Everydayness

For James

In case you read my blog, James, this is for you. I'm glad I'm going to meet you. I'm glad you are easy to talk to and that you make me laugh and look forward to tomorrow again.

Symbiotic Gold Fish

I have had two gold fish for several months who have a very nice, big and beautifully decorated gold fish bowl. When I bought them I wasn't aware of the fact that "Betty" was handicapped. Somehow she lost her fins on one side. She swims upside down and has a hard time swimming and usually floats to the top. She usually finds a leaf she can lie under so she can rest and breathe without floating to the top but isn't always successful.

Now, "Bob" , her mate, watches out for her. When she is still too long, Bob comes along side her and nudges her so that she moves and swims. Betty has actually laid eggs and Bob makes the bubbles for each little egg then he moves them to hid them under leaves and such. I am moved that Bob takes care of Betty. If she dies or gives up it won't be because Bob didn't care for her. Who knew that fish did such a thing?

I would say, it is a symbiotic relationship because they DO need each other. Betty is kept alive by Bob and Bob doesn't get lonely. Let's just hope that one day, they don't all feed off each other. I'm betting that God's love is even in these creatures.

My cat, who innately knows the fish are pets, drinks the fishy water without ever bothering them or threatening them. She also watches my pet birds but never bothers them either. This is the amazing world of pets in a household of love.

Quote I liked

I would say I longed for a spiritual journey and not a religious assimilation.
http://blogs.salon.com/0001772/

I got this quote from a blog called The Real Live Preacher. I want to expound upon it in my next entry.

The Bank Heist

The Bank Heist
I lived with my grandparents and mother in their house while my father was fighting in WW2. I was born in 1944. My grandmother, "Momie" cried
herself to sleep practically every night she said, although I don't remember hearing her. Dad was in the Pacific theater....the Philippines. I was told he never saw combat yet what he saw when he came in after the battles must have been horrific. The one thing he ever revealed to me about his fears there was about those flame throwers and what it looked like when a human being was burned to a crisp...fried. He was in a place called..?.... (Leyto or something like that) a book was written about that area entitled, "Ghost Soldiers". I'll look for the book and find the place where he was stationed so I can remember it..to remember what Dad must have seen upon arrival there.

As a girl, I remember finding some photos of men with elephantitis (from the islands) where that their testicles were so large they hung down to their feet....they were as big as a large pumpkin. In the book, Ghost Soldiers, it tells in graffic detail about how the Japanese used their machetes (s) to chop off the heads and other body parts of the American prisoner's of war if, when they were marching to another place, they just got too tired or if they couldn't walk because of the bleeding sores and blisters on their feet. Babies were cut and torn from their mother's wombs. Children were impailed on the Japanese bayonets right before the parent's eyes.

There were other much worse astrocities but these were the sights that faced my father as his company marched in to rebuild the areas and/or to clean up. My father, his old friends from home said, was never the same. Gone was the happy go lucky, innocent, young, small town boy.

There was a Japanese interment camp right outside my little hometown where Japanese-American's were encamped until after the war. I used to try to get my family to explain that place to me but they always changed the subject. Another thing that was hush, hush was the existence of the KKK. Once there was a caravan of cars filled with "sheeted" KKK members...lights on in the cars....they drove by my family's house to intimidate us because of mu uncle being on the school board during desegregation. They actually burned a cross in his yard. I was told these KKK people were ignorant, rednecks but you never know.

When he was drafted he was playing professional baseball in the minor league up in Winnepeg, Canada getting ready for the big time...to play for the Baltimore Orioles or the St. Louis Cardinals. I can never remember which one. He came out of the war unscathed. As he was disembarking the ship stateside, he threw his duffle bag over his shoulder and ruined it. His dreams of pro-ball destroyed with one little mistake.

He and Mother had gotten married at home plate up in Winnepeg with Dad's team mates in attendence. Mother had taken a train along with Daddy's father to see Dad play with the proviso that they would not even call to ask if they could marry. Of course, this is exactly what they did. My mother's youngest brother answered the phone and thought it was funny when he told mother, that if she called he was to tell them to go ahead and marry with the family's blessing which was not true.

Soon after their marriage Dad was drafted and sent to the war. In all the papers I've seen in recent years, the dates don't add up. It seems mother was pregnant when she was married. It then made more sense that they rushed all the way up in Canada by train to get married and that it was my paternal grandfather who accompanied her up there.

