Life Topics

Abduction – #MeToo

window_backgroundMediumREPOST:

I was almost abducted.  It took two weeks of being followed for me to realize that I was in danger.

My best friend and I would frequently walk the neighborhood, going to the corner store, or just taking walks to pass time.  We noticed a man in a van waving his private parts as he drove by.  We were at the age where we didn’t quite understand what was happening, but knew somehow it was wrong.  We finally asked each other if we saw what we saw, and we were in agreement that we did see something creepy.

Not mentioning it to anyone, I set out to do my daily paper route one day, not knowing what lay ahead.
As I walked the sidewalks that I’d walked a million times, I saw the van drive down the street.  Looking up from my routine, I saw this man wave his genitals as he drove by.  I began to panic. I felt my pulse quicken and was in a state of confusion.  I did, however, understand that this fear was real.  My house was nearby, so I ran inside to tell my mother.

Upon entering the house, I crouched down, as to not be seen through the windows, and confessed to my mother that I was a target of this deranged person.  She calmly told me that I had nothing to worry about, and that I should say the Lord’s Prayer and Psalm 23:4, and I would be fine.  She continued to say that I should finish my paper route, and to not worry.

I don’t know why I continued the paper route, or why I even left my house, but my mother said to say the Lord’s Prayer, and that’s what I was going to do.  She said I would be safe and I halfheartedly believed her.  As I took a side street, connecting two major roads, I saw the van again.  This time, it was slowly turning onto the side street heading toward me.  I was on the 3rd or 4th Psalm 23:4 as the van approached me.  Without any premeditated thought, I instinctively ran into an overgrown grassy corner lot, heading toward the middle and layed flat on my stomach, paper sack by my side.

I held my breath, as to not have the grass move to give away my location.  I remember feeling shocked as the van stopped on the side of the road and the driver’s door opening and closing.  I was petrified.
He was coming after me, and I had no protection, nowhere to go.  I could see him approaching the lot through the grass. “ The Lord is my shepherd…the Lord is my shepherd.”  Then all of a sudden, I saw him re-enter his van, as another car came driving up the side street.  He didn’t want to be seen I realized, he didn’t want to get caught.  He was going to let me go.

After about 20 minutes of lying flat on my belly, I realized that the coast was clear.  I should have ran home, but I had a paper route to finish.  So, I collected myself and continued my route.  But, it didn’t take long before he appeared again.  I didn’t know what to do this time.  I was safely canvasing my customer’s homes, keeping close to their doorways and away from the sidewalk.  But, it wasn’t enough.  I was inflamed with the psychological toll this was taking on me.  I was not safe, and I had stopped saying the prayer.

Finally, I had enough.  I was delivering a paper to the back door of a customer, when the van stopped at the end of the driveway.  Luckily, the customer was in his back yard.  I implored him to help me, trying to explain what was happening, without getting into the gory details.  Right about halfway through my plea, the van pulled up at the end of the driveway.  The customer was at his back door, not visible from the street.  I stopped to catch my breath and saw a devious smile from behind the van’s glass.  The customer stepped away from his backdoor, and looked toward the street.  The van peeled out with a loud sound of the revved engine and burning rubber.  I pointed toward the van to tell my customer that this was the man following me.  My customer called my father to tell him that I needed to be picked up.  “The Lord is my shepherd there is nothing I shall want.”

Detectives came to my house a couple of days later to question me about the incident.  It was during Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer.  I hated to have to stop watching my favorite show.  They asked me all kinds of questions about the pervert, which I answered completely and truthfully.  My father sat at the table with us.

I learned a few weeks later that the man was caught, and that my mother didn’t want me to go to court to relive the entire events again.  That was fine with me at the time.  However, looking back, I can’t understand why she didn’t want him off the streets.  Would someone else know to say the Psalm 23:4 when stalked?  And, most importantly, I wondered why my mother didn’t protect me at the time.

