The hardest thing to get used to is the isolation. I have taken to walking everywhere I can. Yesterday, I got in 22,333 steps. I am getting close to that today. I do have to get in some walks at 3, 4, and 5p. I got a FitBit that keeps me pushing. I also joined with others to do challenges. I won the challenge yesterday despite straining my calf muscle and being bothered with an old injury to my left foot from when an alpaca kicked me.
On my birthday, I got in 22,949 steps. Most of that came about from my challenge to recreate the walk I did as a child from St Patrick’s, now Good Shephard Church. When I was a child I was going to St. Patrick’s and had to stay for First Communion classes. I would have to wait at the convent until my Father came to pick me up. One day, I chose to wait at the corner. The Mother Superior kept sending kids out to tell me to get back to the convent. I decided I had enough and decided to walk the over three miles to my grandparents house. They had the cops out looking for me, but I had no problem walking downtown and finding my way to my grandparents. I got in a bit of trouble for that and needless to say, I did not return to St. Patrick’s the next year. I walked all the way out there and back. Unfortunately, I forgot my mask so I could not make any stops along the way. On the way back, I opted to retrace my steps and went to what used to be my grandparents on the corner of Oak and Bank. I touched the hedge and then walked back up the Highlands to my apartment.
I am alone now and except for seeing the neighbors outside and giving their dogs treats, I am isolated. Given I am 62 and supposedly in that danger age, I suppose it is for the best. I am a social person though, so it eats at me. I have had get togethers with my daughter and her friend Emily. We even met up and went to St. James Pub with Cate. Those events are few and far between. Most of my socialization is going to the market or the occasional chat with people I meet on my walks. So I walk.
Probably the most beneficial thing about the walking is being able to get out of my head. I listen to things around me. I hear the birds, the rustle of the leaves. I try to stay connected to everything around me. Part of my walk takes me past Little Theater. It is closed for now, but my Uncle used to be with them.
I miss entertaining people. I have no idea what Thanksgiving or Christmas will look like this year. I miss being able to have people over. I hate the isolation. So I get out and walk. I am 119 miles away from hitting 500 lifetime miles. Imagine that, walking 500 miles since I got the FitBit earlier this year. That is my life now, walking.
I have struggled over the past few weeks. I ended up in the hospital with a blood clot. I had an injury to my inner thigh, which was totally ignored as they kept saying it was due to my hormones. You are at their mercy so you have to go along. As part of that, they stopped my hormones until I can see a hematologist. Earliest I could get in is the 9th of September. So I have been deprived of my hormones since August 13th. That has really messed with me emotionally. I got to a point last week where I was ready to take my life. I am quite fortunate that I have so many friends that if I post something on Facebook like about wanting to end it, I am quickly inundated with love from everywhere. That is one of the greatest things is having a support system.
My life is complicated right now. I am separated and having to live alone and isolated. I do have neighbors that I can talk with now and then when we all gather in the quad, a grassy area in the middle of the four sections of apartments. My neighbors have dogs and I keep Greenies on hand to treat them with. I do try to get out and walk, but it took a bit to get back to where I could do the longer block as my leg has been swollen. I have to wear compression socks now and that does help a bit.
The blood clot was quite a scare. They kept telling me in the ER how I could have had a stroke or an embolism in my lung. I ended up at the ER late Wednesday night and had to stay until Friday. Don’t even get me started on my nurse. My doctor signed release orders around noon and sent them over. The nurse didn’t even print them out until almost four. I was diagnosed with Aspergers and I was in full rocking mode by the time they released me. I felt like a prisoner.
I am being told that I might have to go back on the patch as studies that I was sent said that was probably the safest method and least likely to give me clots. I would just like to be back on an even keel. I just have to hold things together until after I see the hematologist and then have my endocrinologist put me back on the patch. I was on the patch at first but switched to pills because I was working the farm and with the heat and sweat the patches would roll up or sweat off. The farm has been sold off and I work from home, so no worries on that anymore.
