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I’m Still Standing And The Sun Is Glorious!

Posted on May 25, 2012 by Nora L Pratt

Yep, I’m still standing, and standing, and standing… Wow!  After a blow like that, one would think I would be on the ground!  But it takes a lot to take an old lady of $& years down… (what?  you thought I’d give my age? not in a million years!)…  No.  I’m still standing and have no intention of being disheartened.  Almost a year ago I was seriously thinking of taking my life ( yes… I said that).   It was an extremely dark and grim time of my life; much of  my self-esteem was wrapped up in my work (a place that was not very supportive at all) and I allowed myself to be overwhelmed with thoughts of “it’s too late, what will happen if?”  Or, “how will I ever pick up from here, I have nothing.”  And today, with all that has happened, I can’t tell you the relief.  So much can happen in just a short amount of time… so it goes to show, when you find yourself having a bad day/week/month? Wait it out… the tide always turns.  And my tide is turning (finally).

The once stormy sea is as calm as it was before the ever tumultuous thrashing this economy has wreaked on most of the world; that  and what would be known as the afflictions of life’s trials with family sickness, remorse and estrangement.  Yes, the skies are of brilliant sky-blue against the deep aqua blue of the ocean with its white-capped waves.  I see this in my mind as this is how my life feels it is turning.  Life has its seasons and it is no secret that I was in a LONG winter.  I now feel spring has arrived and is here for the long haul.  The sun is shining on my face and I can taste the salt from the ocean on my lips.  Yes, spring is finally here (figuratively speaking) and I am going to revel in all of its experiences.

Even with all the disappointments of last week (trust me there were many), I feel refreshed, back to my old self (oops, that word ‘old’).  But even the word/feeling known as ‘age’ or ‘old’ can’t sand away my smooth edges and ruffle my feathers (not today).  I’ve since spoken to Jordan, by the way.  We came to an understanding and he understands where I was coming from and I understand him…  So, now it’s simply a case of enjoying our friendship.  Hey, at least he called; most guys would have just shined me on and waited several weeks or never called at all.  He truly is a good guy, just a bit over loaded is all.

I’m proud of myself though.  I’m seeing people more clearly and not making excuses for them.  I’m not going into relationships with the intention that I can ‘change’ them.  Nope, I see who they are and can either live with it or not and simply move on.

To say I hold no judgement would say I’m perfect and unless you know something I don’t… well need I say more?  We all get caught making assumptions about each other or getting our feelings hurt because “they should have known better.”  I think the point is that ‘we’ should be big enough to accept apologies and hear each other out.  If we can’t then we lose; not the other way around.

As I’ve said before (we’ve all said it before); life is too short.  There comes a time when you are brought to task and must step up.  Sometimes it will be for that friend of yours when you overhear someone else talking smut about them.  Or maybe it’ll be when you hear a co-worker sexually harassing another co-worker, or simply saying “I’m sorry.”  In any event, you will find yourself at that pivotal point when you will have the choice to say or do something; and when you don’t?  You will regret it.  And you know something?   It is the worst feeling in the world and there is no way to take those moments back.

Now, there may be no way to take back ‘those’ moments; but you can make it a point to make it up and move forward with the conviction that you will make the difference.

Yea, the ‘winter’ season has come to a close for the time being and I’m enjoying the wondrous season of spring.  My divorce will be final soon and

English: Yellow Poppy taken at Vijay Chowk, Ne...

English: Yellow Poppy taken at Vijay Chowk, New Delhi (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

soon that phase/part of my life will be my past.  I’m still not too sure how I feel about it.  I cried when I received the paperwork (it was all so final), but know that this was the best decision I ever made for me; not for my family, not for my ex-husband, but for me.  And in a small way for my ex.  He can now find someone to better suit him. (or not).

So much has been learned and there is so much to learn (STILL!).  But I’m enjoying the process, truly.   Here is a wonderful quote I found today:

“Expect to have hope rekindled. Expect your prayers to be answered in wondrous ways. The dry seasons in life do not last. The spring rains will come again.”~Sarah Ban Breathnach

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Divorce, Disappointment, Dealling With It

Posted on May 21, 2012 by Nora L Pratt

First, this is a REALLY difficult piece as it shows just how vulnerable I

Broken heart sewn back together

Broken heart sewn back together (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

am… so place your judgment at the door as I try to just sift through my own feelings (I’ve got plenty of judgement about the turn of events for all of us, trust me).  This past week was met with such promise, such enthusiasm.  Many of you will say “Ann what did you expect?”  That is, once I divulge to you exactly what it was I did.  For about  the past year I had seen someone; not physically, no.  But on the phone we had amazing conversations.  He and I met at a party my best friend had last year.  Oh, our conversation was fiery as we debated and cajoled each other.  At one point I could swear it got so hot we could have taken each other right then and there.

Yea… we wanted one another.  But I wasn’t that kind of girl, besides I had only just met the man!  He got my number from my girlfriend and started calling me.  We talked for hours on the phone.  As my sister got sick, he would check on me to see how I was doing.  As he was going through trials I would check on him.  We became a support system for each other.

There were times where we hadn’t spoken for a few weeks, but then we would be at it again.  (life happens).  But that never stayed that way for long and in would come a call; it was him.  That handsome devil; a smile would reach my face and I would answer the phone and our conversation would start-up as if it had never ended.

When my sister died it was as if he just knew.  He called out of the blue; we started back up and he and I were inseparable (on the phone).  Then we got to thinking about finally getting together.  This of course made me very nervous.  All kinds of thoughts ran through my head (mostly about my appearance… what will he think?) and mostly about his intentions.  I mean, the first thing he thought of when we started talking was about getting into the sack.  To which I explained that wasn’t happening… not until I knew him better.

