Memorial Day....Do You Celebrate or Honor?

I don't know how it is in your part of the world, but here in mine, it is rainy and cool. It is rather dark and dreary and maybe that is fitting for such a day as today. 

Today is Memorial Day and for some, it is the kick-off to the summer with boats on the lakes and toes in the sand. Others may view it as the day when friends and family come around for BBQs and good food to celebrate the last day of a three-day weekend. But then, there are others who actually understand what this day is about and view it for what it is. It is a day of remembrance and even mourning for those who gave all so we can have what we have today. FREEDOM!

Memorial Day is the day set aside to honor those who have served their country and died doing so. They did it willingly and bravely because they understood that freedom wasn't free, but that our country and our freedoms were worth fighting for. Sadly, so many have forgotten the significance of this day and the people we are honoring. It truly makes my heart hurt for all those missing someone who gave their life for all of us and yet so many take it for granted. 

 I saw a post on Facebook this morning from a friend of mine who is military. He stated that none of our major news affiliates were talking about Memorial Day or honoring our soldiers. As I read the post, I secretly hoped that they actually were, but he had just missed it, but a part of me knows that likely as not, Memorial Day is being downplayed because honoring our fallen soldiers sends a message that these were great people fighting for a great country and too many today don't want to see this country for what it is, rather they want to see it for what they are trying to make it. This is not right nor is it good, especially on today of all days. 

These last few years, we have lost pride in our country, because we have lost pride in our people. We have been told that only certain groups can feel pride and others must feel shame, and yet those who are supposed to feel pride, act in very self-deprecating ways. They treat themselves badly and unkindly, while the rest of the world seems to feel that even though they have done nothing, they should feel shame and their country should feel shame. We are quickly imploding on ourselves and forgetting who we are and what we stand for. 

This country is the greatest country in the world. We have freedoms and opportunities regardless of race, creed, or color that few other countries have. Unfortunately, many have forgotten and some have never learned, that freedom means having goals and dreams, working hard to achieve them, and finding success from your own tenacity and drive. Freedom is not expecting things to be given to you, refusing to work hard, and being angry when you don't have what others have because you refused to do what it takes to make it happen. We are quickly turning into a country and a people who are weak and indebted to their government. 

People seem to forget that in this country, we can be anything we want if we are willing to work for it. The proof of this is that people of every color, ethnicity and income level have been able to succeed even when the roads were rocky, but they worked hard and they changed things and paved roads for each other so that others could do the same. In few other countries is this possible. We are blessed and we don't even recognize it.  

Somewhere along the line, we decided that we would rather be taken care of than work for ourselves and make the world a better place. We traded "security" for the right to speak as we choose, pray as we choose, and live as we choose. We have taken all the amazing things about this country and have tried to turn them into points of shame and divisiveness and because of this, we now view our country, the flag, our police, and our soldiers as people and things to degrade, instead of people and things we should be grateful for and honor. 

Now saying that we are the greatest country doesn't mean that we don't have issues and that change isn't necessary in certain areas. Nothing is ever perfect and there is always room for improvement, but by the standards of many countries, we are the gold standard. If we weren't would refugees want to be here so badly? Would those from other countries who have lived through communism and oppression be telling us, that we don't know or understand what direction we are taking our country into? Of course not. 

Those that have fought and died for this country in the last 245 years, saw the big picture. They understood that unless we fight for our country, we will lose it and everything that makes it great. They understood that without freedom, we are all slaves to the evils of the world that won't care one bit what color we are, what religion we choose, or what our dreams and goals are. It is for this that these men and women have fought and died, and most importantly so that our children have a future of possibilities and hope. 

So today, if it is dreary where you are, or even if it isn't, maybe take some time and think about what this day is really about. Do some research and maybe read a book. Think about the families who are not celebrating, but grieving because they have lost a child, a parent, a friend, or the love of their life fighting and protecting, not so that you can eat BBQ and jet ski, but so that you have the right and opportunity to eat BBQ, jet ski, speak your mind, follow your dreams and live your life in peace....because that my friend is what Memorial Day is all about. 

Today we honor the men and women of all branches of the military who have fought and died for our freedom in all our wars for the last 245 years. May they Rest In Peace and may we as a country be thoughtful, respectful, and most of all grateful for their ultimate sacrifice. 

Until next time.....may you always remember those who have fought for us, may you never forget those who have died for us, and may you always be grateful for this country, our freedoms and, the men and women who still fight for us today. 

Father Altman and Cancel Culture.....It's Good We Know Who Wins in the End

It seems that for quite some time, I have been led to write today's blog. The words come together when I sleep, when I pray and when I carry through my daily life. The fact is, for several weeks now, this blog has never been far from my thoughts, and I knew when the time was right, I would sit down here and write it. I actually wanted to write this on Sunday, but it still didn't feel like it was the right time. Yesterday however, I realized that now...is the time! 

Normally I don't write a lot of blogs like this, but today, I felt I needed to write it. Remember, sometimes I just put these blogs in God's hands and let the chips fall where they may. That is what is happening here. I couldn't not write this blog if I wanted to. Now just to be clear, you don't have to agree or disagree with me on any of this and of course, you can stop reading at any time, but maybe you won't. 

This blog is mostly aimed at the Catholics among you who read my blog, but it is also a cautionary tale for those of all religions, who have clergy that are not afraid to do their jobs, put God first, and speak the truth....even if that truth isn't popular. It is also about some things that have bothered me for quite some time. 

First of all, let's talk about churches. My church, your church, their church. Even before Christianity, there were synagogues where people gathered to learn about and worship God, and in times of trouble and worry, they were a refuge for the faithful to gather together. After all, regardless of our religious preference, if we go to church believing we are in God's house, then what safer place can there be? Churches have always been sanctuaries for those in need, those afraid, and even those in danger. Churches often hold the heart of the community as well as the souls of the faithful and it seems that when all else may fail, our faith leads us to God and His church. 

So let's take this back, to 1962, when the Second Vatican Council met. In my opinion, the SVC did not move the Catholic church forward with its modernization, but instead, put us on a path that has led us to where we are today. In case you are wondering, we aren't in a great place right now. In fact, in my humble opinion, there are just way too many Catholics in name only, and sadly this is not just everyday Catholics who fill the pews every Sunday. This also includes priests, bishops, cardinals, as well as governors, senators, presidents, and truthfully at times, I wonder if it doesn't even go higher than that. These CINO are hiding behind the Catholic church yet twisting and turning canon law and church teachings to fit their own personal agendas regardless of the outcome. It has been bad for a while, but now, we have come into a critical state. 

My mother, a Catholic woman to her core, always used to tell me that satan hated the Catholic church and he would love nothing more than to destroy it. How would he destroy it? Why, from within of course, and sadly, we have been seeing this happen over the last few decades. 

Now I could literally write for days on the atrocities that have occurred in the Catholic church and how I feel about them, but instead, today, I am writing about a few things of late that have nagged at me and as of yesterday, pushed me forward into writing this. 

So where was I? Oh yeah, Vatican II. It was in VII that it was felt that Catholics no longer needed to kneel to receive Communion nor receive it on the tongue. Now for those that may not be Catholic or who are Catholic but never opened a Baltimore Catechism, Communion in the Catholic church is NOT symbolic. It is not a cracker or a piece of bread and a dixie cup of grape juice. Jesus Christ Himself started the Catholic church (the first Christian church) and He made the Apostle Peter the first Pope of the Catholic Church. Thus it only makes sense that the Last Supper was the actual first Communion, handed out by Jesus Himself, to the Apostles. So when we as Catholics go to Mass and receive Communion, the bread is unleavened bread, the wine is real and both are consecrated by the priest during Mass. What this means to those scratching their heads right now is, that Catholics believe that when we receive Communion, we are actually receiving the body and blood of Christ. Don't believe me? Look it up and look up the miracles associated with consecrated Communion wafers. 

So think about this, if we are actually receiving the body and blood of Christ, don't you think a little reverence such as kneeling and receiving it on the tongue are in order? Yes, I am sharing another momism, because she taught me in great part my faith, by living it and being an example. She always told me never to receive communion in the hand, as my hands were not supposed to touch it, only a priest was to touch it. Personally, my hands are not pure enough, holy enough, or special enough to hold the body and blood of  Christ, and I am always in awe of those who think that their hands are. So, if I believe what the church has taught me, and I do, then if I took Communion in the hand, that would be exactly what I was holding, the body and blood of Christ, and I am simply not doing it. In fact, in my whole entire life, I have never received Communion in the hand and I am not even a big fan of Eucharistic Ministers giving me Communion, but often in church, we have no choice. My preference is always the priest and again.....NEVER MY HANDS!

As for the kneeling, it really just depends on the church, because most modern churches no longer have communion rails to kneel on. As a kid though, I do remember kneeling before receiving Communion, and in my opinion, it makes the privilege so much more solemn and respectful. In fact, I made my own First Communion kneeling, and that honor has never left me. 

