…13 days…


July 1968 * 6 days old Kodiak, Alaska

I’ve shared this picture before here but it seems so fitting for what’s on my mind today…so what the heck…I’m using it again. It’s the only picture I have of me as a baby. I was the fourth of four so of course there aren’t very many pictures. By the time a fourth comes along, and a third girl to boot, nobody cared about the new baby anymore. There aren’t many pictures. It’s been a family joke that the two oldest have thousands of baby pictures, girl and boy, my other sister and myself; not so much. Too funny.

I’ve really been think a lot lately because of my circumstances; the fact that I’m moving back to Idaho and that I’m basically living with a person who ignores me…all I do these days is go for walks and think too much. Typically thinking too much is a terrible thing for me but I’m different now, somehow. The Lord has truly changed me and I see my own value as a person and I do my best to embrace it and to not beat myself up over the actions of other people. I know that I am only in charge of one single soul…and that is mine, and others acting ugly towards me is not a sign of my ineptitude but rather their lack of understanding how to be compassionate or kind. It is what it is and if I had any power to control how others act this world would absolutely be more loving and beautiful than it is right now. I cherish peace. So I make my own. Me and the Lord, we do it together.

I mostly think about people when I’m over-thinking and I think about what makes people do the things they do or act the way they do. Usually I can understand and put myself in another’s shoes and empathize with them and even doing this I don’t always agree or disagree, but rather try to understand how a person came to be who they are. Sometimes I wonder if I do in fact have some sort of God-given gift for this because I do think it’s something that is innate in me and has been there since birth. The older I get the more I recognize situations in my life that I didn’t understand at the time but now have a lot more meaning. This is especially true of spiritual things in my life. I know that when I was a kid I always knew that someone was with me. We weren’t a particularly spiritual family but I did attend church with my friends and even as a child I knew that I loved Jesus, a lot. He was right up my alley back then and He still is today. I identify with Jesus quite a bit. I know that to some it sounds crazy, but He is more real to me than I am to my own self. I have never not cried when discussing his crucifixion. When I was a kid I could not even attempt to understand why anybody wanted Him harmed. I loved Him and I truly wanted to be like him lest without being crucified of course. Many times as a kid I imagined Him with me and I even talked to him and didn’t understand until later that what I was doing was actually praying. My entire life, even when I was not being a very good adult I’ve always had a very strong moral compass and I give all of the acknowledgement to Him. He taught me. I didn’t always listen, but He talked to me anyhow and He was there for me when I started to understand that being the person that I was being was not doing anyone any favors, especially myself. Slowly I changed and even today I slip up and do stuff that I’m ashamed to talk to Him about, but His love is constant and I love it so much that I truly try to do whatever I can to keep Him right there at my side being my conscience. I’ve always loved Him and in times I’ve felt that He has been the only one to love me back. He is everything to me and I’m glad that I can grasp that now and understand the glory of my life no matter how bitter it may seem at times.

That being said…I remember way back in my life. I truly do remember being 14 months old and I think I honestly remember just about every single day of my life since. I thought that everybody remembered life like this but I’ve only come across a handful of people that remember that far back. I’ve even read that scientifically nobody remembers anything before the age of five. I am here to say that it is not true. I remember the house my family lived in before we moved from New York to Florida and I was five when we moved. I can draw out the floor plans of that house and it is there that I have my very first memory of being alive and what I’ve been pondering in my days-long time period of silence and waiting to go back home. I’ve thought of that day millions of times in my life and that’s most likely why it has stayed so fresh all of these decades later; if it’s constantly there in your mind how could you possibly forget it? The same for every memory I think. I’ve always had loner tendencies and with that came my habit to over-think about anything that can be thought about and I believe this is why my memory of my childhood is still so fresh in my mind…simply because I’ve thought about every single thing so many darn times that I couldn’t forget no matter how much I wanted to. So I woke up and I knew that I’d been really sick. This is my very first memory and the one that every person in my family has confirmed took place when I was barely a year old.

I woke up on the couch and I remember that on the other side of the wall was the kitchen. The wall was a half-wall and when I woke up my mom was in the kitchen. It was just her and I and I came awake and somehow knew that she’d be pleased so I called her. My mom, bless her heart, she is nothing but goodness a million times over. She was such a loving and tender mom and I’m so fortunate to have been raised by her. She ran right into the living room and sat on the side of the couch. She was brushing the hair off of my forehead and although she didn’t say that she loved me very much I knew all of my life and still know that she did and does. She would put cold wet washcloths on my head anytime that I was sick and she did that on the day that I woke up. I really like that feeling and I still do it today to myself and my grandkids. It’s kind of “my thing” when anyone is sick and I even did it with patients in the hospital. So she did it then but it was my first experience with the washcloth and I remember that I liked it that she was there and she was  just touching me so very sweetly. I went back to sleep and when I woke up later everyone was home except for my dad. My brother came and sat on the couch and said that he had a present for me. He gave me a little truck with zoo animals in yellow cages in the back. I’ve already related this part of the story many times here I think. It’s a good little memory to pull up when I want to remember my brother as a kid. He passed away when he was 41 in a car accident in California. We’d never been close due to the twelve year age difference between us and as adults we had dramatically different lifestyles so I’ve always enjoyed this tender memory of him. I have many crazy brother stories as well…the silly things that kids do to torture each other and such but by the time I was five years old he was basically gone and on his own so after that we don’t have a heck of a lot of memories together. I was 29 when he passed.

Today when I was thinking about this memory I went off in a different direction. Rick was talking about how people blame God sometimes when bad things happen and that he never blamed the Lord for the surgery that left him disabled. And my first thought and my reply was: ” that’s because you actually saw Him when you died and that wouldn’t have happened without surgery.” Rick actually did die during his surgery. The surgeons accidently cut through three arteries in his stomach and he bled out and died. Real death. He was dead and they patched him up and gave him many liters of blood and got his heart pumping again and eventually got around to doing the spine surgery that they were there for in the first place. They kept in a medically induced coma for months and considered amputating his leg but they performed a fasciatomy instead so he still has his leg but his spine is wrecked. During this time he had an experience with the Lord. It is his story to tell so I will not go into details here, but I believe every word that he says about that time and he asked Him if he could come back so he wouldn’t have to leave his sons. He was granted that request by the Lord and today I don’t understand why he’s not making a greater attempt at using his second chance to have a better relationship with his sons, but again that is not MY story, that’s his story of his life so I just think my over-thinking thoughts and move on. But his mention of the surgery today made me think about the time I was 14 months old and very sick…this time that I was suddenly aware of my life and that I was alive. Apparently in the days before my recollection of life I’d stopped breathing and an ambulance was called and I was resuscitated and kept in the hospital for a few days. My parents did not get us kids immunized until the school district forced them to do it for us to attend school. They weren’t like parents today who play by all of the government’s rules. My dad didn’t trust doctors and so all of us kids very seldom ever saw the inside of a medical establishment. So I wasn’t immunized and I contracted chickenpox, mumps and measles all at the same time. That’s what they tell me at least, I have no clue if that is what a doctor said or if they just decided on their own, but there I was sick as a dog and my fever spiked and I stopped breathing and turned blue and my dad tried unsuccessfully to perform CPR while my mom called an ambulance and suddenly I was waking up on a couch and my life started. Honestly. Sounds really bizarre I know…but I remember what I remember and happenings before that day were much talked about in the days after I awakened and started being a kid.

Today I started wondering if maybe there was more to it than that…what if there was something spiritual happening? I’m not even sure what it is that I’m wondering about, but if I died and I had an out-of-body experience with the Lord, like Rick did…maybe it changed me somehow. What if that is the reason why I’ve felt Jesus walking with me my entire life? What if that’s the reason why I was so drawn to Him in Sunday School with my friends? Isn’t it possible that I was drawn to Him because I really did know Him? What if I went back when I died? What if it wasn’t my time…which I think is pretty evident by now seeing how I’ve been alive forty plus years since and have had children and grandchildren since that day. But I mean in a much more spiritual way…I was with Jesus right before I woke up. This moment on the couch has always been to me “day one” of my life. It’s where my story begins, everything after is still in my head and gets pondered over and over again. Lots and lots of memories stored inside my head from that age on…and one of the more meaningful ones is my feeling that someone has been by my side since that day. I have absolutely talked about this ‘person’ to everyone that I’ve ever had deep discussions with. My daughters know about him and my mom knows…it hasn’t been a secret but nobody ever suggested who it was until my oldest daughter came to my house with a Bible in 2010. I was in the midst of an insomnia nightmare and literally thought that I was going to die for lack of sleep. My doctor was trying everything he could but my heart rate would not go down and my body would not rest and every time I closed my eyes I’d hear a loud slamming noise and wake up and it damn near killed me. No joke. It was a terrible terrible time for me. My daughter brought over her Bible and read it to me and something just opened up in my heart right there in my backyard and she told me that it was Jesus that had been with me all of that time. It actually makes me cry right now as I’m writing this because I’m so humiliated that He saw me doing some of the things that I’d done in my life up til that day. That day she said something that struck a chord with me and I started attending a community church to learn more and the more I learned the more I recognized the Lord and the more concrete it became to me that He had indeed been right there thru every single thing…all of it. He helped me raise my daughters. How else could a naïve sixteen year old have a child and everything turn out okay? I had two babies before I ever saw twenty years of life…yet somehow everything turned out great and they are such amazing women today that there is absolutely no way I could take any credit for that. That was Him.

