Love Never Dies

Posted: March 6, 2019 in Uncategorized
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My grand daughter called upon me for advice. So here it is…Continue to be you. Don’t let anyone…including your mother cause doubt in the direction you’ve chosen. You’re a smart girl. She raised you to be smart, tough and confident. You know what you need, she will guide, but remember, she’s over-protective. On earth, our abilities often are muddled by great emotion and connection. We are best at speaking to those who are emotion-neutral. You’ve got this kiddo.

I didn’t get to meet my Grand daughter on earth, but I see her everyday, persevering in the life she chose. I missed her birth. Unfortunately, I passed forward five months before her grand entrance on earth. She is just one of my eight grand children from my last life. Oh, Georgie… I love my furry grandchildren, too.

A lot of pain followed me leaving. I’m sorry I had to go. I want my children to know that they’ve made me proud. It’s a little crazy where I am. You think the unknown is scary? Try dealing with full disclosure. You all grown and raising those beautiful children makes for a daily party and brag fest with the millions of other souls here. As you probably know, me and my sister are the loudest. I love you! Enjoy the life you live. I will see you all again one day!

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. The name is as relevant as the person who named it and thus has very little consequence. A rose and its classification as a flower are titles given by the least of the world’s natural entities… human. It’s beauty is ranked in the eye of the individual beholder. There are humans who hate flowers and are disgusted by their presence, just as there are those who find fecal matter the end-all-and-be-all of life. I find myself arguing for the right of my perception to be valid rather than the legitimacy of my view point, more and more these days. The art of semantics. I should write that book. Perhaps after I finish the Waking Up Vampire series. The art of Semantics’ sub-title: Why people live by definition rather than consequence. or.. Why people need to blame a divine entity for their decisions when in reality it is where their consciousness leads them. I’m not exempt from the inconsistency of irrational thought. In fact, I spend a lot of time meditating on this intriguing phenomenon, so much that I can announce, in the moment before a crazy irrational, unreasonable tirade is about to take over my, normally pleasant (Yes. You can laugh) laid back temperament that I’m about to explode. I’m going to write more about this on my blog… after I finish writing/editing the last 200 plus pages of Waking Up Vampire.. in the next two weeks. To tide you over, be my guest and read Twisted Fate, by Mel Evers. A review would be wonderful and truly kiss-your-feet appreciated. Peace

I’m not the only one that sees the vile twinkle in your eye

She doesn’t see it

Blinded by the idea of who you are

Flaunt your past like fashionable attire

A dance of dazzling lies enchants her to the con

Pity is the lure that keeps her attention

I’ve let it go on for too long

That is on me

But now I’m coming for you

I’ll give you the time to get away from her

That’s what I want

Blame me for breaking her heart

that’s okay

Fixing it is part one

Restoring our home as a sanctuary is part two

I know it will take time to undo the toxic spell you’ve groomed into her bones

But that is a Mother’s job and I’ve done it before

Once she is clear of your selfish spree

Forever more the something ugly in your eye

will be me

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m drowning in a sea of other people’s excuses. My nose is above water. I can’t make a sound. My body is moving but I’m not sure if I’m going anywhere because the sky above me changes on its own. If I look down, I will suffocate. Emotional pain has turned physical. My feet cycle around and around and my arms flutter like an injured bird. I try to tread water, but it is pointless. I want to stop. Let go. Drift below the surface with my eyes wide open and I want to scream. That’s not me.

So, what am I to do?

The only way to escape is to let the current take me, to let my body drift until I hit a sand bar where I can rest my overtaxed muscles and more importantly my waning thoughts. I’d lay on my back and stop. Stop thinking. Stop believing I could get on top of it all. Stop the beating of my heart for just a few moments. Hoping that deep pain will subside with it.

The truth is…it will pass and I will wade back into the waves as the small crests grow and the white foam swells and the power of the current sucks me in again. And as always, I will let go and let my body find that place of rest…

*Write about a moment in childhood when you suddenly caught a glimpse of the adult world.

(When my mom had cancer)

-she wore beautiful colorful bandanas
-she was so strong even when weak

She walked through the front door… For the first time in what felt like forever, I got to see her. The image of her weakness did not hide the strength hidden within her. The battle scars were out to show the world what she had endured and conquered. She wore the colorful bandana that covered what once sprouted thick dark brown locks and her body was now frail though just a year before, she could carry a child in each arm with one more pulling at her leg.
Standing on the carpeted blue steps just 10 feet away from the door, my ignorant seven year old legs shook. Was it excitement? Was it pain? Maybe they were eager to run up to her so I could hug her and never let go. What was stopping me? Frozen in my own mind, I could only think of how happy I was to see her. Though I was not told, maybe I knew deep down that what was only three days in the hospital, was almost a lifetime of loss. Almost a year of staying at my cousins house on and off and being taken care of by my dad yet nothing ever occurred to me farther than “mommy is sick.” Almost a year of doctors’ appointments and chemotherapy.
The welcome home banner above my head, decorated by family as what we treated as an art project, represented what was rather than what could have been. Pictures of rainbows, colorful houses and happy stick figures covered the grateful banner. The representation of returning strength and a future with her, rather than without. A future full of hope rather than loss of the most important woman in my life. The woman that took care of me when I was hurt or sick. The one that refused to leave my side when I needed her. That moment is drilled into my mind, will never be just a memory, but a reminder of what I have and what matters. A memory that drives me to hold on to what I have for as long as I can and to not take anyone for granted. A memory that once in a while shows itself to remind me of the moments that could have been lost if things would have been different.
I jump off the stairs and run to her. I have never let go since.

