Cyber dating continues (The guy on the bus) My D

It had been about a month maybe three weeks since his first direct message on the gram. D and I had been going at it pretty steady messaging back and forth by then. Feverishly typing paragraphs, two to three at a time, spelling out the way we were affecting each other. My descriptions detailed his overwhelming presence inside my psyche. His accounts laid out his welcome reception of my offer of my inner most feelings. He had discovered a genuine spirit in me and poured his energies into reaching the point of uncharted territory. Mine was the joy of a remarkable find in this new, young and seemingly unfledged man more than half my age holding his own with me in a battle of wits. A healthy contestant in this dance of romance with words. He was a great partner with me on this journey of imaginations of passions unbeknownst to regular folk. I’m not going to say that I had not done this before because that would be untrue. Never before had I found myself so caught up in a man that I lost my footing. It was only when he misunderstood something that I innocently said about him and he replied a bit harshly that I noticed my hearts condition. I had fallen in love with the notion of him and me. My mind was flooded with the ideas that he had spoken to me. My heart ached with a need to nurture and care for him. My body craved for his touch. I kept the most intimate thoughts to myself because it was all so new. Early one Saturday morning I woke up with him on my mind. That had become my new normal. I thought about that expression of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results. It was normal to have thoughts and feelings towards a man and keep them to myself. I decided to share my thoughts with him:

I sent you this because I have developed an appetite for you. In realizing this I wondered how could it be? Could it be because I am inundated with your presence (although you are not physically here)by your texting me, contacting me daily and in between your reaching out, in the quiet moments of my day when I look at your pictures and re read our conversations? Yes this must be how it developed and now what do I do with this? I ask myself how much do I want you to know? Remember me saying telling you how I feel is giving you a roadmap to my heart. I feel Im taking it a step further and Ive got your hand in mine and leading you there. The entire time Ive been looking at the time and counting the days. It hasnt been a month! My logic reminds me. My heart says that connection doesnt respect time. If something comes together easily and fits just right it takes no time at all. Logic argues the place that youre in is full of the types of people who dont respect love or life I wrestle with my logical mind because I feel in my spirit that you are different from the norm. Like me. But Im reminded that I have been fooled before but I was fooled because of my spiritual condition at the time and I saw the truth. I simply ignored it. With you I notice a few small things that I am curious about (like you) so Im reserving judgment of those until the time presents and they may just become insignificant. Well Ive done enough procrastinating time to get to studying. Ttyl love My loves reply:
I’ve read this over and over because what you said was authentic. To me these are signs of seriousness and maturity within a person. This says more to me than what is on display for me to see. I have been caught off guard by this message but feel as though its right for you to serve me. I noticed that you struggle with the same logic that I have to deal with when it comes to what’s real what fake peoples motives etc. But at the end of the day you are no fool and you & both know that this very.. Well could be something or maybe its just nothing at all. But I highly doubt its nothing because I truly believe that its what we make it. I get that you’re afraid to show me where it would hurt at only because then I’d know your weaknesses but with that being said you’d have to keep in mind that doing so would cause a 2way street so trust will have to be formed between the two of us when doing so. I’m willing give up a lot for you as long as we both want the same thing. Some things.. Like for instance what I been through I may never talk about but that applies to what I am willing to sacrifice. I feel as though somethings aren’t worth it when I believe that you are. You’re longevity! Any man with common sense should know the value in everlasting things and so I like to believe that I do. When it comes to I out shit off. I will sit here with a messy desk an ashy ankles and elbows after I showered because I am so busy being caught up with you. That appetite we share together! More so on my end literally and figuratively though lol. But I simply just want to be good to you. I know what it means to not be enough so at the end of the day I truly hope that if things continue down the path in which they are headed in that we together will be all that we both need and crave for or else I feel as though our LOVE live is at stake. Outside of that baby I feel as though the world is ours. I won’t hurt you in anyway shape or form. Especially not physically and I’m not.. The type to abuse,I wasn’t raised that way. My mother wouldn’t have it and till this day I value that ladies word an opinion and would be devastated if she were look down on how I behaved and turned her back on me so no worries there. I just want you and I to be happy and me to provide you with a lot of love and good sex plus whatever else is in my power and authority as a man to provide his woman with. We’ve both been let down,we’ve both experienced disappointment so I think we should focus on making each other happy and not being a product of the past events…

Signed off for now prepare for the rollercoaster ride!

