of us both that made it grow.

The second dream was driving, again.

I was driving, it feels like a truck of some kind. Maybe a U-Haul, because a friend was telling me on the phone last night that I should rent a U-Haul for my son to move his stuff to CO. I was with someone, I don’t know who. There were piles of logs beside the road, huge piles, many piles.

To see a log in your dream represents a significant and meaningful aspect of yourself. It may reflect some subconscious idea. Alternatively, a log signifies a transformation. You are headed toward a new direction in your life.

That’s pretty self-explanatory. In combination with the first dream….It seems that I am moving on from the ugly stuff of the first dream.  Definitely headed in a new direction.

Then I dreamed that my mother was with me, and we were making hot dogs, lol. To see or eat a hot dog in your dream is phallic symbol representing masculinity, sexual energy, and vigor. Alternatively, a hot dog refers to simple and short-lived pleasures. Since it is obviously not the first meaning, I would say it is certainly the second, to have my mom there was a simple and short-lived pleasure while I slept.

I feel less dark, having taken the time to interpret these dreams. I don’t understand why I am suddenly remembering my dreams in such detail. But I am, and it’s giving me a better understanding of my life, of where I’ve been, and a lot of hope for my future. It’s helping me to put the past in the past and leave it there.

I still love the man, the soul of the man. But these dreams are giving me clarity on who he is, making the letting go an easier process. Because in the end, he did take the good from me, which was the unconditional love I offered him, the love without limits, without reason, just because he existed, and left me without much of anything, except a bunch of memories. I hope the love lifts him, when he needs it, so that it wasn’t all for naught. I apparently feel like he stole it from me, but he didn’t. I gave it willingly, and it’s his to keep, nor does he need to feel guilty that he has it, and didn’t give it back. I’m content with what he left me. I know my future is bright, it is exciting. Everything points to me moving into a wonderful new life.

Whew. That was a lot of work to start at 5:30 AM. Lol.