I don't know how to write this post to the world (as if) without sounding like I am wallowing in self-pity. I told you folks that I was going to try and concentrate on the positives; the creative parts of myself for awhile. I said this after I requested Victoria to leave our home 3 weeks ago. I was not certain what the title of this entry should be. How do I feel? Well, I feel like I have been cheated somewhat. I missed the opportunity to have a child of my own biologically. I go through the "mom thing" in cycles, and have for years. I enjoy reading the "mommy bloggers". I have a couple favorites. They are fantastic. I wanted to be one of those...

After I stopped dreaming of becoming a famous actress/comedian/singer some years ago, I realized what I had dreamed of all my life was something quite simple; at least, it is what many people want. I wanted a family of my own, in a home all my own, with a career of sorts; the "american" dream. Where did that foolish statement come from anyway? Most everyone wants all those things, whether they happen to be american or not. I am certain some of the folks in Iraq want peace, home, career, and family. People all over the planet want for these things. It isn't simply the american dream, even though there are people of this country (this "free" world) who still look for such a dream, the same as folks in other parts of the world. Oh yes, the expression came to be because at one time, people believed they could come to this country to find all those things. At one time, this was more a fact than a hope, for various reasons. Ahem...excuse me, I got off task.

I feel completely blessed to have experienced the "mom thing" with Victoria;  although she came to me very late, and she grew up all too soon. Truth is, she is pissed at me right now, and she is very stubborn. I know where she is, but I cannot see her. She will not speak with me. She is full of pride and arrogance; all a cover for her real pain. I miss her. I wish I could throw my arms around her and make everything all better, but, that would be too damn simple. God knows, we musn't have simple in this life! The other truth is that Victoria is more pissed at herself than at me. She just needs someone to blame, and guess who gets to be the bad gal? With all those feelings going on in her, there is sense of relief here at home, that she isn't here at present.

I didn't give birth to a baby. I changed lots and lots of diapers, fed lots of bottled milk and jar food, even helped a couple babes through teething and colic; but, I never got to take them home. I didn't have the opportunity early on, to mother a child, or mold a child's thinking consistently, other than moments I spent with other people's children. Moments in time, I could not claim as my handiwork for shaping a family of my own.

I am glad for what I have been able to give to the lives of other people and their children. I began a babysitting career back in the coalfields of West Virginia where I was raised, (you've seen the pictures of the small town on flickr) at the ripe old age of 15. Took care of all the neighborhood babies and toddlers, because folks in town trusted me to do so. I loved children and I was a true "motherly type" teenager. I continued to work with kids through the years in one capacity or another. However, until the foster care thing, I never took kids home to live with me as my family. I am so grateful for the opportunity I had to be a foster parent. These children touched my life forever. I remember well the very first foster daughter Sam and I took into our home. I still think of her and hope she is doing well. We would have kept her on but her parents were more involved than was comfortable or healthy for any of us. We never kept any foster child nearly as long as Victoria. So therefore, we didn't have the bond with all the others as we did her. I felt a real connection with Victoria from the beginning though; almost as if I'd known her forever. It is strange and can't be explained.

Victoria, just as the others, has touched my life forever. I will never be the same as before I knew her. She has told me that I am the closest thing to a mother she will ever have. We bonded. I can't undo that. It hurts that we are not communicating at present because I know all too well that life is so short.

I realize I learned something about motherhood when I was 15, caring for the babies and children in the coalfields. Those days of my youth made me think of the family of my own I believed I would have someday. Though mothering came very natural to me then, and now, I often feel I have somehow missed the "whole" experience for my life. However, those early days of caring for children are not at all lost from my memory. Those days feel even more important to me now than they did 3 weeks ago. This is because I know that everything happens in seasons. I draw on the strength from the days of my youth, and though Victoria has been a huge part of our lives for almost a decade, she is not my whole life.