Today I am convinced that something happened way back there in New York in 1969. He did something when I went back. He taught me and then He gently lay me upon that couch and promised to stay with me even when I was scared and I felt Him the whole time. I forgot His name or His face but I didn’t forget how His love felt and I loved it so  much and just embraced it all of these years. My heart has always been very tender and sensitive. I have spent a lot of years hating myself for my inability to do to others the things that they’ve done to me. And don’t get me wrong, I have been very careless with others feelings in my life. I have caused much harm with other’s hearts intentionally and unintentionally. I had at least fifteen years of being wreckless with other’s hearts and today I deeply regret it and when I get in touch with people from my past to apologize my heart just soars when they accept my apology…and there are still some who have not forgiven me. I have made my amends though and I’ve asked the Lord to forgive me as well. It’s much easier for Him to forgive than it is for us and that is why I love Him so. I do my very best these days to be fair and honest and to treat others the way that the Lord has treated me. I’ve been a horrible person at times and I’ve turned my back on Him completely until His voice became so loud that I had no other choice than to change my behavior. I imagine Him there…screaming my name..Ada it’s me!! You can trust me!! It’s me, Jesus! Until I woke up and saw Him and wept and fell into His arms. I finally recognized Him and His attempts to save me from my own self. I’d become a product of my environment after he left me there on that couch. And His intention was for me to be something more than that. That’s why I didn’t stay there with Him as an innocent baby. He taught me His ways and left me there and the rest was up to me. Thank goodness I heard Him later…years later living in Idaho with my dogs.

My daughter helped me to see Him and to recognize Him and I will be forever grateful. Now I accept that He knows more than I do…hahahaha imagine that. And when I listen to Him he doesn’t remind me of every fault that I have or every bad behavior that has occurred in my life. He reminds me that for forty-nine years  He has been there waiting patiently for me to be His child again. And today I feel like it all came together in my mind. That day in New York…that was a very special day. That was the day He and I made a beautiful plan for me to be soft and to care and to love and even if I never got any of it back…He’d be there for me. He is beautiful and His love means more to me than anything. I’ve ever experienced here in my life. He gave me such a beautiful little family and He trusted me with those two girls and even when I was scared and hating myself He was there picking up the pieces and holding them while I healed. Good grief I’m not even sure where all of this is coming from. I’m so grateful for this life. I’m so thankful that I finally woke up. Literally.

And those two beautiful little girls that He trusted me with. My gosh, what an absolute Honor. The greatest blessing I’ve ever been given and far greater than anything that I deserve. Those two little girls who are now women are doing their best to bring me home where I can feel loved again. I’m so torn up with gratitude and thankfulness. I sometimes wonder if it’s all worth it…all of my life…my messy heart and my need to try to rescue men and my failed attempts at creating a loving relationship with any male other than my dogs and God. My body hurts and I’m so lost and alone here in Alaska and I’ve put on a brave and smiley face and I’ve given it everything that I have. There is nothing left of me to give here. It’s been used up and I made zero impact on this man good or bad. I’ve felt so hopeless and I’ve been so focused on listening to the Lord and being who he’s calling me to be regardless of the circumstances and if I’m comfortable or happy or not. I’ve stayed so focused on just letting my heart be what it is…I’ve loved with every ounce of who I am. The same as I’ve done with these two girls the entire time they’ve been my children. The difference is that my two girls have been walking with Jesus as well. Crazy how that happens huh? And they love the way the He taught us back when I was wavering on the brink as a baby in New York. He taught us. Because I do believe there was a plan being formed and it was up to me to listen and to get us there and by the grace of God alone I’ve come to this place in my life where these two beautiful women are quite literally saving my life. Because of love. Because of the Lord’s love. And if that doesn’t move a soul then I don’t know what will. My life here in Alaska is done. I did my part. It is not up to me to make the best of Rick’s life now. That is completely up to him and I wish him the best. I wish him more than the best and even want his life to be more fantastic than he is even aiming for. I wish him well. I wish for him to open his eyes and his heart and to fully embrace what the Lord has to offer. It all comes back to us in the end. The love we give out…eventually it does come back. You may nor believe it or see it and it may seem like it’s taking forever, but trust me when I say that it will come back to you at the time when you need it most and it will heal you in ways that you didn’t even know that you needed healing. He has taught me very well. I am a child of God, the most High King. Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior

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…escaping Alaska…

Well. It’s been three years. Actually, two years and 10 months but close enough. When I came here I didn’t expect any of this. I don’t really know for sure what I did expect to be honest, but I know that this was not it. Alaska… it’s not for me. It just isn’t. it seems like 99% of the people here love it and get offended that I don’t love it as well. Secretly though I think they’re lying to themselves…at least some of them…because there’s not a lot to like here. But, I could be wrong. It’s quite possible that it’s just me. I’m not truly Alaskan although this is my birthplace. I thank the Lord for giving me my beautiful Alaskan daughters and for my birth here and what not. But I can’t be here. I’m going home.

I can’t even get my darn self home. It’s been close to four years since surgery and I’m finally crawling back into life. It’s been tough. It’s been crazy difficult and I spend most of my time here working on gaining my strength and working on my spine so that I can get back to the business of living. My girls are doing it all…making it possible for me to go home. It’s a little difficult to talk with them about it when they’re being so kind and generous with me because I’m embarrassed. I’m the mama, I should be helping them. It’s very humbling and embarrassing and I really only can come to terms with my lack of being able to contribute by promising myself that I won’t let my family down. I refuse to be a burden. I will find a way to make it work. I’ve been given a lot of knowledge to take with me from my physical therapy team. I can walk 6 miles at a time now. My shoulders are looser and getting stronger every single day. My neck….well I’m working on that and I have to trust myself that I will do this. I will fix this brokenness and I will not burden my family with my physical problems. I’ve truly come so very far since the day I left Idaho. I work on my body daily and it shows and I feel it and I believe that a day will come when I get thru a day without thinking about my spine. I’ll do it. I know myself. I’m going home. Starting over once again. I thank the Lord that my daughters care enough to give me a helping hand. Good grief they’re so beautiful I am amazed always that they’re even related to me. I’m very fortunate and I know it.

So…this has not been the most pleasant experience of my life…being in Alaska again…being here with him. Once again. I just amaze myself at my foolishness when it comes to men. My open heart and believing in people who don’t believe in themselves. I honestly don’t know what my problem is but I’ve grown very close to the Lord while I’ve been here and honestly I do feel Him telling me that I’m fine the way He made me and I try to accept that. I’m soft and gentle. That’s just who I am. I love easily and I’ll take a lot without giving up. It’s not necessarily a good thing to be this way. I know it sounds good but truly its not. It’s painful. It truly is. I think I just don’t get it sometimes….that not everyone is like me. People are dealing with their own issues in their own unique ways. People come in all shapes and sizes and I’m just one of those shapes. But I do love. It’s what I do. The Lord called me to do that, so I do it. And I get hurt and yet I keep on….doesn’t make sense yet I continue my life exactly this way. It could be worse I’m sure. But knowing that it could be worse doesn’t make it any less frustrating or hurtful. Which brings me to the other stuff…the real stuff: Disassociative Personality Disorder. Boom. Yeah….this is  word that is in my life now. Not a diagnosis of my mental health but of my man, the person I came here for who is so far away and so lost to me now that it seems like I’m living here in Alaska with a stranger. I started to write about this today but I could go on forever about how his diagnosis has negatively affected my own life and I kind of don’t want to dwell on that right now. I’ll just write about that at another time. So much has been going on lately that I’m sure my head will drum up enough stuff to pour out in the hour that I’ll be sitting here while I’m awaiting my turn on the treadmill. That aspect alone has contributed to much of the sadness that has overtaken my life here up north. I’m just truly really happy that I’m going to be back home with people who love me.18 days to go.

