The Sum of All Parts

I find that I am a much stronger person now than I have ever been and ever thought I could be.  When I look back at my life, it would be remis of me to not tell my readers some of my back story.  I had been married to a man whom I believed to be the love of my life.  He got cancer and died.  That is shown in the “About me” in this blog.  Since then, I have also gone on to find the man I consider to be my eternal love-David.  My first several blogs focused on how I felt after Patrick’s death but let’s go back a bit.

I was the only living child of middle-aged parents.  Sixty-three years ago, late pregnancies were not as common.  Two days after my birth, my mother turned 40.  My father was 42 at my birth.  It should be noted that I was also the 7th attempt to have a child.  Prior to my entrance into the world, adoption and foster parenting were also tried to no avail.  And after my birth, there was a final attempt which ended in still birth.  For some reason I think it was a girl, but I'm not sure.  My mother went to the hospital and came back alone.  We never talked about it again.  Have you ever had the feeling that something was wrong, but you just couldn't put your finger on it?  That's how I felt most the years I was living with them.  I was extremely sheltered,  not allowed to stay home alone until I was in the 10th grade.  Until that time, I along with our poodle were dragged along every time they went out.  I often asked why I couldn’t just stay at home with the dog and was told I was not trustworthy enough to stay alone.  Oddly, they felt good enough to leave me and the dog in the car even in unsavory areas of town.  I guess the dog was supposed to be my protection.  There were many times I remember hunkering down on the floor of the backseat covered up with a coat or blanket to hide.  I was terrified.  My parents would fuss when they got back and call me silly.  Today, the police probably would have been called for both me and the dog.  But at that time, no one gave it a second thought.  To me,  it was scary.  But it also made me feel like it was just another way I disappointed them-  they didn’t trust me enough to stay home.  As I got older, I was not allowed to participate in team sports, go to camps, get a summer job, or babysit.  Anything that would give me independence was generally not allowed.  This fostered a feeling of  smallness and insignificance in me.  Try as I might, I just never felt I was enough.  Now, don’t get me wrong, my parents were good people.  They worked hard.  My mother volunteered at church and at my schools.  I really didn’t want for anything.  Both loved me.  Still, I walked a very thin line knowing that anytime, I could anger my mother and must endure verbal tirades and/or spankings.  It wasn’t until much later in my life that I realized I had my own version of don’t ask/don’t tell.  When I was a senior, I was elected Science Club President.  This honor also put me on Student Council.  I was so excited.  I went running in to tell my mom, thinking she would be so proud of me.  I had done something important.  Upon hearing my news, she simply asked, did you get your homecoming pictures.  I want to see those.  No congratulations, no I’m proud of you, we never spoke of it.  There was the wall, and I wasn’t allowed past it. 

When I went to college, I lived at home for the most part.  To do this, I was told I would go to Texas A & M.  There was no need for me to apply anywhere else.  If I didn’t get in there, I guess I was expected to get a job.  My dad retired the fall of my sophomore year and I was moved back into their home.   I did get an apartment but that was only for my last semester of my senior year.  But, other than that, I lived at home.  Under their watchful eyes.  I wanted out so bad I would have done anything.  Enter my knight in shining armor-Patrick. 

Our relationship began oddly.  He managed to secretly get me moved to the front of the history class, next to him.  For me it was good because I wanted to hear everything.  Each afternoon, he would follow me to my car.  He didn’t say a word.  Just followed.  It took several weeks, but eventually he gathered the strength to talk to  me.  And finally, asked me out.  We dated for 3 years and eventually in the fall of  1979, he asked me to marry him.  I said yes.  There were a couple of reasons I did this.  First, I did love him and couldn’t imagine my life without him.  There were times that he would go out with other girls.  And I did as well but this was done only when we were “seeing other people”.   This rule only applied to me.  When we were exclusive, he would see other at any time and expected me to stay at home.  But, despite all his flaws-I loved him.  Second, I was raised believing that sex was for the bonds of marriage only.  I had lost my virginity to this man and in my mind, I was soiled goods and needed to marry him to make things right-save my soul.  And, finally, I wanted out.  I wanted freedom.  I wanted the kind of relationship my friends had with their parents normal.  Needing to spread my wings grew with each passing day.  And each morning I got out of bed, had my wings clipped so I could only fly in circles at home. 

Our engagement proved challenging.  Not only did I have to deal with financial schisms, but religious as well.  Patrick was Roman Catholic, and I was an Episcopalian.  When we broke the news to Patrick’s family, both of his aunts asked me when I was converting.  I had never really thought about it or how important my religion was to me, but I was a cradle Episcopalian.  My parents had been active in our church.  It was what I knew.  However, I was also the product of the Catholic School System having to go to Mass every Friday.  The services were very similar so I figured well what was the harm, so I told them I would.  Now for a marriage to be recognized in the Catholic church, you had to be married there.  In 1980, marriages outside the Church were not considered legal for the Church.  So, I agree to be married in the Catholic Church.  I figured this would not be a big deal.  Well, I was wrong- my mother went ballistic.  It was awful.  I finally got her settled down.  But I was walking a very thin line.  Patrick’s mother wanted a full mass at the ceremony.  And I knew that my mother would NOT be on board with this.  I set my foot down.  Patrick sided with his mother in a conversation, he told me that if I did not give, then maybe we needed to call of the engagement.  I was crushed.  But I just couldn’t give on this point.  To make a long story short, eventually I came up with a compromise.  I offered a full mass at the Rehearsal and the Wedding liturgy only for the Big Day.  Between Patrick and I both, we managed to convince both sets  of parents, that this was a good idea. 