4/16/18

You awoke with anger, affection and blinding fear. You waged a battle between right and wrong as others tried to banish your soul. You cry in the shadows and smile under the sun. You do your best to balance my mind even through times of pain. The ache you encompass me in is at times confusing. It feels good or it renders me helpless. 

When I lash out, you bind my wrists and gag my mouth, but nothing can stop the tears from falling. The power you wield banishes the fury of my roar, muffles the sounds of ecstasy. two sounds which expose my weaknesses. 

Love, you know what I need even when I don’t. The fight between us is everlasting, raw and sometimes bloody. You’ve effectively groomed my rage, testing me, prodding my tender thoughts pushing my soul to experience raw life. 

During my stint in dire straits you forced me to fight against who I thought I was to become who I was supposed to be. Not an easy task when all I saw was a target placed over my heart. People not seeing inside was why I’d built the wall in the first place. In one second, in one diagnosis you slammed through my barriers and forced me to open. To ask for help and let others see all my vulnerabilities. I cowered at first. Rolled up into a ball like a fetus in my mother’s womb. Which is ironic since life had pushed me back to that place where I was helpless without others. Would have most likely died without their assistance.

Epiphany. Thank you, my love for showing me that you exist both inside and out. That you are more than the heart within me. You are an extension of those willing to become a part of me. To accept me. To take my hand and offer their strength when I feel I have none. 

Love is me returning the nurture, the power, the giving, the healing without expectation. To carry those in need to a safe place in their own hearts. Like me, you see it from where you stand. The journey across the tumultuous line is long but not far. I know. 

 

Sincerely,

M.E.

Hi. Welcome to four deaths and a fire. Not a chill place for my mind to be, but oh hell, we all have those moments. I am happy. The choices I’ve made in the past few years have helped with anger and grief. The last three months have fast forwarded my life progress by light years. My husband will argue that light years is a physical distance and not a measure in time, but I’m an author so… it’s okay.

Anyhow, It started with a request and ended with a death. Accurate summary. Doesn’t everything profound start with something simple? A decision you make now can change your life forever tomorrow. For some, Life begins.

Like childbirth or slamming your funny-bone (not everyone experiences childbirth), all beginnings are painful, out of our control and wrought with fear.  Yet somehow we grow into adults. Oh. I should mention. I was never child. By the time I became aware of living, my mind was thrust into a world of lies and deceit wrapped in the arms of an Italian mother. A mommy lifeline. Also known as a confusing long tether that, on occasion, left me adrift, swimming through confusion. Or, the cord was wrapped so tightly around my body it made it impossible to move or grow.

My mom was strong/weak. Powerful in her love for us children. Weak because she loved him, too. Her love for him became her downfall. She died. Do I blame him? Yes and no. Why, because I know right from wrong. He was the epitome of wrong. My mom died Twenty-one years ago. He died Three months ago. Funny thing… I cried as his life faded to nothing before my eyes. Cried like I did for my mom when she took her last breath.

Isn’t that interesting?

One day, after playing with my niece, my brother came to me with daunting news and a request. Dad was very sick and in the hospital and he wanted to see his children. He wanted to ask for forgiveness for being indifferent most of our lives. Hmmm. I’d already had closure about ten years ago. He came back into my life, against my personal wishes, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Another story. I’m good. Not the point. The moral of that story is you don’t deserve attention from him if your not dying anymore.

At that time, I gave him two rules of our relationship. One, he had to work at being a father. Two, if he left, that was it. He left. Guess I was wrong. That wasn’t it. When he called for us, I went. I literally said I forgave him during my first visit. He cried. By my next visit, he was back to being the angry, I hate the world man, that afterward claimed that oh, that’s all in the past, and I don’t wish people harm. My inner child smirked. I told him he really had to let go of his rage. On my third or fourth visit, I was alone with him and we had a two hour conversation in which he confessed some disturbing truths about himself. I believe it was the first time we ever had an honest conversation. Past chats included me telling him to leave at two different times, once when I was thirteen and another, I think I was seventeen, and on other occasions asking “who is she?”.

I’m pretty sure, as his illness progressed, the four of us visited every single day. We fought with the doctors on numerous occasions. We were losing another parent, and the tough years before didn’t matter.

He passed on April 9th 2018 as we stood around his bed. We sought comfort in each other and that was beautiful. Despite everything he did to tear us apart, the moment he took his last breath, we became a stronger healthier family.

Which is very fortunate… My father may have moved on, but his past is alive and well and we have been fighting to restore our legacy ever since. Crazy woman, poison ivy, a platoon of cats won’t stop us from achieving our goal. Putting to rest our past.