Second Book of Poetry has now gone live

Dear Readers:

Shadows of Love my second full book of poetry, has gone live... it can now be pre ordered from Amazona (both in soft bound and hard cover/dust jacket at http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1456731238

At Barnes and Noble http://search.barnesandnoble.com/books/e/9781456731236/?itm=1&USRI=bonnie+pike

It will be available to order through Books A Million and Borders as well... soon.

Please share this information with others and should you decide to purchase the book please go to the website of the company you purchase from and leave a comment on what you think. If you would, also please ask them to carry this on their shelves.

You may also see previews of the book at my website of ShadowsofLove.com

Thank you. I hope you will enjoy it.

Blessed be

The Person Who Did Not Have A Chance...?

Merle Shaim, a Canadian author and journalist wrote some of my favorite books -- one of them is titled Courage My Love; A Book To Light An Honest Path. I highly recommend its reading, particularly in these increasingly difficult times.

In her writings, I have come across two quotes (in truth there are many more) which have always gently spoken to me and touched my soul but lately have been screaming at me and whacking me across the head with a two by four...

The conflict between what one is and what one is expected to be touches all of us. And sometimes, rather than reach for what one could be, we choose the comfort of a failed role, preferring to be a victim of circumstance, the person who did not have a chance. (aka victimhood, of which our current society is rife with.)

AND

One often learns more from ten days of agony than from ten years of contentment (How true this one rings. Ask any survivor of war, catastrophic illness, hurricane/tsunammi survivors, or someone who has had an innocent, pristine child ripped from their lives out of ignorance, anger, stupidity or hate, by a once beloved partner, spouse, or adult child.) You do learn much from pain don't you?

These very things have led me to a place where I know many now keep company -- the fear of success and the awakening to the fact that this fear stems from seeking other's approval and not giving myself credit. Of wallowing in self doubt, self depracation, and fear. Sound familiar to any of you?

How many of you remember a song children sang, oft times while traveling... """"the bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain, and what do you think he saw""""? Yep, he saw another damned mountain.

I find I suffer from this very same mountain climbing syndrome; scaling one mountain after the next, over coming one more obstacle or tragedy, trying to smash that invisible glass ceiling, trying to be that "perfect imposter" that makes everyone else happy but not me. Never, however, while accomplishing these tasks, did I "celebrate" me. Even in the publishing of my new book of poetry "Shadows of Love; a Walk Through Life" I find myself shrugging off personal triumphs and accomplishments -- seeking instead for other's approval.

Tracing this unnurturing behavior back to its roots, I can see a shadow self standing fearfully quiet, waiting for that parental approval which never came (and now never will). Decades later, and with the help of other unmet needs (not wants) and self absorbed people, I have come to believe that nothing I do is ever good enough so I have continued on a somewhat self destructive cycle of withholding approval, not from family, friends or coworkers, but from myself.

Then, when I truly get myself to the point of feeling absolutely worthless, I pick up the last Mother's Day present I ever received from my Jessie bear, open the cover, and hear her soft little voice saying " Happy Mother's Day Mom-mom; I love you", and look over a scrapbook of memories she and I made just by being ourselves and enjoying life. Then, in my mind and heart, I feel her tiny arms steal around my neck and hear her saying "you know who is the bestest in the whole wide world? You are Mom-mom!. Ahhh, the faith and love of a child can move mountains can't it?

So today, despite the fact that the only piece of sunshine I ever truly knew has been ripped from my life, I am moving forward... supported by that innocent love and belief. I will honor the faith and love of my granddaughter by honoring accomplishments, dreams, and even failures and leaving her a legacy of courage, conviction, hope, and unconditional love...

Although no one will EVER crown me "Queen for a Day" and the world wil never confer a recognition that can ever make me feel fulfilled or whole like Jess did and can, I know I can. After all, can ANY of us really afford to wait for the worlds approval? For anyone's approval?

So, dear reader, join me today by making your accomplishments matter, no matter how trivial they seem to you. They are NOT! Rummage around and find old photos or memorabilia that say HEY!! I did this!! and then display them proudly and rejoice. Pour a glass of wine and celebrate YOU and I will join you in a toast of success, approval, gratitude, and love.