Well, I drove down and we had a wonderful time, or so I thought.  Then the next day came and he decided to take me out, yet I was to be the driver (?).  Back up the bus!  So, that put a minor crimp in my feathers… I did drive 400 miles down to visit him.  Anyway, suddenly I’m not feeling so warm and fuzzy… funny thing about women.  Men, you must realize that we need to be romanced.

So, we are at lunch and he starts in on me and how cold I’ve become (hmm… wonder why?).  And that he just wants things like how we were on the phone.  So, here I am trying to think “how do I tell this guy what I Dick I think he is?  I mean… can’t the dude drive?  I just drove 400 miles, like yesterday; and am damn tired of driving!  Damn!  I don’t have it in me to be ‘warm’”

So I try, gently telling him how I feel.  But it’s more to it and I can feel that too.  I’m feeling conned (don’t ask me how… just know in my gut).  So, I shake it off, we go catch a movie, laugh a lot and go back to his place.  Where he washes my car and gives me some left over chicken (hm… this guy really pulls out all the stops doesn’t he?).

Then off to bed we go…

All the while I’m there he can’t tell me enough how he doesn’t want to let me go, how he just can’t get enough of me.  He wants me to move down and asking me how we are going make this new relationship work.  He even let’s the ‘l’ word slip out.  Oh, this guy is good.

I left on Tuesday to stay with my girlfriend, was home on Wednesday and that evening he called me just to make sure I made it home OK.  I told him I was in rehearsal and asked if I could call him later to which he replied, “don’t call after 10:00…”  What?  Back up the bus!  This coming from the same man who just a week ago said, “oh baby, you can call me anytime, I always want to talk to you.”

Really!  Oh my God!  I’ve been demoted.  This dude will stop at nothing.  So, to date; I’ve still not received a call.  Why not just call him you ask?  You see, in the game of love there are some cardinal rules.  First, let’s remember that I did take the first leap of faith and walked into a situation that I had no idea of what I was getting myself into.  I mean I knew his friends (good friends of his, people he’d know his whole life… I knew he was no serial killer).  But still, I did the drive (a 400 mile drive to be exact).  It should be he that is making every effort to make sure I’ve not made a mistake and don’t feel foolish.

Well, I feel foolish… but you know something?  I’m always going to trust people.  Now I’d like to say that eventually I’ll be smarter about these things, but I won’t.  I’m still going to be just as gullible as I was the day I was born.  I’m just a gullible girl.

But it sure has placed me back into hiding again; not sure I want to go back on the ‘dating train’ again.  Not sure I want to fade all that rejection.  There was more to it that just the lack of calling after our meeting.  Oh, I ended up writing him the follow:

Dear Jordan

 First I wanted to thank you for a wonderful weekend as it was great getting to know you.  The power outage was merely a crimp in our event and, though a test that could have dampened our possibilities; it wasn’t the outage, Christopher or my playing chauffeur on Monday that spoils my memory.  Your lack of interest since then is what puzzles me.

 You insist that you are like no other man; and you furthered your insistence with your ‘sales pitch’ of what you would do for me if I were your girl.  But there are “Speakers” and “Doers”, my dear friend.  And you are a “Speaker, someone with whom I don’t see spending my life.

 You must know how I feel.  After all, I drove 400 hundred mile to see you and it was me, who took that leap of faith (not having a clue what I was walking myself into).  Therefore, the way I see it, it should be you who should see to it that I am comfortable, confident, wanted, secured in my decision, wanted and loved.  I don’t feel those things, Jordon… I feel foolish.

 Jordan, I’m not a complicated woman; but I do read between the lines.  Our last telephone conversation said it all to me; you were terse and cold and said in reply to my request to call you back, “don’t call me after 10:00…”  This after “oh baby, you can call me anytime.  You know I want to talk to you, Babe.”  Wow!  What a change, eh?

 So Jordan, I guess this is good-bye.  I’m no Chump… I was… and perhaps will be again.  But I somehow think you changed that.  Before, I was ‘on the lamb’ in search of myself.  Now, I’m ‘on the lamb’ out of fear; fear of feeling this hurt.

You should be proud, you accomplished what most men could not – you got me out of hiding… But I’m no Medea… yea, I knew about her; why do you think I waited so long?

Yep, you win – I’m yet another conquest – or did you?

 Good luck to you Jordon… Hope you’re happy in this life you’ve chosen for yourself.

Ann

So, where do I go from here?  Well, I still have some of my dignity left and I have my friends and my bird.  I can’t look back.  I am divorced, that’s a fact and am told that the sadness that has accompanied that will pass.  Divorce is a death; death of dreams, death of a relationship that was once very important to me; it was nurtured.    I seriously can’t believe he (Jordan) took so much time to wait this out for a ‘conquest’ but, I must face facts and realize that the dude has issues.  Issues that I am in no place to deal with.

So, I move forward.  I’m thinking of asking my lyricist friend to maybe write some lyrics out of that letter… possibly write a song (lol).  Isn’t that how it’s done?  Ah!  Anyway, divorce and disappointment and I’m dealing with it; in more ways than one.

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Eating Crow So Much – I think I’ll take seconds!

Posted on May 11, 2012 by Nora L Pratt

On May 5th the memorial for my sister finally came together and was beautiful.  Life is one long journey.  Along this path

Heart-shaped cloud

Heart-shaped cloud (Photo credit: aivas14)

we hop, skip, jump, run; we meet friends and foe.  We may stumble and may even fall; however, no matter how hard we fall, we must pick ourselves up and keep on going.  This past week I’ve ‘stumbled’ across some weary hearts.  Some with the regret of “if only” hovering over their weary heads; if only  they  had  seen my sister in her final days to reassure her of their love.  While others, never knowing the trials she faced, could only bask in the memory of her light.  To them (all of them) I want to share the reminder that there are no regrets.  She knew how much they loved her (deep down, she knew).  Regret is a tough emotion; one I’ve come to know all too well.