My parents were beautiful as a couple. She a cheerleader and Dad a star ball player. He was even recruited by the great Bear Bryant when he was coaching at Vanderbuilt but Dad preferred baseball. It's so sad that their dreams were crushed.

So I was born while Dad was overseas and was around 2 years old when he came home after the war. I lived and grew up in my grandparents house. In our little town everone knew everyone else. You could roam the streets in complete safety never having to lock your doors. On very hot nights we left all the doors and windows open trying to catch a cool breeze. I was in the 6th grade before we had airconditioning AND television. Friday nights, everyone we knew came over to watch the fights and have a few bootleg beers.

During the summer months everyone sat out on their screen porches or out in the yard under the giant oaks and pecan trees. The men cranked the ice cream machine after the women made the custard...sometimes with peaches. The school was a half block away so the children all went over to skate with our skates which were held on and kept on with a key. The skates fitted on our shoes. Neighbors came out on Sundays in their Sunday best to visit with one another. Our front porch was always full and lively. Sometimes the men would go inside and play dominoes...their fingers brownish with tobacco stains. The women would play bridge or go for a walk....like a prominade with the easter bonnets or something. :)

Those were the days that a lady wore high heels and gloves just to go downtown to shop. And we always dressed up when we had to go to our doctor.

One day, the news came to my grandfather through the polilce chief, "Lefty Bolen", that our little local bank was going to be robbed by some famous bank robbers. (don't remember who). I had come home from school for lunch. Momie, who could never keep a secret, told me what was about to go down but that I could, under no circumstance go downtown because it could be dangerous plus I was suppose to go back to school after lunch. Naturally I walked the 3 blocks down to the bank to check it out.

Much to my surprise, Lefty Bolen and Mr. Cleiland the deputy police chief, were sitting on the fence in front of the bank along with just about everybody in town. Both sides of the street were crowded just waiting. One can imagine that when the gang drove through town and saw the crowd they just kept going! I for one, was disappointed there was no action although I did get in a bit of trouble for skipping school that afternoon.

Another morning, when I was about 6, I was called to the principle's office. I was to help solve a very serious problem. The bank vault had been accidently closed and locked and was on a timer. There was no way to open it UNLESS my little hand could fit through the bars and turn on that magic switch. Otherwise, the town would have to take a day off. Alas, I could not get my little hand through the bars. I felt I'd let the whole town down. Took me awhile to get over it not to mention the jokes I had to endure.

On Saturdays, Big Pop (my granddad) gave me a dollar. It cost 11cents to buy a ticket to the movie. A quarter could but you a ticket and keep you in refreshments all afternoon and leave some left over to go to the five and dime to buy comic books. Francis the Talking Mule, Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis, Buddy Hacket, love stories with Jeff Chandler and Esther Williams (I wanted to swim and dive like her), Donald O'Conner and Gene Kelly in Singing in the Rain, Ginger Rogers and Fred Astair...and on and on. They were swell days.

These days were during 1951 to about 1953. So much has happened since those innocent days. I haven't felt that warm and fuzzy feeling since about 1956. Then it seemed I was at last beginning to see the world as it was and is.

We listened to the radio.....Fibber Mcgee and Molly, Amos and Andy, The Squeaking Door, baseball games (when there wasn't too much static) and many others. ( I forget the cop show- we always listened to with the sirens blaring out through the speakers) Sometimes we played checkers while we listened. Very often I just fell asleep feeling warm and safe. But those warm, safe says were soon to come to a halt. We would begin to deal with life in all it's realities.

The space age was coming, the Viet Nam war, desegregation, riots of many kinds, assasinations...Camelot coming and going and at the time none of us realized Camelot was fabricated by Mrs. Kennedy. We wanted to believe that the Kennedy's were what they seemed. But they were just "Glittering Images"....false images projected by television for the first time in history.

I had a maid as a young married woman who was the daughter of the maid of my mother and grandmothers. They were paid $3 a day..this was in the early 60's...about 1964-65. In my house, we worked together. We watched the marches and the racial riots together on TV. We watched and wept watching Bull Conner make a fool of himself, we watched and wept as the black people were hosed and dogs were unleashed on them, we watched and wept and became angry at the bombings and the killings.