So this all brings me to this last year. I was literally amazed beyond words when Catholic churches and really any Christian churches locked down and no longer held Mass or services. I remember one Sunday sitting at home, watching Mass online, and thinking to myself that God must feel so abandoned that His people had so little faith in Him and His house, as to shut down and lock down. It really did not sit right with me, and even though bishops and cardinals gave all Catholics a dispensation for not going to Mass, it still felt wrong, and we all know that no bishop or cardinal has ever made an error in judgment. 

I couldn't help but think that if we had true faith, that church would likely be the last place the virus would get us, and if masks were so crucial to saving us all, then all we had to do was wear one and be on our way to church. Apparently though, the government and those governing the church didn't agree. Was this because there wasn't a thimble full of faith between them all, or was there another reason that people were locked out of their churches? It has been a big question on my mind. 

Then, when churches opened up again, the Catholic church in my opinion made another grave error and refused to allow Communion on the tongue. This I found to be reprehensible, and rather than be refused Communion on the tongue, I simply didn't go to Communion. For my heart and soul, this was the right thing for me whether others agree or not. 

Of course, the thinking behind this for the church was to "protect" the priest and the Eucharistic ministers but it really made no sense to me. First of all, there should be no Eucharistic Ministers, especially during this time. Second, the priest and his mask and a gallon of hand sanitizer should pretty much make him safe and if you add in a little faith, then there should not have been an issue at all. I couldn't help but think, what if Father Damien had refused those in Molokai, Mass or Communion on the tongue? Thank God his faith was greater than that of many of our more modern priests. 

Apparently, today's priest and clergy of all denominations seem to have forgotten that in times of great stress, fear and unrest are the times that people search out God. It is at times like this when many souls are brought to God. These people aren't looking for an hour on TV with a live band, they are looking for face-to-face contact with someone who has the best interest of their soul at heart and who has no fear, but only the desire to bring them to Our Lord. This however can't happen if God's doors are closed and His clergy don't appear to have enough faith to throw the doors open and know that God's will, will be done. 

I have pretty much kept my feelings about all of this to myself all of this time. I have prayed a great deal about it, and just watched and listened. I have seen so many people that I never imagine would fall in line do so, as their fear seemed to override their faith. At times I even wondered if I was the only one feeling this way.....until yesterday. 

Yesterday, I saw a video of a priest, Father James Altman, out of La Crosse, WI, being asked to resign by his bishop. He was accused of inciting and being divisive. Why? Because he ignored COVID limits and did his job. The job he was ordained to do. The job he was called to do not by his bishop or the governor of WI, but by God. He listened to his faith and not the government. He did what he felt was right as a priest and we have no idea how many souls he might have brought to God in doing so, and apparently, that does not matter. His bishop is far more concerned about man's mandates (not laws) than he is about God's laws. Seems like someone may be in the wrong business and I'm thinking it is not Father Altman. 

Then last Sunday, May 23, 2021, Father Altman gave an amazing sermon which was recorded, and sadly, if the bishop and the church have their way, it might have been his last one as a priest. He spoke about Pentecost Sunday and tied it in beautifully to the fight he was fighting and what is currently going on in his church and churches throughout our country. Here is the sermon he gave. I encourage you all to listen to it. If it doesn't make you feel sad, a bit ashamed, and tremendously angry that this is happening to a priest, a man of God, who chose God above all else and is being punished for it, then in my book, you may need to re-evaluate your faith a bit. And yes, he called out a lot of things that I myself have felt. It was really great to hear a priest speak to right and wrong according to the teachings of the Catholic church. We certainly need more of it and more priests and clergy like him. 

So for those of you reading who have held on this long and aren't even Catholic, first of all.....thank you. Second of all, this isn't just priests that this can and is happening to. This can happen to good clergy of all Christian faiths. Those who disagree with Father Altman or who aren't brave enough to stand up for what is right themselves, are trying to do what they do best and cancel Father Altman. Sadly, I know that there are ministers, pastors, and clergy all over who are also dealing with being called on the carpet as they also have broken no laws but did in fact side step mandates that were both unConstitutional and also trying to supersede God's laws. I don't see this as just a slap upside the head of this particular priest, but a pummeling of all faithful religious people who put God first and everything else second.

I have no doubt that those in power are not going to let this issue with Father Altman go easily as they would love to make an example of him and show us the consequences of his perceived deviciveness, as an open threat to any other clergy thinking of stepping "out of line." I also have no doubt that Father Altman will likely not go quietly and whatever suffering he goes through because of this, is paving his path to heaven. 

Standing up for what you believe in is getting harder these days. Calling out the wrong in the world, and living your life for good in spite of the evil that resides around every corner is not easy and I have every belief that evil will not let up any time soon. As for me, I will continue to take Communion only on the tongue, I will support good priests and their message, even if it's not a popular one and I will call out those who are evil and cut them no slack, even if they call themselves Catholic. Those who propagate evil and even evil itself can damage my church but they have no power to destroy it. Bottom line, if you have ever opened a Bible, regardless of whether it was a Catholic or Protestant Bible, they all end the same way.....God wins and evil loses. 

So until next time, may you stay strong, may you stay faithful, and may you remember just who wins in the end.  

That's Right....I'm Getting Soapboxy Today

So I am pulling out the soapbox today. You might want to get a cup of coffee and get comfy or just scroll on by, depending on how you feel about me when I am soapboxy. 

<soapbox on>

Let me start by being direct and to the point. If you are someone who has a bad attitude, can't hold your tongue, and feels that it is your right to literally abuse others with your opinion, then may I suggest, you stay home and stay off social media?! There! I said it!

I am not sure when we as a society decided that it was perfectly okay to be rude to a sales clerk because she isn't checking people out as fast as you would like, or that throwing a tantrum because your fast-food place is out of chicken nuggets was your best move, but I am here to tell you.....Knock that shit off! Also, don't go after me about your right to free speech because ten to one, as you are telling the server that she is a waste of space for not having your menu item (like she controls that stuff), if she fires back at you with her own "free speech," you are going to cry foul, because she had the audacity to tell you that you were wrong and put you in your place. See the hypocrisy here? You can't stand behind free speech for yourself if you can't handle the same from others. 

I have been seeing so much of this lately and quite frankly, I am really sick of it as I am sure others are too. So how do we stop it? We quit making excuses for and accepting the unacceptable. There is no excuse for people to treat each other with disrespect and there is a huge difference between standing up for yourself, and simply being an ass because life isn't going your way. 

If you are on social media, and you watch videos posted by others, you will literally see dozens of videos, where "Karen's" and "Kens" attack other people for the dumbest things. Yesterday, I watched one where a lawyer from a prestigious law firm, was in some kind of a mini-mart and she saw a woman that with her olive skin, dark eyes, and hair could have been any race or culture, but this Karen decided that she was of Mexican descent and therefore shouldn't be served in this mini-mart. Why? Who the heck knows. Probably because she was just an unhappy, truly racist human being. 

This Karen went so far as to act as a manager and tell the cashier not to check this woman out because.....yes, she was Mexican and shouldn't be in this country. The woman corrected her and told her that she was in fact Indigenous and that if anyone shouldn't be here, it was Karen. This erupted into a fight where Karen shoved the woman and the woman flat out smacked her across the face. Karen was too smart to continue the fight but smugly walked off, obviously planning her lawsuit. Sorry, Karen, your ridiculousness was caught on tape. 

I also saw, a Karen threatening to call a homeowners association about two women out walking their pig. When the pig relieved himself and the women picked it up, Karen was beyond irate that he had done it in the first place. She was even angrier when the women told her that they had already discussed the pig with the HOA as he was a support pig and they took good care of him and he caused no problem. Karens' rage was intensified to the point that she then threatened to call the police. The women knowing that they were filming the whole scene and that they nor their pig had done anything wrong, told her to go ahead and call the police. This fueled Karen to the point of getting in their faces and taking pictures. WTH? What is wrong with people? 

And finally, a group of kids (about 9) decided to do something nice in their neighborhood and help their fellow neighbors who might not be able to take care of their yards or get out and mow. Kids know little about property lines so in one yard, they got a swath of another neighbors yard and that neighbor called the police on these kids. They were out doing something kind for their community, mowing, edging, and sweeping the walks and some Karens decided to call the police on them. What message does that send to the kids, the police, and other neighbors? We all know what message that sends and this is part of why we have the problems in this world that we have. Luckily, the police saw the bigger picture, and nothing was done to the kids. 

There is just video after video of this kind of crazy behavior where people show the absolute worst versions of themselves as if their actions were both acceptable and right. While yes, the First Amendment gives us all the right to free speech, I am also sure that our founding fathers expected that we use some common sense with this right, and just because we could say something didn't always mean we should. Apparently, though, the founding father's crystal ball wasn't working at the time and they didn't realize that 245 years later, we would have lost our minds, become entitled creatures showing little humanity, and decide that a right designed for all, should only cover the few...Kens and Karens, being the few. 