I believe in you and I believe in me too.

FINALLY

The golden apple devoured has seeds -- it is endless.

Blessed be.

MOM-MOM’S LOVE
(The promise I can’t keep)
Tiny footsteps padding softly down the hall
Moving very quickly, like a slinky, covert cat
Slipping through the dimness toward the light
The query, “where is my Mom-Mom at?”
Pretending not to notice, I continue with my studies
A shuffl ing in the corridor, causes me to steal a peek
Tousled, rumbled hair, drowsy, sleepy eyes
Lurking in the shadows, appearing very meek.
Clearing from my throat a pretentious little lump
I gently close my book, appearing nonchalant
In a faint and fretful voice, the visitor proclaims
”Sitting with my Mom-Mom truly what I want.”
Feigning grave surprise, a gasp I let escape
I hear giggling from the shadows, but not a move she makes
Powerless to prolong my ridiculous charade
I open my arms wide, will this be the cue she takes?
The little fairy fl oats across the room
Limbs extended out toward me, a beam upon her face.
She hurls herself upon me, wriggles nearer yet
A sigh seeps from her lips, as I enfold her in my embrace.
Angelic features radiant, warm breath upon my cheek
A sleepy, wispy line she speaks, and I begin to weep,
”Promise when I wake, you will be here just for me?”
”I love you very much, you know”
And she tumbles off to sleep.

THE DEAD ZONE

I truly cannot remember when I first started writing--it seems, to me, that I was born with a pen in my hand; much more able to communicate through a poem, letter, or essay than to do so verbally. I know I have always been a writer and no matter what someone says or does, I cannot "not" write.

Throughout the course of my lifetime, writing has NEVER been about being published, in fact, I could care less. It is, however, the only way I have ever had or known to speak, emote, or simply just be. I do find that I am more comfortable in writing in long hand long before I could take it to the typewriter or now to the computer. There is something very intimate that occurs between me, the pen, and the page that is lost on the electronic world. However, progress has forced all writers to turn to the computer and eventually the world wide web. First, however, I have to feel that pen, that paper, and the flow of spirit.

The writing life is rarely "exciting"; in fact, there is little excitement involved in the process. At times, the writing process is akin to walking through my beloved desert in the afternoon heart with virtually no end in sight and just enough water to make it through. During those moments, I look for that special image only to find it was a mirage.

At other times, everything feels empty and nothing I write seems to hold or to have value. I can compare it to trying to grab a fistful of sand with open hand and watch the grains of sand run through my open fingers much like time now runs through my life. This is when I question the value of my writing.
I remember my mother telling me that writing was a waste of my life and that I would never be able to make a living from it. My father did not want me to go to school for journalism; he wanted me to be a teacher, a nurse, or a secretary. Others in my life, when I am absent from community or family because I am lost in the writing process, want to know what I do all day in what feels, to me, like and endless need to control time or me.

I have finally learned that things outside myself have always been demanding me to conform or to placate; but conformity and placating others robbed me of my life, offered me no challenge, and left me feeling spiritually dead. That is what I have come to call my 'dead zone'. So I have arrived at a place where I can no longer allow the wants or demands of others to create inertia within any longer; my life is too short and I will no longer fail myself.

The only failure in writing is when I let others stop me; when I stop writing, saying what is on my mind, sharing my convictions ,dreams, sorrows, ideals, loss, etc. If I allow things, others, or circumstances to silence my writing then I also fail myself and I will no longer do that. Others are free to debate my writing, enjoy it, hate it, or ignore it, but no one is allowed to tell me to stop writing or to stop sharing; NO ONE.

So, the outside world can go right ahead and scream at me because I have created, with the help of God, supportive counselors, doctors, and friends, an inner world of determination. I now make consistent positive efforts for the good, not only of others but for myself.

When I am writing, I feel like I, alone, have the responsibility to make the earth turn around the sun. In a way, this is a truism for all because each of us does, in fact, create the world.

Guess I had better get to work then... This is where I find my personal power and NO ONE is going to take it away. Don't let anyone take yours away either. Let's do away with the Dead Zone.