It still feels like I am in quicksand at times, but I am trying to keep moving forward. I am hoping we can get my hormones back in order and everything returns to some sense of normalcy, as much as can be expected in the Covid era. That hasn’t helped things as I can’t just up and go to a restaurant. I did manage to get out to St. James Pub with my daughter and her friends. That was the first time out with people in a while. I had gone to Tipsy Toboggan with my friend Jeff. We had to sit outside and it was spitting rain but we still managed to enjoy some nachos and drinks.
I just need to keep pushing forward. As many of my friends reminded me, I inspire many and need to keep going to shine as a beacon for others. One foot in front of the other.
Cindy put together another trip for us. This journey turned out so well that we decided to bring her sister and her brother-in-law along the next time. It was also good because my brother-in-law’s cousin worked in Sedona for a place called Pink Jeep tours. The best part was the side trip to the Grand Canyon!
We flew into Phoenix, I would have loved to be able to stop at Alice Cooperstown but settled for a t-shirt. I have always been a fan of Alice Cooper. Maybe next time I go there I may stop. One of the first things that greats you as you come up the road into Sedona is Bell Rock. I swear this has to be the most photographed rock. It is a beautiful red colour. We stayed at a complex right at Tlaquepaque which is the local arts place. Sedona is know as an artists mecca as well as an energy center. We met Harold and Mark there at Sedona Mystical Tours. That visit was an experience. Harold’s place was more like a museum to Egyptian mysticism. Harold even had a pyramid outside for people to sit in and recharge their energy. Harold noted my name White Wolf and brought out a wolf pelt for me to wear during our visit. I was a bit unnerved as I felt the wolf met a violent death, so I could not wear it long. A little White Dove sang which piqued Harold’s interest as he said she never did that. In Cindy’s presence it sang. So he gifted her the name White Dove. I bought her a coffee mug with white doves on it later.
The place we stayed at was great. There was the Oak Creek Brewpub right next door. I also had a friend who lived in Sedona. I was able to connect with her. It was so great to be able to meet her face to face as we had been friends online for many years going back to our days on Tribe.net.
It was interesting to walk down town and see plagues that honored many of the cowboy movie heroes that had worked in the area.
Of course the best part of the trip was the ride up Oak Creek Canyon and on up to the Grand Canyon. I have hundreds of pictures of the area. I just need to pick just a few but the pictures I post can never do justice to the majesty that one sees when you go there. That is definitely a must see!
We went up the back way so we hit the backside of the Grand Canyon first. We encountered this tower. It is a museum too.
Let me cut to the chase though, and show you some of the shots of the Grand Canyon. As I said, we repeated this the following year with my in-laws and it was also amazing. So let me share some of the vistas we saw.
As I said, there is no way my words or photography can capture the essence of this view. One other thing to note, that like our trip to New Mexico, we also saw a number of ruins. We also visited the Blow Hole of the Earth. It is located at Wupatki. There are a number of Anasazi ruins around. From the Wupatki site:
Located near the ceremonial ball court east of the major ruins, the blow hole is a crevice in the earth’s crust that creates the impression that it’s capable of breathing. It connects to an earth crack, an underground passage formed by earthquake activity in the Kaibab limestone bedrock.
It is also a must see stop. It is near the Painted Desert.
The ruins in the area are amazing, not only for their beauty but how they have mostly survived the onslaught of time. Look at how well those rock foundations were laid.
As with New Mexico, if you ever get a chance, it is well worth the time to travel to Sedona. I also would travel the back way going up Oak Creek Canyon from Sedona. This will take you to Crater Mountain. It is amazing to see the whole side in a fine black sand type material.
I hope you have enjoyed some of my memories. It has been a good many years, so hopefully I remembered things correctly.
Oh, one more thing, a few of the features of downtown is that there are a number of these formations that are named. There is even one they call Snoopy that you can see from downtown. It looks like Snoopy sleeping on his doghouse. There is just so much to see and do.
I hope to find the folder with the pics from the following year. I believe that is when Lakota, Eric, Harold, and Marc joined Cindy and I to celebrate my birthday at Oak Creek Brewpub. If I do, I will do another on Sedona as that had some amazing shots also.
I hope you enjoyed this mini-tour. As always, my heart to your heart, one heart, one spirit.
