Author: Gardy Loo Pismire

Springtime Hell

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 4 Comments

There is something about the TWO weeks of spring that we experience here in the middle of California. All the trees blossom at once and everyone walks around sniffing, eyes watering and holding their heads because they have massive allergy induced headaches. The amount of anti-histamine sold here in one month maximizes the pharmaceuticals profits and gives their CEO’s the 20 million dollar bonuses they have come to expect as their due compensation.

 

For two weeks the weather is a lovely 70-80 degrees. The shorts come out and there is a spike the number of new memberships at the gym as folks suddenly realize that swimsuit season will begin April 1. Of course, everyone’s posture soon becomes stooped as they realize that those 25 pounds they gained over the winter will never disappear in two weeks… if ever! This leads to an uptake in drinking in the local bars as residents try to forget about those extra 25 that are now hanging over their bar stools. Sigh. Yep, spring around here is a challenge.

But as big as a pain that is it; this time of year is really beautiful. Everything is lush and green.The kids swing with delight in the cool breezes as they try to touch the sun. The hummingbirds re-appear; their wings buzzing with delight. Bears come out of hibernation and this eagle built her nest on a power pole a few miles from my house. Best of all the photo ops are maximized as thousands upon thousands of acres of fruit and nut trees are in bloom while the cows roll happily in the fields not realizing that everything will turn brown 14 days from now as the temperatures start climbing into the 90’s.

images-2

IMG_5391

I love spring because my garden comes alive. My grape vine buds, my apricot tree is in bloom as are the guava and the asian pear. The lilies appear out of nowhere from the deep rich earth. Blue hydrangea buds push out and massive blooms of roses appear around the yard. Unfortunately, the pool man just rang the doorbell to remind me that I need a new motherboard for the pool system that will cost a mere $700. I nearly pass out from this most unwelcome news on my soft green grass.

Yes, I love these two weeks of spring. I appreciate it even more as I watch my relatives on the East Coast endure yet another blizzard. Shoveling vs. gardening… it’s an obvious choice.

So now I am off to get in my 10,000 steps on this glorious morning but first I down my Claritin like an alcoholic downs his first drink of the day. My eyes are watering, my head is aching and post nasal drip inflames my throat. But as I pass my neighbors all of us with a smile plastered on our face; I get a perverse sense of satisfaction that we are all experiencing the same special sort of Springtime Hell that can only be found in this lush Valley.

IMG_5469

 

Stilettos

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 1 Comment

“Mom,” says Gracie. “I have an orchestra competition and I need black shoes with heels.”

Heels? I think. She can’t be old enough for heels, can she? There is no way. Just yesterday I was rocking her to sleep, picking out her clothes and teaching her to ride a bike. Heels? I am not ready for this! Heels means makeup, makeup means proms, and proms mean BOYS. Crap…not boys! Not yet! Not EVER!

An hour later we are headed for the store doing the joint mother/daughter thing to pick out her first pair of heels. As I drive a feel a pull in my gut warning me that I should just turn around and go home.

” I like these,” she says as she holds up a pair of 5-inch stilettos that any good hooker would covet.

OH HELL NO! explodes like white lightning throughout my feeble brain. My mother’s words of “No daughter of mine…” come flooding back to me and trip over my tongue on the way out of my mouth.

I feel compelled right here and now, in the middle of the shoe department, to the have “the talk” about what is appropriate and what is not at her age. As I drone on she grimaces, “oh moms” and rolls her eyes more times than I care to count but I think my point has been well taken until she whines…

“I’m not a little girl”

“You’re not twenty-five either nor do you have a job and you don’t earn your own money to buy the things that you want.”

“Of course I don’t have a job,” she shoots back. “I am only 12! But if I did I would be buying those shoes!” her hands gently caressing the soft black velvet.

I take this as a cue to hold up a pair of ballet flats figuring if I show her THESE, knowing she likes THOSE, perhaps we can find a compromise somewhere in this warehouse of shoes.

Gracie holds up a different pair with four-inch heels that climb up her legs like a vine on a tree.

“How about these?” she says with a smile that looks more like a dare.

“How about not.”

And so it goes until she shows me the 10th pair with heels that shoot you up towards the sky.

“Honey,” I ask. “Why is it that you are drawn to shoes with such high heels?”