A fool by choice

As it calls to me

I move in to see

The light that shines from you

Its in your smile

And in your eyes

Inviting me to do

Things that I would not, but

The closer I get

The more I feel

The warmth of it on my skin

The heat of seduction pulling me into

This place of pleasure and sin

Im loving what youre saying and the things you do, and

Although I dont believe you

I surrender myself to counterfeit love just so I can feel you

If it cannot be real then

Ill just steal

the moments

That I can

because after so long

of being denied

Id rather be used

Than feel nothing

Even if it is a lie

They say that I should wait for the man whose love for me is true

But no one is here checking for me, no one but you

You pick and choose with your time to give

And who you give it to

I know Im not the only one

Know that I choose to be your fool

Admiration put into words

My free verse poem written for my friend D

My love please forgive my adoration that drives me to paint new images of beauty gleaned from the images of you that inspire me to put words alongside side one another in just the right way in order to rightly convey the beautiful square of your jawline that frames the wonderful flesh of your lips that speak the sweetest of sentiments and whispers to me the most sensual suggestions that I desire to do for you sans hesitation. Forgive my loves evolution from selfish greed to enlightened understanding that this love is to good to keep to myself. You are my love such a lovely experience my wish is that your light be seen by the whole world. Recognizing the light in you illuminated the light in me. Your light shines bright as a diamond reflecting every color of the spectrum! It fills me up and I cannot help myself. Forgive me love. You inspire me to sing with my

Sincerely Me

Search and rescue for my faith

What do I believe? This is the question that has been on my mind lately. Growing up I knew of God because everyone around me believed. I didn’t question his existence. I was told he was real and accepted it as fact. I imagined this big guy in the sky holding the earth in his hands. He witnessed everything that was going on, and he was there listening when I would pray.

I never thought about the details of how things came to be. Things just were. I never thought about why we do the things we do. We just do.

I believed everything I did was being recorded, and I would lose or gain points depending on my behavior. I would move up or down the rungs of this ladder located between heaven and hell with my life’s choices.

“The Bible says you reap what you sew,” my grandmother preached, “So plant good seeds.” This was one of the many scriptures that I was raised to pattern my life by and for a time it worked for me.

Little by little life’s troubles and my “rewards” for doing the “right thing” started to chip away at my faith. I was going through my life losing more and more to people who were not interested in pleasing God. These people sought to please themselves and I was being used. Once they got done using me I was discarded or at least relegated to the back of the crowd.

This marriage that I am working to heal from has done what I didn’t think possible. This experience has made me question if there is a God? I’m trying to reach inside myself and find that faith that I’ve held onto for most of my life to no avail. It pains me to say it but I don’t feel it like I did before. The woman that I am now will not accept any semblance of forgery. I need truth. I need to be truthful and I cannot accept anything that doesn’t feel genuine. Religion and most religious people that I know have issues that cause me to question their authenticity. I realize human beings are not capable of perfection. My search and rescue for my faith must be made with authenticity. I cannot accept it because everyone else is doing so. Is the big guy in the sky real?

There must be a divine source for all of creation. I can’t entertain the Big Bang theory. That seems like somebody just gave up looking for answers and said maybe it all just boomed and there you go! No. That can’t be true. I think about all that I learned in Biology this semester. The human body is crazy! Did you know that there are messengers that carry signals back and forth between the brain and body? These messengers called afferent and efferent neurons act at a speed and ingenuity that makes the Internet look primitive! Imagine when you touched something hot how quickly you removed your hand from the heat? Those messengers were working in that moment to relay the information to your brain from your hand and back! That happened in how long?

No, there must be a great and terrible force that set the world in motion. I’m just trying to figure out how to get to the place and where to land in my faith. I don’t believe that the church has it all together. In fact I believe it has a lot more to do with what is wrong then what is right.