What started out as so simple has turned so ugly and it just tears at my soul every single day. I try to figure out what went wrong, but when I only have my own perspective to go on I tend to blame everything on myself. Truthfully I know that nothing here is my fault in the sense of me trying to cause a problem between us. I’ve never given my heart so freely to a man in my life and that includes Eliseo and my never-ending love for him that will be there until the day that I die. Quite simply in this case I was duped. I really was and it’s so embarrassing and degrading and makes me feel like an idiot for being so sincere with my feelings and just kind of assuming that everyone else is doing the same. I have dealt with insecurities my entire 49 years of life. My twenties were spent in a mess of not understanding my own worth…in my thirties I started to understand that I did actually have a lot to offer to people in general and to the world. Now at the end of my forties I am completely leaning on the Lord to tell me who I am and what to do and where to go. He tells me that I’m soft and to let my guard down and simply love others with no promise of getting anything in return. So this is who I am now and it’s not my own idea…I honestly feel the Lord telling me this and changing me as a person. I just blindly walk in Faith and when I stop to catch my breath and look around I see that I’m not getting treated well and it’s so painful that I have to just fix my eyes upon Him and accept that He’s taking me somewhere. I do have complete faith in the Lord. Without Him I am nothing. So when I talk about who I am I’m talking about who I am in my walk with the Lord. I am different than the woman who left Idaho 3 years ago.

I have a fight in my head here in Alaska about my physical self, which is a work in progress and my mental self. My mental self is not getting what it needs to thrive here. Physically I’ve come so far. Just three days ago I walked 7.29 miles. I just took off walking and waited until my phone told me that I walked six miles; my original intent, then decided to do one more mile just to prove to myself that I can do anything that I decide I’m going to do. At mile seven I found myself in front of a quaint little wooden church in downtown Palmer. Although this town is incredibly small there is a lot I’ve never seen simply because much of the town is spread out through the woods and mountains and there’s really only one road that you need to be on in Palmer. The other roads are just roads going nowhere really. I actually saw quite a few great little things on my trek and it was a sunny fall afternoon and two-and-a-half hours after I started walking I ended up in front of this church at mile seven. The trees are beautiful right now and the leaves were falling and I felt so spiritual and strong standing there in front of that church knowing what I had just accomplished. My body being so damaged and constantly in pain….in that moment I felt absolutely free and invincible. I loved myself so much for doing that. Even right this second I still feel quite pleased with myself that I walked that far. I probably never will again….but still….I did it! So a few moments later as I was walking towards Palmer Square to call for a ride back home my daughter called via video-chat. She was at the apartment that will be my new home when I get back to Idaho and I couldn’t see the screen on my phone very well because I’d dropped it in the middle of the road a few weeks back and stood there and watched in horror as cars drove over it. It still works but the screen looks like it’s taken a few bullets. I could see enough though to see that this little apartment she chose is going to be perfect for me and I silently thanked God again for the blessings that are my daughters and their love for me. I called Rick to come pick me up and he was already on his way…wondering where I was because I’d been gone for close to three hours. So I see him at the train depot and hop in the car. This is the person that has been my best friend for the past three years. This is the man that I gave my heart to with every ounce of my being….and I tell him that I walked 7 miles. I’m not sure if he even understands his ways or how he hurts with his words and sometimes lack of words. His response was that I should’ve just walked three miles away from home then three miles back 😦 I guess that response was because if I had done that he wouldn’t have had to come pick me up. I don’t know. I wanted him to be excited and/or happy with me or for me but this is who we’ve become. Nope…I’m just bothersome with my wandering away from home and needing to be picked up. It’s aggravating. It hurts really.

So here I am having these experiences with a person who seems to not give two hoots about me, thousands of miles away from home and my constant thought is how did this happen. How did I get to this when my intentions were so good? It’s mindboggling and I want to talk about it, but we do NOT talk about these things and if I bring them up I’m met with a lot of terrible talk that stresses me out and makes me cry, so I just keep it in my head and try to give it all to God. What a load my Savior is carrying for me. My gosh I’m just a mess of soft heart and strong will, broken body and fierce mind. It’s exhausting. I want to hash this all out. I want to sit down like adults and say “what happened, where did we go wrong?” The new diagnosis of DPD though plays on both of our minds and I know that we handle it differently. I feel like he should try to overcome it and he thinks that I should try to live around the perimeters of this mental illness and let it just live it’s life. I can’t do that though and I won’t do that. I don’t care who you are if you love someone then you treat them with love. I feel as if he could say something to me along the lines of ..”help me out with this, what can we do?” But he thinks different and I can only control my own self and when it comes to my mind I just have to accept that I think much too much and it shows in every aspect of my life. In actuality I cannot even begin to imagine how I would handle having the diagnosed mental illness that he has. I would hope that I’d have at least one person that I trusted completely and I’d try to listen to them if they told me that I was getting out of control. I’ve tried to tell him that when he turns into the angry, mean man that swears at me and tells me to leave. I have tried to tell him that he needs to trust me when I say that it’s happening again. But that isn’t working. That actually makes things worse. Nothing works and I think I’ve decided that he doesn’t really want anything to work. I think he kind of likes having an excuse to have bad behavior. I think his Psychiatrist tends to let him believe that he isn’t responsible for any of his actions. I can’t live with that. I just cant. Especially because he was not like he is now when I first got here. He was completely different. In fact we’ve both kind of agreed that he changed in his treatment of me and his feelings for me once he truly gave up in his quest to gain his ex-wife’s love again. Or that’s not even the right words because he knows that she still loves him. I think he wanted to have her and I both and he thought somehow he could do that and it would work. But it didn’t. I finally got him to leave that old relationship where it belonged…in the past…and once he did that it feels like he decided that I’d stolen something from him that he cherished. So be it. It is what it is and I just need to get away before his actions eat up any more of my soul. I’m still here. My heart is still there waiting to return to the place where I have children and grandchildren who don’t expect anything from me beyond my love. It’s my comfort zone and my happy place. I’m going home.

So there’s that. Yes…that has been very very hard to handle here in Alaska on my own. Mind you I in no way think that I am a super easy person to live with either. I know all too well my own faults and my own demons, yet mine typically just destroy myself and tend to not hurt people who love me….And on top of the cake of fun that has been Alaska…I found and then lost to cancer the only cousin I’ve ever had in my life…in my real life as a kid in Kodiak. I found Melanie after 35 years. Last year actually right this week I went to her home and we had a great reunion. Last April she passed away. It took cancer a mere 2 months to take her down and she was fighting the whole time. I haven’t truly dealt with that yet. I just understand myself and my soul and I’m basically pretending like it didn’t happen and that she’s really just over at her house ignoring me. Eventually when I’m alone one night it’ll hit me and I’ll have to tell her Good-bye but it won’t be here or now. I’ll deal with that when I’m in a tender environment again. I need to be close to my daughters; people who understand me and how I work and I’ll let Melanie go there. I miss her. I love her. I pray that she’s at peace, I really do. And I hope to see her again one da

I lost another cousin last month. We’d been very close but only in heart, as he lived in Florida and is my mom’s age. Somehow I feel his absence as if he lived right here in my house before his passing. I flat out loved him. He and I talked each other through some tough times both while I’ve been here in Alaska and before in Idaho. I miss him a lot. I pray that I’ll see him one day and we can share a laugh about our facebook shenanigans. He was a great and true person and he passed in his sleep during a nap. God bless him I’m so thankful that it was that peaceful for him. And sometimes I just think that I can’t wait for the Lord to take me too, so I can just be where there is unending love and less pain in my body. But my constant thought of my grandbabies pull me in this other direction and make me pray for a long continuing life…50 more years if I’m lucky enough, God willing.

And two days ago I saw my dog. This truly might be too much for me to write about right now and I think I’ll save it for another day. Life. Geez…it is just too much sometimes. I know this part…this painful part won’t last. I know that brighter days are right…there. I’m just trying to keep myself afloat and hold onto the Lord until the storm passes. Until the day I die I’m quite certain I’ll be wondering how I get myself into these predicaments. I “think” that I’m a level headed woman. Maybe too soft, but wise and level headed. Then things get like this and I wonder how I manged to get here. I was trying to rebuild with the broken pieces of my life after surgery. Could I have truly believed that this is what was actually taking place? Oh my goodness I amaze myself at my ineptitude. I truly do. Time to start over. Phase 3 of phase 2 😏


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…rugged and worn…



Little Susitna River, Alaska (2016) picture by me 🙂

I don’t like Alaska. I try, I honestly do and even though technically I’m a “native” Alaskan by birth I am not an actual Native American. I would absolutely love to say that I am as native Americans are so beautiful with their tanned skin and dark hair. I’d love to be able to understand where I came from and the history of my family. I’m English/Scottish/Dutch by heritage standards I guess. But I was born in Alaska and my family left when I was one and returned when I was 13, so Alaska is really the only place that I’ve considered to be home since moving back as a teen. I left again in my early thirties with my daughters, who just happen to be part Native American no thanks to myself for that but instead, their dad. I had the intention of never returning because I’ve never truly liked it here. Yet in 2014 I found myself once again in Alaska and it’s been my safe haven so to speak while I recover and recoup and try to heal my broken spine. For this I am and I will be eternally grateful and as lame as it sounds today as I’m sitting here I am thankful that I haven’t become homeless, although it could’ve in all reality turned out that way. I have a warm home and bed and two birds that I love and food whenever I want it. I think that I have lost the love that I came here for…he seems gone, but then again nothing seems completely normal right now so it could just be me being weird again.