I know that eventually things will be okay no matter what is to come. I also know that though I didn't have Victoria from a newborn, I couldn't love her more. I took care of her longer than all my other foster children. She became "family" to Sam and myself. I even miss all the other kids who came, stayed a while, and left; so, one might imagine how tough it is to have cared for a child 8 years straight, then be left with worry that child could very well walk out of our lives and not look back because of another family that doesn't include us. Foster children do not come into your home alone; they bring their whole family along, which most definitely includes their biological parents, first and foremost. Being all that I could be for Victoria as a mom for 8 years, doesn't make it so. She is still very troubled by the whole experience of entering foster care at age 14, and then living within a family (ours) of people who actually love her more than her own family. No matter how good I was, or what I did, I couldn't "fix" things. Victoria will still be coming to terms with it all years from now, I am certain. Most of us take a while to come to terms with happenings in our lives regarding our families. For some people the task is more difficult. I know very few folks who had a perfect childhood upbringing, without any skeletons in their closets whatsoever.

I think perhaps some of the feelings, and possibly fears I have about the whole motherhood thing, are because I am middle-aged, without the chance to make a baby now the way I thought of it years ago. I never had the chance to know the joy of nursing a child, etc. I will be approaching the winter season of my life much sooner than I can imagine, and I don't know if I will grow old as a woman who is thought of as "mom" or, if I will simply grow old as a woman who helped mother children, but was never a mother. I don't know if I will ever experience the joy of feeling like a grandmother. I do know one thing for certain, however. Giving birth to a child does not a mother make. I learned this cold hard fact through first-hand knowledge of some of the biological mothers of my foster children; especially Victoria's mother. I also learned it through other venues all during my lifetime.

So, I've no need for pity. I have done my best to be good to God's children who have come into my life, if only for a season. I've done really well with all this for the past 3 weeks. I asked Vic to leave for several reasons, but mainly, she needs to decide what is right for her, outside of us. God has been great to us. Family is about the people I love and the people who love me. I will be fine. Sam and I will be fine. I pray with all my heart Ms.Victoria will be fine too someday. Life is all about growing up, learning love, going with the flow, and accepting change. So I didn't have a baby all my very own. I had the opportunity to care for babies. No matter what, I have a young adult, heart-adopted daughter out there trying to find her way. She will. I pray when she does, we will not be forgotten.

It's 11:55pm. It's Friday. I think I've found mine Buzz! I really think my weekend came back to me. I missed you my dear weekend. Please visit longer this time. I have clean linens on the bed for us, we can sleep late tomorrow, sweet, sweet weekend. Maybe we'll stay in bed 'til noon, huh? Either way, I praise all the angels you are finally here with me. Let us rest together; we'll not watch the news for a day, we'll catch up on our reading and our blogging, perhaps. Sam is here with us too. We will be together, the three of us, and the doggies and cat, of course. Yes, the six of us all together to enjoy the last of September 2006. Glorious September, crisp and cool; and wonderous weekend. I love you.

She's a big girl now; God be with her...

On Children

How in hell do you replace one sound in your head with another when it is distant from all the things going on in the forefront of your brain? Better yet, tell me how to rid myself of this awful affliction. To quote the words of an awsome cool dude: "somebody help me!"

How I can have thoughts and beautful songs running through my brain, and still, off in the distant recesses of my mind, I continue to hear the sound of my alarm clock going off? You know, like the old ringing ya' get in your ears from time to time? Mine is the f****** sound of our alarm clock! I just had to hear it for real again a few minutes ago because I had a nap and now I must ready myself for the job at the "Shady Un-Rest" hotel this evening. Now what? Having really heard the damn thing, I may never rid myself of this trauma. Yes, our alarm has been going off for years, for Sam to get up and for me to get up; the thing is, about a week ago, the alarm was going off for several minutes because I was already up. In fact, I think I may have been here with my trusty computer when it happened. I didn't notice it at first; and then, I could not pull myself away from what I was involved in at the moment, to go all the way to the other end of our house and shut the damned thing off. Thus, the alarm clock kept doing that awful thing that it does. Quite offensively, I might add.

I know, I know. I am responsible for all this sound I am juggling in my head. Okay, so I am responsible. This is a cry for help people. Is anybody out there who has suffered this same trauma, or will you be afraid to admit you hear things in your head? It's trauma folks, real trauma...help me please!!

I am well on my way to having our larger bathroom finished; my painting is almost finished that is. I still have other little things I hope to do for the true finishing touches. Been busy with that today. Washed some clothes, made a quick dinner. Gotta' go back to the "Shady Un-Rest" Hotel tomorrow afternoon and then again on Friday. Looking forward to the weekend already.