When I speak of entitlement, I am not talking about a specific color, race, sex, or culture, though some cultures seem to show more restraint and sense than others. Kudos to you. In every demographic though, there seem to be those who think the rules of humanity as well as the laws of the country and their own little piece of it, don't apply to them. They seem to think that they have the right to browbeat a 16-year-old on their first day of work because the milkshake machine went down, or scream at the Walmart greeter who is told to make sure everyone who enters has a mask. That is their job. Realize that it is your privilege to be in their store, so if you don't like their rules, you don't have to shop there, but you don't have the right to insult the greeter or have a meltdown because you don't like their rules. The world does not have to change to meet your standards. Instead, you find a place that does meet your standards and move on. 

The same applies to social media. How many times have you seen someone go off on someone else because they had differing opinions? The instigator has the right to say what they want and they think, but when someone tries to defend themselves or their views, they are insulted, name-called and shut down as if they don't have the same rights as the instigator. For those that might not recognize this, it's called being a bully, and they come in all colors, shapes, sizes, ethnicities, religions, and income levels. 

Where it is really getting bad is in groups on Facebook. People truly have lost all sense of right and wrong and have zero respect for rules. They seem to have just decided they can say and do what they want and no one should have a problem with it. If a group has rules, these provocateurs will sidestep them or in some cases trounce right over the top of them and act a fool and then blame admins and the group in general if they get called out, timed out, or thrown out, because of their own behaviors. It really is getting ridiculous and because of it, many groups are losing good members and good admins and some groups are just choosing to shut down altogether. Can you blame them? Dealing with adolescent acting, self-entitled adults gets exhausting and since being an admin is a volunteer gig, it is hardly worth the time and trouble to deal with a bunch of trolling bullies. 

We as a society need to realize that we are setting a bad standard not only for the present day but also for the generations that are coming up. This behavior of acting up and acting out and making excuses for the behavior has gone way too far. Those of us still fostering some normal brain cells have got to take a stand and send some of these tantruming Kens and Karens to the woodshed. 

Let's quit enabling and excusing this behavior with language like, "Well 2020 was such a rough year and people are just so stressed and......." YES, 2020 was a rough year, and not just for Karens and Kens. It was a rough year for all of us, and yet I don't have the expectation that I can walk into Walmart and tell them that just because I hate wearing a mask, that I don't have to wear one if that is their rule. If wearing a mask is so off-putting to me, I will go somewhere where they don't care if I wear a mask or not. I won't however, make Ms. Greeter feel like crap and rethink her whole job situation and other life choices, by throwing a tantrum and putting her in the middle of it all. That is not my right, my privilege, nor my entitlement to behave as if store rules do not apply to me. 

I also will not accept mental health issues as an excuse for bad behavior anymore. Of course, there are some very extreme cases where mental health factors into a situation, but that excuse gets used way too often anymore and it needs to be stopped. Using that excuse to meltdown because McDonald's is out of McNuggets should be embarrassing for you and it takes away from and lessens the reality for those who truly do have grave mental health issues. So enough! Don't hide behind mental health and use that as an excuse for bad behavior. About 75% of the population has some form of mental health issues and after this last year, that number is probably higher, but not everyone uses their mental health as an excuse to act a fool and verbally abuse innocent people. Shame on those who do!

Finally, as I said in the beginning if you are so easily triggered, have so little self-control, and are so self-entitled that you feel you are the only one who should have a voice, have rights, and have an opinion and that your behavior good or bad should just be accepted, then you are the problem. Instead of inflicting yourself on the world as you are, get some help. Try some anger management, if you really think you have mental health issues, get yourself to a therapist and most of all, get over yourself. The last year didn't just happen to you. We all suffered and we are all trying to heal and you Karen, are not helping yourself or anyone else by being a b! tch. Start using some common sense. You know, the stuff our founding fathers just assumed we would still have all these years later. 

If social media triggers you to the point of abusing others verbally or otherwise, get off of it and stay off of it. If the news media frightens you or keeps you stressed out, turn it off. If you can't handle being disagreed with or the company of other human beings, then get yourself an emotional support animal. Do what you need to do to keep yourself healthy, but don't feel that if you are unhappy or unhealthy that somehow it is okay, to make others just as unhappy and unhealthy as you are. 

For everyone else, quit cutting these instigators, bullies, trolls, Kens, Karens, and self-entitled narcissists slack. Start standing up to them and calling them out. Quit accepting unacceptable behavior and shut them down and shut them out. We as a society should be better than this. After all these 245 years of freedoms and rights, we should have learned more than we have. We should have learned to be grateful, to be kind, and to show humanity to our fellow human beings. It is not hate, entitlement, anger, or fear that are going to move us forward and make us whole. It is love, kindness, and forgiveness and until we master these, we will continue with this. 

<soapbox off>

Until next time, be kind, be calm, and most of all, show some self respect.....no one likes a bully. 

  

So, I Think David Has Angels......

So tell me....what do you believe in? 

You are probably scratching your head and wondering just what I am talking about, because of course, this question could have a multitude of answers, depending on what I am referencing. So, what am I referencing? Do you believe in ghosts? The supernatural? Hauntings and all that hauntings may imply? 

Now I know that there are those who are Christian and those of other beliefs too that feel like any or all the above are verging on a walk on the dark side, which is a place none of us wants to be. Sometimes though, things come into our lives that make us literally have to question, and wonder what else is out there in the world. Is all that is unknown dark and evil, or is there simply more out there than we can possibly imagine? Is it possible to reconcile a faith-based life with the unexplained? 

Now for those of you just tuning in, or those that don't know me, I was born and raised Roman Catholic (yes, Catholics are Christians). I have a very definite belief in good and evil and I was brought up believing in heaven and hell. To this day, I am still a practicing Catholic and I still hold tight to my beliefs. 

If you are not familiar with Catholicism, let me bring you up to speed. Catholics brought you exorcisms (the banishing of demons or demonic possession from those who have been possessed) and we have a pretty definite line drawn in the sand about good vs. evil, so it should not come as a shock that I was brought up with the following beliefs. To give you the Cliffs Notes: you...say your prayers, go to Mass, pray your rosary every day, say your blessing at meals and thank God for your food,  read your bible, and most of all......don't play with ouija boards. While that last one should pertain to just about anyone, my mom was a particular stickler on ouija boards. 

This should all make sense in the fact that all you have to do is look around to know that there is true evil in the world and if you open yourself up to it, you may live or die to regret it. This is including but not limited to ghosts, demons, ouija boards (my mom REALLY hated them), seances, and fortune-tellers. Being the good Catholic girl that I am, I, for the most part, stick to these beliefs. I have no desire to know the future and while there are a few faces that have passed that I wouldn't mind seeing, I don't think I would actually do well having a real-world conversation with them. 

Where ghosts and demons are concerned, I am not much into horror, so I seldom watch or read about them, with the exception of reading about the Warrens. They do in fact fascinate me. As for ouija boards.....never in a thousand years. So with all these beliefs firmly in place, what happens when unexplained things happen that you can't deny and you can't really find a reason for? 

When I was very young, long before I was allowed to watch anything scary or even really knew about the world of scary and creepy, we lived in a house in Wichita, KS. It was an L-shaped ranch surrounded by a row of cedar trees. I hated this house as much as any four-year-old to seven-year-old could hate something. The house always made me feel creepy and certain rooms, including my own, really made me feel unsafe. At night I would go to bed and pull the covers completely over my head, no matter how hot it was. It always felt to me like someone was right beside me, breathing and watching me, and I was terrified each and every night. When I would tell my mom, she would tell me that I was being silly. Then I had a run-in with a Shadow Man that I had no idea was a Shadow Man. Not until I was an adult did I know what I saw that evening, but it left a lasting impression, and once again, my mother told me that I was being ridiculous. 

Once we left that house, I never feared the unknown or unseen again. I never felt a presence or felt unsafe around anything that wasn't definitely human. That however doesn't mean that I haven't experienced things. 

The house I currently live in is also the house I grew up in for the major part of my life. While nothing scary ever happened, we did have the occasional interior door fly open or jars mysteriously moving forward and falling off shelves (no earthquake involved), but it was not particularly frightening and I don't remember it ever even giving any of us the slightest sense of fear. 

When I was in my late teens, I did go through about a year of night terrors. It was a night after night occurrence where I would have dream paralysis over the absolute most horrid nightmares. Finally, I would come out of the paralysis and find myself screaming to the top of my lungs. My screams were loud enough to wake the dead and very definitely everyone in my house, and always my mom would nearly break her neck coming up the stairs to make sure I was okay. Once awake, I was fine, but it was a really long year for all of us. 

Nothing ever seemed to happen after that. At times I would have vivid dreams of people I had lost and dream I was having conversations with them, but even in the dreams, I knew they were leaving again, and so they were rather sad and surreal, but not scary. 