I only come here and write when my life is a little messed up. Of course I don’t have to figure things out when I’m happy and life is full of joy HaHa. Happiness can just be and doesn’t need explaining and absolutely doesn’t need to be explained to get it out of my head. My life isn’t the greatest right now. It’s not even particularly kind-of okay, but I’m trying to hang on and remember what I have back in Idaho and remember who I am when I’m not is such a weakened state of mind. I’m not a weak woman and I know it. I also know that I’ve probably let this spinal atrocity take over a part of me that I never even knew existed before. I never knew I’d fall and not be able to get back up. Up until my surgery I honestly thought that I was kind of invincible and now that I know that I’m not it’s consumed me and I pretty much spend every waking hour thinking about what I’ve lost and trying to figure out how I’m going to survive for another 50 years, God willing I get that much more time to try to get it right. I have kind of given in to my ailments and honestly that is NOT the woman I once was. I do many different things physically to become stronger. I have actually gotten in pretty good shape in the past year with the stretches and yoga and physical therapy that I do to try to get back to my former self. I’m so self aware these days…so in tune with how my body works and what it’s feeling and how to soothe it. That’s something to be proud of I suppose. Now if I could just do that with my mental self, I’d be great.

So like I said I don’t like Alaska. It’s beautiful over here on the mainland but not as beautiful as Kodiak, yet Kodiak is an island and far too secluded to be a place where I’d want to be. I just want to go back to the sun and real stores and to people who aren’t fighting winter by abusing drugs and killing people.  And although this is where I’ve spent the majority of my life I am not “Alaskan” like the other people who live here. I don’t want to be out trekking through the snow. I don’t like for it to be dark at noon. It’s very depressing here and that’s another reason why I need to get out soon. The longer I stay here with him and with the absolute disinterest he shows me or anything that I’m doing…the more depressed I become. I know that I can’t give in to it. I can’t just let it take me over and sleep all day, although I really so badly do want to just stay in bed all day. I wish that I could wake up and be done with this entire episode of my life. I wish I could be back in my life of not worrying about who loves me and being lied to and feeling inadequate when compared to another woman. And I still have to keep in mind that through out my life I have many times assumed certain things to be true based upon my own anxieties and insecurities, so just because I’m looking at a situation a certain way doesn’t mean it’s the actuality of the situation. I act to all of the world as if I very much love myself but it’s not completely true and this fact brings about a lot of self-abuse in my mind. It seems as if I’m constantly thinking that others feel towards me the way that I do. I feel like such a huge failure…so…I do understand that sometimes I project my own ideas into how others are acting towards me. But in my life right now it’s truly hard to tell what exactly is going on. I’m having a lot of anxiety and even more signs of depression and the combination work together to make a kind of self made prison. It’s getting harder and harder to escape from it these days. I’m not sure what to do. The things that I KNOW need to happen: 1) I need to be able to find something that helps me move around like a normal person without my body screaming out in pain, 2) I need to have an income and stop depending upon other people to take care of me and this will only happen if I…3) finally get approved for SSDI or I get better and can go back to work and 4) I need to get back to my family and the people who think like me, talk like me and love like me…the people who get me and who I get in return.

I had another procedure done on my neck last week and what at first seemed like a breakthrough has now turned into some kind of nightmare pain that nothing will take away. I’m stuck here on this Sunday waiting for it to be Monday so that I can call my Dr. and see if something has went wrong. It’s Daylight Savings Time and the clocks got pushed forward in the middle of the night so that adds to the weirdness of my day too as it does with darn near everyone, I’m sure. While I don’t feel well I tend to entertain myself with my phone and doing a lot of browsing on social media and such. I don’t even know why I keep doing this because I almost always get grouchy these days with the stuff that I read online. I wonder what’s happening in the world and why is everyone being so mean and hurtful? It seems like the world I knew as a kid and even just twenty years ago has just slipped away and turned into this hateful ugly place. I notice it most while I’m here in Alaska. Although I’m not living in my hometown I do keep up with the news and have a multitude of friends over there on the island. That town and those people…they helped me raise my daughters…I became an adult there in Kodiak and have always given that island credit for helping me to become a rational and responsible adult even though it was a very tough place to raise children on my own. The people there stepped up and helped me when I was in need, I have two ex-husbands over there and Rick and I met there as teens. I’ve always considered Kodiakans to be my people. I can’t grasp the negativity I feel from that place these days. They have their own social media pages and I joined ten years ago and have always enjoyed knowing what was going on and seeing the beauty of the island and those who choose to live there. Today I sit here disgusted at the moral low ground I see on a daily basis from that beautiful place. People calling each other names because of their political opinions, bashing each other personally when in fact what they are arguing about is something nobody can change no matter what they do. I’ve removed myself from their hate filled sites now just to give myself a little bit of peace of mind. The new President has brought about much hatred all over the world from people who claim that they don’t want to live in a world full of hatred…yet they’re the ones calling each other profanities and destroying property and just losing their freaking minds over the smallest things. The President doesn’t really have anything to do with Kodiak except that it seems as if the whole world is out of control right now and it maybe seems more prevalent to me when it comes to Kodiak because it is such a small and secluded town. I don’t like it.

A part of me feels as if I’m ill equipped to deal with the stuff going on up here in Alaska surrounding me. Not that I’m different or better or any crazy thing like that, but more-so I am just not on the same level of angry or mean that is going on here. I don’t do well with mind games and dishonesty. The Lord made me the way that I am and I actually went through a lot of struggle and a lot of years of working on myself deep inside to become the kind of person who is honest and loyal. I haven’t always been the way I am now. I have done a lot of terrible things in my past. I’ve lied and I’ve hurt people and I’ve caused some destruction with others feelings and hearts along the way. I did though start to focus on myself and made an outright attempt to right the wrongs in my personality and the way that I treat people and deal with the world. Ten or fifteen years later it’s just become natural to me to tell the truth and even when it’s a hurtful truth I’ve become accomplished at finding a kind and tactful way of presenting it. I don’t expect everyone to do this but I can use it as an example of how I’m not carrying the right armor to be here in this cold state with all of the things taking place that just stab at my heart and make me question if being a good and honest person is even a good idea anymore. I feel so alone here. I cannot find a single soul that is like me. I just try to keep my mind on home, Idaho, and my family and the happiness that they have in their hearts and in their lives. I try to bring up my grandbabies sweet happy faces when I’m feeling so upended. I feel myself being weird and I don’t even know how to stop it. I feel myself shutting down and putting up thick walls around myself…I hear myself talking and pretending that I’m just living my life but in reality that’s not what’s happening at all. Inside everything is screaming that I need to get away from here before this place destroys me. I don’t want to become bitter and dishonest and grumpy. I’m a laugher…I crave silliness and sunshine. I can’t handle the judging, the insults, the deception that comes from the people that I used to admire and to love. I’m not sure how things got so bad yet here they are. The world has turned ugly and nobody even seems to notice. I notice though and it stresses me out especially when it comes from a place that has until this year been the comfort zone of my life.

I replay scenes from my real life…my life before the surgeries and the pain and the wreckage took over. The smell of my backyard on a summer evening…the sound of the frogs that I could never find but always hear. My dogs wandering around wherever I went…moving the sprinklers around the lawn in the setting sun so that my grass stayed green. Imagine that: there was a time in my life when my problem was the lawn remaining green throughout the entire summer…keeping up with the Jones’. I constantly think about going to bed at night and the routine the dogs and I went through and then the safe knowledge that I was in my own bed in my own home and everything was right in the world. I want that back. I want to hear my grandsons come in the back door and bake them cookies and walk around looking for cool rocks and bugs. I so miss that I could walk out the back door and hop into my car and drive away…to anywhere and wherever. I had such an optimistic and bright view of the world and although many tragedies had taken place in my life I was still able to see the good and to be grateful for any little thing. I want that person back and yet that is the woman who can’t handle this body and this life and the harshness of Alaska and it’s people. I thought I was strong then and maybe I was but I’m just not now and honestly it pisses me off. I feel like I need a hand, a step up and darn break…and yet I know it’s not going to come from this place or these people or myself in these surroundings. It’s just so frustrating and I don’t know what to do so I just pray and ask the Lord to guide me and sometimes I imagine that even He is tired of me and my requests and my poor outlook on the future and life in general. I’ve felt Him leading me my entire life and yet today I feel as if I can’t feel Him or hear Him and I wonder what is going on in my world that the Lord seems so distant when He’s been my constant companion for forty-plus years. I need to get moving and get better so I can get up and do what needs to be done. I don’t belong here. It’s been an awful couple of days and I know that it shows in every aspect of who I am….my face, my attitude, my responses to people around me…the way I’m loving and being loved in return. Something is just not right in the world right now and I find myself right now again asking the Lord to take me home. My real home…to live with him and to be able to put all of this to rest. I just want to be…to live without physical and mental pain. No tricks. No lies. No deceptions or backstabbing. No anger or hatred. I want beauty and peace and to be with people who love me as I love them. Sounds like Heaven to me.


