touching a nerve

It would seem that the post I put up a few days ago touched a few nerves.Those words certainly fired mine.

Thank you everyone! I am beyond overwhelmed and encouraged by all of your words.

And then last night happened.

Jenny, The Bloggess, as she often does, found the words I was feeling last night and today:

I’m sad about last night for a lot of reasons.  And if you are human, and allow yourself to be so, then you probably are too.  Maybe it’s the verdict that upset you, or the destruction afterwards, or the long and difficult path that has led us here and has shown us we have so much further to go before we get to the place where we want to be…a place where kindness and compassion and vulnerability are the things which can be lauded and seen and encouraged and felt.  Or maybe, like me, you’re upset about all of those things and you feel too defeated to want to care anymore.

But if you’re like me, you can’t switch those emotions off.  It’s so much easier to turn those feelings of vulnerability and hurt into a shield of rage.  Rage feels powerful and strong.  It feels good.  And rage is important.  But not at the cost of compassion.  If, like me, today you woke up weary and wanting to become numb, or turn away, or lash out angrily at everyone involved then I feel you.  But I encourage you to keep compassion at the forefront.  Remember humanity.  Remember that your words and actions make a difference.  Remember that the majority of us are so much better than the worse things we see in the news, and that so many of us are leading a quiet revolution to be kind, and compassionate, and to listen to the hurt, and amplify the things that will make a positive difference in our world.  It’s a quiet revolution that will never be covered on CNN.  It’s a movement of people who redirect anger to kindness.  Who listen even when it’s painful.  Who take the hurt of others on ourselves and feel it so that we can become better people.  Who wade into horrible online threads and inject compassion and reason because we know that it can become contagious if done the right way.  Who hope that reason and empathy will somehow lead to a place which is safer for our children and grandchildren.


I like to think that Jenny’s words followed by her call to action is what led to the staggering spike in donations to the Ferguson, Missouri library because perhaps what the citizens of Ferguson need most right now is a quiet sanctuary along with our compassion…especially if we just don’t understand.

I know that I don’t. even after spending part of my afternoon reading through just some of the Grand Jury’s transcripts.


No I don’t understand. I imagine that I never will. But I can be outraged. I can also have compassion for people who are obviously hurting right now in a way that I can never possibly imagine or understand; and so while watching my own circus clowns as they enjoyed our new (to us) “dining room table” I ignored the hate and the rage expressed from all sides all over social media and I prayed, I gave what I could and I gave thanks that I could do these things.

Justice will not be served until those who are unaffected are as outraged as those who are ~ Benjamin Franklin

more time to catch up

One thing that absolutely sucks about losing someone close…aside from the fact that they are now gone from your life…is that life goes on. The kids still must go to school, to various activities and do homework. There are still doctor appointments to keep and committee meetings to attend. Work is still there. Our patients still require round the clock intensive care. There are still meals and housework and errands and on and on and on. These things don’t pause for our grief, for our tears and confusion and overwhelming, numbing shock and grief.

It just sucks, you know!

Then I am reminded that I just need to take a deep breath, put on my big girl panties and just do this.

JP used to tell me that…she used to tell everyone working with her in the NICU that. We all have heard her say that in our mind so much this past week. We all have reminded one another of her words the last few days. This evening is the memorial service for JP and Scott and, yeah, I can hear her saying that right about now. And so this morning, I did just that.

It still sucks!

No, one never does get over losing someone whom you care about just as I imagine we will never understand the senseless, soul-less violence that took away JP and Scott scarcely a week ago. Details of their murders are few, very few…not that knowing the why and how would take away the raw pain that we all feel.

It’s going to take time…a lot of time. Thank you for the grace of time, for the prayers and for the hugs.

looking through Oz colored glasses

Struggling…struggling much, much too hard here. Since receiving news Friday that will gravely affect our finances, our Big Top, our family, our ability to care for our family, I have become unbelievably overwhelmed…

and crying a lot…

and sleepless…

and literally shaky…

and not hungry…

and on and on.

I’m already barely hanging on with depression and anxiety that my former family doctor was certain I could fix with hypnosis. Hormone therapy and running (oh thank glob for running!) keeps me going as does my circus clowns but Friday I was knocked down…knocked down hard. Getting up earlier this week I was knocked down even harder trying to solve our problems because the care and feeding and housing of my family does not matter much at all when The Man demands that which you don’t have…right now! Miss Hardy of the IRS made that very clear to me. Prove your hardship. Prove that you must house and clothe and feed your circus act and then maybe we won’t take away all your money that you can barely live on paycheck to paycheck is what she told me. In the meantime, it belongs to The Man.

I felt as if I could not breathe. And then for almost an hour I went to a very, very dark place inside myself. It froze me. I felt as if I was encased in concrete or perhaps frozen in carbonite. Frozen in that dark place, I have never felt so hopeless, so demoralized, so unable to do anything…except that which my mind seemed to be telling me I must do. It was such a scary idea in my mind.

Yeah, I could very well be having a nervous breakdown. Aren’t you glad I am oversharing that?

Sorry. I just can’t help myself.

I need help.

Desperately so, I know…and no, Dr. Assdale, I don’t imagine that hypnosis is what I need.

But first I must fill out this damn 433F form, as well as 656 Form and then call back Miss Hardy and beg for a little grace…grace I certainly don’t deserve but dammit my family does!

I can’t wait to call her back because I know I can not emotionally and physically take verbal insults and abuse from her again.

But I have to. I must. I have no other choice.

But before I do, I took a break…a brief break, but a very much needed break and journeyed to Oz with Jodie.

Looking through these Oz colored glasses while enjoying a sneak preview of Oz, The Great and Powerful was a much needed balm. An oh-so, but desperately required respite before I completely fall apart and actually listen to that voice in that very dark place.

Don’t worry, I won’t listen to that voice, not ever. I guess that is one good thing Mommy Dearest taught me by doing…to herself…repeatedly…when I was just a child. Actually I credit my circus clowns who call me away, distract me, love me and hold on to me so tightly.

The movie? I enjoyed it. I’ll share a review later. But first I must finish filling out those forms and then prepare to call Miss Hardy back.

If you pray or think good thoughts or light candles or are into voodoo I need all of it desperately.

Thank you.

of mothers, wives, daughters and friends

A few weeks ago I blogged about trading places with a loved one as I headed off for my annual, routine mammogram because as important as it is, I just don’t find having body parts smashed between two metal plates all that fun. Still I make that appointment and I keep that appointment every year since I was 35 years old because it is that important. But then I don’t give it too much more thought until it is that time of year again. But this time there was some concern and the need to get a better look which meant more smashing then ultrasounds then some poking and prodding and examining. I tried not to think about it too much. I don’t have the time for this I told myself. I am the sole income under the Big Top. Still I kept the follow-up appointment and then made like Scarlett O’Hara as long as I could get away with. The good news, for me, is that there was good news earlier this week. With the all clear I heaved a big sigh of relief and began to focus on the usual juggling plus preparing to send the kids back to school and planning for a little fun “me” time next week because, frankly, I deserve it.


Then today I read this from the lovely Susan of Toddler Planet. I met her last year at BlogHer10 and all I can say is her presence in the room you are in is as bright as the stars she has studied over the years. There are no words I can offer except to agree cancer sucks. It really does.

I’m certainly counting my blessing but even more I am hoping and praying for even more for Susan…more grace, more time. I can’t imagine such a bright star ever going out.