Vogue and Vague... not knowing who we really are

"We are not born all at once, but by bits. The body first, and the spirit later. Our mothers are racked with the pains of our physical birth; we ourselves suffer the longer pains of our spiritual growth"

The above quote comes from a book written back in 1912 called the Promised Land. The Promised Land is Mary Antin’s mature autobiography. In it, she tells the story of what she considers her escape from bondage in Eastern Europe and her finding of freedom in America. Early in the book, she compares herself to a treadmill horse who can only go round and round in the same circle. She sees herself in Polotzk in what was then Russia as imprisoned by her religion (Jews were allowed to live only in certain places in Czarist Russia and only to work at certain trades) and her sex (among Orthodox Jews in Eastern Europe, women were not permitted education beyond learning to read the Psalms in Hebrew).

Simone de Beauvoir, the French existentialist, philosopher, writer and essayist, who wrote the book Women as other put this belief in another way "One is not born a woman, one becomes one"... and at the age of 55 I have come to learn how very right these two very different women were and are.

I am just now beginning to make peace with myself as I realize I, too, have lived in my own "prison" The return of cancer into my life back in 2006 and the ongoing battles that have ensued since as well as great family turmoil which unglued my family at the seams six months ago have let me realize that I do not need to "guild the lilly" per-se... that I can drop those aritifical trappings of my life which I clung to in fear of not being "liked", "loved", or accepted or having people leave me and allow the real me to be revealed. I can live and breathe free loving and enjoying life with the blessings of God as ME

Very few of us are blessed with this type of real growth at a young age. Growth of maturity and spirit takes time. We need time to consider, time to reflect, time to make creative choices, time to emerge from the cocoon, time to clean out the skeletons from our closets, time to clear away the psychic and spiritual cobwebs so that we can then pare down our "essence" and become REAL. It is also not a painless process... as our mothers once gave birth to us in pain so too giving birth to ourselves causes pain. A. W. Tozer once wrote, "It is doubtful whether God can bless a man greatly until he has hurt him deeply." God has a mission for your life and mine. But before we can carry out that mission, we will often go through the boot camp of adversity. If this is where you find yourself today, ask God to give you His grace to walk through this time with you. He promised He would never leave or forsake us.

The main problem I see, not just for women but for men as well, is that most of us have remained dormant for years -- drugged senseless and beaten down by our own numbing disapproval, nagging self doubts, and absolute benign neglect. Coping strategies that once brought a sense of reief suddenly only fill us with regret.

Therefore, to undo this damage (and in my case that damage was massive) and reconnect with our own true natures, we need to take the plunge, that all important but so difficult leap of faith, confident that God will hold the net. Then too, we need to treat ourselves gently with the very same kindness we would bestow on someone with a traumatic brain injury who need the patient reassurance of their own identities and capabilities.

The truth of the matter is until you make peace with who you are, you will never be content with what you have... nor can you truly be grateful.

blessed be.

Discontent is a powerful tool

I stumbled upon one of my favorite "creative exploration" book back in 1996, "The Artist's Way; A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity back in 1996 when I was dealing with severe writer's block and stagnating dreams. This is where I learned that there is only one journey; going inside ourselves. There is only one destination.. and each person has an individual one but surprisingly, it eventually leads us all to the same place; HOME.

In working with the guidelines in this book, I learned to switch on the spiritual electricity and through this I have discovered more energy and inspiration, amazing discoveries and delightful coincidences and the ability to not only to accomplish new goals but to lose and let go of old ones as well with grace.

"Grace strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness....Sometimes, at that exact moment, a wave of light breaks into our darkness and it is as though a voice were saying ""you are accepted"". Isn't that what most of us are seeking? Acceptance of who we are both by other and by ourselves?

Sometimes, the switch to our spiritual electricity is turned off or a dimmer switch is attached. Suddenly dissatisfaction seeps through a crack in the door and we are left in the dark, left to our own devices... forgetting that ALL we need do is get up, walk over to the wall, and turn on that switch. As my readers have heard me say several times... you have to ASK. I have learned that asking is the only way to turn on that spiritual light. It is always there, I just have to ask.