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…I don’t know…



Hells Canyon Idaho/Washington border (2015)

You know how it is; you look at a picture and you can remember everything about that exact moment…the smell and sounds of your environment…how you were feeling and even what took place later on that same day. I do that with this picture of us, and this is just one of at least 500. I’m a big picture-taker. I pretty much document every single day of my life at least once a day but most of the time numerous times a day. I recently sent the pictures from my current phone to my PC and there were 17,000 pictures to move over. I’ve not even had this phone for a year yet. I think sometimes that I just really love life and the world and I never want to forget…anything, no matter how good or bad it is. This particular picture is a good memory and today it makes me sad but I love it. I enjoy remembering days in my life that were splendid. I’ve had so many and I feel extremely grateful for that. My life has been good. Beautiful. The last few years have not been so awesome, but it’ll come back eventually: my beautiful life.

I have so many things going on right now…my closest cousin, who is truly my cousins child which makes her my second cousin, is the only one in my family near my age. As I’ve said before my dad was the last of seven kids and I am the last of his four children so my closest cousin, Mel….her grandpa was my dad’s oldest brother. This is why we are two generations apart yet the same age…she is 47 and I am 48. When we were teens in Kodiak we spent a lot of time together as her dad(my cousin) and my dad were very close. They’d visit and her and I would hang out and run around and be teenagers together and I basically just truly love her. She’s the only member of my extended family that I know in person as a matter of fact. All of our other family lives on the east coast and I haven’t lived east of Utah since I was 13 years old. So, she was recently diagnosed with lung cancer. She was being treated for Bronchitis and it wouldn’t clear up and then they discovered cancerous lesions in her lungs, similar to skin cancer (carcinoma) but on the outside layer of her lungs. She’s been in the hospital for 11 days getting radiation. As a matter of fact her mom just sent me a text as I was writing this and said that Mel is going to go home today. That’s great news and I’m so happy that she is seeing an upturn as this has been an extremely hard time for her and I haven’t been being the cousin and friend that I should’ve been being…during this hospital stay or before. I get so caught up in my own issues and get so low that I just can’t bring myself to socialize. I hate trying to act normal or like I’m breezy and happy when every minute is just tortuous for me, physically and mentally. It’s selfish and I know it but I also know that I do so much in my life that is not even remotely selfish that I just let myself have this one. I let my anxiety and depression decide when I voluntarily go visit people. Probably not the right thing to do but I do it anyways. I’m tired of being strong. Just completely wiped out and am trying my best to just hang on and take life day by day.

Besides Mel being sick, and my own spinal diseases…my medical procedures….My oldest daughter is getting ready to have a baby any day now. This beautiful blessing of grandchildren is the most amazing and gracious thing the Lord has ever given me. I completely adore my grandchildren. She will be number five. The second granddaughter for me. I’d love to have ten or fifteen grandkids hahahaha, but I only have two children so I probably won’t get that many. I can probably count on still being fairly young when I become a great grandma. My oldest grandson is 11 now and in 20 years I’ll be 68…so….there is plenty of time left in my life to have grandbabies. I ridiculously love being a grandma and those children are without any doubt my most favorite people alive in the world today. I’ve been mentally preparing myself to leave Rick behind and go back to my family and that’s why I keep sitting down to write. It’s like I don’t want to actually go to the place in my heart that needs to write about this part of my life, so I just ramble on about everything else as well as nothing. I’ll miss the birth of my fifth grandbaby and this will be the first time that I haven’t been there. I watched my first two grandsons actually come into the world…oh my goodness I cried so much…such a beautiful experience. The youngest boy…well I was watching the big boys when he was born but we went in the room as soon as he was born…my two other grandsons and I so we got to all experience him in all of his newborn glory. He’s a great little toddler now. He’s the easiest child I’ve ever been near…so happy and easy to please. Then came my granddaughter, the first child of my youngest daughter. Amazing little silly-pants. I was in the waiting room when she was born. I didn’t get to experience her actual birth. I wouldn’t expect my daughters to do anything other than what makes them completely comfortable and happy in such a huge time in their lives, so I was ok waiting outside the room. She has brought much love and silliness into our family, good grief she is a beautiful kind hearted little love. And now there will be another baby girl and every time the phone rings I think it’s my girl calling to tell me she’s at the hospital. I wish I could be there.

I do know that when I leave here and leave “us” behind that I have to have it in my head that this is all real and there is no turning back. If I hold on to him even slightly I won’t be able to be present for my family, and if I’m going to be with them I want to be fully present the same as I used to be when my life was normal and happy. It’s tough right now because I’m here and he’s here and I feel as if he’s not taking it seriously; he’s thinking that I’m just being quiet or trying to punish him or whatever kind of thoughts go though his mind. I don’t know. I thought I knew him. That’s what’s so tough. In our pictures we’re happy and it looks legit. We have hundreds of pictures from the last two years and in every one of them we look happy. We look like we love each other. And although I have all of this other stuff going on in my life right now…this is what my mind is having a hard time with. Love is an important part of my life. Even more-so because I’m such a loner and I tend to not let people get close to me. When I let someone in, and as far into my heart that he is…it becomes a major thing in my life. And this has been major and ending it is huge and I hate it and I wish he’d make some sort of move to stop it. The day that he let her back into his life I lost him. It’s like when he heard her voice a switch got flipped and he took off into ugly land and hasn’t returned. I’ve talked and cried and thought and pondered and…everything I know to do trying to figure it out. He has issues from his past experiences and I’ve known that from day one. We worked for an entire year on getting him to a place in his own mind where he could relax and be happy and show kindness and love again. It all got erased when he talked to her on the phone. It’s very hurtful and I can’t believe that I’m even writing about it because it truly causes my heart to just ache and tears to spring up in my eyes and this is why I can’t stay.

The things that I’ve heard about her are not good. The things I hear from everyone, and I do truly mean every single person from out small hometown who knows her. Not one person has a good word to say about this woman. I’ve even given her the benefit of the doubt and tried to keep an open mind in regards to the kind of person that she is. I tried to tell myself that if he loved her there must’ve been something there that maybe other’s didn’t see. Now I understand that her being unable to relate to other people is what draws him to her. That and she presents herself as a victim in every circumstance in her life and apparently men really like this and like to be the super hero and save women. I don’t know though as he won’t really talk about it anymore. Not since the betrayal that took place. It doesn’t make any kind of sense to me…all I’ve heard about her from him is bad, horrible stuff. I’m not the kind of woman that likes to tear down other women. I have many times tried to understand why she is the way she is and when he has told me the horrible things I’ve tried to actually make excuses for her. I’m just dumb and compassionate that way…always so concerned with other people and trying to figure out why people do what they do. But this woman…she got him into serious trouble with the Dept. of Corrections by smoking and keeping weed in their apartment. He doesn’t smoke but she does and he is still paying for her actions today in his life with me. He used to leave their home and go sleep in his car. He still has the blanket that he bought for the car and I’ve heard the stories even from his own family members about how he’d drive up the mountain and sleep just to get away from her. She has four different children from who knows how many different men and one being his own cousin, yes they shared a girl (nice). I’ve heard about these young men hitting her and assaulting her and the crazy loud and chaotic household they all lived in during their five years of being together. He’s told me that he sometimes hated to even look at her and that everything from her coughing fits in the morning to her loud open-mouthed chewing pushed him to the brink every day. He told me that he explained to everyone that he ‘quote’ “Was just riding it until the wheels fell off” in regards to their marriage and the two of us often thanked the Lord for finally getting him out of a situation like that.