Cindy and I used to go out west a lot. She put together some fantastic trips. I want to take time to remember these times. One of the first ventures out west was to Chaco Canyon. That whole journey was an amazing trip. We started by staying at the Nora Dixon in Corrales. Cindy and Norris took really good care of us. We were pleasantly surprised when we completed our journey and found they could take us for our last night in New Mexico.
The Nora Dixon B&B was an amazing place with some great views of the mountains.
We started by staying in Corrales for a night and visiting Old Alberquerque. I hope I get the details right as this was back in 2007, so memory can be foggy at my age.
After Corrales, we traveled out to Grants to stay overnight for a venture into Chaco. I was a shaman in training back then and also studying Native American healing ways as well as Aztec medicine of Curanderismo. I felt compelled to leave a sand painting on the desert floor at Chaco. That was part of the impetus for choosing New Mexico to visit. I also wanted to visit the Dine’ Nation and go to Gallup to see the Memorial to the Code Talkers.
From Grants, we traveled into the Dine’ Nation to Crownpoint to pick up some supplies. We stocked up on water and sandwiches as we were going deep into the desert. On the way out Navajo 9 we passed a Dine’ man and turned around to pick him up. It was hot and Navajo 9 is a long road going from Crownpoint to Cuba on the other side of the reservation. It is a very barren area.
We picked up the man and found that he had just got out of jail for drunkenness. While normally that would be upsetting, given that Whites often set up liquor stores just outside the reservations to entice reservation Natives to drink. Poverty is rampant on reservations so there is not much to do. That is a whole other topic which I visited many years ago, but still exists.
We took our new friend as far as the Chaco turnoff and left him with water and some sandwiches. I want to believe that that act of kindness led to our wonderful adventures to follow.
I am so glad we got a large SUV. The road to Chaco can be quite the kidney buster. It is all dirt. The journey from Crownpoint is about 41 miles. Be sure to bring plenty of water.
When we arrived at Chaco, we first went out to one of the ruins away from all the rest. I smudged myself and took out my sands from my bag. I wanted to ensure that this spiritual part of my journey was done properly. I made an offering of tobacco to the four directions and asked that by placing the turtle on the desert floor that it would bring peace and harmony to all.
I painted this turtle on the desert floor. The colors represent the four races of man. The center panel is a mixture of all colors representing the coming together of all in peace. I feel I failed at that. I also sent this sand painting to people around the world. I painted another at High Rock in Foxboro. My prayer was that that two turtles would journey towards each other and we would find peace finally. Part of me feels I failed in my prayers, but then again, turtles are slow and one is coming from New Mexico.
Chaco was absolutely amazing. I did lose my hat in one of the ruins. I respect the ruins so I did not try to retrieve it.
What I found most amazing was that these buildings were somewhat still standing after centuries. I was really moved by it all.
We stayed as long as we dared, but we had other places to visit. We did travel out to Los Alamos and stayed at the spas at Ojo Caliente. Unfortunately, the spas made me ill. Kind of counter to their intentions, but still.
Once we left Chaco, we headed out to Gallup. That was interesting. We decided to stay at the El Rancho which was where all the stars stayed. Cindy went to check us in, they manager offered us the Presidential Suite, the Ronald Reagan room. We didn’t think we could afford it but he suggested we check it out. Wow! A huge bathroom with bidet and two chairs, double sinks, magazines, all tiled in blue. We went back and said we didn’t think we could afford that but he offered for around $90, Cindy asked about AAA and he knocked it down to $75. Yep, we took it. Had a great meal in their restaurant too.
When we left Gallup, our planned next stop was to be the Acoma Pueblo. Acoma is the oldest continuously inhabited pueblo in the US. I sometimes wonder if the spirits sought to delay us intentionally. We hit one thunderstorm after another on the way back to Acoma. It really slowed us down. By the time we got there, the last tour had left. We had to stay overnight at the Casino. I wasn’t keen on the smoke in there, but it was nice.
We headed out first thing in the morning for the tour. Unfortunately, due to the agreement I signed with the Acoma people, I cannot publicly share the pictures. Shame as I have one of a white ladder against a kiva that is an amazing pic.