By now you are thinking, all weddings have their issues, however, this one event had so many red flags that I simply refused to see.  These flags would rare their ugly head time after time.  The old saying, “A son is your son until he takes a wife” simply didn’t exist for the Conner family.  Patrick was so enmeshed in his home especially with his grandmother.  I simply had no chanced.  We lived within a few blocks of his parents.  Ate meals with them most nights.  And, when I became pregnant with our first child, Patrick was afraid to tell his parents.  So, I had to go over there alone and tell them.  His mother was slightly receptive of the idea.  His father not so much.  But, as I told him, I told him I knew he was not happy about it, but he needed to get over it and not say anything negative to Patrick.  And, as I emphasized there was nothing, we could do about it as the Catholic Church did not believe in abortion.  So, like it or not, he just needed to be supportive.  Eventually, they were somewhat on board.  I had that line I was not going to cross.  And I knew if our marriage stood a chance, I had to keep working on compromise.  This was a lot easier said than done.  Over the course of our marriage, I had to constantly battle for Patrick’s attention.  He was Bob and Marie’s son first and our growing little family took a back seat.  His life was his parents and the bus company they were running.  If I disagreed with these people I was on my own.  Patrick was always going to side with his parents.  My response was to form a very strong bond with my children.  In doing this, I became immensely aware of the fact that should I decide to bolt, they would try to take my children.  No, this was never directly said to me, but when you are introduced to their friends as the judge, or the divorce attorney, you begin to read between the lines.  By now I was aware, I could live without Patrick, but I could never live without Ashley and JR.  They were and will always be my world.  I was willing to walk this thin until one day when my precious little girl asked Patrick’s mother if she could have an Easter Party.  She was so excited when she told us on the way home.  At that time, Bob and Marie were living in a small office building they had moved to the bus parking lot.  My concern was two-fold.  One, we had not been asked if this was okay.  As a grandmother of 4 precious and amazing children, there isn’t a lot I won’t do for them.  However, I always defer to Mom and Dad for permission to do things.  And, secondly and most important, they wanted to have a group of kindergarten children to their “home” in bus parking lot on the busiest day of the week.  This was simply a matter of children’s safety.  Patrick agreed with me.  So, the following day, at lunch Patrick began to explain to his parents that this was not going to happen, and his mother exploded.  Not at him, but at me.  I was told that I never did anything they wanted.  She was so angry, her voice got louder and louder.  I  sat calmly waiting for Patrick to take up for me.  We had agreed that this was not a good idea.  But he did nothing.  He just sat there.  His mother finally yelled that I was a “f..ing” terrible mother.  That was it.  I quietly stood up.  Gathered my purse and simply walked out of the restaurant.  Thinking that Patrick would follow me out, I began to walk the 6 long blocks back to the office.  Patrick never joined me; I was on my own.  This gave me a lot of time to think.  I had been working at the company with the family so I could also take care of the children.  I had been the whipping boy and scapegoat of many things during that time.   I worked on bankruptcy reports with a broken arm upon a return from a vacation.  Typing with a broken arm is next to impossible.  I kept being told to hurry up.  I had key rings full of keys thrown at me because I had taken aa deposit to the bank without asking if my mother-in-law needed anything.  So, during that walk, I made peace with the fact I was not happy, and I didn’t deserve to be treated like this.  So, once I got to the office, I got in my car and as I closed the door, Patrick and his parents drove up.  Getting out of the car, he came over to me and asked where I was going.  “Home”.  He couldn’t understand why.  I was hurt, disappointed, and moreover angry.  Angry at him, angry at Bob and Marie, but most of all, angry at myself.  I let myself get put in this situation.  That day, I decided that I would go back to teaching.  I completed my special education certification at night and during the summer.  I don’t think Patrick ever thought I was going to go through with the plan.  And, when I did, he was furious.  I was “abandoning’ him.  No, I wasn’t abandoning him.  To abandon someone, you must be part of something, which I was not.  Plus, we had two children with no insurance, and I was not being paid.  This would be a win-win for the family.  Education offered a small salary and pseudo good health insurance.  I pushed forward with my plan.

I’m going to let this chapter of my life sink in for my readers.  Through all of this, I began to realize, I was strong, I was smart, I was not just a pretty face.  I was worthy of love, honor, and respect.  Something which I was often denied.  Today as I look back at my life, I am a much stronger person than I ever had imagined.  Living life as I feel God wants me to live, strengthens me and gives me a new and renewed purpose.  Indeed, I have become a sum of my parts.  I am still the same person my parents raised.  Those limits which were put on me, shaped how I reacted not just to my children but all children.  As a mother I was able to give my children growing room to stretch their wings and explore the world without hovering.  As an educator, I explained that the most valuable gift I could give them was an education.  Explaining that education for me was my escape pod from things I didn’t like.  I went on to pursue not one but two master’s degrees and become a leader on every campus I worked.  After Patrick’s death, I did try to run his business.  But truth be told, it was never my dream and there was just way too much bad blood there for me to give it the 100% it needed.  I loved working with kids.  It was in my blood.  When children make mistakes, that’s normal.  But, when adults make ridiculous mistakes, I have very little patience.  So, I planned to sell the company.  I moved to Austin, sold most of my worldly possessions and returned to education.   It’s been a hard road, full of loss, but I have no regrets.  Through this journey I can see how everything has shaped me into who and what I am.  I am not just a strong and independent woman.  I am a survivor. 

 

 

 

 

Into Infinity and Beyond

 

Having a sharp tongue and a wicked dry sense of humor has been a saving grace for me.  It is my coping mechanism which I employ like a samurai sword especially when I’m in a fight or flight situation.  However, over the years my sarcasm and cynicism has been toned down a great deal.  In the past,  I always prepared for the worst-case scenario and when it turned out better, I celebrated gladly.  A pleasant surprise……  To me that was easier than having my hopes trashed. 

 But I have spent countless hours in trainings about setting high expectations.  In part, I totally agree with this theory.  However, the expectation needs to be looked at individually not holistically.  Not everyone’s high expectation is the same.  So, let’s debunk one of the common motivational sayings of our times. 

“Aim for the moon and even if you miss you land among the stars” comes to mind.  That seems like a beautiful thought.  But let’s think about it. 

Space is a dark and dangerous place, full of unknows.  I learned that from Star Wars, The Mandalorian, Lost in Space, and the list goes on and on.  Additionally, after living in the Houston area near NASA, I was daily made aware of the possible dangers out in the unknown.  Ask anyone, space can be downright scary.  And stars, those are simply burning gas balls.  No one ever explores stars.  They explore planets, moons, asteroids, but never suns (stars).  So, although those are very pretty words, they are best saved for those who don’t dissect sayings like me.  

