Probably Feeling Like You

Feeling like- I just got home from a 9 hour work day and I'm worrying that I might have too much time on my hands! Which reminds me of an AA pal that used to say, " I never go up into my head without a gun and a flashlight."
I read my favorite news sites ( see below), listened to five minutes of Randi Rhodes, then uploaded the Friday episode of Democracy now and it's still waiting to be opened.
I remember how my therapist/spiritual guide Kathie once gave me an essay that theorized, that if each of us beings were a country, how would we run our policies? For instance what causes us to go to war, to batten down the hatches, to sandbag and land mine the perimeters. What causes us to be diplomatic when everything points to war? Which at this time made me think of my ex, who given half a chance would have turned our home into a bunker. I don't know what he was afraid of, it was before Bush 2. But he has his own smoke to shovel.
So I took this essay home and I gave it some thought. (Was still living with the Bunker Boy - soon - to- be - ex). I thought about my land mines and perimeters. I thought about how isolated I felt, that I had two children and no family of my own to run to, and one wrong move would put me into the category of Single Mom. I was not prepared to be a Single Mom, not in this bedroom community in Westchester, NY. Actually not anywhere. Believe it or not in this idyllic community, it just wasn't done. Besides, I did not have anywhere near the education that most of the stay at home moms in my neighborhood had. I was sure I could not provide for myself much less two little kids.
I guess my "country" was an island, as in "no man is..." Plenty of women are. My fantasy island was fruitful and full of life. My children were beautiful and innocent. The island was full of imagination and possibilities. At the same time I lived in fear of the tsunami that would come and take everything. I stepped gingerly, trying not to wake the gods/enemy. I tried to camoflage our habitat, but the enemy is always there, waiting for you to stumble beyond the perimeter and whack you like an insane golfer trying to swing his way out of a sand trap. Somehow my kids and I grew up. They went to college, I tried to. I'm still trying to.
I read a piece in Raw Story tonight about how Santa Barbara has set aside 12 parking areas for the homeless women and elderly who have lost everything due to the down turn in the economy. They are allowed to sleep in their cars in safety from 7PM to 7 AM. 12 parking lots full of the dispossessed in Santa Barbara. Does no one have any shame in this country? Where are all of the great christians? Even though my personal country now is self sufficient and somewhat free, I feel like the flashlight and the gun might come in handy these days. Peace

Mothers Day

Today was the first motherless Mother's Day for me. I never thought that would happen. When you love someone as dearly as I loved my mom, the thought tries not to cross your mind that someday she won't be there. I miss her like crazy. She died on Dec 22 07. A few days before Christmas. Now it's nine months later and I keep trying to look for things she'd like, and  whenever I get close to Ridgefield, CT, where she last lived, I feel that momentary stab when I realize she is no longer there. But then again she still here. I have a little altar on my dish cabinet where her ashes lie in a box in a velvet covered pouch. There is a picture of the first five of us kids beside her and an Audoban bird clock that she loved so much and talked to it toward the end.  Then again she always talked to her plants, real animals she had, and tiny babies. Things that answered her only with unconditional love, which is what she craved and what I felt she gave me.

She came up to live with me in 1994. At that time I believe she would have been around 65 and finally getting a life. She and I had been estranged for many years, for I got out of her house as soon as I could - age 13 - partly due to the nasty, awful, stream of boyfriends that she had after my dad left her. She was on her own with all of the kids, (7 of us and my absent dad's great Aunt) and no money. Dad'd had a mid life crisis and had to become the man-about-town dandy he had always believed he was. And he did. He went out with all the big boobed blonds, some married,  some not. Some young enough to be one of our older sisters. He moved to a resort in the Bahamas and lived like a king. But enough about him. I will give him his due on fathers day. He is no longer of this world either. Not that I am afraid to speak ill of the dead. I don't believe in that. But we shall save that rant for June.