So then two years later while I’m out of town a text from her and then 30 minutes of video chatting and hours of messaging turns him into this ugly negative man who doesn’t seem to care if I stay or go. When I discovered his indiscretion, in the midst of it happening, I was beyond flipped out and I thought that we fixed it because by now I thought that we were an “us”. I thought our relationship was us and that it was beautiful and I even understood in a weird sort of psychological way how the entire thing happened. When we talked in the days between that happening and me coming back I felt as if we’d decided that he’d been an idiot and together we would work through it and although it completely tore at my heart I was willing to come back and be us again. And I did. And I’ve tried. And it hasn’t worked. She called again and messaged again and he lied about the phone calls, albeit he didn’t answer them yet he did lie about who he was not answering the phone to. There was another big fiasco and she kept calling and I started screaming and I told him to answer the fu**ing phone!!! So he did and he put her on speaker and he told her that he wasn’t leaving me and she went into a five minute long one sided dialog about what a victim she is and how he does so many things to her that aren’t right and how she believes that he and I were together before she walked out of their marriage which is not even close to being true as I was living in Idaho and he was here in Alaska. So she wasn’t going to stop talking but when she paused to get her breath I said her name and she flipped out and hung up. It was quite the morning…let me tell you. Not one of my most favorite moments in life. Later in the day we went for a drive and I asked him if he felt like he finally got some closure, because this was his unending excuse when it came to her…he needed real closure. So he said yeah, it’s closed. And proceeded to act as if I am not even here with him in this apartment anymore. I mean we interact but at about the level of room mates who aren’t friendly with each other much. And Since I returned and more so after the last phone call I’ve wandered around the apartment talking to myself and trying to convince my parakeet to be my best friend. Day after day he sits there messing with his phone doing God only knows what. I talk…nothing. I ask him a question…nothing. Sometimes throughout the days he interacts with me but usually not. And it started to get to me and my mind started wandering and it seemed as if he were sulking, like perhaps he was mad because I’d made him talk to her like that. He has continuously said that he doesn’t want to be mean to her. In my mind I’m thinking…why is it ok to be mean to me? I’m not the one being sneaky. I didn’t smoke weed and get him in trouble. I don’t make him go sleep in the car. I came back after he lied and betrayed me just to make his ex wife happy. And the worst part is that when I want him to understand this he gets really angry and either ignores me for days as a punishment or argues loudly with me about my inability to accept the past…or that I’m jealous of her…or that I’m thinking too much. Anything but…I’m sorry that I let you down. I’m sorry that I hurt you and what can I do to make it better. Somehow in his mind all of this is my fault and I should just let it go by the wayside and be happy. And you know what’s truly awful is that I would. I was trying to let it go. He doesn’t understand that his total switch in character is the reason why it’s still here. Haunting me. And by now I know that we can’t go back. He won’t react to me like he does to her because I refuse to be a victim. I have actually been the victim here and I still refuse to play that role. I guess he can go save her again and they can have their chaotic life together again.

I don’t want this. I need to do this. For myself, for my heart…so that I can heal and become the happy woman I was before I felt his love and lost it.



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…relationship status…



I’m 48 years old. Today I found myself posting this on my Facebook page:

I just want y’all to know because I hate trying to hide stuff. Rick and I are no longer…a couple. We’re basically just biding our time until I can get my spine fixed then I’ll head back home. While I was in Idaho for the holidays he told his ex-wife, Tia, that he didn’t love me… wasn’t going to marry me… and made plans with her to get rid of me. Yeah. Hurts much. 

After I returned he called her and told her that he didn’t really mean it 😏:

So basically now since I can’t seem to put it behind me… I no longer trust…after many arguments about it…. I’m done.

I do not want sympathy and I do not want to talk about it. I just want the truth to be out there so I don’t have to try and pretend that things are ok with us. 

Her and I both were deeply hurt by these actions. I just want to be with people who love me…and be peaceful and happy. So… there you have it. 

I’m an idiot when it comes to men. Always have been always will be.

Yep…I’m beyond the point of playing games and going into and out of relationships yet here I am with this as a status and I know it’s much too personal to put out there for the public to see and it might even be a sort of cry for help on my part. I don’t even care anymore. I’m tired of the bs I’ve been living in and dealing with and with feeling stuck here in Alaska because Idaho can’t give me medical insurance or even give me back some of the money that I gave the government in my 34 years of working and giving them a share of each and every paycheck. I’m tired of men deceiving me and lying to me and I’m tired of myself for falling for it time after time after time! I mean it’s been 30+ years that I’ve been a woman in the world and yet here I am in yet another dead relationship and trying to figure out how exactly a person makes it happen without putting up with a bunch of crap. What gives?

I mean…this time I truly with every ounce of my being believed that this was a special relationship. I have even entertained the thought that the Lord placed me here so that I could finally feel real love from a man other than the Lord himself. I feel foolish and wish I hadn’t given so much of the good parts of me to someone who was just bullshitting me in the first place. Seriously I must be easy prey. It’s ridiculous. And the thing is that in reality I have done very well in my life on my own and without a man. I’m well aware that I can and I have done great things solo in my life. I raised children alone. I like being alone and when my last relationship was falling apart I just let it and we ended without anybody even realizing that we were done. I think the two of us didn’t even know although we didn’t sleep in the same bed or even the same bedroom. We hadn’t had sex in years and I knew he was looking elsewhere for his desires. We just lived like that and it was kind of OK. He needed a place to live and I needed someone to do stuff like mow the lawn and fix the faucets…so we just did us in that manner. I didn’t feel like I was in a relationship although now I do understand that I hurt him deeply when I left and I truly didn’t mean to do that. I thought that he wasn’t caring about us….like I wasn’t caring. Sometimes I guess its me that gets hurt and sometimes it’s the other in my relationships. Such is life I suppose.

So I came here to Alaska and he showed me beautiful love. Such comforting sweetness that it was hard to believe that it was true. Now I guess I understand that it wasn’t true. He’s much better at playing games than I am. I never seem to realize a game is being played until it’s too late and someone gets an eye poked out. Somehow in my life …while I was developing I missed out on something. I’m too soft, too naïve about human nature and the things that people will do to each other to satisfy their own selves. Just yesterday I found that someone I’m pretty close to was involved in a murder on Valentines day. !! A murder! I believed that she was a great young woman. She used to hug me and cry and talk to me about wanting to get her life on track but not knowing how to do it. I fell for it with her too. I loved and cared and gave too much. I helped her get Medicaid so that she could go to a treatment center…I counselled her and told her how much I believed in her. And I truly did and I prayed for her and asked the Lord to help her. I believed that she was lost and hurting and that I could love her into a better life. She purposefully led a man to his death last week. If someone would’ve asked me if she were capable of this type of cold-hearted act I would’ve said absolutely not. No question. In my mind she just needed someone to love her. Someone’s gone from this world now because of her! How could I not see something that cold in a person? It blows my mind. Not that I could’ve stopped her from doing what she did, but I do feel a little stupid for believing in her so whole heartedly. I am completely gullible and I don’t know how to stop that part of myself from ruining every single thing that I try to do with myself. I do it time and time again. Very few people ever live up to the person I tell myself that they are. I do have some great and honest friends that basically struggle with this same thing in life, but not many that are in my day to day life. I’m an extreme loner almost reclusive and this is most likely why. I don’t know who to trust or how to stop myself from giving my heart away to every person that looks my way. The ones that I do trust and love are so completely special to me that I’d take a bullet for them in a second. I’d give absolutely anything for those in my life who treat me the way that I treat them. It’s just mind-blowing when I discover that a person I thought was in this group…was a traitor the entire time. I don’t blame myself although I’m sure it sounds like that’s exactly what I’m doing here. I know that there is no way to tell when people are being honest or not and when my heart gets involved I know that I overlook telltale signs simply because it feels better to do it that way.

So I’m here and I’ve decided that I’m leaving. I need to get some medical procedures done on my neck; one of which is scheduled for next week and then probably the other one about two weeks out. After that I’m going to go back home. My oldest daughter is always so willing to come to my rescue and what kind of mother even needs that from her child anyhow?? I am not an abuser of drugs…in fact I fight my doctors tooth-and-nail about taking any kind of medication…to the point where they throw up there hands and ask me why I came to see them if I don’t want help. I don’t drink alcohol….hard to believe in todays world but true none the less. I have never even smoked a cigarette. I’m not the kind of mother that made my kids take care of me when they were little while I was drunk. I’ve never been that type of a mother. I have been the type of mom that has had one bad relationship after another though. And since my surgeries and the subsequent falling apart of my life I’ve just been a hot mess and my daughters have to witness it and my oldest keeps rescuing me and although I’m grateful beyond words it tears me up that she has to rescue me these days. My major life plan was to provide for both of them regardless of how old they became. I was doing well for years but the day I was wheeled into surgery in Lewiston was the day I stopped being able to be that mom anymore. It cracks my heart right open. I want to be a perfect mother until the day that I die. I don’t want to burden them with my issues. But I’m kind of stuck. I’ve gotten myself into a pretty big hole and can’t seem to get out of it on my own. My body is broken, I have no income what-so-ever, three years later I’m still going through the motions of getting disability and now the person who I thought was going to just help me and love me through it all is disappearing right before my very eyes.

So this is life. It does not get better with age. You do not become wiser or more prepared to deal with stuff as you age. It’s the same old same old same thing. I know about the same as I did when I was five years old when it comes to people and who are out to get me and who are true. When I was a kid I was so afraid that I’d be kidnapped. It was my greatest fear and I’d worry at night that some unknown kidnapper was prowling around outside my bedroom window planning on taking me away from my mom. I always wanted one of our animals in my bedroom because I always imagined that they’d let me know if something weird was going on. Needless to say I never got kidnapped but I did pray for the children that I saw on the news that were. Still today I imagine that it must be the scariest thing a person could experience as a kid. Today I don’t think I’ll get kidnapped. Today as an adult I’ve wandered around the United States by myself with no fear of being abducted or taken advantage of. I somehow assume that all people are good and that the only people being kidnapped are kids. This has zero to do with anything besides that the one thing I have learned from being alive for so long is that I don’t need to be afraid of creepers outside my bedroom. I mean I do need to be aware…but I’m not afraid anymore. I just imagine that if it happened I’d find a way to deal with it. I’m extremely good at knowing what to do in emergency situations. I’ve got that stuff down. I actually think I’m at my very best in high stress, fast moving situations. It’s these slowly falling apart things that get me all caught up in not knowing what to do or where to turn and if I can’t talk to get stuff out of my head it just gets uglier and uglier until it explodes in my mind. This is the reason why I write. I just need to get this stuff out of my mind so that I can plan my next move. My next move is to get away from here and get myself back to the people who love me.