“Come on mom, think about it. I am the shortest one in my class and on the diving team. No one sees me. Just once I want to look up at someone instead of them looking down on me.”

Finally, I get it. Her need for height is a need for being seen. For being like everyone else, in a world where Asians are often not seen nor heard. For being “looked at” instead of being invisible.

I give her a squeeze and suggest we find something that will give her lift but not up to the clouds. We finally settle on a two-inch inch wedge that gives her a little extra notice but not in that over-the-top teenage way.

As we drive home we talk about girl things. Things I once understood but don’t quite get now. Things I have forgotten as the years have rolled by. Big feelings that once threatened to overtake me when I was her age.

“Mom,” Gracie says. “I have a confession. I didn’t really want those big heels. I just wanted to see what you would let me get away with.”

“Really? Why would you do that?”

“Geez mom, I’m almost a teen. I have to start pushing the boundaries someday you know.”

I laugh and I know that she does, but I hope she will wait just a little bit longer before the boundaries are pushed all the way to Siberia. For the truth is it isn’t the boundaries that worry me it is the fact that she is my baby and there is a small part of me, in a world that moves too fast, that wants her to remain that way forever.

Conflict

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 7 Comments

images-9

When I was younger I enjoyed conflict. It meant that I was letting things be known and getting things done. These days I just want peace. Gone are the days of spending two hours trying to convince B that I am “right.” Gone is the time spent crafting a great argument. I would much rather spend time meditating and sitting quietly than fighting.

Yet, there is something to be said about the positive effects of conflict. During conflict we are often forced to grow, to dig deep within ourselves to find the answers that are needed, and do a bit more in an effort to resolve the issues that are at the root of the problem. Oftentimes, conflict brings us some much needed insight about ourselves and our loved ones that can then be used to find solutions that best fit our mutual needs. Usually conflict forces us to do a bit more thinking, to take action, and encourages us to analyze patterns that are dug up when our nest is disturbed.

Conflict is hard, especially when we as a species, tend to want to chase rainbows and live our lives surrounded by sunny skies. Many of us avoid conflict like the plague. But conflict if managed with mutual respect and sharply attuned listening skills can unearth gems that can change our lives or our thought patterns. So while I am not encouraging anyone to go out and start a fight with their loved one; I am saying that the next time you are in conflict with your loved one try to look for the treasures that conflict can bring. You may find exactly what your relationship needs in order to take that next step by digging deep and listening carefully and in doing so; you might just find the peace that you have been searching for.

images-1

 

Slowing Down

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 1 Comment

I have been moving at a  pretty fast pace lately. Whether it be traveling from one side of the country to the other or in my interactions with those I love; warp seems to be the speed at which I move these days. So I was more than a little ticked when my therapist “suggested” that I take more time in all aspects of my life. In other words…

S L O W

I T

D O W N

images-6

When I wrote B that recent letter I shared with you… I was ready to be done that day, move into a new home the next and be in court a couple of weeks later. That is the way I do things once I decide to do them. Final Decision=Changing My Life For Good.  Let’s cut through the crap and start a new chapter. But my therapist says that type of thinking is self sabotaging and creates more pain in the end. Incidentally, B’s therapist also feels this way.images-7

One example she has given me to highlight this type of thinking is that if you are driving 100 miles per hour you are going too fast to see the little important things along side of the roadway. Things that may influence how fast you continue to drive or if you need to stop or slow down. When you are going that fast nothing is crystal clear and everything becomes a blur. Decision making, instead of being thoughtfully planned out, becomes spur of the moment and as a result it creates pain and suffering. To quote her:

“You have to remember that not all suffering is the same. The suffering you may face from leaving before the time is right may be nothing compared to the years of regret you might have because you didn’t take the time to work through the things that needed to be addressed even if that does result in divorce later on. Usually going at a fast rate of speed only leads to serious pain and regret.”

images-4

According to her, speed will destroy what it is I ultimately want to accomplish.

“If this marriage ends due to knee jerk reactions,” she says “then you will not learn to trust yourself or the decisions that you make. Doing that takes thoughtful planning and seeing each part of the decision-making process come to fruition. That’s when trust in yourself begins to build upon itself when you see things coming together because you took the time to do things right and get what you need in the final outcome.”