We arrived at the top of the mesa and was greeted by Orlando, one of the elders. Orlando was a hoot. He pointed out a scrub pine growing out of the rock that held their rain water and told us it was the national forest of Acoma. He then pointed out the Porta-potties they had and said they were the national bank. You can make a deposit, but might not like your withdrawal. We bought a nice horsehair pot from one of the vendors. We were told the story of how Coronado thought that this was the lost city of gold. The mica used on the windows would glow gold in the sunlight. He set siege and was repelled. He told us other stories as well. It was a fascinating tour. I hope to one day return. It was spitting rain the whole time. Not a real rain, just drops here and there. As were were set to return, I gave Orlando one of my panchos to wear. You might of though I gave him my right arm. I don’t mind getting wet by rain. It is nature and I am one with it. It made him happy and that was good.
If you ever get the chance, you really need to visit this magical place. I was blessed to have visited. It led to a few other great adventures including multiple trips to Sedona. I love the area.
My recent blog may have given some wrong impressions. Sometimes I don’t choose the right words. I want to apologize to Cindy for any negative impression people may have derived from my words. It was not my intention.
One of the things that I have to work on is dwelling on the negative. It always seems to take the biggest focus. One of my advisors told me that I needed to arrest those thoughts and focus on the positive. My counselor had me read a book on rewiring your thought patterns. So the negative is on me.
The book talks about recognizing the patterns and rethinking them. It was an interesting read. It is something I am still working on. To that end though, I want to share some positive things about my life with Cindy. Cindy and I have shared many adventures together. Probably the most interesting was our honeymoon cruise.
We were to cruise to Bermuda. We were excited. Unfortunately, it was hurricane season. The island was hit by a hurricane and there was talk of us going, not to Bermuda, but to Boston. Boston?? In the end, the cruise was on. As we drew closer, there were high swells. Cindy had gotten us, what I believe was the owner’s cabin. It was a beautiful suite with a private deck. It should have been a dream adventure, but the swells from the hurricane had the floor falling out from below us. We both ended up with seasickness despite Cindy having Dramamine. I had not taken any as I lived on the water growing up in Rhode Island. We both ended up in the infirmary getting shots. Once we normalized, we were able to settle in. We enjoyed the slot machines and attended a few of the auctions. Dinner was always interesting as the ship was still dealing with the swells, so as it crested one wave and dropped, the screws (propellors) would come out of the water and vibrate everything. The steward was making it his mission in life to get me to eat one of their deserts.
We arrived at King’s Wharf to learn that the dock workers were on strike. The original plan was that our ship would move to Hamilton after a few days. That was not going to happen. The bus workers were on strike also, so transportation was lacking. We were told not to rent the scooters, but I went over and sat in the office until a two-seater became available. It took a little waiting but I got one and we were off. I believe we first headed over to Hamilton. We visited a few shops and then were off to the Crystal Caves. It took a while and we got to go over the smallest drawbridge in the world. Crystal Caves was at the other end of the island. The Caves were fascinating. I had to get over my claustrophobia as you had to descend into a hole, but the stalactites hang from the ceiling of a cave while stalagmites grow from the cave floor, which gave an amazing scene.
On our last day Cindy wanted to go to Horseshoe Bay Beach. The beach itself was a mess due to all the debris. Cindy got in her bathing suit and headed into the surf. The surf was still rough so she often got knocked down by the waves and came away with a bathing suit full of sand. We made the ship just in time to leave for our return home.
Cindy and I have shared many great adventures. I apologize if I came across negative. I owe a lot to her. She was the one who empowered me to become me. So I hope that she will accept my apology.
I need to really work on being more positive. Part of the reason that Cindy was pushing me was so that I could spread my wings and become who I really was. Unfortunately, I got caught up in negative and allowed that to eat at me. As I said, that is on me. Cindy is a wonderful person who cares a lot. I need to work on me more.
Today marks my one year anniversary of my surgery. This should be a joyful time. Instead, I find myself alone and isolated. One month before my surgery was scheduled, my wife advised me that we had come to an end. That definitely did not help my mindset going into surgery, but I dealt with it. I preoccupied myself with dotting t’s and crossing i’s to get ready for surgery. I was still working too. I had to set up FMLA, make sure all the insurance stuff was lined up. There was an awful lot to do.