The dissatisfaction I feel when the switch is turned off or dimmed manifests itself in a myriad of ways. Suddenly I do not like ANY room in my house as decorating mistakes from past lives haunt me. My clothes don't fit right anymore. I grow bored with the meals I am cooking. And even worse, looking at things with gratitude begins to irritate me and gives way to restless discontent. This is when I have to hold on with nails, teeth, and show true grit and remember the wise words of English Historian Cicely Wedgewood "Discontent and disorder are signs of hope, not despair"

What is occuring at times like these, both on a personal and interpersonal basis, is part of the process I call divine discontent. After all an oyster cannot make a pearl without that piece of grit that irritates it can it?

This year I have stepped into (been thrown into)my creative second chance; I am coming into my own. I have finally, after almost 55 years, come into my own life and am wrestling my future from fate. Perhaps, I am even learning to spin straw into gold... (smile)

I am accepting that God holds me.. the Universe beckons and through all, I am grateful that I can live by my own spiritual light.

So can you, dear reader... ASK for it.

Blessed be.

The never ending saga of "its always something"

Roseanne Roseannadanna (played by the imcomprable Gilda Radner on Saturday Night Live oh so long ago) always said "its always something" and of course she was right.

Sometimes its a simple problem, a damned nuisance, or its soul shattering and life altering. But, it is always something and that is called Real Life.

Shortly after Gilda left Saturday Night live, her goal was to create a life for herself and her new husband Gene Wilder. For well over a decade she had been a workaholic and she felt she had watched life spin by. After falling in love with Gene, she realized the pleasures of slowing down and smelling the roses. By the time they married in 1984, she had decided to pursue her goal of becoming a writer and bid adieu to her acting/comedic life. Just as she began to write her first book which was entitled Portrait of The Artist as a Housewife (a collection of poems, stories and prosody celebrating domesticity and the humor inherent to micro wave ovens and backed up commodes), life grabbed her attention... harshly. She was dianoged with ovarian cancer and in the process, a much grittier book emerged... It's "Always Something", a defiantly irreverent moving memoir (which I have read many times these past 4 years).

Just like other women who struggle with the life threatening illness, Gilda mourned "my lost joy, my happiness, my exhileration with life." The day before her diagnosis, life stretched before her offering limitless possibilities. The moment after being told she had cancer, life's dimensions shrank to twenty four hour stretches... a fact every cancer patient comes to understand.

The truth is we go around thinking that real life is about adding a rec room to the basement, buying our first house, getting that new position, having that big HD TV but the truth is that is NOT about real life. Cancer, now that is real life. When you accept cancer, it is as if new systems within the organism automatically open -- like the oxygen masks that automatically drop into your lap on a 747 in an emergency. When you walk the earth with borrowed time, no matter how long that winds up being, each day on the calendar is a beloved friend you know for only a short time. The Present truly becomes a gift.

Can someone please tell me why we must find a lump in our breast or find out a PSA test is high before this occurs? Do any of my readers know because I sure as hell don't!

However, the one thing cancer has done for me (and to others I know and have known) is to allow me the right to start saying "no!" and to create boundaries and finally put down committment burdens without guilt (despite others who may try to make you feel guilty). Now I can ransom back my life.

Yes, it is always something but it doesn't ALWAYS have to have your name on it. That is why my prayer for my children, my grandchildren, my friends is that you never find a lump or get a high PSA and that, not matter what, you NEVER squander or surrender another precious day for ANY reason.

And if you, like me or my Tom, have already found your lump or your high PSA, I pray you will grow whole and old in joy, peace, and grace, gifting us and the world for many years with your wisdom, laughter, and love.

God knows we need it.

Blessed be.

Letting go.... and I am sorry

Amy Tan once wrote: "I did not lose myself all at once. I rubbed out my features over the years; washing away my pain the same way carvings on stone are worn away by water." Sound familiar to anyone? It resonnates deep within me today.. and echoes hauntingly every day.

I have been away from this blog for almost a month partly do to adversarial bullying but largely due to health reasons... my own and Tom's. Neither of us is fairing well, he, sadly, has been having a more difficult time than usual and we both know our time is short. We shall continue to support one another through these health battles and when one of us is gone, and one of us is left to carry on then....