And so I am trying to slow down and put into place the things that I want and need for my future. Although I do not know what that future holds I want to be sure that when I get there it contains all the things I need to live this second half of my life on my terms and not to be left holding a speeding ticket because I took the laps too fast.

business-growth-with-social-media-marketing-seo-sem-blogging-branding-creatinggrowthwithifrah-getting-ahead

A Little Nudge

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 6 Comments

IMG_8288

He was a pound puppy just looking for a home. Part Boxer and part Great White Pyrenees he was tan with white socks and once he took hold of our heart, he never let go.

Of course, there were the usual puppy shenanigans … chewed up socks, garbage dragged throughout the house, plants dug up only to be re-planted and dug up again. But as he grew he settled into the role of “Good Dog” and wore it with ease. Now at six years of age he protects us like he would protect a flock of sheep by herding, nudging, and prodding us along the paths that we are destined to follow.

Lately, I have been watching Roo as he trots through life and I have realized he is onto something important. It is an example for us human folks to adopt and to follow. It’s a way of getting your immediate needs known and then met. I realized the power Roo had while watching him interact with each of us “sheep” as he herded us this way and that throughout the day. His power looks like this: Everyday, we can count on Roo to disrupt our typing, our yoga, and our conversations with a sharp nudge of his long pointy nose. A nudge that is often so powerful it will make your hands fly off the keyboard or unbalance you to the point that you go crashing to the floor while in a yoga pose. For Roo, a nudge means “See me. I am here. I want/demand your attention.” And therein lies the lesson.Instead of waiting for something or someone to give us what we want/need perhaps we should be  doing a little nudging of our own. A type of nudging that spells out our needs and desires in a way that allows the important people in our lives to give us the chance to respond in surprising and magical ways. By letting his needs be known, Roo, usually gets what he wants. Perhaps it is time that we all learn to do the same.

So today try a new way of living.  Seize the day by the horn and get out there and nudge. Nudge hard, nudge soft but let your needs be known in an obvious nudgy sort of way. From a dogs perspective it works and from a human perspective I think the rewards are well worth the risk.

IMG_0994

Pitter Patter of Little Feet

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 9 Comments

images-3

Today after a wonderful day in the Florida Keys I arrived back at the hotel and saw my sweet grand babies. My daughter, Noele, drove 10 hours with a three-year-old and an almost two-year-old in the back of her car. She endured much crying, fighting, and a MAJOR puking incident just so she could see us again. Somehow, with all the mistakes we made as parents she turned out just right despite our good intentions. How that happened I will never know.

From the time she was a tween this mother/daughter team could always find something to argue about. Things like… which side of the toast is the correct side to butter, whether being a strict vegan was taking things to the extreme, and if boys were allowed to be in her room. Much to my dismay while I knew I loved her deeply, I didn’t like her  much and our relationship didn’t match the Brady Bunch ideal swimming around in my head.  I would see mothers (Carol) and daughters (Marcia) walking the malls together and it would pull at my heart. Seeing teens and their mothers enjoying a movie together hurt like hell. And those mothers who ran the Booster Club with their kids helping along side them…I knew it was never going to happen.

imgres

B hunkered down. As a man who avoids conflict at all costs, having two of the women he loved most in the world living in a war zone with him serving as a NATO soldier trying to broker a peace deal was not an easy task. He never could understand all the slammed doors and word grenades being flung from one side of the house to the other and he visibly cringed when skirmishes erupted.

images-2

When Noele was fifteen I never envisioned that we would have any sort of relationship until she kicked my casket into the ground. In fact, my biggest hope was that she would graduate early so she could move out of the house sooner and after a year away as an international exchange student, she returned home more stubborn and determined to ignore anything thing we had to say. And who could blame her? She tasted freedom for a year and wanted even more. The parental role I once relished became a nightmare and a battle of wills ensued in which both of us suffered heavy losses. Recovery seemed remote.

But then it happened. One day she grew up and into her own woman. It took a while and a first child for that to happen. The birth of my granddaughter brought several miracles along with her. No longer at odds with each other our commonalities soon surfaced and within those we found mutual respect and a deep well filled with love that was once bone dry.

These days we live at opposite ends of the country. We SKYPE almost daily so we can share tidbits of our daily lives and so that her kids “know” their Grammy and Papa. Noele willingly comes and takes care of her own children plus her brothers and sister so B and I can travel to far-flung places. I can’t imagine someone I would rather invest in a friendship with than my daughter. She values family, is generous with her time and is a good all-around person who has made me proud.