During all of this, I continued to help on the farm. I still shoveled poop twice a day and made sure they had water and hay. I filled in on feeding when she had appointments. There was a lot to do on a farm every day. On weekends, when and if we opened, I would give my tours. I loved giving tours and sharing my knowledge of camelids and more specifically alpacas. That was probably the bright spot. I had chickens too for a while, but those were given away. I continued to do the work in all kinds of weather knowing that she already decided we were at an end.
This went on until the end of the year when she decided it was time. I had to start boxing up my belongings, find an apartment back in the city I was born in. I originally was looking to get a trailer in an over 55 village but that fell through as I was not able to afford the chattel loan. I had been approved many times for loans but when they found out it was for a trailer they backed out. The one who said they would do it wanted twice up front money and larger mortgage payment with shorter terms, which when added to the $550 HOA fee. So that fell through, so I looked back to the city of my birth and found an apartment. It is a townhouse setup with two bedrooms upstairs, one I use for my office. It is okay and I get to play with the neighbor’s dogs. I would have gotten a dog but they wanted an additional $1000 deposit to have one.
So on New Year’s Eve, we got the truck and filled it up. It was decided to move me that day. We got everything down to my apartment and got everything inside. We went back to spend my final New Year’s Eve at the farm. I was not fully there. My mind was a whirl. We played That’s What She Said and had our drinks. I slept in my bed one last time and then up in the morning, grabbed a few last things and was off.
It took quite a bit of adjustment to go from a farm with 27 alpacas, 3 dogs, my wife and step-son to just me. I did not sleep well. Of course, I am right on a major thoroughfare so that didn’t help. There was a bump on the street from a frost heave so any time a truck would go by they would make a loud noise. It has since been fixed so a little less noise. Of course, this meant that I am now cooking for one, so that was an adjustment too.
Further exacerbating the situation was the virus. I was just starting to get into finding places and planning on visiting new restaurants and having friends over, when this all hit. Now I am further isolated, only venturing out to the market. I was going for long walks and finally found my grandparent’s grave marker. I also walked cross town, almost retracing my steps from when I was a kid and walked from St. Patrick’s to my grandparent’s house. They had the cops out looking for me that day.
I have been doing quite a bit of walking but think I irritated an old injury from the days of alpaca wrangling, so my foot has been slightly swollen. If I press the spot where the alpaca kicked me, it is tender, so there might be a slight break that I irritated. I may have to see the doc when this all returns to some sort of normalcy. I probably irritated it that weekend I got in over 20,000 steps. The only pain I ever have is from a toe I broke in the service as it has some arthritis in it now, but other than that, my foot doesn’t hurt, just slight swelling. I have been keeping them up as best I could.
I don’t want this to sound all negative. There are many pluses. I joined a group and soon found myself going to their meetings in all three locations. They treat me like family and give me the love I need to feel. They check in on me most days to be sure I am okay.
I also had a long chat with my son. I hadn’t heard from him in a long time so that was nice, and it was a long back and forth rather than the short quick notes. I had a girl’s night with my daughter and our friend Emily a week or so ago. We got Chinese, had wine, and watched some Iliza Schlesinger for laughs. It ended up being a really fun night.
So in all of this there has been some positives. They are slowly opening things up. Though, I won’t be running out to restaurants any time soon. I may stick with takeout to see if there is a resurgence. I am 61 so considered in that vulnerable group despite not getting sick even from flu. I get to take advantage of those senior hours so I can get some rolls of TP! I never understood why people were hoarding TP. Ah well.
So, given this is my one year anniversary, I think I might treat myself to Chinese takeout later. For now, I have a few things to get done, so running out.
As always, my heart to your heart, one heart, one spirit. You are loved!