Now that I have set the stage, let me tell you a tale.  Some of my relatives are going to find this offensive.  So, I apologize ahead of time.  I am from a long line of ultra conservative military people.  I was raised believing that divorce was wrong (I would go to Hell), all Democrats were evil to the core, and although women could vote, they needed to vote the same way as their husband.  Yes, most of my relatives are Republicans.  And I generally always voted Republican.  I was and remain a John McCain fan. 

Now, that is not to say that I was not greatly surprised by the 2016 election outcome.  It was the first time in my life, I did not watch the election results on television.  I didn’t vote.  As we had recently moved, I asked David to fill out the cards and return them for me.  But, because the powers that be could not read one of the digits on my registration, it was kicked back, and as there was not enough time to redo my application, I missed the window.  This was a God send for me.  I had no idea who to vote for when push came to shove.  It was puzzling to me that in a country as big as ours these were the best candidates we could find.  And, as far as I was concerned, neither deserved nor did I feel was qualified to be president.  So, as I lay down on election eve to go to sleep, Hilary Clinton was in the lead.  In my mind by this time, it was what it was. 

Upon waking, I rolled over, gazed lovingly into David’s eyes, and sleepily said, “So, Hilary is our president.” 

Whisking they hair from my face, he said calmly, “No, Trump is.”

This jolted me up faster than any alarm I ever had. “WHAT?”  I was in utter shock.  Then I figured, well there must have been many people like me who couldn’t decide and just picked a name.  But how???? Hilary had such a lead.  I got up in a daze, dressed and went to work.

I remember walking into the teacher’s lounge.  Here sat a group of educated women and men crying.  Yes, physical tears.  Being the counselor  I am, I stopped and explained our governmental system to them (my original teaching fields were history and government).  I went into grave detail about checks and balances and the wonders of the two-party system and the workings of the electoral college.  I explained that our forefathers were brilliant in that they built our country to withstand bad presidents.  So, I felt sure that if our great country survived Ulysses S. Grant we could survive Donald J. Trump.  In fact, I even espoused the “Shoot for the Moon” saying.  I was willing to give the man a chance.  Little did I know we would land in a burning gaseous ball of flames. 

 As many (most) of my relatives have and many still are serving in the military, I believed that the president of our country was the commander in chief.  I pictured him sitting behind a desk with a red phone (the old timey kind) to his right, a back of computer screens around him and a mass of papers in front of him.  And, yes, try as I might it was generally a man.  Although, I do believe a woman is probably more capable, but things as they are, it was always a man.  The thought of the leader of the free world “tweeting” was ridiculous to me.  I figured it would stop after the election.  But no, that was not the case.

I don’t know about you, but when I must spend an extended time on the toilet, I take my phone with me.  There I play my games and catch up on Facebook.  When I was working, I always took my phone with me, so this was my break.  As Potus began tweeting regularly I wondered about a couple of things.  First, does he have a gastric issue that would give him this much toilet time to tweet.  Maybe it was time for a colonoscopy.  Did he need to call his insurance company to see who would take the president insurance plan?  Did he have an HMO or a PPO?  In any case, I knew his insurance was a damned sight better than mine.  Maybe he couldn’t find the time.  No wait, he has his phone with him, and he can always mute the phone in the event of flatulence.  Secondly, was he really tweeting all this gibberish?  Some of them sounded like the ramblings of a prepubescent child.  Is Baron getting a hold of the Don’s phone and Potus was just too busy to notice?  After all, he is the Leader of the Free World.  And finally, some of the tweets bordered on what I would consider cyber bullying.  All of these, in my mind, tarnished the image of the office of President.  I even thought we needed a member of the Secret Service  standing outside the Presidential Potty who would take the President’s phone and give him a handheld gaming device with no internet access.  Can’t you just imagine it? 

“Mr. President, I need your phone.”

“No!  I’m the President, I will do what I want.”

“Now, Mr. President, we have talked about this.  You know you get carried away and don’t think before you tweet.”

“No!  Nancy Pelosi (or whomever) was mean to me.  She/He didn’t do what I want.”

“I hear what you are saying.  You don’t like him/her.  You don’t have to like them, but you have to be kind and get along.”

“No!  I’m not giving you my phone.  I pay for it.”

“Well, sir technically, the citizens are paying for your phone.  Look, I have a Gameboy.  It has Space Invaders.  You can be the hero and keep them from invading the world.”

“Well maybe, ok.”  And he begrudgingly hands over his phone and takes the Gameboy.  Crisis adverted. 

Over the next four years, there were many more thing which did not sit well with me.  The handling of DACA for one.  I have been in our educational system for now over 30 years.  I can’t get Juan from Alvin out of my mine.  Juan could be a handful.  But he was trying to get his life together.  He desperately wanted to join the military.  Problem was he was not a citizen.  When he was 4 years old, the father came into our country illegally with his son and two daughters ages 2 and 6 months.  Can you image a father alone with 3 small children crossing the Rio Grand or being smuggled in by a coyote?  It must have been not just difficult but terrifying.  He could have just abandoned them or left them children with relatives, but he didn’t he brought them.  He brought them for a better life.  All three were educated in the US.  Juan, like I said, was difficult.  The girls were exceptional students.  Very sweet, kind and very hard workers.  When it came time to go to college, they couldn’t qualify for financial aid etc.  They weren’t citizens.  After school they took minimal jobs for which they were well overqualified.  The cycle couldn’t be broken. It made me so sad.  When I moved to Austin and Widen, I met many more families who were in similar situations.  It hurt my soul.  My working with these families opened my eyes.  They were generally amazing people.  Many would bring me things just because I showed that I cared.  I loved their babies.  I learned so much about their lives, their culture, and their struggles in those years.  They shared stories with me.  For example, the student who was hard of hearing because the parent was caught at the border and put in a “containment” area for several weeks.  The child got ill.  It was cold, they didn’t have enough blankets for her.  The result was hearing loss for the child due to a severe ear infection that went untreated.  For me, DACA seemed fair. These kids had been here all their lives, they were Americans.  I felt Trump’s policies were grossly unfair to these people.  Don’t get me wrong, if a person is committing a high crime, not misdemeanors, then, deportation should be considered.  If we did something wrong in another country, would not the same thing happen to us?    