Life has always been my adversary and like you dear reader, I hope I have proven a worthy opponent. Life batters us whether we are rich or poor, public or private. The wound we suffer may be an open cut or a slow, silent hemmorrhage of the spirit. On the outside I know I may look as if I have my act together, but right now, as has often occured in my life (and no doubt yours), I am in a dark and stormy place where I feel very small, very fragile, and very frightened. I feel as if I might shatter into a thousand pieces and break into a heart rending series of sobs at something as simples as a "how are you?" or the hug of a friend.

With the support of my doctors, my friends, my neighbors, and Tom, I am learning to be kinder to myself at moments like this; not to beat myself up as there are plenty of things and others to do that for me. I have learned to acknowledge the fact, that whether some like it or not, my feelings ARE valid, my fears are very real, and my needs are equal to the next persons.

I hope that each of you now reading this will recall during these difficult moments in life that your first duty is to love yourself into wholeness--into wellness. I know it is not that easy is it? So how then do we do this? By pampering yourself with simple pleasures and small indulgences. Could you bring home something wonderful for dinner? Maybe order carry out (or delivery) from your favorite Chinese restaraunt? How about treating yourself to your favorite potted plant (in my case cactus) or a bouquet of your favorite flowers (in my case daisies) If you can't take a day off from work just to indulge in a matinee, perhaps you could go by the video store, rent two or three classics and have a movie marathon with hot buttered popcorn. How about indulging in a trip to your favorite ice cream shop, or if you are like me, and hunger for the sun and the solitude of nature, a hike in the desert or a walk around your favorite park? Enjoy basking in the sunshine, listening to the birds chirp and watching other fauna play among the flora.

See you can. None of use has to do everything or be everything for everyone else ALL of the time. If you, like me, have reached the point where you can't possibly do one more thing without screaming or crying, your are probably right... so start right now by saying NO!. I am sorry. I have a prior commitment.

In truth, you do have a prior commitment. Today you need to be there for yourself. Remember we all need time alone once in a while... to revive, to reinvest, to nurture, calm and reclaim ourselves.

Then we will be ready to take on the hurdles, obstacles, pains, as well as the joys, laughter, and love of life.

As I have had to learn to let go as I reclaim my authentic life... the person I have always been but kept hidden because of others needs or judgements or anger... I have learned to care more for me... as I care and will continue to care for those I love; no matter what. And I have learned it is okay to be sorry...


I Am Sorry



It’s cold here in this valley

Now it always seems that way

And I never stop thinking about you

Each and every day



Thinking about our good times

The loss of which left me in such pain

Thinking about how bad it is

Doing anything without you again.



I am sorry for the way things are in our country

I am sorry things are not what they used to be

More than anything else

I am sorry for myself

Because you are not here with me.



Your friends ALL ask about you

I say I think you are doing fine.

And I expect you to walk through

The front door almost any time.



But they can see I have been crying

And I can’t sleep at night

They all know I am dying

Deep down inside



I am sorry for all the lies

They have told you

(But we both knew this

Was going to come)

I am sorry for the things I did not say

But more than anything else,

I am sorry for myself

I can’t believe she took you away.



I am sorry now for times taken for granted

I am sorry for the restraints and hate

they put on you

But more than anything else

Selfishly I am sorry for myself

For having to live without you.



You will always be my sunshine and my treasure.



I love you.

The Harmony of Life...

A Motzart concerto played by a new/young musician and by an established virtuoso will NOT sound the same. It would not be possible because the older more experienced musician has had a lifetime to practice the music as well as to learn when and where to pause in order to color the notes with passion. Ah, that is the true talent now isn't? Knowing when to pause to feel the passion and see the beauty.

This same truth follows each of us individually in the symphony of our lives. Individual notes must be learned and played and practiced, practiced, practiced before we can achieve harmony. And above all, we must learn that all important ability to pause...

In my life, I have come to understand that harmony is the inner beat of contentment I feel when the melody of life is in tune. When, somehow, I am able to strike just the right chord, hit the right notes to balance the expectations of family, friends and my responsibilities to the world on the one hand with my inner needs for spiritual growth, love, and personal expression with the other. This has probably been one of the most difficult challenges I have faced in my almost 55 years because it has required me to make choices every day. Oft times, in my day to day life, I find myself too tired to even decide what to make for dinner let make these major choices and yet... choices must be made. Perhaps that is why I, and probably you dear reader, only hear a cacophony of dissonant chords... the demands, chaos, and complaints that down out the symphonies of our souls.