So back to mom: She moved up to NY in 1994, not long after Hurricane Andrew almost struck New Orleans, where Mom had lived since around 1972.  I'll never forget talking to her on the phone while she was watching the massive storm come toward her city. She was wheelchair bound from a shattered ankle.  I was distraught that I couldn't get there to save her; she was fearful of her cats and herself drowning.  I begged her at the time to please come up and live with me. She had to wait until she was totally fed up with the remaining kids who were still living close by in Louisiana. 

I finally convinced my now ex- husband that we needed to buy ourselves a house and get situated.  We had recently done a nine year stint of working in the middle east; I was not going to do that again! So when we looked for a house I always kept in mind that I wanted an extra room for mom. She moved up with us and stayed with me, my two kids and the ex, who made my mom's life miserable, until another angel came into my place of work and gave me the name of a beautiful housing development for retirees in Connecticut.  Not thinking we could possibly get her in there, (New York State has nothing for poor elderly), somehow after we applied and were interviewed, the people at the elderly housing place said they had an opening.  They said openings had never happened like that. So again her karma , her angels, came through for her. She lived out the end of her days there in an idyllic peaceful community with lot's of friends and wonderful caring people all around her. She died in her sleep on Dec 22, three days before Christmas. I miss her, but I'm so glad she didn't suffer.

WTF?

See comment above.

On "Racism" and Radio Days with Maron

It's been great to hear Marc Maron undiluted on the radio these past few days.  A pearl before Air America swine.  Guy makes you think and laugh all at once.

Here's an excerpt from an email I sent to marc@marcmaron.com (don't know if that still works):

Im dreaming of a hot summer

I swear, if the powers that be and the powers that don't be, don't get off their royal arses and  do something rash. I said arse and rash at the same time- ewww! As I was saying  those spotty bummed  ner-do-wells with the exception of a few newbies, plus Senators Sanders and Leahy, Waxman "the mustache of justice" and a couple of others that poke their heads around the corners and lunge and run away. Live to fight another day, which is kind of my MO. I am brave, but I really hate pain . That's why I never played sports. I will fight, but I will not walk head on into a brass knuckle. Which brings me to my point. I was listening to WBAI to the people who survived Kent State.It was the 38th anniversary. I remember at about the same time when  I was fifteen when I ran away to the Washington DC anti-war rally in 1970. I dragged my poor unsuspecting friends that could disappear for a few days to hitch up to DC with me. My best girlfriend thought it was cool as hell. We lived in a church and someone passed acid around, which of course I took, then proceeded to walk away with the kid who gave me the acid around some hoity toity  part of the city. When he got me far from my friends and I was full tilt tripping on some pretty nasty stuff, the kid said he was going to make me freak out. I looked at his little ugly face and and skinny bod and said bullshit. I ran away from him only to realize I was in this strange, very large (and dangerous) city. I was lost and wishing I could find the little shit now.  He lived in the city, he knew where he was. I kept feeling like he was behind me mocking me. At the point of panicking I had an "Angel moment" Which is like when your car is broken down in the middle of nowhere  and at the end of your tether and "Angel" people show up- usually the last people you would think- and rescue you. It's happened many times to me. Well this elderly couple walked right up to me and asked me if I was lost. I said yes and probably started to cry. They gave me a ride right to the door of the church. I thanked them and went thankfully to my cold hard pew to sleep. My girlfriend woke up and yelled at me for leaving the building. She didn't know the half of it! The next morning we were woken and told what our jobs were for the day. We were to light fires in and roll the big municipal trash cans into the road to stop commuter traffic. We we very happy to get to have sanctioned vandalism.  The glee was soon to be a nightmare as a brigade of riot police on Vespas buzzed up ( no I wasn't still tripping ) and one honed in on me and drove straight at me and kicked the side of my knee so hard, I thought it was broken. My girlfriend helped me limp back to the church, where we waited for our next act to be given to us.