Over the course of the next four years, many things caused me concern from global warning to the bashing of John McCain, to COVID “The China Virus”.  I watched as one after the other people were fired due to having different ideas than Mr. Trump.  It seemed so childish to me.  I’m not going to play with you because you won’t let me win.  I believe the purpose of a cabinet and advisors is to do just that advise.  To help the president see all sides of a situation, not just be yes men/women. 

When election time came around, Trump bombarded us with comments like “Sleepy Joe”, “Fake News”, and “China Virus”.  One of the main tenants I live by is that it is no one’s business who gets my vote.  That is between me and God.  However, I am breaking this rule today.  I am still a card-carrying Republican, but I could not in my heart vote for Trump.  From my point in life, I was no better off than I was under Obama.  My insurance still stinks.  I pay into social security but will get a reduced amount as I receive (as they said at the social security administration) an amazing retirement.  I didn’t qualify for Patrick’s social security because of this as well.  Trust me TRS is subsistence at best.  I’m just thankful that I have a part time job to supplement it.  Yes, I voted for Biden not because I felt he could do the job.  Yes, I feel he is a good man and I think he is trying to bring the pendulum back to the middle.  But also, I had no other choice.  Obie Wan was not running.  And I just didn’t think I could handle four more years of Trump.  As I write this, I just feel several of my relatives crossing me off their Christmas Card list.  To them I say, this is my freedom of speech.  I have kept my mouth shut as I have rolled my eyes at some posts.  Martha Turner taught me that if I couldn’t say something nice not to say anything at all.  And, also, opinions are like assholes, everyone has them. 

 You see, I have not used any kind of weapon other than words.  I’ve sent no one to the hospital, crushed no one, exposed no one to COVID via a super spreader event.  I’ve expressed my opinion.  I never said I was right and you are wrong,  All I did was express my opinion.  You can choose to read it or not.  Cross me off your card list or not.  It matters little to me. 

 You may be asking yourself; how did we go from cynicism and motivational sayings with pretty words.  Simple……In my opinion we have been floating around in the danger of space for far too long.  It’s time we put on our big boy/girl/neutral panties and for once looked at our fellow earth mates and tried to do the right thing.  If you wouldn’t want to be treated as a lesser human don’t treat others that way.  When we peel off our skin, all of us look the same underneath.  Were people pure and simple.  No one is greater or lesser than another simply because of where we live or the way we look, act, dress, talk etc.  On this eve of this new chapter in our lives as Joe Biden and Kamala Harris begin the work the citizens have entrusted them to do, let’s all just take a deep breath, count our many blessings, and know that as a country we can survive.   And in the words of Tangina from Poltergeist said, "Carole Ann come into the light".

 

 

9 Years Later

It's a cold day in Austin.  It shouldn't last long as the sun has shown its beautiful face.  It's been a long time since I have blogged, but a friend suggested that I might want to start journaling again.  Life has a funny way of pointing us in a certain direction.  So, as we wave goodbye to the 2010 decade and welcome in the 2021.  I thought I would briefly bring you up to speed with my life.  

Nine years ago, I moved to Austin at the request of my daughter.  Well actually,  I was pretty much dragged.  I sold everything I owned minus just a few of my favorite belongings and moved to a strange town.  And for me it was strange.  As a card-carrying maroon bleeding Aggie, I detested Austin.  It was too liberal, the school was the center of town, the freeways to me were much scarier than Houston even though the town is smaller.  All in all, it lives up to its reputation of being weird.  But here I was in an apartment sitting among boxes and wondering if I had indeed lost my mind.

For the next 5 years I was a full-time counselor in an elementary school with a population that was 95% Latino, 4% African American and 1% other.  I fit into the other category.  My first day, I literally had my feet knocked out from under me by a PreKinder student who was not happy to be at school.  For all those years in High School, I never was knocked off my feet.  This was a first.  But I learned to love my babies and developed a whole new appreciation for those who risk everything to come to our country.  That year brought a lot of firsts.  My first time to be a mascot.  I was Willie the Wildcat. It’s terribly hot in those costumes.   My first traffic ticket-  The officer told me, “Welcome to Austin,”  when he handed me the ticket.  Next came my first grandchild- Easton. This child continues to be one of the loves of my life.  I bought my first house without help and that was closely followed by a car that I bought on my own.  And in between all of this, I met my soul mate.  David was amazing.  We had so much in common.  He loved science fiction, musicals, going to the movies, going to church, talking through our issues, and traveling.  And, he had the most amazing sense of humor.  I soon grew to adore and love this man.  Every weekend, I would wear out the roads between Austin and Salado.  And on his days off, he would come to Austin.  Soon he just never left.  David maintained his job at the VA Hospital in Temple commuting to and from five days a week.  I couldn’t have been happier.  Then, one night “Well, I think so.  But I know I have some Tylenol.” 

“No, it has to be aspirin.  And call 911 I think I’m having a heart attack.”

Yet another first.  The first time I had been this scared in a long time.  While in the ER, David coded not once, but twice.  The second time, the doctor asked me to call the code.  David had always told me he did not want any heroics.  So, I said yes.  The doctor walked out then came immediately back in and said, “You aren’t going to believe this but he’s back.”  This began a month-long hospital stay.  While he was in the hospital, I realized that our house was not recovery friendly.  David’s ability to walk was greatly diminished and the study was upstairs.  The real estate market in Austin was hot, so I sold my house and moved to the suburbs just in time to celebrate David’s 60^th birthday. 