When I moved back into the house after my mom and husband died, I did notice some things with my youngest who at the time was a baby.  David always seemed to see someone or something that I couldn't. Often he would laugh and smile and coo while reaching beyond me. His focus was either above me or beside me and whatever he was looking at, always seemed to delight him. 

One night after an instance of him reaching and cooing for some unseen "thing" I had a dream that my mom was there. She was sitting on the bed talking to me and I told her about David and how he was acting. She just laughed and told me that David was seeing angels and that the angels had come to watch over him and play with him. I don't remember any more about the dream, but from that moment on, I too believed that it was probably angels he was playing with, or maybe even his daddy. Whatever or whoever it was though, it did not worry me or make me afraid. In fact, it gave me a certain sense of peace. 

So jump ahead to recently. David had a spine surgery a couple of years ago and prior to that surgery, his room was upstairs across from mine, but following the surgery, I moved him downstairs. His room is now the room that was my mom's. I have always had an audio monitor so that I could hear him at night, but it eventually died, so about three months ago, I purchased a camera monitor that has both audio and video for his room. It is connected to my phone and I can keep an eye on him all night. 

One of the first nights I had it hooked up, I noticed that there were orbs in the air. They weren't constant, but sporadic. I kind of cringed thinking that it was dust in the air or on the camera lens. I figured it was time for a really thorough house cleaning, so I cleaned like it was my job and I cleaned everything including the camera. That same night, I noticed orbs flying for about ten minutes or so, and then nothing. During that ten minutes though, David was staring off where one orb, in particular, seemed to have been. He kept smiling and reaching out, very reminiscent of when he was a baby. I could also hear him quietly making an "oooooh" noise. I thought I had left his tv on, but when I went downstairs, it was off. Hmmm.

The next day, I spent literally two hours trying to recreate the orbs with dust. I trickled dust across the lens, flipped dust into the air and literally turned on the fan, and blew dust. The dust didn't really create orbs. What came from the dust was more like little floating spots. I was both stumped and sneezing by the time I was finished. The experiment seemed to prove futile, so I did not really think much more about it after that. 

From time to time, I would still see the orbs here and there, and a couple of more times, I saw David act like he was interacting with something or someone, but it didn't worry me. In fact, as crazy as I can get about things, it didn't give me any negative vibes at all. 

Then about a week ago, I was laying in bed, and David was downstairs asleep. I happened to look at my phone and on the picture, David's room was literally alive with orbs. Without exaggeration, there were so many that on film, they seemed to be lighting up his room. What was really strange though was, the mini blind hanging on the window above his head. The window faces a dark alley and the window was shut. Suddenly, I started to see the blind roll as if into humps, something a mini blind cannot do. It can go back and forth if the wind catches it or up and down if pulled, but it cannot move in a rolling motion, but his was and then as I watched, about twenty orbs popped out of the blind and moved in all different directions and then the blind was still. It was at that moment that I decided I should hit record on the video. I recorded two full minutes of orbs going up the wall and down the wall and up towards the ceiling. Most were leaving a misty trail behind as they flew by. As this happened, David slept peacefully, with no movement or stress.

To see two-minute video of orbs flying, click here. 

This video did not stress me or worry me as I didn't feel anything negative about it. I knew what I thought it was, but still, it intrigued me, and I was curious as to what others might think was going on, so I posted it to my hometown Facebook page and to my own personal Facebook page. As you can imagine, the comments started rolling in. Some felt it was dust or dust mites, others said bugs on the camera lens, and others also saw orbs. Many were fascinated by the mist that seemed to be left behind by the orbs and someone else commented that most of the orbs seemed to be of mostly the same size and shape, which they felt would rule out dust or bugs as few dust particles or bugs are the same size and shape. Regardless of the opinions on what they were, most seemed fascinated by them, and some even watched the video frame by frame to see if anything else might have been captured. 

About an hour later, I looked at my phone again. The orb activity had appeared to stop, which I found peculiar if it were dust or dust mites, so I decided to take another video. This time I recorded it for only one minute as nothing appeared to be going on and I was pretty sure nobody wanted to watch David sleep for another minute. I also posted this second video and no one seemed to have an explanation how all my dust, dust mites, and bugs had suddenly just stopped moving when the conditions in the room had remained the same. 

Watching the second video back though, I did see something a bit unusual. About 20 seconds in, in the corner, just above David's bed, I saw a burst of sparkly light that seemed to explode and dissipate almost like a firework. I have a feeling I know who that sparkly little firecracker was. 

One-minute video with no orbs.

After watching the video's I believe that what I was seeing were angels. Perhaps David's guardian angel felt lonely or maybe they were there because, in that period of time, David needed them. Maybe though, like many times before, they were just there to play. At any rate, though, they seem to give David no stress and I felt nothing negative while watching them. 

So what does all of this mean and how does this align with my beliefs? In my way of thinking, it means that there is far more to this world than we know and that since David and I have not brought on or invited any evil into our world, like as not, there is nothing evil in any of this. Now the Shadow Man? I think that had far more to do with that house we lived in than it did with me. I think that just being as young and impressionable as I was, I was just sensitive to whatever ugly was in that house. These orbs though are something different and I believe they/it align with my beliefs just fine. 

If you are religious or spiritual at all, then you know there are angels around us all the time, and many of those poor angels have saved our behinds on more than one occasion. So who is to say that from time to time they don't just show themselves (as orbs or whatever they choose) and remind us that they do in fact exist and that they are in fact with us....all the time? 

So yeah, I think David has angels, and you know what? I am just fine with that.

Until next time.....follow your heart, follow your beliefs, and....... never doubt the existence of angels.  

It's Been A Year

On May 9, 2021, it was not just Mother's Day. For one of my closest friends and her family, it was also one of the hardest days of their lives. It was the one-year anniversary of the loss of their beautiful daughter Kylie. Those of you who follow my blogs may remember my blog about her last year. 

It was easy to write about her because she was larger than life and left a huge hole in the hearts of those who knew and loved her and even in the hearts of some who didn't have the honor of knowing her. When writing that blog piece at the time though, I had no idea all that would transpire in the year to come and all that I would learn. 

Kylie's mom and I have been friends for well over 40 years. In fact, I can't really remember a time when Thiry (her mom) and Kylie's Aunt Berty, weren't a part of my life. They have both been there through just about every high and low of my teen and adult life. It is a bond that is as close as sisterhood and because of this, watching what Thiry has had to go through this year has at best made me feel useless and helpless to help her and Kelly, and at worst, devastated me knowing that I had no earthly idea the depth of pain and sorrow that they were going through. All I could do was let them know I was there for them, and then let Thiry reach out as she was ready. She actually has at times and then at others, she pulls away and pulls within, trying desperately to make sense of a senseless situation. It's a God and time thing, and both are way above my pay grade. 

I will say though, that because of Kylie, I personally have changed and I can honestly say that there has not been one day in the last year that I haven't thought of this girl. 

Kylie's parents started a Remember Kylie page on Facebook right after she died, and throughout the year, there have been so many people share pictures, videos, and even stories of their memories of Kylie. The amazing thing is that there are a lot of people who joined the page who never knew Kylie, but through the posts and pictures, they felt like they did. She became almost as big a part of them as she was to those who did know and love her. Many is the time I have thought that Kylie was still working her magic as she was still touching lives, hearts, and souls even though she was no longer here. 

In October, Thiry and Kelly held a memorial for Kylie at the lake. It was a cool, crisp fall day that somehow to me felt like a Kylie day. There were so many people there and the memorial service was amazing. I couldn't help but look around and see just how many people's lives she was still touching in the moment. 

My two older sons both went and we also took my 7-year-old granddaughter. The whole service was just so wonderful that it made me very glad that this was little W's first experience with a funeral/memorial service. I left feeling that Kylie would more than approve. I also feel that Kylie was also working hard that day, as my older son, W's dad, who is usually very stoic was actually very moved by the service, something that doesn't often happen. And my other son ended up running into someone he had no idea had a Kylie connection and with whom he had a very contentious past. On that day, he ended up seeing the past a little differently and found some peace. It was a situation that I thought would never happen, but I have no doubt, Kylie put it into motion. 

As I said before, because of Kylie, I have changed. I now sport a beautiful sea turtle tattoo on my right wrist. I am convinced that Kylie and God had a hand in it. I got the tattoo back in June during the heat of the COVID lockdowns. I had no thoughts of getting a tattoo at the time, but one night I had some awful nightmares. While I can't remember what they were about, they woke me up suddenly, and as I woke up, my first and only thought was that I had to get a sea turtle tattoo on my right wrist. Specific...right? Yes, I knew Kylie loved sea turtles, but I myself,  had never given them much thought and I definitely had never thought of getting one tattooed on me, but for some reason, I could think of nothing else. 