I haven't gotten the pumkin spice latte' from Starbucks, however, I did buy a pumkin pie today, whipped cream and all. Sam doesn't really care for pumpkin pie. Damn. Guess I'll have to tackle the thing myself this weekend. Life can be so tough, ya' know? Think I'll get started on the pie now...

Doctor My Eyes

Jackson Browne

Doctor, my eyes have seen the years
Through the slow parade of tears without crying
Now I want to understand
I have done all that I could
To see the evil and the good without hiding
You must help me if you can

Doctor my eyes
Tell me what is wrong
Was I unwise to leave them open for so long?

As I've wandered through this world
As each moment has unfurled
I've been waiting to awaken from this dream
People go just where they will
I never notice them until I've got this feeling
That it's later than it seems

I watched MSNBC last evening while at work. Keith Olbermann said it best. The president owes us an apology. In a news conference, he clearly stated that it was unacceptable for people to think that there is any comparison of what he is allowing; or the government is doing the Ameican people to the terrorist people of Iraq, who have raped and killed their innocents in the streets. Keith Olbermann emphasized President Bush saying, "unacceptable for people to think". If a president of the "free" world can stand in front of everyone and tell us all that it is "unacceptable for us to think", then, what on this earth is next? How dare he insist that I don't think?

I mention this not to offend those of you whom I love dearly, who have supported the president in this war. I simply can't accept the ideal that 2 wrongs make a right. I was taught by my 4th grade teacher, 100 or so years ago, that "two wrongs NEVER make a right."

How effective is a strategy that causes a person to think they might die at the hands of the person wanting information? Can't we be allowed to think about this? Shouldn't we be thinking about this? Is anybody thinking ahead; about the repercussions of such acts? 

If indeed, anyone believes that the Iraqi people are not human, then, why on earth didn't we go to Iraq 5 years ago and level the whole place and be done with it? Your answer would be, "because there are innocent people, women and children there." Correct? There are so many--how do we pick and choose? When we go to war, we NEED to know our ultimate plan; lest we become like the people we are fighting against. For those of you who believe the scriptures of the Bible are holy, and inspired, you know that fear should never dictate a decison. Extremists often speak and act out of fear. That statement opens up a whole new can of worms though; so, I'll hush now.

Today, my cousin Tammy would be 37 years old, if she had lived. A mack truck snuffed her life instantly when she was a mere 22 years old. She had a baby daughter who was 2 1/2 at the time. Her daughter (my baby cousin) Whitley, is 16 now; and living with her father and step-mother in Michigan where her father was raised by his parents.

Tammy was absolutely beautiful! Full of laughter and love, she was pure in spirit. If I were to describe her personality in color, yellow would suit her fine. Tammy was a great mom for the first 2 years of Whitley's life. She was one of my favorite cousins. She was a sister to me. I love each and every one of my cousins, however, I grew up with Tammy and her brother. We were very close. I simply want to honor that today. I want to honor Tammy today.

She grew from a chubby little baby, into a sweet-faced little toddler; and, all too quickly into a woman with a child of her own. Perhaps I can post pictures at some point, if I can locate the negatives to put them on a disc. Nevertheless, she was a beautiful gal; not simply on the outside, but within also, where beauty counts. Her mother said to me the other day, "she had found her peace." She had gotten through the "right of passage" days of her late teens; and, had finally decided she was happy, after suffering the divorce of her parents who were married 25 years. She was happy to be a wife and mother. She was happy to be a sister, cousin, and friend.

What was to come could not have been foreseen; could not have been imagined. Could not have been worse for those of us she left behind.

Dear Tammy, I think of you often, and with much affection. I imagine you dancing among the stars, as dancing was one of the many joyous things you loved about life. I know I will see you again someday. It is my hope; it is the thing that keeps me sane; knowing I will see you and all the others again some sweet day. I love you so. Watching Whitley grow into a beautiful young lady is inspiring. She reveals pieces of you with every laughter. Thank you for giving us Whitley. I know you watch her from the heavens...

You are with us always. We will be with you again. Remembering you today sweetheart...