It was a struggle, but he was alive.  And I was so thankful.  We had numerous challenges over the next 4 years.  We had our challenges.  David was stubborn and probably a bit scared and would wait until he was almost ready to go to the hospital to seek medical help.  We experienced the loss of loved ones and the loss of friends.  We were there for each other and that was all that mattered.  But we still lived life to the fullest.  We celebrated holidays.  We traveled.  We went to Church.  We embraced each day as if it were our last.  He witnessed the birth of 2 more of my grandchildren and was anxiously awaiting the arrival of the 4^th.  I was so fortunate that he loved my kids like his own and my grandkids were his grandkids.  In fact, once while we were in Oklahoma, Easton had a fall and was rushed to the hospital not once, but twice.  The following morning, he woke up and said we are headed home.  He was on the phone with my daughter who kept telling him it was not necessary for us to come back.  He got very indignant and told her that Easton was his grandson, and he was coming home.  Wow!  He was invested.  We were all a family.  When we began keeping JR’s daughter Chloe, he quickly began to bond with her.  In fact, after listening to me tease David about being pokey, she looked over at him, laughed and said, “Popo.”.  And the name stuck.  As I write this, Ashley is roughly 9 days away from delivering Miss Tylar Graham.  David was so excited about this little girl.  But he will only be able to see her from far away.  On Monday, November 2, I had gone to pick up Chloe for “our date with the Princess.”  Upon return, I found him unresponsive.  911 was called and he was transported to the local hospital.  Experience has taught me that when the nurse in the ER tells you the doctor wants to talk to you and they usher you to the family waiting room, it is never a good thing.  And, just like that, my happily ever after was over.  Yet another loss. 

So here I am.  Not quite back at square one, but somewhere in the middle.  I can tell you that I am one of the most blessed people on the planet.  I have an awesome daughter and son who were there for me from the moment I found David.  You know, say what you will about Austin, (yes, even me) but I have met some of the best and most caring friends I could ask for, and finally, David and I were a part of an amazing church family, that continues to wrap their arms around me.  But most importantly, I  was fortunate enough to have David in my life for almost 9 years.  During that time, he never missed an opportunity to tell me he loved me, that I was his angel, and how beautiful I was inside and out.  For the first time in my life, I felt totally and unconditionally loved.  It is a wonderful feeling, and some people live their whole life without knowing this feeling.  I am so very blessed to have known that overwhelming love.  I’m still very sad and grieve daily even constantly some days.  But as I run through everything, I keep coming back to damn I am just so, so blessed. 

Original Poem

This idea has been rumbling around in my head for sometime.  Please forgive the puctuation or lack thereof.  Yesterday after my walk, I put them down into words.  I want my children to know that in the end, their father did not fear death, he feared leaving things undone and leaving without letting me know how important I really was to him.  As I have so often told Ashley and JR, sometimes strength means you stay and fight.  I will be forever eternally glad I did.  I have no regrets.  I did the right thing.  The last night of his life he fought to fulfill all of his dreams for us.  Even if only imaginary, he gave me memories to last a lifetime.

                                                      To Live a Lifetime in One Night

an original poem by Tanyia Conner

She strokes his head, calming his fears, "I be right here,

Get some sleep, you need your rest, you need to fight,"

She says trying to hold back the waterfall of tear

He knows she is right but sleep must wait, instead just tonight

He knows he has a lifetime to live in just this one night

The chair is close; she has lowered the bed, her head she does rest

She holds his hand and allows sleep to take her away.

Her eyes flutter shut. Time is his enemy and he has moments at best,

He can’t leave until she knows his love; he must keep death at bay

"Hey Beautiful, Good Morning Wake up what will we do today?"

Sleepily she rises and looks deep into his sparkling brown eyes

Realizing time is fleeting she makes the choice to dream.

"Let’s look for a place to retire somewhere the eagle flies."

Far away they build a home so cozy and warm down to the very last seem

"Let’s sleep now", and she slips from him into a dream.

She must know, she has no time to sleep, he touches her cheek,

"Hey Beautiful, Good Morning Wake up what will we do today?"

Once again she opens her eyes; exhaustion has made her weak

Let’s go on a picnic she chirps cheerily and on a blanket the food they lay

All his favorites she remembers and describes is her special way.

Sleep calls once again, and she stokes his hand gently and warm.

"We need to sleep, we need to rest for tomorrow our fight will renew."

He knows the fight will end and the memories flow like a swarm

"Hey Beautiful, Good Morning! Wake up! For today we have lots to do.

I have a wonderful vacation that I have planned especially for you!"

Sleepily she listens to each last detail so lovingly planned and outlined.

Knowing he does not have long she holds him closer and whispers in his ear

"You would do this all for me?"  "Yes, and a thousand times more if there was time."

She brushes a tear from his eye and leans closely, "We have nothing to fear.

We will do all these things and more in the coming year!"

But, he knows time is short, death hovers ever so close to him.

"My time is short, I am tired of the fight, I want to go home," he cries.  

"I know this is a fight we will not win," he stares at the lights so dim.

Over them unwillingly he does let sweet sleep sweep like a thousand fireflies

In the night a tear slips down her face, she knows that death is where their fate lies.

The dawn does break and he does rise if only for a while.
He speaks of his dreams and patiently awaits his flight.
She sits by his side quietly awaiting the end as the memories she does file.
No one will ever be able to make these things seem right.
But inwardly she smiles, realizing he has given her a lifetime in one night.

Widowhood: Starting Over Finding Me: One Year Later

Widowhood: Starting Over Finding Me: One Year Later

One Year Later

It's a rainy Monday in Houston, Texas.  And, I guess that this is just about the best way to begin this week.  Traditionally, the first week in February has been my blue time. On February 4, 1990, we lost our second son Travis.  And, I guess I can now add the third week in April to the list of blue periods.  Today marks the beginning of the end for my late husband and, I guess, me as I once was.  And, on Saturday the 21st of April, Aggie Muster will close the hardest week I have had in a long time.

A year seems like a long time, but in reality, it flies by one day melting into the next.  Then you wake up one morning and you realize it has past. Tears which were shed hourly, become daily, then weekly are now rare and short-lived.  Yes, I get sad daily but I don't cry everyday.   If you had told me this last year I would have called you a liar.  But, it is true time and life goes on.  Bridges are crossed or burned, we learn and go on.  And after a year,this year stands as an example of 5 truths I have learned over the last 365 days.