I tried to fight the newfound need for the turtle tattoo, but the entire day, I became almost obsessed with the thought, so I tried to call a place. I was told that tattoo shops were not open because of COVID, and when they did open up again, there would likely be a months-long wait because of the backup. I was almost relieved because I wasn't sure I was ready for another tattoo, but apparently, Kylie would have none of it. As I opened Facebook, out of nowhere there was someone in my newsfeed that was in the next town that did tattoos. What??? I had never seen this person on Facebook before, but I had an uncontrollable urge to message her. Low and behold, she worked out of her home and had an opening the very next day. I sent her what I thought I wanted and in less than 24 hours, there I sat getting the most beautiful sea turtle I had ever seen before, tattooed on my right wrist, with Kylie's initials underneath. Best of all, I barely felt it. I can honestly say that I love the tattoo, not just because it is really beautiful, but also because I think Kylie had a hand in me getting it. 

Because of Kylie, I hold my own children much closer to my heart now. We can't possibly know God's plan for our life or our death, but I make sure that not a day goes by that I don't tell my kids how much I love them. Also because of Kylie, I do my best to go out of my way to be kind to others. I try to listen when others speak and to really hear what they have to say. I try to step out of my comfort zone at least once a week and see more of life than is just in my little piece of the world and I try to be my own genuine self and both celebrate and respect who I am. In my mind, these are all messages that Kylie sent the world, through who she was and how she was and I guess I feel that the best way to honor her now, is to honor who she was and how she lived her life. I think Kylie's genuine love and kindness for and towards her friends, family, and even complete strangers should be humanity goals for all of us. 

Through Thiry and because of Kylie, I have become much more in touch with my faith and I have opened myself up to the unimaginable wonders that might be beyond this earthly life. Of course, there are times that I can't help but wonder what might have been where Kylie is concerned. What might she have done and who might she have been as an adult? Then I remember that you can't dwell on the what-ifs. You can only focus on what is and I think in Kylie's case, what is, is still Kylie being Kylie and God has her hard at work, as she is still touching lives, bringing people to faith, and helping people to be the best versions of themselves they can be.

So Kylie, it has been a year. It has been a tough one for those who love you, but it has also been one of miracles and blessings that I have no doubt you have had a hand in. Give my mom and your grandma Ruth and Aunt Laura a hug for me and keep up the good work. You continue to make this world a better place by touching us, one person at a time. 

Until next time, hug those you love, be conscious of the blessings and miracles all around you and........never forget to say...... I love you!

 

Something(s) Positive

Let's be honest. The last year or so has been a sh!t storm of epic proportions. It wasn't just politics, or riots, or police, or criminals or COVID. It was actually all of it wrapped so tightly together that we didn't have a chance to breathe or get our bearings. Things got so bad at times, that we would continue to look for the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel, only to find that each light proved to be just another train, ready to run us down and turn us inside out. In fact, I think quite honestly, even the most positive people in this world had trouble seeing past all the negative and finding even the tiniest grains of positivity, but it was there. In fact, it was here right in my little town, and that is what I am focusing on today. 

I know some of you are popping your anti-anxiety pills, putting on your masks and covering your heads waiting for the other shoe to drop reading this and wondering what positivity I can possibly be referring to as gas prices are rising, unemployment is off the charts and COVID is still knocking at our doors, but trust me, it is there and has been all along. 

Last year, at just about this time, I went for a walk in my community. I was frustrated at the time, as Spring Break had turned into a homeschooling nightmare (for me anyway), and by this time, everyone in my house had been doing their part to flatten the curve for a couple of months. We were literally ready to kill each other as we couldn't walk into another room without tripping over something or someone. The 24/7 togetherness was starting to take its toll. I needed some alone time and some positive reinforcement, and walks in my town of Mulvane, KS, usually gave me both. As always, my little community did not disappoint. 

I honestly think that it was on this day, that I can pinpoint the turnaround in my attitude. Until then, I had been so inundated with basic math that was stumping me and a very social, special needs young man who was feeling anything but social or special, seeing only my face day after day. I was turning into a very unpleasant person. 

The news media and social media were even further driving my and everyone else's mood into the ground as they were effectively playing  Chicken Little 24 hours a day. Well, fine! If the sky was falling, then I was going to be outside when it happened. So I was off to enjoy my little piece of the world that always seemed to give me a sense of peace and belonging, even in the worst of times. 

As I began my walk, I expected to see bare streets and a bit of desolation as this is pretty much what the news media told us was expected of us and to be expected outside our locked down homes. Amazingly though, as I walked through the neighborhoods, I started seeing some really positive things. I saw parents were sitting together on front porches, watching their kids play in the yard, and as I walked by, they would smile and yell, "Hello!" People were also out working in their yards and flower beds. Again as I walked by, they would look up and nod a greeting. These little acts of friendliness and socialization, actually made my heart soar a bit. People had their windows open and you could catch wafts of dinner smells coming through screens and sounds of families talking, cooking, and interacting. It was actually comforting, if not surprising, to say the least.

Toys filled front yards and bikes lay across lawn after lawn. You could smell the delicious smell of hamburgers cooking on the grill and all over you could hear kids laughing and playing. Amazingly too, I was not the only one who seemed to be needing some exercise and some outdoor scenery. I passed literally dozens of people out doing just what I was doing. There were parents and kids out walking, couples out walking, people out walking their dogs, and several, who like me, were alone and seemed to be enjoying just a little "me" time. 

In the moment, it dawned on me, that I was seeing a lot of smiles. In front of me, were parents interacting with their kids, and kids who had put down the game controllers and traded them in for bikes, basketballs, and soccer balls. It was then, that I remembered one of my mom's favorite sayings, Something good comes out of everything bad. Perhaps what I was witnessing was the good. Truly, that walk changed my outlook on the world and the negativity that I had been feeling. In some ways, it was a permanent change that went straight into my heart and still remains with me to this day.  

I think that with all the fear, stress, and frustration we had all been feeling all the past months, among the weeds, some flowers were starting to bloom. Families were starting to do things together because many parents were working from home. Meals were eaten together as a family and family game nights were becoming a thing again. Most importantly, it appeared that parents were becoming more in tune with their kids. It was almost like we had chosen to leave a bit of the technological world behind and step back into a world where life was just a bit sweeter and a whole lot simpler.

People were also getting in touch with their creative side as graduations, weddings and parties, were either canceled or put on hold. Parents were finding ways to celebrate their kid's big days whether it was in their driveway with a few close family members and recording it for the rest of the world to see, or whether it was doing drive-by caravans with signs, whistles, and music. It was so out of the norm and unconventional that it was a hit and many kids were asking for similar celebrations even post COVID. Now that is saying something!!!!

Also, in my part of the world and possibly in others too, dragging main streets or popular streets used to be a religion for teens every Friday and Saturday night. It was something we looked forward to and it was simple and fun. Well, my town and many other towns like it,  brought it back. It was something that could be done while we followed the rules, social distanced, and had some much-needed fun, at the same time. Yes, we actually found a way to be out in the open and socialize and still social distance. It was great! It was amazing and it gave the younger generations a peek into what their parents and grandparents called "fun" back in the old days. 

As for me, I decided to start trying some new and different things in the kitchen. Through the help of YouTube, I learned to bake a pretty decent cookie (something I had always failed at before) as well as trying my hand at a little Asian and German cooking. I also became a pretty prolific bread and cinnamon roll baker. This explains a lot about my newfound need for the gym.  

While I was doing all of this, others had put their long days of flattening the curve through lockdown, into gardening and because people had so much time on their hands, 2020 seemed to be a pretty spectacular year for tomatoes, cucumbers, and other assorted veggies. Unfortunately for them but fortunately for me, many of these gardeners found themselves with a surplus of this healthy and mostly green stuff. Thus, I was blessed to be gifted with mounds of it, so what did I do? I canned all summer and I truly began enjoying it. We as a family were also able to spend a lot of time in the pool and yard and the kids spent almost every waking moment outside. All in all, we had probably the best summer we had had in years. 

Funny, when the CDC or authority figures tell us we can't or shouldn't do something, how it just makes it all that much more enticing. I took notice that kids seemed to put their video games and computers away and instead opted for bikes and skates and yes, they even found neighborhood friends to play baseball, kickball, and other almost forgotten outdoor activities with. I mean after all....they were outside! Even some pools were open (not our community pool, but others were) and many kids found a little normalcy spending time doing what kids have done in the summer for generations. I guess we were making lemonade out of the lemons of a tough situation.

Looking back on the last year, yes, there was a lot of negativity and in some ways, the world that we knew pre-COVID, has changed forever. The last 15 months has altered not only how we work and play, but also how we do business and even go to school. It has affected jobs, livelihoods, education, and even family dynamics. Some of this change may prove to be permanent, while other things have slowly started finding their way back to what seems a bit more normal.