What does this tell me/tell us?  That the passing of a soul, however long or short on this earth, was not in vain.  She made her ‘mark’ with every passing day and with the stroke of a pen; she made her mark.  I watched and listened as others told their stories of my sister.  And as I listened I learned and placed their reflection into memory.  She honed her craft of nurturing friendships and relationships and many were in awe of this woman I know simply as Kimball.

She fought a battle that many men would not dare fight, many might even scurry from in fear.  But she fought this battle with courage/bravery when so many would wallow in self-pity asking the terminable question; why? Why me? And although there were many days where she wondered this tantamount question; she braved it, knowing her eminent fate.  She braved the smile, the carefree way she had of placing others needs before her own.  She wore the mask of courage and wore it well.

In the weeks following her death I’ve been ridiculed for speaking my thoughts and discussing the trials (both of my family and my own).  I’ve been told I’m nothing more than a ‘tattle tailing’ blog who only looks at the story of her family/friends scornfully.  [if that is what you've read, I am sorry.  That simply is/was not my intention].  I write for my awakening and to give a glimpse into the life of someone who has gone through what you, my readers, might be  going through so that we can know we are not alone.

Green Heart (And the Green Grass Grows All Aro...

Green Heart (And the Green Grass Grows All Around, All Around) (Photo credit: CarbonNYC)

This journey has not been an easy one.  To date I’ve witnessed my mother’s deterioration – both mentally and physically – and eventual death; have been witness to my brother drinking himself into oblivion – a man who once wowed all who surrounded him – talking about what he would like to do with his gifts (of which he has multitudes), but will most likely never see them go into fruition (the demons are simply too strong).  I’ve been through separation after twenty plus years of marriage and witnessed my own sister’s struggle with cancer and journey to death.  And it is not my sister’s battle that puzzles me; it is, instead, the lashing out that I’ve received from those I thought were my friends, many of whom had been through the same.   One would think they would have compassion.  But, this writer has found that just as I thought I was to blame for their misunderstanding and rude conduct; I’ve finally concluded that perhaps it isn’t me that has the problem.  Maybe, just maybe, they are the one’s with serious issues.

I know what I’ve done and can proudly say I stood by my mother and my sister.  I stood by them, watched them (watched over them) and protected them as best I could.  There was no manual and we can only do what we feel is best at that particular time.  Yet, I have been judged for what I’ve done (or not done).  How that judgment can be I just don’t know.  For unless you’ve walked a mile or so in someone elses shoes; well, there is simply nothing anyone has a right to say/do/judge (words I myself have had to humbly swallow).

My family all came together for the memorial, we had friends step up to the plate and many just weren’t sure what to do.  No matter, we all do what it is that we are able.  To all of them, I cherish you and cherish your strength and all you’ve given me and my family.  People with whom I never would have expected became Angels [Earthly Angels]; something I was foretold would happen if I would simply allow it.

We are vastly approaching the two month mark of my sister’s passing.  I’ve just received my divorce papers and know that that is on its way to completion.  There are just too many things going on in my life.  But, I still find time to reflect and my sister had a wonderful gift (many actually) and it is my intention to learn from them.  To cherish each person that journey’s into and through my life.  Some are only temporary, while others are here for a lifetime.  I cherish each and everyone and to Kimball; I will always carry your heart.

I have a favorite poem that pretty much says it all.  And to those, all those I love (past and present and both among us and those who have passed on) I give you the following poem is by E. E. Cummings.

I CARRY YOUR HEART WITH ME by E. E. Cummings
I carry your heart with me(I carry it in
my heart)
I am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
I fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)
I want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
Here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)
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Nearing Week 4 – Blessings Are Counted (But the Grief Still Hits Like a Wave; of Bricks).

Posted on April 15, 2012 by Nora L Pratt

I can’t believe it’s been almost a month since the death of my sister. I still can’t believe she’s gone.  I sit in this house, look around at all the things, her things, things she bought at the grocery store and still, at almost a month after her death, I keep expecting to see her reflection in the sliding glass door as I come in through the front room.  The emptiness at the realization of the empty couch is startling.

I’ve been sick this past week; flu?  Could be; though I’m beginning to think it is nothing more than heartbreak.  For some reason I thought it would be getting easier with time and all I’ve been witness to this past week is that the pain feels even  more severe.  I used to have solace in the knowing that there was family close by.  Someone who knew me when…  Someone who, no matter what I’ve done in the past, present; would love me regardless.  Now, I just feel alone.

I know what many are thinking, “just get on with it and get out there… get involved and get over it.  Keep yourself moving, moving will help you.”  Oh boy, how that is so much easier said than done; for me anyway.  There are days I can barely lift my head.  Why?  Why now?  I go over those last few weeks in my head; and I go over this last year, like a movie.  I’ve kept her texts and read them and I can help but ask myself if only I had kept her voice mail messages; just something to keep so I could hear her voice; then again, it would more than likely just drive me deeper into depression.  Best to keep her in my mind’s eye.

It is best to keep moving; for life does go on and it doesn’t stop just because I’m grieving.  I’ve been working a little in the yard, mowing the lawn.  Turning my cursing into compliments such as, ‘hey, you been workin’ out?’ (I’m shouting this over the sound of the mower).  ‘Yea baby, I’ve been mowing the lawn!’  My neighbors I know think I’m nuts… but what a wonderful way to get through the grueling chore.  It certainly placed a pep back in my step.  As I placed the mower back, I pulled a couple young weeds and breathed in the sweet scent of fresh-cut lawn (God I love that smell), and thought to myself, ‘life is good.’

Life goes on and I simply don’t know what to do.  People continue to talk to me and look at me as if I’m the most fragile of dolls; and I’m not quite sure what to make of that.  Though, I did start crying at a client the other day who was going to cancel her $300. plus order if she couldn’t get these certain cosmetic bags in time – really?… I found myself bending upside and backward for this woman who was more confused than I.   “If I can’t have those bags today”, she would threaten; then it was “tomorrow before noon”, first she needed them for people here, then for people on her trip.  I don’t think she knew which end was up.  Unfortunately, neither did I at the time…  So, ‘melt-down’… Ah well, once again I found myself in an unavoidable situation where I really needed to use that ever necessary ‘edit button’; you know, the one that has melted away through these past few months?  As luck would have it all turned out and my client DID get her product (bags and all) way under deadline (whew!).  Sometimes there are forces (Thank you Kimball) beyond our control working in our favor.

But it is really interesting, I’m finding ‘guts’ I didn’t think I had when it comes to things like my craft.  All of a sudden I’m letting people know what I do, who I am and am opening up more.  Now, I’m also opening up to ridicule, but hey… Se la vi…  We all get this.

But windows are opening and that, in turn, is forcing those doors open that were once shut.  I’ve been able to peak in through the doors of past opportunity and have a better understanding that I’m really not so sad to have lost that opportunity.  (Not such a loss)  However, I did learn from it, ALL of ‘IT’.  And will continue to learn from all my experiences; there is no turning off the learning.

I have many blessings in this life, I have no idea what will happen with my life as I start out on the next leg of it.  But I don’t have to know this right now.  I start divorce proceedings this week (something more to grieve, but it only stings a little).  And at least my ex is on board with the whole process, so that is a good thing.  At which time, my life truly will be my own.  So many things to do, see, try.  So many blessings to be counted.  I’ve had much grief (this is true); it a part of life, and is what shapes us like a stone carver might use a ‘rock shaper’.  The emotions are tough to go through, but they are necessary and we have a choice, we can choose to be bitter at our losses.  Or, we can choose to live through the loss, feeling each feeling; patiently allowing it to shape our character into the masterpiece we are to become.

It is difficult to take the roughness of its cloth, but then there is rest (always rest).  Only to start again, and with each start the rests come that much more frequent; until the final Masterpiece, Me!

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I’ll Take All Your Race Cards – Go Fish!

Posted on April 10, 2012 by Nora L Pratt

Two Men Arrested Over Racial Shootings in Tulsa

By Connor Simpson | The Atlantic Wire – Sun, Apr 8, 2012

Henry A. Giroux | Hoodie Politics: Trayvon Martin and Racist Violence in Post-Racial America

~Monday, 02 April 2012 00:00 By Henry A Giroux, Truthout | News Analysis

The Republican ‘War on Women’ Is Real

By Krystal Ball, MSNBC Contributor and Former Democratic nominee for Congress in the First District of

These are just some of the headlines of recent weeks and it makes me wonder; just how far have we come on our journey of “Human Relations/Race Relations/Women’s Rights”? In view of recent events I would have to say not all that far.  Is this all just a ‘smoke screen’ created to keep us from seeing the truth of the actual progresses made?  Or has the actual smoke screen created by past administrations faded only to show us the truth of our progress?

Now we might not be as blatant as in recent years (yes… I say recent years), for we don’t see many bodies hanging from trees; but there are plenty of bodies shot in our city streets.  Women are making more money; but they still only earn about 82% of a man’s salary.  So I ask myself, have we really made progress?

Just the other week I was ignorant (or should I say arrogant) enough to say things like, “why do they insist on pulling the

Race Card

Race Card (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

‘race card’?”  “How am I, a white woman supposed to get past this?”  Or, “How are we ever to get past this if we keep playing this ‘race thing’?”  As I look at those words, I am filled with regret and shame.  I can’t believe the utter stupidity in me, Amelia and David Mac Gregor’s daughter.  Then I look at the first two headlines.  It is especially chilling for me when I hear words about the supposed ‘come shoot me clothes’ that Trayvon Martin was accused of wearing.  Or how about reports of another young gentleman who, by merely touching waist band (in the wrong place at the wrong time), got shot.  Another of our black youth, dead by mistaken identity of a jumpy police officer.  I’m embarrassed for our actions as a society and embarrassed to have said and thought such things.

Easter has always been a time for reflection for me.  For some, January 1st is the time for resolutions and renewal; and in our calendar this is the starting point for our year.  However, I’ve always looked at the Easter and Passover holiday as my time of renewal; my ‘New Year’, if you will, as it is at this time when I do most of my reflection.

Spiritually, I take this time to reflect and, for lack of a better word, renew my faith.  Raised a Christian, I’ve chosen to follow the teachings of Jesus and read the bible and His scriptures; scriptures such as:

“Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye?

You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye”
(Matthew 7.1-5 ESV)

I often wonder of the days of Jesus and can only imagine how tumultuous they were and yet I find myself perplexed by this world also.  This world where the people in it are still so intertwined with their own similarities, nuances and stark differences; so much so that they are still tortured and in so much turmoil.  We are only one race; a race of people [period].  Still so different, yet when you think of it, very much the same.  Take our bodies, where at the very basic level, function the same.  So just what is it that we think can possibly be gained by killing one another on the basis of race or religion or sexual preference?  Less fear?  Righteousness?