From the end of the World War in 1945 until the late 50's America enjoyed the illusion of innocence and prosperity. No longer was it enough to promise and give your word of honor. The computer age was on it's way. On it's way was impersonilation, the lure and seduction of new industry to take away the youth in the old home towns...the sons and daughters whose parents had lived there for decades..now being assimilated into the faceless masses of impersonal, cold and harsh "city" life. Succeed, make your fortune and lose your identity. Move away, lose touch, finally, no one knows who your family was and what they did nor does anyone care.

Numbness

I was offline for a few months knowing I had to buy another computer and had to wait until I could afford it. During that time, I began to be aware of the numbness in my soul. Oh, lacking the computer wasn't what caused the numbness; I was made aware of it because I was distracted by surfing the web and chatting with my online friends from around the world.

Is it because of the intensity of the losses I have gone through the last few years? I don't need to list the losses...I don't want to think of them. But how do people go through such awful things. There are far worse things that happen to ordinary people all over the world. How do people go through wars who actually live in the war zones?

On television they showed a woman screaming when she got home from work and found ALL of her children dead. Her husband and shot them and then himself. I can still here her screams even now.

I know this is doomsy but I can't help wanting to know and get over this.

I don't know anyone who is truly content and happy. I don't know anyone who isn't afraid in some deep way. My faith has been severly tried and found wanting. I'm ashamed that I'm numb in a way. The shame comes from my lack of faith.

After I was burglarized last week, an online friend reminded me of God's faithfulness. I had been riddled with wondering why God didn't prevent this invasion. After reading her post, I finally realized that God HAD been watching over me and protecting me. I wasn't hurt. Nothing of importance was taken and minor damaged was done. Even if I lose everything I can still have hope for the future. (I'm reminding myself)

Seems as if I'm always going through some sort of personal angst. It's ridiculous. I simply don't know how to get "un-numbed".

I think part of it is because I have gone through a total transformation concerning what I used to think and believe about FAITH. The realization that I was so naive about religious leaders in my journey with God deeply affects me. How are we so easily manipulated by religious and political propaganda? For me, I want to believe the best of people until proven wrong. I am constantly berieved when the worst is shown...especially about myself and what I am capable of. Is this the dark night of the soul I've heard so much about? If so, there is nothing I can do to come out of it. Only God can bring me out to renewal and resurrection. I need for it to be soon, please.

The Grocery Store

The grocery store on the corner of my block has been there for decades. I like going in there. This morning as I went in I noticed the lady, who has worked there for years, seemed to have drifted off. I asked her what she was thinking. She said she was thinking of her bed and wishing she was in it. I went over to the cooler to get two cold colas. I grabbed them, picked up a couple of other things and went to the register to check out. The lady asked if I had wanted cold cokes. I said, "yes of course". She said she had just placed my two cokes in the cooler; that they were still hot; took them; went back to the cooler and got cold ones that were in the back.

There are no sleepy, tired ladies at the big super markets that give a damn if your cokes are cold or not.

Sons and daughters

Go ahead. Have a son and donate him to the US Governement for future use.
Watch, as your children grow, suffer and die. You guiltily ask God why He
condemned the future human race to such agony, why our blood was tainted
by one couple so much so that the Son of God had to shed His blood for ours
only to receive more horrible earthly sorrow until we received our eternal
reward if we measure up. We might end up in the back lot somewhere only
hoping to see Jesus personally.

Go ahead and have a girl child and donate her to endless heartache and worry
knowing the future holds even more intense terror. Mothers weep when they
embrace their newborns. Love overwhelms us. And we, unsuspecting we, have
no clue of the angst ahead. We think love will be enough; that if we protect them
they will survive and succeed.

Go ahead. Watch a child become terminally ill and die. Ask the unspeakable
questions. Dry up the tears and the questions remain. You don't dare ask
outloud for fear of furture repercussions from HE who rules the earth. In all
Job went through he never cursed God with his mouth and thus was blessed
twice what he had before. Don't you think he would have been happier to
have been able to see his first born brood live and procreate? Cruelty by whom?
The devil?

Christians know there will never be peace on earth until Jesus takes over again. The
jihad is in our souls. What is this senseless war in the earth for? Ha.