I don’t claim to know it all, but religion leaves a lot to be desired. God is love. Agape love. That’s a love without condition. Ok I accept that and in the same moment I think about someone that I love dearly who is now damaged. He is damaged because he hurt himself trying to medicate the pain caused by his shame. His shame was that he was attracted to men and not women.

He is now completely dependent on the care of his aging mother who by all accounts needs someone to care for her. He is unfortunately a child again in his mind, although his body is in its 50’s. I cannot rectify the situation. Where do you begin to work towards a solution? Why do we even have a problem?

Brokenness is rampant. I don’t think you can meet someone older than 25 years old who hasn’t been broken somehow. I don’t know what to do about this place I find myself occupying. Somewhere between healing and purgatory. Does my healing require God? If so, how do I get there from here? I been searching for the truth and I’m beginning to think that I’m not going to find it. Maybe the truth will find me.

I pray that we meet up soon. I pray that it brings with it my wholeness and one day I can tell the story about how I made it over.

Signed,

troubled on every side but not distressed

Tha true loneliness of adulthood

Its 1:09 am and I’m sitting up in a living room chair getting my head together. I just put mom in an ambulance. She and my son were holding a strange conversation and from my bed I overheard in part. What I heard made me get up, and see what was going on. “Grandma you just took your sugar three times!” I heard my son say. I heard my mother’s muffled reply but I couldn’t understand the words. I got out of my bed and made my way to the living room. I found her slumped over in her chair. Her glucometer in her lap. “Momma whats going on?” I asked. She didn’t raise up or look in my direction to respond. “I’m tttrryyinn ttttooo get my blood sugar.” Her speech was slurred and sluggish and she even moved slow and sluggish. I saw the red digital 173 the results of her blood test. Not a bad reading for a type II insulin dependent so that wasn’t the problem. I wasn’t sure what the problem was, but I was worried so I called 911. After the paramedics came and took her the room fell silent. I sat in the chair looking at the Christmas tree that I put up earlier. The thought crossed my mind that she asked for the tree this year. It has been three or four years since we had any tree besides Charlie Brown. A few years ago I bought a fake white Christmas tree. It’s probably 2 feet tall and has lights already attached. All my kids were adults. Christmas decorations were no longer a big deal. So, I bought this table sized tree and named it Charlie Brown.

I remember every year during my childhood there being a Christmas tree filled with lights and ornaments. Lights hanging along the eaves around the perimeter of the house. We would have towels with Santa and reindeer on them hanging in the kitchen. Rugs in the bathroom with different Christmas designs and characters. I remember Mom loved to decorate for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

After the last three or four years with just Charlie Brown sitting on the table top she wanted a big tree.

Momma’s condition has been slowing declining over the last couple of years. The past few months she had seemed to pick up the pace. Some days she gets through without much trouble. At least once a week now it’s not so good. She just says “I don’t feel good .” She’s always complaining of being cold 扒 but the last few days it’s been so bad that I talked her into trading rooms with Mo. Last night she woke me up around 2:30 am. I don’t know what woke me exactly but on my way to the bathroom I noticed the thermostat was set at 100! I set the temperature back down to a decent 75 and looked towards her bedroom. I could see her sitting in the dark on the edge of her bed. Her arms were folded about her like she was giving herself a hug. “I’m cold” she said. I went and grabbed her heated throw from her recliner and helped her into bed. For the next couple of hours she would keep me awake getting up and down from her bed going back and forth to the bathroom. She had informed me earlier in the day that she was cold and couldn’t sleep all night the night before. This was shaping up to be part two I supposed. Only this time I wouldn’t be sleeping either.

Mommas house was built in the 1950’s. Three bedrooms. Two in the back of the house and one just off the living room. On the wall of the living room that continues down the hallway towards the bedrooms is a wall heater. The heater sets in the wall opposite the door to Mo’s bedroom. This creates a constant flow of heat to that front bedroom. Mine and mommas rooms are always cooler in the day and down right cold at night. A cold room is heaven for me! Menopause and hot flushes make winter my favorite time of year! I have block-out curtains and dark purple velvet drapes on my windows. In midday with no light on it’s pitch black in my room. On any given night in January you may see your breath in the air when you breathe in my bedroom! Mommas room was almost as cold as mine. Too cold for her nowadays.