I had a long and heartfelt conversation with my brother the other day who was describing to me how he felt the day we first went into space and the first time he got a glimpse of the shot of the earth from the moon.  The one from Apollo 8 as the earth was rising from behind the moon, this jewel of blue, green and white and how spectacular it was!  He continued telling me that he found himself asking how was it that on this magnificent planet, we could ‘segregate’ or ‘fight’ or ‘kill’; spill blood over the very idea of race.  Just looking at it, we certainly seemed insignificant and, yet, the very men taking this picture were definitely connected.  And definitely significant.  All they wanted was to go home.

What would happen if an alien ship were to come down back in the day; which if you remember anything about that part of history, was rattled with riots throughout the South and in most major cities.  Even our little family could not escape the hatred of racism; our own town where my brother experienced beatings by black students and where we watched our white neighbors move to the “better” parts of town, was not immune.

Just what would those aliens say?  I tell you what I imagine they would say.  After we spewed off all of our differences; complaining of how horrible they were.  I imagine that first they would laugh, then they might say, “We are different, your race and ours.  But you; what purpose do you serve to maim, torture, or kill?  You are the same.  You all have the same cell structure, bleed the same blood, breath in the same oxygen.  Show emotion, smile, cry; if you took the pigment out of the picture there wouldn’t be anything to judge.”  And they would be correct.  When you think of this vast jewel of the Universe that we inhabit, it looks so peaceful, yet what is it about us that we can seem to do nothing better with our differences than to fight?

When someone disagrees with us, we fight.  When someone is different, we fight.  When someone follows a different religion, we fight.  Even between the sexes, we fight.  Instead of glorifying in the differences and what those differences can give and how they can enhance this race of humans; we fight.  We continue on the fight by pointing out the obvious with scorn, instead of glory.

Our differences enhance and glorify each and every one of us.  You can’t have joy without sadness, love without loss; I’m not even certain that you can have hate without love.  What I do think is you must work through the hate, you don’t just shoot it out, just as we need the positive in our lives, we need the negative.  It is with those negative emotions that give us the tools to enhance the power of the positive emotions; you work through them, in spite of them.  That is what gives a person character.  We all live as one unit and like the colors of a wonderful quilt, we enhance the beauty that exists next to us and around us.  For it is those differences that we should be living for.  And those are the differences that bind us, much like the similarities.

I say that I use this time as a time to renew my faith; is it the only true faith?  No, I don’t believe that to be true.  For I believe that our dear Lord gave us many paths to finding our way, and to finding our way in and around the many vast differences we see among ourselves.  Working with compassion instead of contempt, with benevolence instead of bullets, and treasure each other instead of scorn.

Matthew 5:43-44 Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you;

We are in the 21st century people; this is a time of Awakening, it will happen whether you like it or not.  There is no going back to a ‘better time’; that time is now.  I intend to learn from my mistakes and continue on learning; that is the trick to this life, is it not?  To continue learning, picking yourself up each time you fall.

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Sunday – April Fools… (no, really it’s Sunday…)

Posted on April 1, 2012 by Nora L Pratt

Two weeks have past and I’m feeling a bit back into the regular.  Got up at 6:30 this morning; checked some email and

Picture of a Daffodill, scientifically referre...

Picture of a Daffodill, scientifically referred to as a Narcissus, that was captured using the digital macro mode, in the neighborhood called Capitol Hill, Denver, Colorado USA. Narcissi are used in abundance in gardens. This has much to do with their winter hardiness, the ease with which they naturalize, and their many applications. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

went back to bed to catch a few more Zz’s.  Woke up around 9:00, refreshed; made coffee and french toast.  I did my taxes last night on one of those new fangled on-line deals [sigh]; it is the first tax return I’ve done without my ex-husband.  I thought I would feel FREE, woo hoo; jumping off the ceiling.  But, I don’t know, some how I just feel blah.

On the other hand, I thought this would be extremely emotional for me; again, blah.  It is a bit freeing, I won’t have to hear his nagging about how I should have had my employer take more taxes out because, “we didn’t get as much of a return…” (blah, blah, blah…).  Yea, like he EVER even paid!  I mean this coming from a man who, when I would suggest paying quarterly, would shake his head and tell me, “we can’ t afford it.”  To which I would reply, “if we would simply deduct a percentage out from your payments and place it in a savings account…”; ah, he never listened.

Hm, that ‘blah’ feeling that I was having earlier?  Just changed to ‘woo hoo, freedom!’  Sorry Doug, but you were kind of a pain in my a#&… more like a hemorrhoid that would just pop up when the mood suited you.  So, it is a relief.  Now onto the separation papers.  That is another big emotion and pain.  Note to self: Marriage? Cheap – Divorce?  EXPENSIVE!  And very, VERY emotional.

It’s not like a HUGE expense (well, not if you try to do this on your own and leave the lawyers out of it), but… For example, in California should you decide to separate first, you must pay the fee for separation AND divorce.  Now it is my choice to file separation and in the eyes of the law that makes us legally divorced for all intense and purposes except for the part of remarrying.  But, I really don’t think I’m ever marrying again so… I can wait until he retires in a few years.  Then again, I seriously doubt I’m ever going to be working again.  Well, not for a corporation, so I doubt he will ever have access to benefits from me.  So maybe I should just go straight for the divorce.  But, then again that just feels like the final nail in the coffin.  The end.  I really don’t know that I’m ready; but why?

Am I going to ever go back to him (only if HELL froze over…).  The emotion comes from the ‘what ifs’, the dreams that were dreamed and never realized.  There are over twenty years of life that were lived that are now going to be erased.  So many memories coupled with the fact that this was, and still is, a good man.  I just don’t know that I’m ready to say to the courts that I want to dissolve it yet.