I have to come to terms with God's methods. The preachers say that when things
go wrong it isn't God's fault so whose is it-- implying, of course, it's ours. Or they
say, bad things happen to good people; it rains on the righteous and the unrighteouse;
you didn't tithe or pay enough offerings, et cetera.

I'd like to sit down and have a chat with the Father and just listen and be comforted
by truth but I can't hear Him right now or He's in His silence mode.

Healing Relationships

I refused to go to college after graduation from high school. My folks wanted me to go into nursin or teaching which I had absolutely no interest in. I wanted to go to some school of journalism. I had always wanted to be a respected author. I ended up going to the nearest city where I began working at a bank. Both my grandfather's had been bank presidents. I hated it. I met a boy soon after moving to the city. The living was fast. I grew up in a small town so I was taken head-long into the fast lane. The boys I dated knew ...I mean KNEW about sex and I certainly didn't so I ended up pregnant and married at the age of almost 19. In those days when you became pregnant you married. In my case I didn't want to shame my parents furthur so I went ahead with the wedding.

The eve of my wedding I felt a dark dread settle over me that didn't leave me for many, many years. The eve of my wedding my mother tried to kill herself with a kitchen knife. Daddy stopped her. I slept with every sharp object I could find that night. I realized when I was 36 years old that i had had that dark dreadful feeling all those years because of guilt, shame and condemnation; that even though I had asked God's forgiveness I had never felt forgiven or accepted by God after I did what I did. When I was 36, I heard the good news of HOW to receive His forgiveness....by faith; that I was justified by faith and forgiven through Jesus' shed blood upon the cross. It took many years of study to even begin to understand "from the cross to the throne". It took a long time to understand grace and not works lest anyone should boast.

During the flush of "first knowledge" I felt special and pure. I wanted to stay that away thus began the arduous legalistic deadness of trying to stay pure and holy. I confessed continually to each and every thought of deed i deamed sinful. I burned out. I was disappointed in myself thinking God didn't listen to people like me. I wasn't special anymore. All the promises the pastor and elders made about God turned to ashes as my marriage came apart, my children became disillusioned, my only son died of brain cancer at the age of 33. None of us go to church anymore. I am now almost 60 years old. We don't blame God. I guess you could say, we blame ourselves for not living up to all the bible...God's laws. The ones about if you do this, you receive that..such as the healing of my son; the healing of my marriage. How were the prayers of a adulterous woman who snagged my husband more powerful than mine? What the hell happened? There were some who suggested that all was lost because we stopped tithing! That because I began to express disagreement with the church leaders I was being punished; that that was why I lost God's favor. I'm still in love with our Father but I'm tired still and have to wish at all to return to any church.

Having said all of that, my subject for the day concerns walking in love with memebers of my family...my two sisters and my brother, my two old aunts and my mother. The two rich old aunts took over the rulership of the family after my staid, stoic grandmother died. Then as my siblings grew up they began to exhibit the controlling spirit that lead my aunts. One of the sisters, after marrying and leaving our small town began attending and AOG church. She became and still is the most legalistic person in our family and her attitude permeates everyone. During the breakup of my marriage, the illness and death of my son, I had to look at her judgemental, hard face and just cry inside. Somehow, in her mind, everything was my fault and I deserved what I got. Then I woke up one day realizing she was the problem, not me. I couldn't understand it until I remembered how mother, in her mental illness how slandered and lied about me...her own daughter and my sister had heard it for years and hated me for the things my mother said. My sister was joined at the hip with mother...clinged to her and was very possesive of her, wanting her all to herself. This sister made sure that I pushed outside as she took up mother's cause because I refused to bow to mother's sick controlling mental illness. I refused to bow to my sister's same spirit and still do.

But I began to speak loving things to her throught the medium of this computer...through email and boy did things start being revealed. It's the hardest thing I have ever had to do in this area of family relationship. I wanted to blast her and the other sister and my brother for their hypocrisy, pride and cruelty but God showed me the better way.....His way to get through to them. Love. Healing has begun but it's not over yet. The one thing they still don't get is how much they hurt me and my children and OH how in my flesh I would love to just lay it all out there.

As they were judging me, it all came out about my brother, who was a pastor and had been in adultery and pornography. My younger sister "came out" to me about being gay and all while they were being so harsh with me and my family! Still, they are being self-righteous. I'm appalled that they don't get it or admit it.

Continued later: