Tag: family

Sober Sunday

Sunday Morning Coming Down

Take away the alcohol. Take away the dirty clothes. Take away the loneliness.

And yet, my life is still fragmented; shards of money, property and family. I live in different worlds. The one in my head, the one in my heart and then the moments of time that occur, which are suppose to be the best. Problemless. Carefree breaths of time.

Is Bethlehem still there? How are the Palestinians and the Israelis doing?

Here on Amelia psychotropics rule. Cancer is atmospheric and the beach is disappearing. ( for me anyway )

Continue reading Sober Sunday

Family History

Ancestors Ancestors and more Ancestors

Mary Frances Lowe Peterson was my great – grandmother. She lived on Blair Road, on the family farm. She was born and raised on the families land tract. She was there, when my mother woke up, as a five year old, smelling smoke and hearing a crackling noise. She alerted the family, saving their lives. A night they never forgot! They lost everything, but themselves. The little, curly haired cherub, became an instant hero. Mary also lived with my Grandmother, Elizabeth Peterson McInarnay, on Phyllis St. The family had built a house there, following the farm house burning to the ground.

They rebuilt the farm house.

Continue reading Family History

5-25-2020

What part of normal is worth rushing back to?

All of my photos. All, of the waves, I’ve ridden. The numerous adventures that I have been on. They seem distant and unreal.

But right now, I have more important things to do.

I am huddled up and hunkered down, with my daughter and my husband. We are on an adventure of sorts. All time, is a happening. Moments and events to be remembered.

From past experiences, I know, that what I want to return to, is no longer there. Dreams are eroded, repeatedly. But that has never stopped me from creating more.

When your glass castle, becomes concrete. Sit on it. It will soon turn to illusion.

Put a Flower on it –

I’m sitting on my couch, my daughter laying sixty feet away, suffering with cancer. I have chosen to not write about this, in the past, because it’s too personal, too overwhelming and there has been too much conflict.

I came home from Costa Rica, February 18, 2019, on an emergency ticket. I went straight to the hospital and proceeded to fall apart. Little by little, I have pieced myself back together, as I sit on the sidelines and watch her CANCER process, played out with the doctors, my sister and her father.

I disagree with everything they do.

I’m about living, not dying.

It’s all quite complicated.

Cancer is personal.

Flower or no flower.

Appreciation Dinner

Last night I attended a dinner, for the owners and members, of my Crossfit box – 32034.  The food was good, everyone looked great. Beaming faces, with bright eyes, long lashes and big smiles, were on every body present. I felt honored to be a part of.

Luke and Erin Riddell are the owners and coaches of a new box on Amelia Island.

After we ate and socialized, they got up and gave a talk about what their Crossfit Box meant to them. Yes, it’s about health and fitness, but it’s also about community and being a better person.

In their prayers, they had asked for thirty members. And as stewards they would assist the members to be able to go out and be lights in the community.

The evening had a feeling of warmth, and a nurturing family.

I needed that.

Jesus loves me, and they love me.

Crossfit 32034!

Blocked and Deleted/Yet Another Battle in a War I Thought Was Over

Following a death, engulfed in grief,  mourners can take on the energy, of an out-of-control fire, behaving erratically and moving in a direction, that creates a veering and unpredictable path. They search for a target to blow their vaporous, hot air of anger. They want to hurt someone. Modern day bereaved, zero in on their quarry and begin to hurl their bombs. Hate filled words are the ammunition and cell phones are their technological armory. Continue reading Blocked and Deleted/Yet Another Battle in a War I Thought Was Over

Neurotic Anxieties

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I wasn’t always grown.

I haven’t always been this old. We all were once children.

No one has to explain neurotic anxieties to me.  Continue reading Neurotic Anxieties

A Sprinkle of Childhood

You have one man, with volcanic rage, simmering below the surface of his skin. You have one woman who is iron clad and formidable, prepared to protect the family at all cost. Each has their own story, steeped in alcohol, violence and money. Smiles would turn to grimaces – smile, frown – smile, frown – it was a dodge ball game. You would eventually get slammed.

Then take the kid. Twelve years old, eager to please; anxious to get every detail correct.

The man had given orders, “Go saddle up my horse”. Continue reading A Sprinkle of Childhood

The Family Finances

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Internal thoughts have a way of surfacing, lingering, and then diving to the nadar of my existence, only to break through my encephalon, carrying crayons. I must have a window to spend time staring out of. It creates a division of mental gymnastics, pulling thread through my thoughts and gluing glitter across the nature on the other side of the pain.  Continue reading The Family Finances