I believe it was President Clinton who first recognized Pride Month in June. First, President Bill Clinton declared June “Gay & Lesbian Pride Month” in 1999 and 2000. Of course, most LGBTQ+ people owe a lot to the Stonewall riots. It is so unfortunate that sometimes that is what it takes to evoke change. Unfortunately, we are seeing that once again
From the History Channel, The Stonewall Riots, also called the Stonewall Uprising, began in the early hours of June 28, 1969 when New York City police raided the Stonewall Inn, a gay club located in Greenwich Village in New York City. The raid sparked a riot among bar patrons and neighborhood residents as police roughly hauled employees and patrons out of the bar, leading to six days of protests and violent clashes with law enforcement outside the bar on Christopher Street, in neighboring streets and in nearby Christopher Park. The Stonewall Riots served as a catalyst for the gay rights movement in the United States and around the world.
As my followers know, I am Transgender. The T, in LGBTQ+. I have chronicled it here on my site since 2016. I have always questioned my sexual leanings. My original psychologist suggested that I was bisexual. She offered that I should try being with a man. Unfortunately, I was in the midst of a very nasty divorce and felt it was not prudent to add that into the mix. It was bad enough that I had come out as transgender, but adding that I was bisexual was not prudent at that time. I did know that one of my favorite shows was X-Files as I had a crush on both David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson.
As I got more involved with LGBTQ+ I started to look more closely at who I was attracted to. Until recently, it was moot as I was and am still married. I am separated now, but I still honor my vows so I am not involved with anyone. As I looked at what attracts or rather who attracts me, I came across sapiosexual.
As a Sapiosexual, you have a special fetish for intelligence. Although you may find the bodies of people attractive, and their personalities charming, unless they show any real sign of intelligence, you will not take any sexual interest in them. Basically, a person can be the richest, most socially suave person there is, but unless they know the periodic table or the writings of Karl Marx off by heart, they are nothing but a sparkling smile to you.
To stay long in a relationship, you must be intellectually compatible with your lover, otherwise your union was doomed from the start. As a Sapiosexual, steamy debate is far more erotic than a massage. Additionally, in life, you’re much more likely to end up with a “thinker” than a “feeler”, and usually find partners in fields that require mental ingenuity rather than brute strength.
I haven’t really seen a consistent flag for sapiosexual so I didn’t include one. It is interesting when you are looking, just how many different flags and definitions there are. I have also heard bisexual referred to interchangeably with pansexual, though you have others who say they aren’t. So all of you who are confused, join the club.
In the end, I still find myself attracted primarily to women, so some would call me a translesbian. In the end, all the fighting that has happened over the years to get us to this point, should just let us be who we are without all the labels.
I do find that I prefer people with intelligence. I don’t need an Einstein, nor a Mensa candidate, but someone I can have an intelligent conversation with. In the end, I just prefer my own mantra, I don’t care who you love, only that you love.
So, I have been living back in the City since January 1st. I like to walk. I had done a number of walks around the neighborhood. I kept adding to my distance and soon I felt ready to challenge myself. I decided to walk out to St. Patrick’s Cemetery to visit my Grandparent’s grave. I had only an old email from my cousin to go on. I would walk out there and then up and down rows trying to find the grave. The first two attempts I registered over 11,000 steps each time. This time, I had reached out to my cousin again and this time she told me the gravestone number. I actually had it already but didn’t know that was that number on the original note.
This time I succeeded. I found my Grandparent’s grave but still not my Uncle Frank. Uncle Frank was a firefighter here in the city. As I recall, he succumbed to Black Lung. It was a hazard that many firefighters endured back then. Thankfully, the equipment has improved.
Now that I know where my Grandparent’s are, I will make more trips out there. It is a challenging walk. Though, thanks to my cousin Mary, this time the steps were a lot less as I didn’t walk up and down through all the stones. Had I gone deeper in, or realized the number I had written down was the number of the grave, I might have found them earlier. It was good though. Being stuffed up due to Covid it is nice getting out. I rarely see anyone out on my travels, so even though I carry a mask, I don’t have to wear it all the time. There is also a little store on the way so I can stop in there and get something to drink.
I could have given up, but I didn’t. Just like my life, I continue to push forward. I found my Grandparent’s grave and spent a little time with them and talked with them of all the fond memories. The last I had with my Grandmother was when I worked a couple of blocks over and would stop over for lunch. She would usually make me a mac and cheese with tomato. It was amazing. She also had tried to teach me Gaelic. I can be a bit dense, but managed to retain a few minor phrases, such as cupán tae. Though my cousins taught me, Póg mo thóin.