I’m sitting at my mommas hospital bedside now. It’s now 3:15 am. Results of blood tests are showing infection the nurse informs me. I’m here with momma and supporting her. I’m thinking how I wish I had a special someone’s shoulder to lay my head on right now. It’s times like this that I am reminded of the true loneliness of adulthood.

I am taking care of my aging sickly mommy. Essentially waiting for her to die. It’s not a nice way to put it I know, but it’s the truth. I’m her only daughter able to do it so I’m doing it. My everyday life is built around her needs and her needs keep increasing.

That shoulder where I want to lay my head is yet to be found. Adulthood is lonely and I should embrace and accept it I guess. I’m working on it. #adultingsucks

Love and/or Romance

It’s early Saturday morning and I have plenty of studying to do. I have 3 finals this week. Biology lab and lecture finals are Wednesday and chemistry is Friday. My thoughts should be on the books but nope! My mind is on love and romance.

I used to believe that the two are synonymous. If you’re in love than you’ll be romantic. Current events are making me think twice about this. I use this platform to sort it out.

Uncle Tony says it’s good to look up the definition of a word. Even when you’re sure you know the meaning the word can hold more meaning than you thought. Love is defined by Google dictionary as an intense feeling of deep affection. Romance the noun is defined as a feeling
of excitement and mystery associated with love. I must include the definition of the verb romance and Google dictionary states it as meaning to court; woo. Now it’s quite simple to me that love vs. romance is a major issue of which I deal with personally. Let me see if I can explain. Included in the definition of love are the words ‘feeling’ and ‘affection’. Feelings are something that we all have in some capacity. What we’ve experienced in our lives thus far can determine our ‘feelings’. How we perceive and process events that take place plays a part in how we feel. Basically love and to whom we choose to ‘feel love’ for is extremely subjective. People like to say that we don’t have a choice in who we love but I don’t know if that is true. The more I think about it the more I believe that it is indeed a choice that we make. I am determined to meditate on the path we take in this choice because I think it’s partially subconscious. However, I reserve judgment on that for now.

Romance is closely associated with love but not the same thing. Obviously, one can have romantic feelings about someone they love. One can also romance someone they don’t “love”. Romance can be fun and fulfilling to me where love in very few moments in my life has been. Romance gives me license to woo and court someone in a cold world where love is most often not found. The problem is that most people that I have met don’t understand my methodology. I can accept Googles definition of love and live with that truth, but I believe as human beings we all share some insights about love that we don’t find spelled out in a dictionary. Unless of course you have a mental disorder that alters your true perception love is simple.

Love is inherent from our family as well as those people who have been around for a long time. Anyone who just happens to come along cannot love us in a way that we trust. Trust in love takes time to build. We gotta see if you will sacrifice. Will you fall on your sword? What will you or won’t you allow?

Action speaks to the truth within us, and we determine whether or not that action is a demonstration of love. After that determination we decide in part (subconsciously) if we want to do the same.

Romance is not the same as love. I don’t have to earn the place to romance. No falling on a sword or proving that I am willing to sacrifice. I only need your attention. In order to romance you, my advances only need reception. You can sit back and let me do what I am good at and bask in the glory of it all! I can fasten words together in such a way that you know you are special. My capacity to enchant will have you swooning over me like a teenager does a pop star!

Romance is my thing! I am damn good at it but it’s usually perceived as deceitful. I guess I can appreciate that. I mean where love is supposed to be eternal sacrifice and devotion. Romance is just a way of courting or wooing someone. Does the wooing have to have a destination? Why can’t I be me and flex my charismatic muscles? Let’s enjoy life and enjoy romance. Unfortunately, most want the endgame. Most want to have a special someone all their own. To belong.

I realize that we all want to belong to someone or something. We all have a need for love and sacrifice. Everybody wants at least one or two people who care so much for us that if we disappeared they would come looking for us. When we hear of people like Joyce Vincent we think,”I know that I don’t want to end up like her.” Belonging to someone is paramount to us all. Belonging makes us feel valuable. Belonging is the love that we look for and desire for ourselves.