Tomorrow I will wake up with little ones running into my arms again. Squishy hugs and wet kisses will fill my day. We will squirm together, laugh together, and make real- life memories together. And its all because of her…my daughter…a once formidable foe who is now one of my best friends.

 

Candy Porn

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 4 Comments

I’ve seen a lot in my life and I have been regarded as very liberal and progressive for most of it. But today, my conservative side began to twitch just a tad before it went into a full ride spasm. Let me take you there.

We were in Boca Raton at a large outdoor mall when we took our tween daughters into a candy shop. Now I have to admit I was oblivious to everything around me as I began to froth at the mouth like a rapid dog contemplating on just what type of sugar fix I would be indulging in. Would it be Zotz, Jelly Bellies, or maybe a variety pack of Gummy Bears? Cherry, strawberry or watermelon became the next most important question of the night. Just as quickly I began to contemplate some chocolate to go with the Port I have stashed in my luggage so if things became a little intense with the diving moms I could take a little nip now and then to say sane and not say something I would later regret.

My head was spinning as I became high just thinking about the many ways of quieting my sugar addiction. That’s  when the grandmother of one of our 12 yo daughters began to have a conversation about something with the clerk. I will say in my own defence that I was too busy shoveling just the right amount of Juicy Pear Bellies into my bag to pay much attention to what was being said.

“Hmmm…..should I get more pear or maybe a little buttered popcorn flavored bellies?” I was muttering to myself when I realized that the conversation had just gotten a little louder and more intense. All of a sudden my senses were on high alert. For goodness sakes just what was going on?

Turns out this company was selling more than your average bear kinds of candy. They were selling this candy:

img_4558

And this candy:

img_4559

And this too

img_4560

And these were the more missionary position tame ones. Suddenly, I noticed there were sexy, outlandish, x-rated candies everywhere I turned.

I have to admit at first that I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But then I began to see this lady’s point. This was a candy store for God’s sake full of M&M’s, Sweet Tarts and Nerds. This is supposed to be a sanctuary for children where they can start out on sugar before moving onto the more adult addictions of booze and porn. But here I was standing in this store with my 12-yo-daughter looking at chocolate covered pussy cats and big candy dicks and it began to piss me off.

First of all, and straight to Grandma’s point, the x-rated candy was not just to be found in a x-rated candy aisle. No, it was mixed in on every shelf in the store. No matter where you looked (except the big binds that my head had previously been buried in) naughty treats were in plain view for any 5-year-old to see.  Frankly, having to explain to a five-year-old boy why it would not be proper to ask Grandma for a chocolate vagina for Christmas made my bowels tie up in knots. Even worse, I envisioned the child authorities arriving at my door for some comment my kid had made about all the dicks in a box he had under his bed alongside a Hustler magazine made of fudge and a box of gummy bear condoms. I began to seriously sweat with the kind of fear that makes you carry around a baseball bat when you are home alone.

“You know, she’s right!” I thought. What the hell!

A candy store is a place where children of all faiths, ethnicities, and races should be able to innocently prowl the store with nothing on their minds except how they can hide their stash before their mother starts innocently “picking” through it.  They shouldn’t have to endure a peep show on every aisle. They are toddlers, Girl Scouts and choir cherbs for goodness sake. Let them be kids and drool over the sugar, the additives and the red dyes but for goodness sake they should not tempted to drool over sinfully sugary porn candy!!!

So I am calling out the It’s Sugar candy store in Boca Raton. Stop selling candy smut to our youngsters because childhood is supposed to be a safe place where innocence runs amok and camels are free from noticeable genitalia. I would also like to remind you that once you see IT you cannot un-see IT so please put your balls behind the counter where they used to keep Hustler magazines away from us kids and our fathers back in the good ole days when candy shops were candy shops and porn was rated X.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 4 Comments
I tell you that I’m leavin’,
You can’t believe it’s true!
You say….
Girl, there’s just no livin’ without you.
Don’t take your love away from me.
Don’t you leave my heart in misery.
‘Cause if you go, then I’ll be blue,
Breakin’ up is hard to do.
Remember when you held me tight,
And you kissed me all through the night.
Think of all that we been through,
And breakin’ up is hard to do.
They say that breakin’ up is hard to do,
Now I know, I know that it’s true.
Don’t say that this is the end.
Instead of breakin’ up I wish that
We were makin’ up again.
I beg of you don’t say goodbye,
Can’t we give our love just one more try?
Come on baby, let’s start anew,
Breakin’ up is hard to do.
Written by Howard Greenfield, Neil Sedaka • Copyright © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Universal Music Publishing Group