This is “procrastination” in the truest form all because of fear; fear of the unknown.  Fear of what I feared all along, that no one would ever want me.  I mean, look at me, here I am; I’ve been single for almost three years and the only men I’ve been able to attract are either lunatics or on-night Romeo’s out for a ‘booty call’.  [sigh]  This is very similar to the situation of my youth.  Is it any wonder that when Doug came along that I didn’t just jump at the chance?  Some say I settled.  And that may be true for a variety of reasons (I know that now).  But all in all we had many wonderful years woven in the bad.  No, I can’t live with him anymore but that isn’t to say that I never loved him or that I don’t still.

Well, this is certainly an uplifting post… I don’t know how to turn this around.  So, I look at the positive of the situation.  I am now doing that which I love (singing, writing, songwriting), I have a new circle of friends (along with the same old circle) that are wonderful/talented artists in the own right.  I’ve found my voice and will continue to express it (be it through song or my words in my posts/articles).  I’m finding a new relationship with my other sister Elizabeth and accepting my brother (warts and all).  Knowing that he, only he can determine his fate and whether he will live his life sober or not.  Same can be said for my ex.  However my brother’s situation is far more deadly and something that we all hope will remedy before we are planning his memorial.  He has so many gifts, so many talents (if only he would see them… truly see them).

And I guess there in lies my lesson.  To see my gifts/talents and to share them each and every day.  Our family is big on ‘talking as if’.  As if talking is doing.  The problem with doing this or getting into the habit of this is that your life can go by you in a flash and before you know it, you are at your end, possibly in a hospital bed talking with a nurse and you let  out your last breath and that is the end.

So, it’s Sunday and there is still at least part of the day left.  My intention?  To get on my sneakers and doA pair of black Converse sneakers some walking (something I’ve avoided) and start getting into shape.  Perhaps I’ll start running again (something I used to do when I was in high school and LOVED); either way, it is time to move – something.

Happy April everyone… Go out and be a fool, and don’t forget to say those three little words you know we all love to hear “I LOVE YOU” – if you haven’t said them I suggest you start; what are you waiting for?

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Courage Wears Many Faces

Posted on March 31, 2012 by Nora L Pratt

Reblogged from Finding Ann MacGregor:

Click to visit the original post

Image via Wikipedia

As defined in the dictionary:

cour·age

noun

1. the quality of mind or spirit that enables a person to face difficulty, danger, pain, etc., without fear; bravery.

brav·er·y

noun, plural -er·ies.

1. brave  spirit or conduct; courage; valor.

2. showiness; splendor; magnificence.

I guess the most common way we would hear these words would be in reference to war or facing the danger in our city’s streets.  

Read more… 1,321 more words

With Kimball's passing, I came across this. There is still so much on the line with healthcare in this country; I've said it before and I'll say it again, if we can afford WAR, we can afford Healthcare for ALL [period].

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Grief Day 11 – Still Just As Painful (so, when does it subside?)

Posted on March 30, 2012 by Nora L Pratt

So many emotions and with each day IThe Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde po...‘m surprised at who comes out of my reflection.  Honestly, I just don’t know; is it gonna be Jekyll or Hyde (or both)?  Or maybe their twin sisters?  I’ve made a promise to keep myself far from anyone that might take offense at my outbursts for I just don’t know.  And the people, they mean well; but they say and do some of the oddest of things.  There are these friends of my sisters that, though I realize they’ve lost their dear friend, I’m a gassed and their self-contentedness.  They say things like, “what we should do with the ceremony is…”  Or, “we should really keep the testimonies down to a minimum as others might want to say something…”

Really!  My sister, Elizabeth and I actually had a chuckle as she said, “don’t they realize who they are talking to?  I mean, they are dealing with Amelia Mattison MacGregor’s daughters; that should be license enough, don’t you think?”  And we are; we are our mother’s daughters, we will not only plan an event, but we will have everything cooked, cut, plated and ready to serve in plenty of time.  As an example; for Kimball’s wedding our mother made (hand-made) Swedish meatballs.  Enough to feed a few hundred people (it was a lot of meatballs!); and they weren’t those huge, three/four bite sized meatballs you might find in an Italian restaurant either… these were tiny, bites size (Amelia MacGregor mouth size) meatballs; and all hand rolled to boot!

Yep, we are our mother’s daughters.  [sigh]  Like I said, I know that they mean well and want to help.  Everyone wants to help, I don’t want to take away from  that; and I guess that is where Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and their twin sisters come in; I just don’t know when/where they’re going to pop up.  I find that I get so upset over the most menial circumstances or words (it’s absurd!)

So, what do you do?  I can’t go on keeping myself from everyone.  I’m not my sister, I don’t have an ‘edit’ button’; not anymore.  There was a time when I was the master of diplomacy.  I remember when bosses depended on me for that trait.  What happened?  Well, a great deal happened.  My mom, my marriage; alcoholism (marriage/brother), my sister’s cancer.  It was just too much stuff and I never (NEVER) took the time to take time off or was able to take a time out.  And so, here I am; I’m forced to take this time to “deal” with the stuff that is coming up (whether I like it or not).There were a great many months spent dealing with Kimball’s health and I guess much of this started when I was called back the morning of her surgery and the surgeon wasn’t sure he could move forward for fear of the “infection”.   One look and I thought, “infection!”  Looking straight at her Infectious Disease doctor.  While in the hall I asked him, “what, pray tell would make you think, after looking at that, that that was an ‘infection’?”  To which he muttered how imperfect medicine was.  I was panicked, furious, frightened; while at the same time I knew in that moment, my sister’s fate had turned.  I also knew I couldn’t say anything, not to her friends who were waiting for me in the lobby, and not to my family.  I could eventually try to convey the seriousness of the situation to my family; but, I knew that unless they saw with their own eyes, only then would they be able to gabble at the seriousness of our sisters situation.