First, not all friends are true, real friends.  My mother once told me that if at the end of my life I could count on one hand my good friends I should consider myself blessed.  Believe it or not, I do this often.  I don't count my family as they are always there.  I just count those who don't have to be there but are.  Over the years, the list has shifted only a bit.  My bestest friend in the whole world, Adrienne and Patrick's best friend, Bobby and his wife Gloria continue to make the list.  Without the support of these individuals I don't know where I would be today.  However, some of the folks from the past are no longer on the list. Many of what we once called our friends, I am now lumping into the acquaintance category.  When Patrick first died, people came out of the woodwork with expressions of sympathy.  This died off shortly after the funeral and I was left with the work, and believe me it is work, of making sense out of life.  So many things changed, I had to leave a career that I really loved, I no longer had the support system my husband offered nor did I have my friends around for support, and I found myself feeling very alone.  After the first few weeks, offers of dinner, visits, and assistance came only from my true friends.   For whatever reason, after the funeral, I made some people very uncomfortable and they steered a wide path around me.  "We just don't know what to say to her."  And, "you know she will feel uncomfortable if we ask her to go with us."  If I ever have the chance to see these people, I will tell them that I did not change.  I am the same person I was with Patrick.  It is not me that makes them uncomfortable it is the thought of the eventual end each of us will know sooner or later.  And, that thought can be disconcerting to say the least.

Second, sometimes you must push yourself into the spotlight and shine.  Yes, I have to confess that I am a bit more outgoing (I have to be) than I used to be.  When you live with someone who embraces the world with a larger than life personality you blend into the background.  You become vanilla-plain sometimes even invisible. Now I know that it is in these times that you have to fight to find yourself.  You have to become comfortable in your own skin.  Find out who you are your likes and dislikes.  This year has given me a chance to say, "Hey, I'm not such a bad person.  I have a lot to offer my family, my company, and my friends."  Through self exploration we find talents that we don't even realize we have.  Recently, I had a meeting with some banker and was explaining the infrastructure of the company when I made the remark, "I have salespeople who do strictly sales.  I am not a good salesman at all."  The banker looked at me and said, "Stop right there.  You have been selling yourself all afternoon.  You are selling your integrity and the real person you are.  You are your product."  Wow, that hit me hard, never did I realize that just by being honest and sincere that I was selling the most valuable product I have-me.  That, my friends, is where and how each of us shine.  Although each day is still a learning experience and I must work each day to put one foot in front of the other, I take inventory of my talents each day and use these as my shining rays. Over the last year, my writing which started out as a "hobby" and a visual outlet for my inner feelings has become one of my greatest strengths.  I use it everyday in business.  Although I would rather spend time working on my novel or writing more poetry, writing to communicate clearly with staff and others in paramount to me these days.  Additionally, I have had to leave the safety of my box and become the center of attention many times.  I have found my voice.  At a business function where I had to stand up and introduce myself, I purposely waited until the end.  People generally remember the first, but they always remember the last.  Waiting for the others to make their introduction, I found myself staining to hear the others as they introduced themselves.  I hate, absolutely hate, it when I can't hear people.  When it was my turn, I stood up and loudly asked if people on the other side of the room could hear me explaining that it was a holdover from my educational background.  I commanded their attention. I was fearless.  Then I proceeded to introduce myself explaining how I came to be part of corporate America.  And, yes true to form, I even cracked a joke about it.  As a result, I made an impression.  In fact, the CEO of the bank sponsoring the event instructed his officers to "pursue me".  Today, I am holding an invitation to the CEO's home for cocktails and dinner.  I've come a long way from poor the little girl from East Slattery who was afraid of her own shadow and only dreamed of great things.  No you may say, "Uh, Tanyia, they are doing that just because they want your business."  Yes, that is true.  But, I was the only one from that luncheon who received an invitation to the CEO's home.

Third, sometimes strength means you stay and tough things out.  I realize that I am one of only three people (myself and our two children) who really knew my husband.  It was amazing to me how many people had no idea I even existed.  "We never knew Patrick had a wife."  Yeah, he did.  I was the one behind the scenes making sure the laundry was done, his suit went to the cleaners and was picked up, dinner was eaten (for those of you who know me, know I don't cook), his medicine was picked up etc.  I packed his clothes for each trip.  I was the smile at the end of the day and the kiss goodnight.  I was the ear he bent when he had a bad day and often times I was the one he took his bad days out on.  I dealt with the sullen and selfish Patrick people never saw.  I saw the man as a whole and loved him in spite of his flaws.  It pains me when people talk about how well they knew Patrick.  Most describe him as almost too perfect of a person.  Maybe this is part of the death experience to saintify those who have passed.  Yes, he could be kind, loving and compassionate.  But, these people did not know the real Patrick.  Ashley, J.R. and I are the only ones he really let into his world-the good and the bad.  And, despite all his faults he died very much loved by us.  As I have previously stated in older blogs, our marriage was less than perfect.  It was what I knew and it was for me, at the time, comfortable.  Yes, there was a time when I had one and a half-foot out the door.  And, I chose to stay.  It was the hardest decision I ever made. But, I know the path I took made me a stronger person and I do not for one minute regret staying.  You ask, would I do it again.  Probably, but I am a different person than I was a year ago so who really knows.

Fourth, deep inside each of us is a fighter.  When Patrick died, I could have just crawled into myself and continued to be vanilla.  No one would have noticed with the exception of a few people.  I could have continued on with my life as it was.  I chose to quit my job.  Contrary to popular belief, I loved my job.  It was never dull and I loved going to work.  For me, it was the perfect job.  However, I also knew that Sierra had put a roof over my head for many years.  It had been all encompassing for my husband, it was his life's dream. How could I not supervise it.  How could I let his staff down.  So, I, unwillingly at first, picked up the reins and took over the company.  No I am not a great business woman- YET-, but each day I get a little bit better.  I remember a comment made about President George Bush (43), "he may not be the smartest, but he does know how to surround himself with experts."  That is what I am doing.  I sought out a mentor in another Trailways franchise.  I have learned to say things like "I don't understand" and "Can you help me?"  So, I am not going down without a fight.  I have dug my heals in and to use an old adage, I am going to bloom where I am planted.  It may take a while, but I am making slow and steady progress making this company my own. In addition, shortly after my daughter's wedding I went back to Weight Watcher's.  Most who know me realize I have fought my weight all my life.  But, I realized that I needed to get control of it if I was going to live.  Once again the fighter came out. I began with swimming daily (see the pool is paying off), then I began walking, finally I got a personal trainer.  Yes, it is expensive.  But, after I paid MD Anderson, Kelsey Seybold, and St. Luke's, I realized that a healthy life is far less expensive. Today I am almost 100 pounds lighter and feel great. I won't lie, some days it is just plain hard.  But, the fighter in me stays and picks me up by the boot straps and I go on.  If you had told me a year ago I could do this I would have laughed.  I just didn't think I had it in me.  But, as you see I was wrong.  There is a fighter in everyone, we only have to unleash our limitation to see our possibilities.