I have now come to terms with what happened.  I trusted my mother, and she trusted God.  It was her way of dealing with the situation.  It was 1974, and these things didn’t happen in suburbia, or so we thought.  I would have protected my children in a much different way, but this was her way.

I have said the Lord’s Prayer and Psalm 23:4 under my breath many times since the near abduction.  There will always be predators amongst us, but they won’t take me.  They can’t take me.  Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil.  Who knows what saved me that day.  Could it have been prayer, or quick instincts?  I’ll never really know for sure.

Can I get an AMEN?!?!

Life Topics

Bless McDermott

I’m still in love with my first love.

A new puppy that is playful and happy, but he can’t live up to all that I had.  He never will  be  the hound I knew and loved.

Please, Lord, help me to love this new one.  Help me to understand and appreciate all that he brings into my new life.  Help me to erase some of the memories that I still hold dear.  I don’t want to let it all go, but I have to remove myself from the memories if I am to be a good mother.

Bless McDermott, let me be the mother I need to be, let me love him like he has been the only one.
He deserves that.
Let me give scratches and praise like I’ve never done before.

I am still in love with my hound, but will learn to love another.

Bless McDermott.

Life Topics

In the mouth

Everything goes into the mouth; toys, socks, shoes and whatever is laying in his path.  There is a fine line between the habits of a young child and a new puppy.  The destruction can seem epic, or at least serious enough to cause momentary insanity.  I’ve bid goodbye to a handmade quilt I made that was disassembled because of boredom, with the hand sewn seams ripped apart by sharp white baby teeth.  I wanted to cry as I looked at the batting laying all around him on the bed like happy puffy clouds.  His tail was wagging when I walked in on the perfect storm – teething puppy and delicious quilt.

The quilt was only the beginning.  Did I mention the small rug that was ripped apart?  Oh, that was a proud moment for McDermott.  Pulling the threads up from the mat with intense concentration, occasionally chewing a stray thread.  He stopped mid pull to look at me with great pride. “Look what I did Mommy” shined in his eyes.  Oh the joy he felt in sharing his accomplishment.  Again, I wanted to scream, but instead pulled the rug away from him, telling myself, “he’s only a baby, he’s only a baby.”  I walked off to look for a chew toy to keep him busy until the next disaster.

If the oral fixation isn’t enough to drive me crazy, there is the jumping.  Oh yes, jumping to eat, jumping for attention, jumping when excited, jumping when bored.  This exercise is usually followed by frenzied running about the house with his oversized paws, sliding into couches and tables with his long legs getting wrapped around each other.  His favorite thing to do is jump on the end table, and launch himself, flying high, onto the couch.  I have to admit this makes me laugh every time, even though I shouldn’t let him do it.  If I was an Olympic Judge, I’d rate his landing a 10.0.  And, I think he believes this IS a competition because he sits at the end of the couch waiting for a treat after his performance.

Don’t get me wrong.  I love my new puppy and look forward to him mellowing out with age, just like the rest of us.  For the most part, he is well behaved, but in those moments of silence I can be sure something is dreadfully wrong.  “Why is it so quiet?” I think to myself.  And, sure enough, there is always something in his mouth; a shoe, a  rug, underware, or a slipper.  The other day, he was gnawing on the leg of my antique Empire table.  Needless to say, his strong little jaws caused extensive damage. I just shook my head, and looked for a chew toy for him.  Sigh.

Like all new mothers, there are days that I reach exhaustion very quickly.   I am confident in my reserve of patients, knowing that shit happens.  I try to keep up with our training lessons, but his cuteness tends to win me over.  I don’t want to be “the bad guy.”  Jamie is the alpha-dog, I’m just one of the pack.  He follows me everywhere and loves me unconditionally, and that makes me happy.  After all, isn’t that the reason we get puppys?  His playfulness is infectious, his kisses are pure comfort.

He will outgrow puppyhood one day, so I should appreciate the fanatical energy while it’s here.
You can always buy new rugs and new shoes.  Not sure I can replace the Empire table, but I’ll learn to live with the chewed leg.  Silence will not always scare me, it will be a time to sit with my dog and enjoy his company.