I’m such a mess it’s truly hard to believe that this is me, the same me that enrolled in college at age 45…the same person who drove 2,000+ miles to get away from Alaska and take my daughters to the real world where they could get educations and careers and have a real-life experience…the same woman who found a way to deal with a very violent relationship that ended with a man in prison and me battered and bruised…the same woman who went to the library every day to try to figure out what makes women stay with men who are abusive. I’m the same person yet much weaker and much less able to pick myself up and get things going in a better direction and it doesn’t help that I don’t like to let people know if I’m having problems. I broke down today and asked my daughter to help me come up with a plan. And I posted on Facebook the truth of what has happened in my life with this man whom I’ve advertised all over the place as the best man…the most loving man…the man with the kindest heart. Fooled yet again! Good grief!

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…me as a kid…





Me and Susan 1974/1975


I always remember myself as a chubby kid. I remember being unsure of myself and feeling somehow inadequate at everything….then I go thru the handful of pictures that I have from my childhood and I see myself thru my adult eyes. I see that I wasn’t chubby and there was really no reason to feel inadequate or less-than. I was a beautiful girl with that bushel of blonde unruly hair and tan skin. I was a sweet and kind girl and liked to make people laugh. Always the humor…especially when we had moved or I was starting at a new school or trying to make friends in a new town. Humor lightened the mood and helped me to become accepted when I was presented with unknowns. It helped me inside you know? I’ve always been a pretty funny person and I’m not sure where that came from. I wasn’t raised in a particularly funny family although my oldest sister Kim had a great sense of humor and still does. Still today humor is a large part of my life and thankfully my grown daughters and especially my grandchildren enjoy laughing and being silly as well. Silliness, laughing at myself, talking in strange accents and making up songs about everything….I still do these things today and I tend to laugh even when I’m not particularly happy. I guess that comes from years of practice and by now is embedded into my personality and made me into a silly older woman.

My friend Susan was very shy. I’m sure that anyone can tell from the pictures that she was bashful and quiet. I’m pretty sure that my way of nurturing everyone and everything as an adult came from my love for Susan when we were kids. I protected her so much that teachers had to get involved and tell me to let her speak on her own and to not answer questions for her. But I knew how much she hated talking in public; she was incredibly shy, and she’d whisper to me and I’d tell people what she was saying. It worked well for us, but adults didn’t seem to like it. It’s funny too that we only lived in Florida for five years and I think we lived there for about a year before I met Susan. In my mind she was so much a part of my childhood that it seems like she was in it for more than just a few years. We’d moved to Lakeland from New York state at the beginning of my very first year of school: kindergarten. That move wasn’t particularly tough for me in any way that I can remember and it started an endless array of new school, new homes and new friends until my dad died in Alaska when I was 15. Somehow I managed to accept that as a normal part of being a kid and to this day I truly enjoy traveling and moving and experiencing new things…people….foods…cultures. I thank my dad for that even when my sisters talk about it like the moving about was the worst part of being raised in our family. I didn’t mind it and right now can think of so many other things in our family that were truly much worse than moving. I liked it. I didn’t like it when I made a good friend though and had to say Good-bye.

Susan and I wrote to each other for years after we left Florida….as we moved to Utah and then back to Alaska. Even now she is my friend on social media. She lives in a completely different world than I do. The last I knew her husband was running for Mayor of their town in Texas and she had two small sons while I was already on grandchildren. She was an only child and she lived a pretty sweet life and I always feel very fortunate that I got to be part of her life when we were kids. Her family was everything I wanted and then some. Her parents took me with them everywhere and I got to experience so many different things that wouldn’t have been possible in my own family of four kids. We spent summers at Country Clubs and while her parents played endless games of tennis we’d swim and order food and pretend that we were cops, or the Bradys (Marsha and Cindy)…we both had crazy imaginations and we’d climb trees and yell out for King Kong to come see us. Hahahaha. We could turn playground equipment into darn near anything but our favorite was horses. We’d become cowboys and I always named my horse “Wildfire” after the 70s song about the horse by the same name. We’d be free all day long and her parents would meet us at the pool in whichever club we were at and we’d stop for burgers on the way home.I so loved those times with Susan and her parents. They were so happy, I think , to have someone for her to run around with that they would’ve let me move in with them if my own parents had agreed. My family didn’t do stuff like play tennis or join country clubs or even go to swimming pools. My sister Wendi and I did however take swimming lessons every summer while we lived in Florida and to me that was pretty darn special. I became so good at swimming that I was placed in an advanced class with teenagers when I was only about 9 or 10 and I cried on the first day of class because I wanted to be in the swim class with my summer-time friend my own age. Hahaha…kids are funny. I should’ve been proud of myself when they did that but I just never believed in myself as a child even when success was slapping me right in the face.

We moved to five or six different houses in our years in Florida and Susan and I were always a part of each others lives no matter how close or far apart we lived. When my dad decided to move to Utah and become a Mormon (true story) we loaded up our Chevy Suburban and Susan came over to say good-bye. I still remember her waving good-bye until we were too far away to see her anymore. It was only my sister Wendi and I by then. Not only was I the youngest of four but we were all four years apart, with the exception of the two oldest who were three. My brother was off doing whatever it was he did, he was 11 when I was born so he never was a real big part of my life. Kim was a mama and living in Tennessee after she’d run away from home and got pregnant. My dad brought her home and insisted that she marry her boyfriend before they had a child and one of my moms friends performed the ceremony at someone’s house. All I remember about that day was that there was a big pool at the house and the owners let Wendi and I swim while we were there. Swimming was our favorite activity back then. So my oldest sister got married and my other sister and I went swimming to celebrate. My beautiful niece was born in Tennessee before we left Florida but I only got to see pictures of her until my dad eventually bought a bus ticket for my sister and her daughter to come to Utah about 2 years after we got there. Her marriage didn’t work out and my dad rescued her. My sister continuously describes her relationship with my dad as a bad one and says that she always felt unloved. In my child-eyes I thought that he loved her very much and he always did a heck of a lot of stuff for her and my brother that I never got from him, but then again he passed away before I even really got a chance to really get to know him.

So….there really isn’t any point to this rambling today I suppose. What I truly want to write about is what’s truly troubling my soul but I can’t get myself to write about it yet. I know that it will help me to heal but it will also mean letting go once again of someone that I love and I’m tired by now. I’ve done this my entire life and by now I am just so weary. I’ll be fifty next year. In all of my years I have not been able to keep any relationship beyond my immediate family. I have not even maintained relationships with my cousins or aunts or uncles. I’ve gracefully walked away from so many people and pretended like it didn’t hurt and went on with my life with another chunk of myself removed. People have brought so much love and happiness into my life yet I always seem to be saying good-bye. I don’t want to this time because I want to stop now. I want to keep somebody in my life that doesn’t share blood and genetics with me. Even my sisters are virtual strangers to me. I’m tired of it. But it’s almost always inevitable. Like now. It’s coming…and I hate it and maybe if I don’t write about it I won’t have to face it. I’m just not ready yet. And if the truth of my time in Alaska gets out I will look foolish to people that I truly care about. Foolish is not the way I want to be remembered. Silly, yes. Happy, yes. Funny….not foolish. Foolish kind of means “stupid” and it has taken me all of these years to convince myself that I’m not as stupid as I was led to believe that I was during my childhood. That little girl that was so funny and kind…she was also very smart. She tutored younger children in reading while in Jr High. She swam with the big kids. She was not foolish or stupid. I don’t want to start appearing as if she is now as an old lady.


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     When I was leaving Lewiston (again) in December I felt like I was doing the right thing for myself and my health and just my life in general. I don’t like to be away from my daughters or my grandchildren, but I felt that coming back to Alaska was the right thing to do and that it was still temporary. So much has happened in the short time that I’ve been back that I’ve basically come to the conclusion that I just don’t really know how to make decisions for my life anymore. I truly miss having a job and having that be my reason to not make irrational decisions. But in any case I’m here, I’m getting treatment for my spine that I can’t get down there and well I’m still alive. That’s gotta mean something. 