In the past, when the distractions and chaos of life depleted my energy, the first thing I eliminated was the thing I needed most: quiet, reflective time. Time to dream, time to think, time to contemplate what's working and what is not, time to replenish the well so that I can make changes for the better... ones that will help me heal and allow me to be able to give more.

So I am learning, again, how to pause. I am learning to balance demands with pleasures, moments of solitude with the need for companionship, work with play (ah my greatest foible), activity with rest and the inner me with the outer packaging.

Today, I am deliberately slowing down. Not because cancer, fear, or exhaustion forces me to, but because spirit, love, and need call me to. I have approached this day, after a very stressful, chaotic night of harassment, anger, and hate, as if it were an adagio -- a melody played in an easy, graceful manner. Listen! Can you hear it? The music that soothes and uplifts your spirit?

Now, while you listen to this symphony with me, pause to consider how each indiidual note comes together in complete harmony with proper pauses to give expression to the entire piece.

So it shall be with my world and yours. With harmony as my guide, I am certain that my every day moments will begin to sing out in a rhapsody of fulfillment, joy, love and an end to chaos and want...

Vivaldi's Four Seasons is on my CD player... the smell of Apples and cinnamon emanates from candles... the house glows in peace... a glass of wine is waiting to be sipped and savored; care to join me?

Enjoy the music of your life... and dance.

There is No Scarcity

I have made a habit over the course of these last many years to spend my New Years Eve and day in quiet reflection. I have learned that there are years that ask questions and there are years that provide answers. 2010 provided me with answers, some I did not care for (most actually) but all opened my eyes to the realities of my life and what I have meant or not meant in the scheme of things. Through these revelations I had truly had an epiphany and am now adding the gratitude of an awakening heart to my nightly ritual of writing down five things I am grateful for.

I realized this morning that I was/am emotionally and physically exhausted from concentrating on things that I wanted to buy for others, for the house or just for me. Things I longed to buy or give, but due to the current economy and my own excessive medical bills, I cannot afford. I felt trapped in a vicious cycle. You see, the more I focused on the lack and on what I could not have (and this includes family as well as material things) the more depressed I became. The more depressed I became the more I focused on the loss and the lack. What my soul was whispering was that what I really yearned for was NOT financial or emotional security but financial and emotional serenity. Today, I was quiet enough to listen to my soul... to that Supreme being trying to show me the open door. What I hunger for is an inner peace that the world can not take away. Therefore, I asked for help and committed to following wheresoever the Universe leads me.

For the first time in my life I discarded my five-year goals I learned to make when I was working towards my Business Administration degree and simply surrender. I want to be a seeker, a pilgrim, and a sojourner.

Deciding to surrender my desire for security and seeking serenity instead, I looked at my life with open/honest eyes. I saw that I had much for which to be grateful. I felt humbled by my riches and regretted that I took for granted the abundance that already existed in my life. How could I or any one else for that matter, expect more from the Universe when I (we) did not appreciate what I already had.

So today, I took inventory of my life's assets: my health is not the best but I am still beating the odds and still here which leaves me open for choice and chance. I have a beautiful daughter and two sons who are making their way in the world, oft times through difficult times and even though we are currently estranged... I love them and am grateful that God allowed me to hold them for a little while. I have a small but comfortable place to live and a great landlord, wonderful neighbors and the laughter of children. I have the memories of 12 years with Jessica and of sharing so many wonderful times with her and I know she has those as well, I have two precious little dogs who daily bring me faithful companionship and joy. I have enough food (most of the time) and cool fresh water. I have a job which allows me to maintain my needs and that is truly all any one needs. And I have been blessed by the love of two wonderful men.. My Doug and Tom. Add to that the blessings of so many wonderful friends who care deeply for me and share in my life as I care about them and share in theirs.

I am still working on this list today and it continues to grow. I have written a new book of poetry which soon will be sent out into the world and hopefully will be well received. Many people have already told me that my writing touches their souls in some way and helps them feel or heal. I truly do believe that what you give to the world will be returned to you -- maybe not all at once or in the way you expect it -- but if I and you give our very very best, the very best must and will come back to us. Now!, not next week, next month, or when things improve, is the time for me to live my beliefs.