I don’t look for that anymore. I believe that I have reached and filled my quota on that kind of love. When you meet and pursue me you get romance. It feels good to me. I’m like most people I enjoy finding things that I am good at and honing my skills. When practicing my romantic skills I don’t mean to come off as slick or smooth but I get accused of just that.

I love romance. Love not so much. I already have the kind of love that lasts forever. In that respect I have no lack. Now if you ask how so when you’re a divorc矇e? I have and receive it from my siblings and from my three adult children. My best friend Al along with the rest of those people holds an intense feeling of deep affection for me. If some day I went missing they would come looking for me. In the past I have shared love and devotion with a man. I know there is at least one man walking around right now that holds the Google dictionary’s definition of love within his spirit for me. His life’s path took him in another direction from me and even for that I am partly to blame. I choose not to dwell on that because I don’t believe that it could have been different. I accept my reality and keep moving forward. Regret is not loving or romantic. Why bother? Anybody out there down for romance?

Divorc矇e starts dating cyber style

The following letter I wrote to a young man who is not in free society. So far we have been corresponding and getting to know each other a few months now. He is in an extraordinary personality. Although I am more than twice his age, he is mature and smart enough to have and hold an in-depth conversation with me. He is wise beyond his years and a true pleasure to talk to. I wrote my first letter in my truest fashion. I told him a story about our first interaction. Today in prison are many highways to the outside world. Cell phones and the internet are a couple of those avenues. They are considered ‘contraband’ but they are a fairly easy commodity. I met D on the gram. He found me looking through hashtags and after examining my profile found himself interested in me. That’s what he told me. D is the guy on the bus. I shared with him my perspective on the day that we ‘met’. Rather the day that he DM’d me on Instagram for the first time.

I hope this letter finds you well and in good spirits. I would like to introduce myself, my name is Vickie, and I read about your story through change.org. I am intrigued by yours and many other stories that I have discovered mostly through my PoliSci course. My professor has an affinity for the underserved, oppressed and undervalued portion of society.

I am in college full time, and I am pursuing a degree in nursing. PoliSci is a requirement to earn a Bachelors degree and I am enjoying the class very much. This is my second round in the college experience. I earned an associates in science degree in 1998, and practiced dental hygiene from then until 2017 when I was forced to retire due to occupational injury.

The reason for this letter is I wanted to reach out because I believe that we could have a mutually beneficial friendship. You are a survivor of some tough circumstances and although I am not in quite the same predicament as you, I am also a survivor. It is my hope that we can be a source of encouragement to each other.

I keep typing and backspacing unsure of where to start! Lol! It is an awkward thing to write a letter, or even start a conversation, with a person that you dont know so I will begin with a day that I experienced just recently in late September.

It was the afternoon of a warm sunny day and I was on the noisy city bus. I had just left my school in a bit of a frazzled state because it was the middle of my week of midterms. Sometimes I will ride the bus off campus just around the corner to have a moment to get myself together! Then I go back to school and get it done. This day was crazy hectic. I had gotten the easiest tests behind me. My chemistry midterm was going to be tough for me, and I was having test anxiety. Many people suffer from test anxiety and I am no exception. For me it happens when I dont feel confident in the subject matter. Chemistry is challenging because there are so many steps and formulas to remember that it is a difficult subject to master. So while I was in a mid-panic on the bus I noticed a guy watching me. I normally keep my head down on the city bus. The types of people that ride the bus usually are strange. They reek of alcohol or body odor and some appear as if they just escaped 3B! This guy wasnt like what I just described. As a matter of fact he was attractive and appeared well kept. Normally, to avoid interactions I wear my beats and surf the gram on my phone. You know how if someone stares at you long enough you begin to sense it? Well this guy was determined either to memorize the structure of my face, or make me look his way! Finally after a while of his stare burning the side of my face I looked his way. He says, Are you a student or a professor? Im confused. I am a student I replied. I figured his confusion was because I dont look like the age of a first year university student. Anyway I was already frantically trying to center myself and he was bugging me so I didnt care to be cordial or considerate at that moment. He asked me another question and I just shrugged and blew him off. At that point it seemed like the longest bus ride I ever took around the corner! This guy was annoying me and I my only escape was to get off this bus! The bus driver pulled over to pick up a wheelchair bound rider and that takes extra time to put out the ramp! Dear God get me away from this man!! I finally say (in a not so nice tone)If there is something that you want you need to get to the point cause I dont have too much time or patience today! I am sure the typical guy would have copped an attitude in reaction to my dismissive demeanor which is what I was hoping, but that is not what he did. Him did not react, as if somehow moved by my actions. In full control of himself, instead he calmly responded, Whats got your swivel unbalanced? At that moment I wasnt even paying attention. I mean I heard him but I was listening really. I was focused on that shady bus stop just around the next corner. That was my place of solace and I couldnt wait to get there. As soon as I got to my stop I hurried to the door jumped down to the sidewalk and made my way to zen.