 

f15245d5ca579fe054607c296430695d

 

I arrived home Friday to a man who was so sweet I wondered where he had been for the past year-and-one-half. Since I had told him that I want him to leave, of course, there has been a change….there always is for this type of thing. I guess it is to be expected. Shaking things up puts the boulders on top until time slowly sinks them back to the bottom. Some things never change.

He missed me while I was on the coast. He believes you don’t let go of something we have had this long. Or so he says. Now when the fear of losing me is closer than he had  ever dreamt. Filling the pill boxes, carpooling, doctor appointments. Is it me he wants or my numerous occupations…nurse, taxi driver, cook, house cleaner, bill payer, laundry folder…the list is almost endless and so is my need to know.

We talk. I am insistent. He is adamant we need to keep trying and he is staying. I suggest that he take my letter to his therapist to see what she says. I tell him I bet that she will say that he should take this time for himself. I also tell him that I want him to give his therapist permission to talk to mine to see if there is any middle ground there. He agrees. We talk late into the night without hurting each other. What do you know!

c7e01b5a76e7e2958bdaa195949d0b64

The next day we go to lunch and start talking about separation. It is not a pleasant conversation with plenty of “My lawyer said this” and “My lawyer said that.” That little exchange gave us a preview of what was to come and neither of us liked it. Yet, one thing has changed. Paul is noticing that we are apart more than together and he is upset. Asking why one of us is gone so often. He wonders why we have to leave? “Can’t we just be a family again?” he asks. A small earthquake is rocking his world and he feels it shaking the earth under his feet.

Later, we decided to look at our calendars to see what kind of leaving can be done during the month of March.

Shit! I totally forgot that I leave with Gracie on Wednesday on a cross-country trip for a diving meet. Gone until the 7th.

B leaves the 10th for a business trip to Canada and Pennsylvania. He comes back the 17th.

The following week is the Highland Games that we have both committed to.

The next week is our anniversary with a trip to the East Coast to see our son. Neither of us wants to give that up. It should be interesting. Hopefully, we can communicate like the middle-age adults we are suppose to be rather then using our usual two-year-old communcation methods…me,me,me…you,you,you. Never just us.

Now we are into April.  Two more diving meets within the first two weeks and a business trip to Colorado. In between all of this, I am trying to become a volunteer for hospice which will require training.

All of this to say…who has time to break up? Doesn’t mean we won’t. Just means that there is a lot of booked time away from each other this coming month. Yet, Paul is noticing and he is upset. Asking why one of us is gone so often. A small earthquake is rocking his world and he feels it. Deeply.

I think it is just what we need. It may not be my original plan but it’s good enough for now and sometimes that is all you can ask for.

2409baeb4ffd42764b68f1da20372d8e

 

Queen of Hearts

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 3 Comments

10 Minute Poem Challenge

 

QUEEN OF HEARTS

You tell me you want to keep our love alive

I tell you I want to be free

You want me to hold your hand

Until you’ve decided to be rid of me

You think that you have the advantage here

Your game so neatly played

You have counted on that fistful of hearts

Resting so neatly in your hand

To win this lovers game

You’ve used your charms quite nicely

Much like a card-counting pro

You think you hold all the cards

But I am now a worthy foe

The surety of my love for you

You mistakenly believe

Binds me to you forever

And to the rules of this game

But now I hold something more important

Than your Queen of Hearts

images-2

Confident she’ll win the game

Thinking you have me beat

But I hold onto my dignity tightly

And play this hand so sweet

In the guise of the lowly 2’s

I use them 2 walk away

2 reject the “love” you feel for me

2 let peace fill my heart

2 feel my emotions again

2 laugh in the face of disappointment

2 love deeply even if it is not you

And instead of loving the game

That we are used to playing

I find a new understanding

That I hold the cards this time

And the heart no longer rules

But bends to the lowly 2

So I lay down my hand

And  quickly walk away

No longer do I turn and look back

I keep my eyes straight ahead

For I have finally won this hand

The game is surely dead

There are no winners here

No winner take all

But finally I have found myself

And once again stand tall

images-3

 

 

Please Leave

/ Gardy Loo Pismire / 5 Comments

imgres

This week while I  spent a week away at the ocean I wrote a “Dear John” letter to my husband. It was five typed pages, single typed. That’s what you should expect when you marry a writer I suppose.