Looking at my life's ledger I realize that I am and always will be a very rich woman. What I and so many of us are currently experiencing is merely a cash flow problem, or a misunderstanding that love, patience, and time will heal.. I have come to the realization that my personal net worth cannot be determined by the size of my checking account balance... neither can anyone's

So now, my heart overflows with gratefulness. I am thankful for so many little, precious things. The sweet smell of the Harvest Apple candle burning on my living room table, the memory of the sweet fragrance of Jessicas hair after it was freshly washed and I combed it out for her. My first sip of flavored coffee this morning, the smoked turkey and all the trimmings dinner I made for friends on Christmas Day. I am grateful for being able to hear the words I love you before I went to sleep when my Jessie was here, my children were little, and as I curled up next to Doug as we went to sleep.

Each day offers me moments of pleasure and contentment... it does so for you as well. The important thing is for each of us to notice and appreciate each days gifts.. after all that is why it is called the present.

So today I ask each of you to open the eyes of your eyes and give your life another glance. Are your basic needs met? (mine are). Do you have a home? Food on the table? Clothes to wear? Is there a regular paycheck coming in? Do you have dreams? Can you walk, talk, see the beauty that surrounds you, listen to music that stirs your soul or makes your feet want to dance? Do you have family and friends whom you love and whom you know, deep down love you?

Then pause for a moment with me and with me give thanks. Let your heart awaken to the tranforming power of gratefulness. Be open to exchanigng your need for emotional and financial security for serenity.

Agnes De Mille once wrote "No turmpets sounds when important decisions are made in our life."

"Destiny is made known silently"

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos into order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a simple meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for our present and creates dreams for tomorrow.

Sweet dreams my friends.

Christmas Past

The tree is down. Ornaments and decorations have been put away. The photos of family Christmas' of years gone by, things my grandsons and granddaughters made for me have been tucked safely away in desperate attemtps to keep them safe for future years. I hold on to these memories fiercely now as so much from the past was lost.


The ornaments are always blessed reminders of Christmas's past... the blown out egg shell the Douglas made for me when he was a little boy, the photo Ornament of James when he was only 8 (he sold such items when he was a cub scout to help my pack earn money). Then there is the punched tin heart that Mary made out of a can top and the ornamets I made when each child was born. I have Jessicas ornaments... the ones I bought for her each Christmas and the ones we made the year I was unemployed after being laid of from Quest and did not have money to buy elaborate things. She did a beautiful job and I keep them safe for ever now. ). And I have two that I bought when James Christopher was born.. a silver teddy bear and an angel with a blue rose.

The Indian Nativity set ( I forget how many of those I actually made... each time giving it away to an admirer) now so old and yet still so loved. Jessica's nutcracker collection that we began for her when she was a mouse in the Nutcracker Ballet and which I will add to every year no matter what: she will have those and those beautiful porcelein dolls when I am no longer here.

I have one single satin ball from the very first Christmas Tree Doug and I ever put up.. We had so little money that year so we got a cheap little tree, one string of lights, a package of satin balls and tinsel (Doug loved his tinsel). We each had a little over five dollars left to buy presents with after that. I still have my present, the best one I ever received; Walt Whitman's "Leaves of Grass" which he got on sale from Waldens Book Store. I got him a Grand Funk Railroad record he had wanted (yes a record).


We managed to have our first Pike Family Christmas that year.,though most of the goodies were eaten by Doug and two of his friends before company ever arrived. And then he had to leave me to stand duty at Midnight. It was the loneliest Christmas Eve of my life. I think, however, poor and all, that truly was the best Christmas I ever had...



There have been many wonderful ones since and all have special memories... Douglas's first Christmas... James getting his very first scooter... the Star Wars ships and characters, GI Joe, Thunder Cats and more. Mary's first Christmas... laying in the arms of Santa, and the Strawbery short cake, Barbie, and She Ra toys that came in abundance for years.