Viewing this all from a place of positivity, perhaps parents being able to work from home isn't such a bad thing as in many cases it has brought families closer and made parents more aware of their kids' actions and interactions. Also, parents having a birdseye view of who their kids are as students and what our teachers face on the daily is definitely an eye-opening, if not always a positive thing. I am sure by now, few parents are saying "My kid would never." Now they are likely realizing that not only would their kid do it but in some cases, their kid would be organizing it. Yeah, teachers don't get paid enough. 

We also have gotten to have a front-row seat for the very worst in people, but also we got to see the very best in people too. We have been given a unique opportunity to understand what a gift front-line workers are to our communities and we have been able to see kindness grow from the most unexpected places. We have also learned that regardless of what the CDC or government tells us, that there is no such thing as a non-essential worker and that without all workers, businesses tend to fold up, crumble and become non-existent. We are ALL essential. 

So whether it was learning something new, spending more time with our families, or just having the vantage point of seeing the world through a different lens, COVID was not all bad. It appears to be one of those really sucky life lessons that we never wanted, but we really needed, in order to open our eyes about the world around us and the people in it. 

Since that walk on that one warm spring afternoon in my little town, I have been much less angry and much more understanding that the one thing that affected us all (COVID), did not affect us all in the same way.  Whether we chose to mask up, hunker down, and take our cues from the CDC or whether we chose to handle it in a different way, at the end of the day, it has changed us all. Let us hope that going forward, we take the lessons learned (whether universally or individually)and continue to make positive changes both in our lives and in our own piece of the world, because....."No event or situation is ever so bad if you learn something from it." Yes, another momism. Your welcome. 

So until next time, stay healthy, stay active, and most of all.....work to make your piece of the world a better place. 

Happy Birthing Person's Day! What????

So I took a few days off from blogging, to relax, recuperate, and to decompress. During that time, we celebrated Birthing Persons Day. What????? We celebrated who????? I'm sorry but NO! Just NO!

Okay, today I might get a little triggering to some, so don't say you haven't been warned. 

If you have been avoiding social media or media of all kinds, then you may be scratching your head over the whole Birthing Persons Day comment. What essentially it is, is a way to change that old worn-out Mother's Day into a more inclusive holiday. In truth, it comes from those who are constantly trying to normalize numerous sexes. Its birth, if you will, comes from trans people (women becoming men specifically) who are having babies and saying that yes, men can now have babies. In their eyes, mother is no longer an inclusive term, so like everything else that is currently getting canceled, apparently the word mother should also be canceled, and we should simply ignore the fact that regardless of what you identify as only a biological woman can have a baby.

It should also come as no shock that the NARAL (National Abortion Rights Action League), is completely on board with this, claiming it is a much more inclusive, although incorrect term. In my humble opinion, abortion rights activists have always had the agenda to make human life expendable if it was not viewed as convenient, therefore it dehumanizes the unborn. So what is the next step? Let's also dehumanize or at the very least dismiss the importance of the mother too. Instead of viewing motherhood as something special and the ability to grow a human inside you as miraculous, let's instead make mother a canceled word and make pregnancy and childbirth something anyone can do! But can just anyone do this?

Not surprisingly, some on the left have already jumped on board with this and have even started referring to themselves as "birthing persons." For real???? Where are the feminists who usually throw major fits about this kind of thing? Why is there not marching in the streets and a demand for the right to be called "mother" and a stand being taken that "Mother's Day" should be upheld? Instead, we hear.....crickets. 

Now, this in my opinion is not about trans people per se. I do not care what sex you want to be and I don't care what you want your pronouns to be. If you want to be called, "he, she, they, here, there," I don't care. That is your business. I will even go so far as to say, if YOU want to be called a jelly bean, I will call you a jelly bean, but if we are erring on the side of science, then there are only two biological sexes, male and female, and only one of those biological sexes can actually carry a baby in their womb and little hint....it is not the biological male. 

I am a biological woman. I am called mom, mommy, mama, mother, ma'am, and after some read this, probably some other names that won't sound so pretty, but the fact is, I have earned all of those names. I have carried children inside me from conception to birth and I have been a mom to those kids since they were conceived. I have gone through all of the biological womanly things from starting my period to menopause, and while some of that has literally sucked, I have biologically been through it all. I have also been a single mom for the last 20 years, raising kids on my own and often times dealing with the fallout of being a single mother in the world. Because of all of this, I have earned a day where I eat free, get a gift or two, and where I remind each of my children just how long my labor was with them. Why? Because I have done what no biological male can. I provided the egg, which became the human that grew inside me for nine months, and then I suffered through the labor that no man was created to suffer through. 

I have earned Mother's Day, and I will be damned if I give into a society that wants to simply dismiss my role in creating human life and make it and me ordinary. I am not ordinary! I am a woman and more importantly......I AM A MOTHER! So if as a woman, you think so little of yourself and your sisters, as to have the greatest role you were ever given on this planet be classified as something any mere"person" can do, then you go for it, but as for me and mine, we will celebrate Mother's Day at my house and you can count on that. 

Until next time....be sunny, be happy and give your mom a hug.....she has earned it! 

 

The 7th Daughter and a Near Miss (Another Mom Story)

If you have followed this blog in the past, then you know that I have talked about my mom before and about her interesting life. Mom was the 7th daughter of a 7th daughter and she was told all her growing up years that because of this, she was "special." The largely known and I guess believed, legend behind this old belief is that the 7th daughter of the 7th daughter has second sight and yes, my mother definitely had second sight. So much so that she hated it and got to the point where she would never talk about it. Her mother too seemed to know things that most would not, but that is a story for another day.

Maybe it was because of this whole 7th daughter thing, but my mother attracted the craziest people and incidents all through her life. As a kid, I loved nothing more than to listen to my mom talk about her always interesting and sometimes terrifying life. It included everything from her dating the son of a mafioso, to a mysteriously red painted bathroom, to her being terrified by a shadow man of her own.

 Now, much of this might be chalked up to a vivid imagination, except my mother wasn't really like that. She was very much black and white and she wasn't one for the fantastical. Also, in my lifetime, I also had a front-row seat for some of the craziness that was her life, as it spilled over into my life and the lives of others that knew nothing about my mother's earlier experiences, so yeah, I pretty much think that there may be some truth to the whole 7th daughter thing.

There are many of my mom's stories that I could tell, and eventually will tell, because....they ought to be told. Today though, I am going to tell about one of the truly scary stories that I was actually a part of, but was much too little to remember. Listening to a story on the "Let's Not Meet," podcast, reminded me of this story, so I thought I would share it here. 

My mom was always a very pretty lady, but when she was young, she was stunning. She was a very small woman at 5'4" and she weighed maybe 100 lbs. She had long hair that she wore up and she had high cheekbones. Truly she was lovely. So when she was in her late 20's, she was a single mom (not exactly the norm for that era) living in a small apartment in Denver, CO. She worked as a 3rd shift RN, so she could be home during the day with me. At the time, I wasn't even a year old. 

One day, Mom was working around the apartment, cleaning and trying to keep up with me. The apartment we lived in was small and only had one door. It was in the front with a screen door and a solid door. In the solid door was the mail slot. It was apparently the way most received their mail back in the early 1960s, so when people knew the mailman would be coming around, they would unlock their screens so he had access to the mail slot. 

It was about mid-morning and as Mom finished up dishes, she heard a knock at her door and thinking nothing of it, went to answer it. As she did, standing in front of her, was a man in his mid 30's. He immediately and quickly, told her that he was selling magazine subscriptions and wanted to know if she was interested in buying some. Mom took one look at him, he was wearing a hat and a suit that had definitely seen better days. It appeared to be threadbare in places and somewhat wrinkled. The man carried no clipboard, no briefcase, and nothing whatsoever that would indicate he was selling anything. Mom was instantly suspicious and told him "No thank you," and she started to pull the screen door shut when he suddenly yanked it wide open. She then stepped back and tried to shut the wooden door, but the man was quick and he tried to shove his leg between the door and the jam before she could get it closed. Again, Mom was a small woman and not really a match for a full-grown man. 

Mom immediately started to panic thinking about me, just feet away and this strange man, trying to force his way into our house. She could feel herself starting to lose traction against the door as he started to push against the door with his full weight. All she could think of was if she could only get the door shut then she could put the deadbolt on, but getting that door closed was looking less and less likely. Even her mother bear adrenaline was starting to be no match for this man who obviously had an agenda my mom was not wanting to find out about. 

Just as the man's strength seemed to be overcoming my mom's, from around the corner came the mailman. He was a black man who was a good 5 inches taller and about 30 pounds heavier than the man trying to get into the apartment. The mailman stopped to assess what might be going on between this man and my now frightened to her core, mom. The mailman then walked directly up and stepped right next to the man. "Is everything alright?" he asked, looking straight at my mom and seeing the tears of relief forming in her eyes. He knew full well, that nothing was currently alright. 

"No!" mom managed to force out. "This man is trying to get into my apartment." 