Until then…where is McDermott? Where did I put his chew toy?!?!

Life Topics

Rescue

No words can convey the loss of my best friend.

He trusted, he loved, he cherished and he howled.
He brought peace and comfort.

He gave of himself fully without being guarded.
He had the soul of a child, up to his old age, up to the end.

He believed that I would always take care of him,
and I did.

The day you left made my soul scream in pain,
but I did it for you.  I did it for you.

I breathe you in without seeing or hearing you.
You could never be replaced.  Never.

Your paw print rests in my heart and on my soul.
I’ll never be the same without you, and I thank you
for rescuing me that beautiful day at the shelter.

Forever yours.

Life Topics

Until the Wind Meets the Sun

scoutUntil the Wind Meets the Sun

As many of you are aware, my dog has dementia.  Yes, you heard that correctly. Dogs get dementia just like people do, at least that’s what the vet said.  I realize there is a bit of a giggle factor when I say this.  People have asked, “how does the vet know he has dementia.”  All I know is his behavior showed up on her checklist; staring at the wall, barking for no reason, confusion.  He had them all, especially the barking.  We were given medication to make him comfortable and help reduce the symptoms.  So far the barking has lessened, but my concerns have grown.

You see, he doesn’t have years to live, he has months.  I’m not prepared to let go.  At 13 years old, Scout is on the other side of the mountain.  Sleeping and eating have become his main activities – no more toys, no more running. The tennis ball he used to fetch sits in a basket, caked with dirt and memories. I don’t have the heart to throw it out.  I reflect on the puppy years as I look at the ball, wondering how his muzzle got so grey.  Thinking about how many times I would throw the ball into the lake and with labored breath, he would paddle back with the ball in his mouth, excited for the next throw.  He couldn’t wait.  And, a branch was like candy to him whether it was thrown, or he just picked it up in the yard.  It was his treasure, as he pranced around showing it off.

He was a crazed puppy who joyed in the destruction of clothing and furniture.  Not to mention that he took 6 months to become house-broken.  Every time I turned around he would be gnawing on a coffee table, or come trotting out from a bedroom with underwear in his mouth.  And, if you didn’t walk him, when he wanted to walk, the destruction escalated to pillows and couches.  He was the worst puppy.  I was terrible at disciplining Scout, but Jamie played “Bad Cop” to improve his horrible behavior.  It worked over time, as we stuck by him as he grew into a steady old dog, and a great friend.

Since we got Scout at 4 months old, he has always enjoyed boat rides.  That will never change.  We have to lift him onto the seat just like we do in the car now.  Sitting up in a regal pose, he points his nose to the air to smell neighborhood cookouts, or other scents we could not imagine.  His eyes close, like he is infused with the delight of it all.  The wind his muse, the sun his lover. The two are one in the same to him.  We are there to complete the meeting, and keep him company.  He sits in the seat, or moves to the floor to adjust his outlook allowing him to catch scraps of food that fall off our plates.  We gladly share with him.  Each voyage is one of relaxation feeling the simple pleasure of being in a loving family.

Scout lays at my feet while I type, just happy to be next to me.  He will always be my baby-puppy no matter how old he is, or how confused he now gets.  He has been with us since he was a few months old, but it feels more like a lifetime.  He has worn his loyalty over the years, sitting next to me when I lay crying on the couch, or jumping on me when I got home from work.  Our emotional lives are intertwined, and for that I am thankful.  People who lack a special kind of commitment don’t deserve the love of a dog.  For the gifts that dogs will bring you, can leave you vulnerable, exposing your heart in unimaginable ways.  I am happily exposed.

Scout follows me from room to room, ending up under my desk where I work.  A hound needs to be touching, and will often put his paw on my foot, letting me know he is there.  I take a break from typing, reaching down to soothe him with my words, while giving him with a few scratches  He looks at me with his hound dog expression and chocolaty eyes; that tell me, “I’m still here, I remember you, and now it’s time to eat.”