This was not a letter I wanted to write. Six kids, several grandkids, 30+ years, lots of great times and discovery as we traveled the world together. Until recently, my heart still skipped a beat when I saw him. He is still sexy and the most handsome man in the world to me.  Other women think so too. So this is scary. It is sad. It is heart wrenching. No, this is something I never in a million years envisioned. I mean we got married in an old castle so our love would be timeless like the stones that held those old walls together. The castle remains standing while our relationship crumbles, the dust rising up thickly through the rubble threatening to choke us both.

images-1

In the letter I told B that I would like him to move out preliminarily for a month so we didn’t have to say anything to the kids and disrupt their lives until we were positive of the direction that our relationship was going to take.. We could tell the kids that he is in China. I asked that he try to figure out who he is and what he wants the rest of his life to look like. I asked him to increase his sessions with his therapist. I told him to date, get laid or something. It’s time to move on for both of us. If you don’t know by now if you want to be with me then they way we are living is not giving you the clarity that you need. We need to shake things up a bit. But also just because you might decide you want back into my life there is a very good chance I will not be there and that that door will be closed and locked to you forever. For I am tired of you holding the master key to all the rooms in my soul

I was waiting until I got home to give the letter to him when we had time to spend together. However, on Wednesday night he told me his therapist suggested that we go back into marriage therapy. That triggered me and I told him I was no longer interested in attending therapy with him. I told him I wasn’t sure I wanted to be with him anymore, my love for him was quickly diminishing and that it was time we separate. He was shocked. He told me he loved me. I rolled my eyes over the telephone. I began to cry. He wants to keep trying. I don’t want to continue to suffer. Eighteen months is a long time to keep someone on a string. Eighteen months of wondering if today was going to be the day B walked in the door and said he was done was, in my opinion, 17 months too long.

images-2

“It is awfully hard to admit that our relationship has expired but we both have felt it draining us and I see that we are getting resentful, frustrated and are losing hope if we have not lost it already. Sometime it feels like I’m “the other woman” waiting for her lover to choose between her and his wife. Loving him fully but he cannot commit to her fully because he wants both worlds. You want the world of having me for the business side of things (taking care of the kids, house, doing the things that make your life easier) but you don’t want to give your heart to me. You want to keep me on a string until you decide what you want and whether or not you judge me capable of giving it to you. Frankly, I am tired of that game, having to prove myself over and over again to some weird sets of arbitrary conditions that you change at your whim. It is time for me to get off this merry-go-round.”

I still love the man but just because you love someone doesn’t mean you should be together. Most woman would love to be with the man I was with for the first 25 years of this 30+ year relationship. It is hard. This is not what I expected as a come close to turning the corner on 60. I want happiness for him. I seek peace for myself…happiness will come later and that is okay with me.

“I know that putting myself through the discomfort of losing you and the changes that go along with it will not be easy. Separating will be hard and there will be times when we both will feel insecure, needy and totally off balance. I am sure the first time I see you with a new love my heart will shatter in a million little pieces. But I am also trying to remember that change is empowering because it will allow new things to enter our hearts and our minds. Things that we are obviously lacking as a couple may become available as we become single or enter into new relationships. Endings just set the stage for something new and allows exactly what we are needing or seeking to make its entrance into our lives.”

images

So there it is. New beginnings. Painful endings. But I am okay and I will be okay. I am strong. I am invincible.  I am ready to move on from what I have today. I am not sure what the future looks like and I am okay with that. I am just trying to wish the best for all me included. I do worry for my children. Kids with autism do not do well with change and he has been an awesome dad. But…what is…is. And so everyday I have started my day with a meditation to bless myself and everyone in my life. Even B.

“I wish you happiness and that you are free of pain and suffering.”

It makes it easier to face the day and it makes me feel better.

I think it is time for me to get that dignity & grace tattoo