The man immediately stepped back and straightened his wrinkled suit and stuttered, that he was only trying to sell her some magazines. 

"Oh," the mailman said, reaching into his parcel and pulling out three magazines, "Well you are at the wrong place sir," he continued, "I am the regular mailman for this complex and I can tell you that this nice lady gets plenty of magazines already." As he said this, he handed my mom her mail and the magazines that he had pulled from his parcel. She had never ordered these magazines but she silently held them in her hand. 

The man looked flustered, and for a second he appeared to size up the mailman. Realizing that he likely would not stand a chance against him, he mumbled something more about just selling magazines and took off, quickly walking across the street. 

Mom began to cry with relief and thanked the mailman profusely, handing him back the magazines that obviously belonged to others on his route. He took the magazines and said, "Now ma'am, I'm going to stand right here while you pull this screen door shut and lock it. Then I want you to shut that big door and lock it too. Then I want you to check all your other windows and make sure they are shut tight and locked," and finally, realizing maybe even more so than my mother, the potentially fatal mistake she had made by opening the door to this man in the first place, he said, "and ma'am, do not open your door to anyone you don't know. Next time someone might not be here to step in." 

Mom knew he was right and thanked him again and again as she did as he instructed and locked her screen. Just as promised, the mailman did not budge until he heard the deadbolt click and then the chain lock slid in place. He then took a look around and satisfied that the man had seen it in his best interest to move on, the mailman continued his deliveries.

After Mom finished checking all the windows, she began to regain her bearings a bit. She checked on me, still laying on the floor, playing with a toy, innocently oblivious to the near-miss that had just taken place. She then walked back to the front door and the window on the other side of it, just to double or maybe triple check that it was all locked up tight. As she pulled back the curtain, her breath caught in her throat and the panic began to creep up in her again. Looking diagonally across the street on the corner, leaning up against, of all things.....a public mailbox, stood the man who had tried to get into her house. He apparently had waited until the mailman had finished his rounds in the area before he came out of hiding to once again make his presence known to my mom. 

As he saw Mom peer out the window, he tipped his hat to her as he nonchalantly sucked on the butt of a half-smoked cigarette. Now this was a different time and a different day, as today, had someone been in her shoes, they would have immediately called the police. Then though, police were only called in emergencies, and as scary as the earlier incident had been, he was no longer menacing her. Now he was merely watching her, or what she assumed was her, and she knew there was no law against that. Moreover, she was not going to be viewed as a reactionary woman with an overactive imagination by the police. No, she would save that call until she thought they could actually do something. This was not the time. 

So for the next few hours, Mom stood close to the window and watched the man as he never moved from his leisurely stance against the mailbox, while he chain-smoked himself through a pack of cigarettes. At some point, my congenial disposition changed into that of a tired baby that needed fed, changed, and put down for a nap. As Mom, jumped to her motherly duties, about half an hour passed, and by the time she returned to look out the window, the man was gone. She wasn't sure if this relieved her or frightened her even more. Rather than panic though, she reminded herself that the doors and windows were locked, and at least for now, we were safe. 

The rest of the afternoon passed as fairly normal. Mom finished the work that she had left unattended when the man showed up, and only occasionally did she peek out to see if the man had returned. He did not. 

As evening approached, Mom fed me, and then she made herself a sandwich and sat down to watch the evening news. As the picture cleared and the news began, the top story was of a stewardess, that had been found dead in her apartment that afternoon. The apartment was just two blocks over from where we lived, and luckily, the police had been able to apprehend the killer, as a neighbor had heard the girl scream and the killer came running out as the neighbor ran over to check on the girl. They showed the man in handcuffs being taken to the patrol car by police. Mom let out a scream that startled me to the point of causing baby tears. There, on the tv was the man that had tried to sell Mom magazines that morning. The girl had been found with her clothes halfway off and strangled. Blessedly, her screams had stopped him from doing what Mom knew in her heart that he had intended to do to her. Now Mom called the police. 

After hearing Mom's story, the police figured that Mom had been his original target, but after the mailman stopped him, and once he realized that Mom had locked the house up tight and had no plans of leaving the apartment, the guy must have decided that she was no longer an easy target and decided to move on to someone else. 

The poor stewardess had just come in from a flight and had just gotten home when she was attacked. Did this guy offer to sell her magazines too? Did he manage to force his way into her apartment because no kind mailman came to her aid? Mom didn't know and neither did the police, all they knew was on that day, Mom and I were the lucky ones, and the poor stewardess, not so much. The poor stewardess never saw it coming.  

To this day I wonder about that mailman and I wonder if he realized that he had saved not one but two lives that day. Without him, I have no doubt that things would have turned out very differently for both Mom and me. So was this all about my mom being a 7th daughter of a 7th daughter, or was this just one of those scary near misses in life, that happens to all of us, and stays with you for the rest of your life? I wouldn't even venture a guess. 

So until we meet again......stay healthy, stay happy, and always be careful who you open the door to. 

Do You Podcast? I Do!

Being of the age I am, music was always my go-to source when I needed to work out, clean the house, drive just about anywhere or simply unwind. I have made my way through record players, transistor radio's, 8-track players, tape players, stereo's with all the bells and whistles, boom boxes, walk-mans, disc-mans, cd's, iPods, and now my phone. In other words, whatever was the newest thing for music to be coming out of, I had it and I was listening. 

Today though, we are not just relegated to listening to music through our devices and headphones. With our smartphones, we can listen to a variety of things from books to my new favorite thing, podcasts, all with no more effort than carrying around the outdated iPod. Okay, sometimes technology is pretty cool. 

So always a die-hard music listening fan no matter what I was doing, for some reason I decided to start exploring the world of podcasts. I honestly think maybe my first step into the podcast world was spurred on by my two older sons. I am a huge fan of true crime stories and murder mysteries on tv. I think I inherited this from my mother, who also was a fan. She used to read every true crime book she could get her hands on. At any rate, my boys gave me no end of grief over my entertainment choices. The older one commented every time he walked into the room and would ask if I might not like to watch a comedy for once instead of my murder shows, while the other son started calling my true crime "obsession" (their word not mine), murder porn. Now mind you, this entertainment critiquing was coming from those who found slasher movies and South Park, quality tv viewing, so truly, their opinion didn't rank very high on the things I worried about, but my grandkids also gave my choice of viewing a few weird looks from time to time, so maybe my true crime wasn't for everyone.

I guess it was about when I started going to the gym, that I decided I wanted to make better use of my time on the treadmill. I figured that rather than just listening to songs I had already heard thousands of times, maybe I would do something different. So I  started looking up podcasts. Naturally, I looked up true crime. I was in heaven. There were so many podcasts devoted to just this thing. I began sifting through them and looking for ones that really piqued my interest. 

Now before I go any further, for those of you who have not ventured into the world of podcasts, there are literally all kinds of podcasts. There are some that are like listening to the news. There are others that are like listening to a talk show, and others like listening to a lecture of sorts. My favorite though, are the ones that are basically told like a story or like an old-time radio show. 

The true crime podcasts that I seem to be drawn to most though were crimes discussed by comedians turned sleuths. Believe it or not, there are a lot of these and they are quite entertaining. I think since it is such dark subject matter, a little well-placed levity or in some cases, badly placed levity, helps to balance out the story and keep things a bit lighter. My second favorite is the podcasts where real detectives and police tell the stories of crimes that have come across their desks, and that they have had to solve. And finally, my third favorite is the cold case stories that can be decades old, that are being brought forward again and given new life with genealogical DNA and old clues being picked up by fresh eyes and new listener's ears. They all make for hours of entertaining and enlightening information.

 After stepping into this new world, I found myself with my headphones on and listening to podcasts most of the time. Not unlike music, I had a whole playlist of my new favorite podcasts and many had new episodes daily, some weekly, some bi-weekly, and some monthly. I was actually enjoying this far more than tv, as I could clean a tub and still be listening to an unsolved murder mystery. Bonus, no one knew what I was listening to and the kids could be in the same room and not give me funny looks. Of course, now my two children have opinions on me having headphones on all the time, but that is a them issue and not a me issue. 

One day, after being caught up on all my current true crime episodes, I decided to branch out even further into this new podcast world and look at some other types of podcasts. I found that I also really liked some of the scarier true-life stories, as well as some history podcasts, some political podcasts, and some religious podcasts. Quite honestly, there are podcasts for just about every kind of person and every kind of genre. They are almost addicting. 

I have found that since I have started listening to podcasts, I am actually learning a great deal. It appears that my old brain is still just spongy enough to absorb some new facts or at the very least....old facts that I have forgotten.  Listening to some of the historical podcasts, I have learned things I either slept through in high school or was simply never taught. I have run across some fascinating little-known stories that keep listening fun and even a bit unexpected at times. I have also learned that politics goes far deeper than just what we see and hear on the surface. Some of the podcasts give a deep dive into what goes on behind the scenes that we don't always get to know about from the mainstream media. Who knew that all was not as it seems in the world of presidents, senators, and such?  It all really is quite fascinating. 