Sitting there in the shade. Feeling the coolness of the air and listening to the quiet I reflected on the man on the bus. I thought to myself what the hell is a swivel? I called my best friend and told her ,Girl! Got another one! She says Now what? Bitch I swear youre a magnet for trolls! I dont know what it is I reply I try to stay incognito on the bus! Al states, in her usual boisterous tone, I do! You shouldnt be looking like you look! To put it plainly my best friend Al thinks I am the most beautiful woman (inside and out)walking around. She says shed marry me if I had the right equipment but I dont so her husband gets that honor. I get to be the next best relationship in her life. Lol. Ill take it cause I know the love she has for me.

I go on about my day and dont really think about the man on the bus anymore.

A day or two later in my mind I recollect the interaction again. Not so much the conversation but it was his conduct that stuck with me. In my frustration that had nothing to do him I scoffed at him. The poise he held impressed me. So much so that I decided the next interaction we had I would apologize and hope that he would accept.

I learned something from the guy on the bus that day that I now practice. Instead of allowing someones behavior to influence how you react, stay true to yourself and demonstrate self control. Maybe I can, like my friend on the bus be a positive influence too! Well if you made it to the end of this letter I hope you learned something too. I hope to be able to write you again soon. Be blessed!

Sincerely me.

Friendships

people girl design happy
Photo by Bess Hamiti on Pexels.com

In starting this movement of living while blogging I published my first post yesterday. After doing so, I thought about the people that I mentioned and what I said specifically about them. I panicked a little because I hadn’t proofread beyond spell check and grammar! In my panic I went back and read what I had published and thought it was sufficient. However I need to be more careful and watch my delivery. The intent of this whole undertaking is healing for myself and if possible, others who know me either personally or that share in like struggles. I’m not interested in causing anyone harm or embarrassment. I will share my experiences with care to protect those involved while doing so all for the cause of my growth and healing.

I spent the majority of my childhood awkward and shy. I didn’t really learn the art of socializing until recently. It took me forming a friendship with a woman who can talk and make a friends with anyone to acquire the skills. Watching her interact with others and getting feedback from her about myself taught me so much. My favorite lesson on my journey so far is how to make friends. It may sound silly to you but I didn’t know how to make friends. I never knew what to say. I would stand around and watch others interact in amazement. I’d wonder how they could think of things to talk about so easily. I could do one on one with a person if they approached me, but mostly I was a wallflower. It wasn’t until my friend Thea shared with me that I made this face when we were around a bunch of strangers. She said my facial expression would suggest that I was detecting a foul odor and that is why no one would approach me. Lol! I never knew that I was doing that! I made it my mission to have a smile on my face when amongst the living. In doing so, everything began to change for me and I acquired a new skill. I know how to make friends. Now that I am able to make friends I am learning more about myself and others. I’ve learned that as human beings we want to be heard and we want to belong. I spent a lot of time feeling like no one could hear me. Even when someone did hear me, often times they misunderstood me. The art of communication soon became the next skill that I determined to gain. To belong to someone or something I can say that I have always had. I don’t recall a time when I didn’t feel like I belonged to someone. I could always depend on my mother. She was not perfect but I knew that she would do anything for me. My family loves me and that I’ve always known.

In my process of living and growing in this new season of my life I am enjoying getting to know people. All sorts of people. Nowadays in what is called “The information age” it is more possible than ever to make a friend with someone on the completely other side of the planet! Through social media I have met people in Russia, Senegal and many different cities in the U.S.. People from many different walks of life. Some of my most interesting stories are shared with people who are not living in free society.