No, I knew long before the doctors were willing to ever state anything to Kimball, the imminence of her fate.  This grew even clearer when the fluid collected on her lungs and I was being trained to drain them.  And even then, I succumb to the wistfulness of my sister and that all was going to be fine and she was going get well.

So much for a person to shoulder; yet I did.  And for this I am proud; however, one regret remains and perhaps that is what stands in the way of my deliverance from remorse into solace.  That being in her final days I depended on the doctor giving her a clear picture of the situation.  I expected it to be like that of a movie (Terms Of Endearment), where the doctor comes in and says “dear you have a malignancy…”

But, such as life, this was not a movie and that never happened.  At least, not until the day before her death when it came from a nurse on staff.  This brave soul, this wonderful woman sat with my sister and told her the truth (something I should have done weeks before, but lacked the courage to do).  I just couldn’t bring myself to break her spirit, to let her down.  I couldn’t do that and now, wish I had.  She deserved to know the truth from me, not to guess what was happening and to live in fear of the questions circling her mind.  She deserved to know and to have those moments to write the notes she wanted to write, or to make the calls she wanted to make.  And I robbed her of that.  I’m not sure I can forgive myself of that.

So, where does this leave me?  I don’t know.  I will learn to forgive myself and I will learn from this.  But to you, my readers?  I hope this is teaching you to NOT take the easy way.  When something needs to be said, don’t wait for someone else to say it (be it a doctor, or friend, brother or sister); SAY it!  Life is short; oh so much shorter than you know.  And those moments you think will be just around the corner;  those moments could be gone in a flash.

‘I Love You’ are three little words; yet, they are the toughest three words to say.  Most will go a life time without ever saying them or hearing them.  Do me a favor, say them to those you love.  Say them today; NOW.  Don’t wait.  They are just 3 little words.  And (here’s the trick), the more you say them, the easier they come out.  Give ‘em a try; you will never be disappointed, I promise.

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She Just Won’t STOP! Me? I need a DRINK!

Posted on March 24, 2012 by Nora L Pratt

It has been five days since our sister’s passing and for the past four days, since my sister Elizabeth’s arrival; all she can do is work, work, work (even today, on the day of her departure she won’t stop!).  She is like the Energizer Bunny.  Good thing?  I’m not so sure.  On the one hand, it is a great thing in that we have had so much to gather together.

But, on the other hand, this makes me wonder; just what is it that she is trying so hard to avoid and does she really think that she can avoid feeling the pain?  Almost like the proverbial blood over the door as in the days of Moses; if by stayinig busy long enough, the grief, the pain will simply flow by and you will survive it without the torment, without torture.

I want so much to say to her, “it just doesn’t go that way, Darlin’, eventually you ARE going to have to FEEL the feelings.  No if’s ans or buts about it.”  I want to, but she won’t listen.  She will just look at me, over those readers that she wears with the animal print, under her silver bangs that are parted in the middle and with those eyes of deep brown and say, “Ann; I’m fine.”

And I know she is, or I know she will be.  But I can’t help but to worry as Elizabeth is the one I worry about most during this whole process.  She is one that, if you didn’t know her, you might think her as cold, aloof; gruff.  But there is a very tender heart deep in that body she carries as a shield and she guards it closely, even from her own family and very dear friends.  The only time I recall her crying was when Kimball’s Oncologist had “the talk” with us.  Afterwards, the nurses shewed us out of the room to tend to their patient and we went downstairs.  Elizabeth turned her head away, over my shoulder (hands still down at her side) and started to cry.  I reached around, held her, trying to console her.  She could only allow this for a brief moment… all the while not returning the embrace.

I say this not to snub at my sister or to say “what is wrong with you?”  Rather, as an observation.  This poor girl (yes girl) who is still unable to open herself up to the vulnerability it takes to allow yourself to heal, to feel, to grieve; simply won’t.  Grieving is so unique and we all do this in our own way, no two people do it the same; this is true.  But with Elizabeth, her reasons for the how’s and the why’s may  run deeper than  even I had realized.

Going back to the death of our father (1963), she was only six and, doing as she was taught, went off to her room to cry.  So, in the privacy of her room, there she was, crying and carrying on about how much she missed her Daddy.  Next thing Elizabeth knew, somebody (I’ll leave the name out, but they were obviously much older than this dear child) marched in and told her to “grow up, stop crying”; or so my sister recalls.  Now, understanding  this person’s side, he was also grieving and was probably trying to intervene for our mother who was most likely beside herself at the sound of her young daughter’s tirade.  But still, you can see how these things have a way of sticking with us?  It most certainly has stuck with my sister, she still hasn’t forgotten it (or forgiven it for that matter).

“Stop crying!”  “Grow up!”  Made its mark, didn’t it?  Trust me, I’m not laying blame.  I understand where that came from.  Just wish my sister did, for I know she is still hearing those horrible words.  You see, our memories are tricky things.  As a child, things, people seem so much larger; yet when confronted as an adult, those Monsters can be brought back into perspective.

To give you a rather awkward, yet simple example of mine; my Kindergarten class had in its room this long cascading staircase that split from the two large hall doors.  It was beautiful as it curved down and around into the class room.  I remember returning as a young adult shortly after I got married and I so wanted to go down those beautiful cascading stairs, just like Scarlett O’Hara in Gone With The Wind.  When I opened the hall doors I stopped, looked in and down and burst into laughter.  You see, what was remembered as twenty or thirty stairs was simply five (maybe seven).  Everything was so small!  But that wasn’t how my mind remembered it.