One of my favorite podcasts that is non-murder porn, is called, Let's Not Meet. This podcast is about stories that listeners write in and tell about the weird, strange, and sometimes downright terrifying encounters they have had with people, places and things that they don't want to meet up with again. It is amazing how many near misses with serial killers and kidnappers there are out there. It is a weird and at times, a scary world, where sometimes the scariest creatures we run into are the other humans around us.... and this particular podcast shines a light on a lot of it. 

Now don't get me wrong, I still love my music and it still makes its way into the soundtrack of my life quite often, but with podcasts, I feel like my brain is working just a little harder, to visualize the stories that I am hearing, and most of all, I am always learning. In some strange way, it feels like my brain is doing double duty when I am both doing cardio and listening to a story about Billy the Kid. Yeah, I know. I am weird. 

Well, if any of this has piqued your interest and you might be looking for something just a little different, then maybe a podcast or three, are right up your alley. If you are interested in checking some out, then below I am listing some of my favorites. If however, I am preaching to the choir and you are already a podcast listener and lover, then please, leave me some of your favorites in the comments below. You can never find enough good podcasts.....right? 

Some of my favorites:

My Favorite Murder: two comedians, research and tell the stories of famous and not so famous murders. They also share murder stories from their fans. Their tag line: Stay sexy and don't get murdered? 

Small Town Dicks: Yeardley Smith of Lisa Simpson fame, and twin brother detectives Dan and Dave from small-town America, tell stories of murders they have been associated with as well as, they have on guest detectives who tell their own small-town murder stories. 

The Murder Squad: Detectives Jensen and Holes tell stories of murders and crimes both solved and unsolved. 

Let's Not Meet: Listener generated stories of true life scary stories filled with near misses and terrifying events with persons, places, and things they never want to meet again. 

Life Is Worth Living (Bishop Fulton Sheen): Talks and sermons that the late Bishop Fulton Sheen gave during his life as a Bishop of the Roman Catholic church. 

The Way I Heard It (Mike Rowe): TV personality Mike Rowe tells true stories reminiscent of Paul Harvey that always have a surprise ending, where the listener always learns something they didn't know before. 

History This Week: Well-known and little-known stories of history that happened on this date each week. 

American Story Tellers: History at its finest with historical stories we never knew we wanted to hear and that we never learned in school.

Well, there you have it. These are some of my favorite podcasts. I hope you give them a try and that you enjoy them as much as I do, even if you aren't into murder porn, like me. 

So....until next time, may you stay healthy, may you enjoy the warmer weather, and most of all, may you too find your favorite podcast. 

Simpler Times and Impromptu Naps

 

When I was a kid, life seemed so much different. Maybe it was because life had a simpler feel to it and was a bit more structured. In fact, it seemed structured right down to the seasons. Yes, seasons even seemed to be more definite and predictable back then. 

Structure also carried over into our daily lives as there were definite meal times and rules that guided us through our days and kept our body and mind in tune with the world around us.  We got up at certain times, ate at certain times, went to work and school at certain times, played at certain times, and slept at certain times. We ate our meals as a family, did our homework, and had bedtimes. Also, because there were only three tv networks and three tv channels back then, we even knew what we were watching on tv each night. Monday night was Gunsmoke, Wednesday night was The Virginian, and the rest of the week was no different. 

Rules also played an important part in our lives. For instance, we knew that if we got in trouble at school, it didn't matter what it was, we were also getting it double at home. We knew to respect adults, and not to lie. We were taught to own up to our mistakes, to do our homework before we went out to play, and to always come in when the street lights came on. We also knew that if our mom called us into lunch or supper, we best come running immediately. Yes, moms would stand out on the porch or in the yard and yell your name, and you knew your mom's voice and you knew you better be home as fast as your legs could carry you if you heard it. This system left little room for mistakes so you better be within earshot. 

On weekends, Saturday mornings were ruled by cartoons, and possibly cereal in front of the tv...if you weren't a messy eater. No kid missed Saturday morning cartoons, and then mid-morning, as cartoons wound down, if you were anywhere between 10 and 18, you watched American Bandstand. It was literally a ritual. After Bandstand though, the tv went off and if you lived in my house, you picked up a dust rag, pulled out the vacuum and you did your weekend room cleaning and housework or if you were a boy (yes, we were a sexist world) you mowed the lawn and did yard work. If your parents were even slightly cool though, they would let you do these chores while listening to the transistor radio (it made the work a little less of a chore.)  After the house and yard passed inspection, the rest of Saturday was for friends, fun, and family. This could include anything from a sleepover to a BBQ to a drive-in movie, and just about anything in between. 

When Sunday arrived, our structured lives and bodies, instinctively knew that it was time to slow down and rest a bit. Our weekdays and Saturday were filled and we were always busy, whether it was necessary stuff or fun stuff, but Sundays were different. On Sundays, no stores, gas stations, or businesses of any kind were open. In fact, the streets were usually empty of traffic except for those going to church or heading over to see other family. Sundays were just a quiet and recuperative day.  

Sunday mornings started with breakfast and then off to church without exception. God gave us Monday through Saturday and we gave Him Sunday. After church, we would pull out the Sunday paper. It was a family event as it would end up spread out all over the living room. It was a really great day if you were the first one to get to the Sunday comics as they always had a section of their own, but if you were too slow, then you might get stuck with the "local news," or the "society page," until the comics were available. Once the paper had been read and any interesting articles discussed, you would help mom in the kitchen. There was always a big Sunday meal that most of us called "dinner" or Sunday dinner. This meal always included roast or chicken or some other special once-a-week fare, with plenty of salads, sides, and desserts. We would eat until we were stuffed, clean the kitchen, and then enjoy our afternoon. 

Sunday afternoons were for relaxing, resting, and recharging. You spent time with family, either in the yard or around the house. Maybe it was a game of checkers with your sister, watching the football game with your dad, playing kickball in the yard with your brother, or finding a nice quiet spot and reading your favorite book (that was usually me). On occasions, there was also the impromptu nap, that would sneak up on you, and leave you confused and wondering what day it was when you awoke. Whatever your choice of activity though, it always felt laid back and easy going. For whatever reason, Sundays just always went at a slower pace. 

Sunday evenings were sandwiches or leftovers and The Wonderful World of Disney, on tv. Afterward, you got everything ready for the next day, got yourself ready for bed, and then you were off to sleep in preparation for Monday, where it started all over again. Wow! Those were some good days. 

I was thinking about all of this in church this morning. Maybe it was because my brain was having trouble focusing as it was flooded with all that I have to do this week and all that I felt I had to do today. I was feeling overwhelmed and so extremely compelled to get it all done, for fear that my lack of completion might cause the world to end or some other equally fantastical and guilt-producing outcome. Even as I thought about it, I knew how ridiculous I was being. I just felt though, as if I was falling behind in a game that I never seem to be able to keep up with. Then suddenly, I was thinking about the past. I was remembering childhood days and just how simple it all seemed back then. Oh, what I wouldn't give.......

Was it really that simple back then, or was that just my child's view of it? Maybe a bit of both. As a kid, we see what our parents want us to see, therefore, if they want us to see the world in a simpler way, we were given simple rules and simple structure, and the harder stuff was withheld from our view. On the other hand, back then, I really do think that the world was simpler. It wasn't so full of information and media giving us conflicting stories and constantly pushing us to do the next bigger and better thing. We weren't constantly tantalized with products and gadgets that we were coerced into believing we couldn't live without, thus causing us to have to work more hours to keep up with our desire for more stuff. Our parents were post WWII kids and they believed that you made money but you didn't spend beyond your needs, you didn't borrow money and if you didn't have the money, you didn't buy the stuff. The money issues of today, credit cards, being upside down on loans, and the constant payments to everyone and his brother, were almost non-existent when I was a kid, thus the money worries that plague our modern world, were not a thing back then. When I was a kid, the world wasn't open 24 hours a day, with chrome and neon beckoning us in. Instead, our world was smaller, our tastes and desires were simpler, our values were more centered and we seemed to understand that you worked hard and played hard Monday through Saturday, but on Sunday, you took that day to pray, relax, recharge, and just plain rest. 

So I came home, and I cleared all of my "have to dos" off my plate for today, and I decided that my only job for today is to rest. Maybe I will watch a movie with the grandkids or maybe I will find that quiet space and curl up with a book. If I am lucky, maybe I will even get an impromptu nap and wake up confused, bewildered, and blessedly rested. Whatever I do today though, it will be with gratitude that once again, God has listened to my heart and guided me right where I need to be and with the knowledge that sometimes, the simplest things in life, are really all we need. 

So until next time.....may you enjoy the simpler things, may you feel gratitude for all you have, and may an impromptu nap also be in your future!