His wish is my command, until the wind meets the sun, and he will be a whisper in my ear for the rest of my life.

Life Topics

The Wind

Open the windows and let
the wind bring memories and farce.
Your hair blows in your face, shake it off.
Drink in the beat.

Speed up, and turn up the radio, let the volume lull you into a place of desire; a place of wonder and imagination.
Tell the truth, you’ve never wanted me.

Sigh, sing and swallow.  It’s just a moment,
it’s just a fantasy.  The world outside is just a snap.
You are here by yourself and with the world,
all at the same time.

Dreams are put together in a moment.
Dream big.

Life Topics

Be Yourself

What is my motivation?  Not long term plans, but the daily actions and decisions I make.  Are my motions based on baggage that I carry, or do I have pure, honest intentions?  Why must I analyze this?  Why must I spend my brain cells on figuring out why I move the way I move; do the things I do?   I know because I have a conscience, and care about the way I treat others, and more importantly, how I treat myself.   How do you treat yourself?

Take a deep breath, and live in the moment, no, not immediate gratification.  No.  It’s more like wiping the slate clean and seeing things clearly. Take this opportunity to write your own story.   I tend to exhale from a drag of a cigarette (which I don’t recommend)  and think of these type of things.  I’ve learned so much through reflection,  in combination with my experience and my dreams.  If I combine both, I feel complete peace – knowing what is important, and what is not.    It allows me to make smart decisions.  All you have to do is the math.  Find the lowest common denominator, and don’t look back at the clutter.  That is your jumping off point.

Don’t over-think, over-compare, over-compensate, over-exagerate or over- analyze.  Make things as simple as possible.

What I’ve learned from reflection:  Be kind, be genuine, be generous, be loving, be honest.  Be yourself.

That is all.

Life Topics

Knit Sip Knit

I’ve taken up knitting as a hobby to pass time and as a mode of meditation.  I often call knitting “mind numbing.”   It’s the kind of feeling  I need at the end of a long day, like wiping the slate clean. I pair my love of knitting with my
enthusiasm for wine.  I should clarify that my enjoyment of drink trumps my hobby, but when joined together, I really get “in the zone”.

So, knit one, perl two, sip three and so on.  I love the look and feel of the yarn and like feeling the cables as they take form.   The twists manipulate the body of work, while providing me with visual confirmation that I haven’t screwed up.   I count stitches, I pull the yarn from the ball when it gets taught, and I take a drink after every fourth or fifth row.  I knit fast.  The wine tastes as good as the yarn feels.  Each sip is like a reward for a job well done.

Sometimes I lose count of stitches, swear, and just pick up hoping I haven’t caused a crafty disaster. Time for another sip.  I am a beginner so there is no end to the scarf and hat parade that I’ve created.  I tried a sweater once, and ended up with sleeves fit for Popeye.  However, I am not discouraged.  I will re-try the sweater thing, just after I finish my latest scarf.

In truth, I don’t know which activity I like more, so I combine both.  I get as excited to buy yarn as I do buying a bottle of my favorite wine.   It may sound like more of an addition than hobby, but I am in complete denial.  Knitting is a reason to sip, sipping is a reason to knit.  I keep my hands busy and my mind clear.  Stress melts away with each click of the needles crossing each other.

The slate is clean.

Life Topics

Your Garden

flowerpotssmallHope holds the bended branch
in the wind, looking to
fight the weight of air.
The trunk stays firm.

See beyond what is
today, to the place
where the water pools
and the crickets sing.
Read the signs that
that tell you there is more.

Lift your dreams with
the gentleness of a whisper.
Hold firm your intentions, but
let them speak for themselves;
a garden of seeds  packed firm
into the warm ground.

Thoughts drift like the snow,
blanketing the ground you
trust.  A momentary distraction has
no strength to change your mind.

You are undeniable.