The same goes for all childhood memories, I would imagine.  And, my sister is no different.  Now to say that this is a depressed person would be an untruth.  Actually if there were in fact ‘happy’ genes, I believe she got our family’s quota.  But, this isn’t to say that I’m not worried about her.  We all grieve differently.  She and I finally got through most of our sister’s things (her clothing has been placed in bags for donation, we went through the office, etc.).  On the one hand it was very therapeutic; however, the tears did flood (on this face anyway).

We spoke a bit last night after we got the last bag done and the last of Kimball’s things cleared from her room.   It was actually a very peaceful conversation; I told her about my feelings over the past couple of weeks and how through everything that was happening with Kimball, so many feeling stirred inside me, almost as if to make it so I could see my relationships that much more clearly.  I went on to say how I didn’t understand the anger, the rage, the sadness, the guilt I was feeling at everyone but…  I mean I knew this was part of the process but always thought that was to be directed at the deceased not others for God’s sake.

We laughed at the absurdity and she reminded me that many don’t know how to handle it.  They just don’t know what to do.  Doesn’t make them bad people.  Unlike us, where we’ve been forced to accept grief at a very early age; many have never gone through it.  People don’t have the etiquette ingrained in them as it was in days of old.  This is true, we don’t.   I guess I’ve just been so gullible for so long I simply assumed.  Then it hit me… I’ve done this about everything.  I think that if I think it then we all do; ‘think it’, I mean.  If I can do it, then everyone can.  And that isn’t entirely so, is it?

Grief, it is so utterly individual.  Elizabeth will be fine, this I know.  I pray that we all – all of us (siblings, niece and nephew) can survive this tumultuous time and do so with grace.

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.   –Reinhold Niebuhr

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Death (we can never escape) – Perhaps we can learn through the process of our grief.

Posted on March 22, 2012 by Nora L Pratt

Death… in a few short weeks I’ve experienced the emotional loss of my best friends (or who I thought were and by their blatant absence in my grief, their absence only brings home my point) and I’m experiencing the physical loss of a person so dear to me it seems unreal that my body should be able to function.  It is amazing to me how the heart works; the expression ‘heart-broken’ feels just that – Heart-broken…

You feel as if your heart has been not broken but pulled apart, ripped into pieces.  Yet it beats.  It simply doesn’t seem possible.  As for my friends, I guess one can argue that I brought their anger on myself and to them I would have to agree.  On the other hand, is my friendship not worth the fight?  Am I not worth saying “hey, bitch!  I’m so f’ing mad at you for what you did!  I’m pissed off!”  Don’t I deserve at least that?  To simply stay silent can tell me only one thing, I was right, my friendship meant nothing.  And that kind of heart-break, though it stings like hell, is something I can live with, for you can’t miss something that was only imagined.

But in the face of my sister’s passing, so many others have come forward, people of whom I never would have imagined .  I’ve made new friends and new acquaintances.  And this leads me to realize that perhaps that is the part of life that I have dreaded for so long; that within this life we must endure several little deaths (if you will).  Deaths of relationships, jobs, financial situations, traditions, hobbies; but within and through those deaths we renew and find new relationships, careers.  We stretch ourselves into new hobbies and start new traditions.

I returned from the hospital the night before my sister’s passing after leaving her on both the oxygen that goes into the nose and the mask that covers the nose and mouth.  Her end was imminent, yet she fought.  She fought for a miracle because the thought of leaving this earth was so utterly terrifying to her.  Like many of us, she journeyed through this life never thinking she was ever enough.  That she’d never accomplished what So and So accomplished.  Or, never did the types of things that So and So did, or… simply, that she never made her ‘mark.’

We do this all the time and all the while forgetting that while we are comparing ourselves to others, those “others” are comparing themselves to us.  The grass is always greener, it always looks so lush and the lawn furniture seems to  look that much more relaxing; that is, until you hop the fence and sit in that lawn chair, listen to it creaking while noticing the brown patches in the lawn.

I mention this because through this process of my sister’s journey to her passing, I’ve learned to not hide my light under a bushel any longer and to enjoy my own lawn and lawn chairs.  Along with the puppy that might persist on pooping in the wrong spot (making for those pesky brown spots in my lawn)…

We all have brown spots and we all have creeks.  But we also have (all of us) gifts to give to the world.  No matter what those gifts are, no matter how small or insignificant they might seem; they are something major by way of someone else’s green-eyed monster lurking within.

My sister was very fearful of dying and one might say “aren’t we all?”  To that I say, yes… to a certain extent.  But when you’ve lived your life and are in touch with your gifts and those around you.  When you live your convictions, without regret, then perhaps it’s easier.  And, when we realize our gifts, and use those for others to enjoy (whatever those gifts might be, however grand or small), we have then made our mark.

But when we are constantly trying to keep up and comparing ourselves with “the others”, forever reminding ourselves in what it is we don’t have… then we lose sight on the true prize – peace.

Contrary to what you felt dearest Sister, you were cherished (even envied) by all who basked in your glow.  You never were given the gift of child-birth or children yet you touched thousands through your tremendous gift and passion of education.  It was those who sought your friendship who were in awe of you!  We were overwhelmed by your grace and your beauty, by your love and your spirit and by your courage and your wisdom.

Dear Sister, you can now revel in the joy of the true spirit in which you are and forever will be, LOVE and Pure ENERGY.

I will love you and keep you close to my heart until we see each other again.

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