I remember in the late 90’s I read an article in Ebony magazine. I am not sure about the exact subject of the article but it mentioned a woman who was on death row in Texas. I don’t recall much detail about her or her case. What I do remember is her mailing address was included at the end of the article. I wrote to her and she wrote me back. We corresponded for a while and I got busy with life and stopped writing her. I remember receiving a letter from her in which she let me know that it wasn’t ok to begin a friendship with her and just stop. She expressed her plight with being forgotten because she was incarcerated. It was easy for everyone to forget about her. Out of sight out of mind. For her the though, it was hard to forget. Time was something she had too much of to fill and corresponding with the outside world kept her closer to feeling normal. I will never forget her letter because she was very good at making me understand that although my intentions were good it wasn’t so good to make contact and just walk away. Her plight stuck with me. I didn’t write her anymore but I never forgot her our brief interaction.

People who are in prison are not all the same. People in prison are not subhuman. They are people who for whatever reason found themselves on the wrong side of the law. I don’t believe that you can throw everyone in a certain group into a basket and paint them all with the same brush. Some prisoners (the majority) are indeed deserving of their stay in the correctional system. Some of them shouldn’t ever be returned to society. I don’t believe they should be forgotten. My feelings towards inmates in the correctional system was influenced by my own experience with someone that I love. He was my high school sweetheart and he had gotten into trouble which landed him in prison at 18 years old. I didn’t just decide to write to some random offender out of the blue.

With J is where I started my journey into adulthood. It began with a knuckle head teenage boy intent on conquering the female world. J and I have experienced a lot together though he spent 29 years in prison. We are no longer married but I continue to learn from him. That relationship is A whole story in itself that spans a lifetime of 33 years and counting.

True friendships never die and I look forward to sharing some of our memories. I’ll be returning soon!

Saltofthaeearth

The beginning of a reinvention of self

advice-advise-advisor-7096It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon and I have plenty of studying to do. Final exams begin for me on December 6 with Political Science. Professor has decided that we are to write an essay explaining what are the powers of the President of the United States. We must consider how these powers are restricted or not by the Congress and, Judiciary, formally and informally. Following closely behind will be my Biology, Chemistry and Art final exams. This all could have happened just a couple of weeks sooner and I might have been alright. Every semester it is the same thing. It is the last few weeks and feel a crash and burn coming within my frontal lobe. It is as if my brain is in overload with too much information. This class load of thirteen units is considered full-time. I have classmates that are doing as much as twenty-two units, but they are at least half my age of 48 years, if not more so. I have one classmate who just graduated high school last may and is taking seven classes including the Biology and chemistry that we share. I mention him because he bares and uncanny resemblance to Philip Michael Thomas and I have a great time sitting next to him in class and examining every inch of his beautiful face.

Returning to school at 48 years old was not my first choice. I attended college in my twenties and graduated in 1998 with an Associate degree in Science. I became a registered dental hygienist and practiced for twenty years until my hands began to feel numb, tingly and weak. About ten years after I began my hygiene career these symptoms began and I saw a neurologist who after conducting muscle and nerve conduction studies gave me his professional opinion. “To put it plainly” he stated, “you have two choices. Surgery (this is not guaranteed solution), or change profession.” At that time I had three babies to care for and a husband who for all intents and purposes was more like a room-mate. We split our bills in half and he wasn’t much help to me. I knew that I had to fend for myself, so I kept practicing until I couldn’t keep from dropping the instruments. After being fired from my last two jobs because of my inability to keep up I decided that I should go back to school and pursue my dreams.

For most of my life I have held two dreams for myself. One practical, becoming a registered nurse, and the other seemingly impossible, becoming an author. I love to care for others. It comes as naturally as breathing. I see a need and I jump in to help. I also love to read and write. This blog will be my first attempt to write to someone who may be interested to read, and not just a captive audience of a family member or a friend who is trying to be supportive.

That’s it for today! I’m going to keep chasing my dreams and writing down the journey as it unfolds!

The Journey Begins

Thanks for joining me!

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. Izaak Walton

post