Finally, live life like there is no tomorrow.   If I have learned nothing from this experience, it is that life is too short not to be happy.  My son sees me as a 54 year old teenager who needs monitoring.  Yes, I have done some crazy things, even for me, in the last year.  Rebelliously, I put in a pool.  Okay, I always wanted one.  And, on his death bed Patrick told me I could have one in my next house.  What the heck, I am not moving for a long time.  So, the pool was dug and I love swimming in it.  Next, I tried internet dating (E-Harmony- not so harmonious, Christian Mingle- not so Christian).  I have met some people who I would describe as not so great.  Many are opportunist who pray on widows and widowers asking for money.  And some who just want sex.  Now don't get me wrong, sex is great, but it's not everything.  I still want to be desired and wanted, but I also want someone to know the real me.  And, to want me for the inner me not just the physical me. I got rid of my gas guzzling SUV and purchased a red convertible.  Thing looks like Optimus Prime when it puts the top down.  And, man do I love driving with the top down.  However, I have begun to heed the warnings of some who caution me when and where to put the top down.  But, it is the most freeing experience I have ever had.  And, I have renewed old friendships and open myself up to things I did not do when Patrick was alive.  Anytime we went to a reunion, unless it was a high school event, it was always Patrick's.  I recently went to a Texas A & M Class of 80 mini reunion.  Although I have to admit, I only knew two people there; I had fun.  And, would feel good about going to another one.   Furthermore, I always wanted to be on a Rodeo Committee.  I just thought it looked like fun.  So, I joined.  And, guess what!  It is fun but a lot of hard work.  The jury is still out as to whether I will do it again next year or not.  After all, it is a year away and who knows what is in store for me.  I became more involved in my Church.  Lots of good people there.  And, it is one of the few places I feel totally free to be me, crazy me and all.  Finally, I live each day with the idea that happiness is something I deserve.  I have been seeing a man who actually makes my heart smile.  He is intelligent, perhaps a bit nerdy, but he challenges me to step into the possibility of who I can be.  Is he my boyfriend?  Well, he is a true friend at this point and he is a boy.....so perhaps you can call him that.   I find him charming, funny, and a lot of fun.  He even talked me into getting on his motorcycle, something I never thought I would do in a million years.  It was fun.  And, now we're talking about taking scuba lessons.  Could be a lot of fun.  And, right now folks, FUN is the name of the game.  So, to sum it all up, life is much too short not to open yourself to the possibilities of life.  You need to laugh often, love with all your heart, and drive with the top down.

And, to those who thought I couldn't make it.  I say nanny nanny boo boo.  I did.  I'm wiser, stronger and in better shape than ever.  In the immortal words of Elton John, "I'm still standing, yeah, yeah yeah!!"

Being Alone

Well folks, it has now been 9 months since the death of my husband.  Each time I blog, I want to leave my readers no matter whether they are walking a similar path or not with an bit of wisdom-something to think about.  Yeah, this is a writer's way of getting people to come back, but for me, it is much more than that.  For me this is about letting someone know there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  Sometimes it is so dim we barely see it.  But, we still have to focus on that light and move forward with our lives.  First, I believe the following things to be true.  One, if the loved one were living and you died, their life would not stop.  Yes, they would be sad, but eventually they would pull themselves out of the rabbit hole and get on with life.  Two, life is finite.  We have one opportunity to make the best of it.  Therefore, we cannot afford to waste time.  Three, time does heal.  You will never forget, but it does get easier.  So, for these reasons, we must force ourselves to focus on the light.  Second, I believe in a higher power and an afterlife where there is no pain or sorrow-  only happiness and peace.  But, in the here and now we have to practice these and they are not always easy to say the least.

As I believe the a fore mentioned principles to be true I am a believer that happiness can be found in the here and now.  It can be hard at first, so you have to make it a choice.  Now, I would be a liar if I told you I never have a sad moment.  I do.  But, they are now more of just that a moment.  I find myself crying less in the car.  I can't remember the last time I beat the steering wheel of my car and cursed life and God for that matter.  I am asking less "Why me?" questions.  Yes, I still get upset.  But now it is more directed at the fact I want to move on faster than God wants me to do.  It is these times, I take him out of the driver's seat and try to drive myself.  I get lost every single time.  I say things to people I regret.  Not intentionally mean things, but they are a bit inconsiderate.  God's radar for me is my daughter.  She and possibly my friend Adrienne are the only two people who seem to bring me into check and back to reality.  For all practical purposes, they are my GPS system.

Right now you are probably asking, "So where is this going?"  Well, I will tell you.  I was married for 30 years, dated the same man for 7 years before I married him.  And, like I have said before, I do want to find someone to share life with again.  Right now, today, I am not interested in getting remarried.  That may change-  I have learned to never say never.  But, for today, I want someone who enjoys some of the things I do.  Not everything mind you, how boring would that be.  It would be great if that person makes me stretch the person I am into becoming a better person.  Also, someone who accepts me as I am here today just as I am- unconditionally.  And, since I am now filling out my Santa wish list, I also want someone who is funny, adventurous (reasonably- I'm not climbing Everest at this point in my life), intelligent, well-spoken, and well yeah someone who can be not just a good friend, but a great friend.  And, it is on these things I have set out on my quest for companionship.  And, folks dating hasn't changed much in the last 34 years.  So, far I have been less than successful.