Then there is the one Christmas when Mary had just turned one, where Doug and I had NO sleep as we struggled to put toys together in time before they woke up... we finish around 4 am and they were up before 5 !!! And when Mary was not quite four and Doug and I had once again been up late, hearing the boys getting their little sister out of bed so SHE could go and wake up Mom and Dad so everyone could see what Santa had Bought. The boys, so certain we could not turn the "baby" down... but we could not have turned them down either. I so loved Christmas mornings when they were small.

Years later, James managed to make his mother cry... I always put stockings up for every one (me too) but of course, as I was Santa..no one ever filled my stocking. One year I had taught James and Mary how to make ceramics... and to my surprise that Christmas morning my stocking was filled... with a handmade ceramic basset hound and a ceramic persian cat. Moving often sadly saw those precious items broken and lost to me.. but not the memory.

Then the saddest Christmas of all... the one after Doug died. I know I gave the children and friends all a good one and have the photos to show it but truly I do not remember it. Had it not been for the children and my need to keep things normal for them and for our new jewel... Jessie... I probably would have skipped it all together, donned sack cloth and ash and sat in the fireplace all night. But I pulled it off... Gingerbread house, stockings, HUGE tree.. and a wonderful Christmas Eve..
That night, before dinner, when I asked each attendee to tell me what they were thankful for, James again had me shed tears (which I had held back for all their sakes) by saying he was thankful for a strong mother. How I wish, today, he knew exactly how much strength I truly had, then sadly too.. I know eventually he will know and for that I am saddened greatly.

That Christmas morning, Mary came down the stairs holding her precious baby in her arms and for a few minutes... I felt her father.. The smile in her face that day can never be replaced and I spent a great deal of time this Christmas Eve after the guests had left looking over photos of that Christmas. Despite the turmoil of a custody battle that became drawn out and nasty... the death of her father... the loss of a love she found not to be real... my baby girl stood tall... and her little girl giggled and cooed and felt the love all around her.



One year later... another little one joined us and I still have the photo of JC dressed up in his own little Santa Suit lying in his fathers arms. That photo and memory made me write a poem for him which will be in the new book. He is a special little guy and I always tell him that.

This Christmas, they are estranged from me for reasons that many know and have learned the reality of. I have not seen them in over 5 months but I still held my traditional Christmas Eve where all who are in need of company, love, and Christmas spirit are welcome... and the happiness of the spirit filled me as I once again walked hand in hand with my god mother, my Uncle.. and my beloved Doug... I sent him roses that night when all had left.. over the fire I had built... and stood under Orion's belt wishing him a Merry Christmas after which I sang to him that song I sang to him Every Christmas Eve for 23 yeears... IS snow Falling?

I ached for my family and when it came my turn that night to say what I was thankful for, I gave thanks for each of them, expressed my sorrow at the rift between us and hoped they were celebrating together... even if without me. I was with them Christmas Eve as I am always in heart, mind, and soul. Sadly, a recent messaging between James and me made me realize how much was taken out of context in things they have read and that the lack of communication will never allow this to heal or be set to rights. It also made me realize the need to move forward with the legal plans necessary to ensure that they finally do see and know the truth. I can only bring the hose to water but I cannot make them drink. However, legal realities and documents in black and white sadly will. I did not ever want to do this.

I hope, someday they will remember that where I have brought others into my life.. whenever it comes down between their needs and mine or those of others... I have always put their needs first. So too have I done as to my health concerns (as I saw what the cancer etc was doing to them)... and would I do today if their need was such I had to release any hopes and dreams to keep them safe. I know they know that to be true.. as it has been done over and over again.


Now, as the ornamets are now put away this Christmas Eve, and I set the house to rights, I feel this old year ebbing away. It has not been a good one. Health issues, financial issues, family misunderstandings and alienation... and realities I will have to make known because of these misunderstandings which I have long kept hidden), have made it an uphill battle, but it has also been a year filled with love, laughter.. adventure and positive things like a job, a RE license, a decent home to live in, great trips and fun with my granddaughter Jessica, a great landlord, great friends and extended family and the love of another man.. different then the one with Doug... more mature and based more on intellectual then physical needs but which will never replace my Doug. And hope.



I am blessed and so look forward to the New Year and Christmas' yet to come.



God bless everyone. Happy New Year.

( Jessie bear... I am always here for you and mommy... and will leave anything and everyone if you ever really need me. I am here.)



.