When I was at the airport leaving Lewiston I went thru security early and missed the chance to say good-bye to my only granddaughter. I’m so spastic about stuff and being early everywhere that I go and I missed her. I can only hope that she understands that I would wait for her forever in any situation if I know she is going to be there. But my hurry to get thru security led me to miss her and my daughter both and led me to be one of the first people to find a seat in that area. The Lewiston airport is small so there’s almost always seats available anyhow, it’s simply anxiety that makes me want to get in there early. So I sat down and saw a guy that I used to date come in and sit down across from me. He had a crazy foot-fetish when we dated and had recently been widowed. We’d only dated for about 3 months and it was the first time I’d seen him in probably 10 years. Then a nun came in and sat next to me. It sounds like I’m beginning to tell a joke; doesn’t  it? In walked my ex-boyfriend and a nun hahaha. Anyhow, there was nothing funny about it at the time but I think about that moment a lot these days especially because of the happenings as of late. The nun was older and I actually knew her from when I worked at the hospital and I knew her name was Margaret. I’m certain she didn’t recognize me, but I did her. I noticed her first because she was wearing the hat that nuns wear, then I noticed that she was sitting so properly with her feet flat on the floor and he back straight. I was a little envious that she could sit there like that because there is no way that I can sit like that for even one minute straight… I have to move around and adjust and keep my legs at certain angles to keep my back from hurting. I liked that she was sitting like that and I found myself wishing that I were more like her; proper, you know? And then she took a sandwich out of a little brown paper bag; the kind of bag my mom used to put my lunch in when I was a kid and I hated it because all of my friends had cute plastic lunch pails and I had to use a brown bag. She very properly opened the sandwich and using both hands started eating it with the tiniest bites and still sitting in her properly aligned way. I was in awe of her and I was trying to sneak peeks without outright staring at her. I was thinking that she probably feels people staring at her all of the time, simply because it’s obvious that she’s a nun. They’re not so plentiful like they used to be when I was a kid. I was feeling such an overwhelming sort of admiration for her…with her food she brought from home and her dainty way of eating.  Almost everyone at any airport across America can be seen eating vending machine food or fast food… food court food. I myself was digging into a box of Milk Duds. How was she so controlled I wondered. How much she must truly believe in the Lord and in herself to be living this way intentionally…. willingly. It amazes me still. I am a lover of the Lord myself. There is zero doubt in my mind that Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior. I always talk with Him no matter where I am or what I’m doing. I have a nonstop conversation going on with the Lord in my mind 24 hours a day.  I sometimes feel as if He’s my best friend and I try my best to listen to what He tells me and to live my life in a way that will be pleasing to Him and I both. Knowing all of this about myself and my relationship with God…. I still am amazed at her depth of passion. It was obvious at the airport and obvious at the hospital when I was working that she is very devoted to the Lord and her beliefs. Doesn’t she ever get hurt? Has she ever gotten her heart broken? And if so how has she dealt with it? I wonder to myself if she prays, or talka to someone about it when she feeks despair? Does she keep it all in her head?What does she do? 

When I was working at the hospital it was a Catholic organization owned by the nuns. She was actually the head of the board of directors. Her and a few other nuns had to approve all business that took place there in regards to funding and such. I know from personal  experience that if a person had a huge hospital bill and couldn’t afford to pay it they’d write if off simply because you asked. This was a beautiful gift to me when I was in dire straights and I’ve never forgotten. A different organization came in while I was still an employee and took over and eventually bought out the nuns. I remember that Margaret was still there; she had a little office there, but she didn’t hold any weight when it came to decisions anymore. This is my perspective anyhow. And I think to myself that her heart must have hurt so much at that time. The hospital stopped being charitable and started running things based upon financial gain only. How did she handle that so gracefully? I’d see her often in the hallways and she always had the same contained and controlled way about her. It’s mystifying to me…when I’m upset people who don’t even know me can tell. My face shows every emotion I have. When I’m sad I tend to not eat and I lose weight, I don’t make eye contact with others when I’m sad. When I’m mad I talk a lot and even if I’m not projecting that I’m angry my voice gets really loud and I move around quickly hahaha. I’m very easy to read. If I had become a nun when I was young and still pure…how would I have managed to reel that in? Is it faith in the Lord? I have much faith yet still my emotions get the best of me. I mean, we’re all just people. We all feel and love and get angry don’t we? I admire her for being able to hold it together so well. I wish I could be like her. I wish that I could sacrifice and love and be kind without feeling hurt if I don’t get it back. I do sacrifice a lot for the people that I love and that is honestly true. I was a young single mom and that in itself taught me everything I ever wanted or needed to know about sacrifice and the rewards that come from it. I willingly put myself last in almost every situation I encounter in life these days. I have not always been this way, it’s come about as I’ve gotten older and as my walk with the Lord has gotten longer. I’m absolutely okay with sacrificing myself but I am so ridiculously sensitive that I can only do so much sacrificial living until it just hurts too darn much to continue. And I don’t really need any kind of certain outcome to be happy with the way I treat others. I like to be kind. It makes me truly happy to see other people happy and to help others see themselves the way the Lord sees them. I enjoy that. But when I sacrifice my own feelings and especially my heart for someone elses gain I do start getting worn down and end up becoming a mess of heart and tears and emotionality lying on they ground. What is this nuns secret?

So she sat there and ate her sandwich and I looked across the aisle and I saw my ex-boyfriend with his cell phone pointing directly at me and I knew that for some reason he was videoing me and I smiled. He put his phone lower and looked over at me… smiled, and picked it back up and kept at it. And in my mind I immediately wondered who he was going to show this video to and kind of worried because I always look so weird in videos and I didn’t want anyone to see me like that. All the while still pondering how the nun was able to be so controlled. And right now I just thought to myself, as I’m writing this, that maybe she’s never experienced things such as ex-boyfriends… weird memories with someone else that only the two of you know about…knowing how someone in an airport looks naked even though nobody else there has any idea that you know each other. My life has not always been lived like it is now. I haven’t always been a grandma and I haven’t always wanted to return myself to purity before. I didn’t  even realize this until just this second. I’ve tried to be a good and honest woman. I’ve tried my best to treat people with love. But behind closed doors I was a woman with numerous boyfriends. I knew that the guy sitting across from me liked to kiss women’s toes (eek)…. I’d taken a bath with the guy sitting there. We did not even say hello to each other at the airport even though we’d had numerous intimate moments together in the past. And that is where I am different and I am not contained with my emotions. I did taste the forbidden fruit. I did indulge in all things of the flesh….things that had no benefit what so ever beyond pure pleasure at the moment. I was sitting there wondering why I couldn’t get to that same spiritual place as Margaret and now I understand… I had been lost once. I have been hurt and used and I’ve played where I shouldn’t have played. I’m thinking that once you go there….even if you come back….even if you regret it all….once you go there a part of you stays there forever. The Lord forgives. I know this with no doubt. He forgives. He made us, He knows all of weaknesses and all of our strengths. Satan knows where we’re weak as well. I know that the majority of people that I know don’t believe that Satan exists. I do. I think he does and he scares me. I try to walk as close to the Lord as I can to stay safe from Satan and his clutches. And I believe that I followed him in my past…and I didn’t do it intentionally…he made things look so enticing and I lept right into his den. I have since then asked the Lord for forgiveness. I have accepted Jesus as my Lord and Savior. I know He’s there and I know He forgives and loves me. Nothing can ever take that away from me now. But I do believe that it comes at a cost…once you’ve hung out with the one who wants to destroy you he keeps a part of you…just in case he catches you in a weak moment…he can pull out this part of you and try to win you back. I believe this with everything that I am. And just now I realized that this is what makes it hard for me to be contained. Its difficult to completely give myself to the Lord simply because all of me is not here at any given moment in time. I left a smidgen of me back in the dark, in the past and I hadn’t come to terms with that until right this moment. All that I am, all that I have.. I have given to God. That doesn’t mean that He has a complete untarnished version of me. He has the broken, battered leftovers. I’m crying right now. That He would take me back and love me. That to Him I am just as precious as Margaret. I am not controlled. I cry and I get angry. I let my heart make decisions and I let my head dwell on bad decisions. I’m not as perfectly contained but I am still a child of God. I so admire her and I admit that I do not know her walk with the Lord or what her past contains. I am almost certain that she didn’t know what any of the men in the airport that day looked like naked. I can safety assume that. And oh how I wish that I didn’t either. Her strength gives me strength and I probably should’ve told her this. Knowing that there are people in the world who love the Lord this much makes me feel like there is still hope for us all. I’m not perfect but nobody is expecting me to be but me. My Savior was sacrificed so that people like me can have ever-lasting life. Our maker gave us free will. He knows who I am. And he knows who Margaret is. Thankfully we aren’t accepted into His Kingdom based upon how well we behaved while we are lost. We are accepted into His Kingdom because we know that we were lost…I know that I don’t deserve the blessings He’s given me. That doesn’t  stop him from giving them to me. Yeah… He isn’t expecting me to be Margaret. I’m Ada. I am a child of God and Margaret is my sister. I will thank her. I’m thinking I will send her an email at the hospital. I will find her and tell her about my admiration for her. And I thank the Lord once again for giving me this gift of blind writing as a way to get my thoughts under control. Funny how that works huh? When the entire point of my writing started out as me having no control. Amen. I love the Lord. 

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