I first began by signing up for Christian Mingle one night.  You know the "Christian" dating site advertised on television late at night to attract all those lonely people who are up alone in bed with their dog or cat all by themselves who had just popped the top on the pitty me can.  Yep, I fell hook line and sinker.  My original thought was that everyone on the sight were well meaning God fearing people so I would be safe.  Not so much.  I quickly got e-mail for a man in Virginia.  Many of you know I have been working on a physical transformation and I figured having someone far away would allow me the time to finish this process before I actually had to met the man.  We began communicating via e-mail.  Then it proceeded to phone calls. Long calls, several a day.  I was acting like a love sick teenager.  Thousands of text messages.  This went on for 4 months.  We had decided to meet on New Year's Eve- how romantic.  He went out of the country right before Thanksgiving.  I was so excited I didn't know what to do.  We had difficulty staying in touch due to the time difference.  But on one particular afternoon at work, we talked via yahoo messenger.  During this time, he confided that he was having problems making his deal go through and was in a bind for cash.  As the conversation went on I heard the little man in the back of my head say, "Wait for it...."  And, then he actually asked me for $18,000.00.  What??????  Is this guy kidding me?  We ended the call.  I sat at my desk for a while, then I got mad.......no I got pissed off.  How could he ask me for money? Well, he knew I owned my own business and he probably figured I was stupid enough to fall for this ploy.  That, I believe, was his first mistake.  I am not stupid.  I told my daughter and several friends.  Yes, you bet I was hurt.  But, I used this as a learning experience.  Lesson learned:  Often there is a fox in the hen house. Beware, creeps are everywhere.

My next encounter was with a gentleman in Ft. Worth.  Once again, he was quite charming, he made me laugh and said all the right things.  The values he spoke of were similar to mine.  I went out with him.  First for coffee, then a couple of other times.  He said that he wanted to get to know me more.  I was special.  (I could have told him this.)  But, one remark stuck out in my mind....."You are so out of my league."  I should have clung to this and said, "You know you are probably right.  We aren't even in the same social class, we don't like the same things, I am more educated, I have more money, I live in a better house."  But, let's face it.  First, I am not rude.  Second, I am not that shallow.  And, third, I am far too trusting.  My reply was that shouldn't matter if the two people click and have chemistry.  I returned to Houston.  We had made plans for him to come down in two weekends.  We talked on the phone several times a day.  Each time he filled my apple basket with compliments, "You are beautiful, you are special, blah, blah, blah".  Anyway, you get the picture.  Once again the romantic love sick teenager reappeared.  (I really have to do something about her.  She is too much the dumb blonde for me.)  The following week, I agreed to go out with some friends and a friend of their's to dinner.  He seemed like a nice guy.  Heck, he even had a donkey.  I love donkeys.  In fact, I have always wanted one but I am afraid the HOA would frown on it.  So, I go by a house not too far from me every chance I get to see the tan and brown spotted donkeys.  He was intelligent (scary smart), he was tall, good-looking, had a job, didn't ask for money.  But, at the time, my head was too full of Ft. Worth to even give it a second thought.  The next time, Ft. Worth and I spoke I told him I had gone to dinner and that I really didn't think there.  The guy was nice, but I really didn't get the vibe he was interested.  Plus, if there was, I would not have seen it for the rose colored glasses I had on.  To make a long story short, the day before Ft. Worth was to come to Houston, he in short stopped calling.  His excuse was his mother had fallen ill.  Now, this may have been true.  I heard from him on Sunday on his way to church.  That was the last time I would ever hear from him.  No texts, no calls, no e-mails.  Except mine which simply said, "You told me the problem with your second marriage was that your wife did not communicate with you.  This my fiend is what I call not communicating.  Okay, maybe your mom is ill but it takes two seconds to text, 'Hey its crazy around here.  I'll call you in a couple of days.'  So, I am not so sure this is a family thing at all.  I won't bother you anymore."  Now, if I had received an e-mail like that I would have immediately texted something, but nothing.  I had my answer.  Time to move on.  Lesson learned:  Stop listening to the words with just my heart, listen with my mind as well.  Be cautious.

Okay, I did have a huge pity party the day Ft. Worth was supposed to come down.  And, I made some comments to my daughter which were uncalled for and inconsiderate.  There will never be enough I'm sorry's in my mind for my actions, but I am sorry.  So, I move on.  A couple of days ago, my friend asked me if she could give my number to her friend.  Sure why not.  It started out a little awkward, but the more I listened with my mind, I saw a different person.  The next day he sent a text message asking if I texted.  Really, did he think I lived in a bubble.  The text messages he sent opened the door for funny Tanyia to walk through.  And, I sent back a flippant response.  This started a string of similar responses on both sides.  Ah, this guy is funny and he gets my sense of humor.  Good sign.  We finally really talked for the first time last night.  He was vastly different from the other guys.  First, he is very intelligent and I didn't have to carry the conversation.  Nor, did I have to use small words.  He understands the big ones.  He told me about his parents which gave me a window into how much family meant to him.  I got to talk about psychological principle and he actually understood what I was talking about.  But, he went one step further he challenged me.  Oh my God, a chance for intelligent conversation about theory.  However, when he told me that my friends loved me and he wanted to get to know me.  "Your friends have told me that you have been through some things that a lesser person would have turned to alcohol or drugs.  That says a lot about your character.  I value my integrity with my friends.  So, let's get to know one another as friends.  Wow, could it be a true gentleman has emerged?  This I can do.  Friends sounds like a great place to start.  As, I too don't want to upset my friends.  We both are in a similar situation as far as that goes.  Plus, this guy seems to be a bit deeper than most.   So, he is definitely worth getting to know.  I'll let you guys know how this one turns out.

Final thought, get out of the rabbit hole.  Do what you need to do to make this happen.  If you need a therapist go see one, a support group find one, or simply talk with your friends.  Make happiness a choice in your life.  Notice the sunshine, notice the beauty in life, breathe in life.  You are alive and life is fleeting at best.  Make the rest of your life the best part of your life.