I loved my Grandparents and spent most weekends with them. My Grandmother was the one who got me walking great distances. We used to walk downtown from her home at the corner of Oak and Bank Streets. Many times, she would walk us down to the Thomas Chew Boys and Girls Center. Sometimes, it would be downtown to Columbia Street and Cosmos Pizza. We walked everywhere. So go figure when I was going to St. Patrick’s School and often had to sit with the Mother Superior to wait for my da to come and pick me up. I was given cookies and milk but one day had enough and decided to walk to my Grandmother’s. Little did I know that it didn’t take them long to call the cops. Oh my God, I knew where she lived. It was about two miles from the convent to her house. I remember getting there and she asked where my Father was and I told her I walked. I am surprised she survived the day. She quickly called around. She was notorious for chain smoking her Kents. She would often light one from the other. She was an amazing, loving, caring lady.
My Grandfather was a nut. my memories of him were the bomb. Whether it was spinning tops on the cement slave under the tree in his yard, or parading all of us up to Deckie’s for penny candies. All of our cousins together all in a parade. Grampie would give us all a little money and we would load up with Squirrel nuts and Bazooka bubble gum. Of course all of the cousins would get together on Sunday morning. Off to church on Sunday morning at Sacred Heart, often in the choir loft with my Uncle Kenny who was a renowned Irish Tenor. He inspired my love of music. Afterwards, we all would be back in my Grandparent’s house with Dunkin Donuts that my older cousins picked up.
Saturday night’s with my Grandfather was usually spent watching Lawrence Welk and followed by the Saturday Night Mystery Movie with a rotating cast from Name of the Game with Robert Stack, Heck Ramsey with Richard Boone, McCloud with Dennis Weaver, Columbo with Peter Falk as well as a few others. That inspired my love of mysteries.
The impact my time with my Grandparents can never be understated. My love for them is undying. It was so great to be able to spend a few moments with them again.
On my way out, I was surprised to see a turkey. Odd seeing one in the cemetery.
I always get a kick out of a tour through the cemetery. All the Irish names are represented. There are the McCarthy’s, the Sullivans, the Murphys, Doyles, Coynes, and just about every O’—– name. Well it being St. Patrick’s, is there any wonder.
The thing is, I may not have found my Grandparent’s the first or second time, but I persevered and with my cousin’s help, I found them. Now I know where they are and can visit any time. Though, now that the heat of the day is kicking up, I might be driving until Fall’s cooler weather returns. I still need to find Uncle Frank, and my Uncle Kenny. Never give up, keep pushing through.
One of the hardest things to do is to remember your power. This is more important during these times of isolation and separation. I struggle with this every day. Yet, I never stop reaching out to others that may be hurting. That is my power. It is the power to bring light and love to others and promote their healing. I always likened myself to a wounded healer. I have suffered many slings and arrows to get to where I am now. I have been knocked down many times, but I choose to get back up.
There is great wisdom in that meme. I am 61 now. I have gone through a lot. Yet, even when I feel like I am hitting the bottom, I try to reach down and summon that inner warrior spirit to rise up. I have been told that I serve as a light to many who are just starting down this path. It is a scary one, of that, there is no doubt. You run the risk of losing family and friends. Your whole life may end up in upheaval.
I continue to fight. I continue to push through. I continue to try to light the way for others. We never know why we have entered this life. I have learned over time to try to flow with the river. I have found that over time, I have encountered many who I have helped as they come into my life at just the right moment. I have also had many who came into my life at just the right moment to inspire, heal, and raise me up. I may not find joy in the current situation we are in. I am a social person, so the isolation is very hard on me. I understand why we are distancing, but I still crave the touch of another human. I am also empathic, so when I read comments or people talk on Zoom or Skype, I can hear it in their voices. It drains and I have to pull back for a bit to recharge. No matter what, I will always try be there for others.
I will continue to write my story. I will continue to be a light for others. I will continue draw on my power as a healer to help others. We are all relations.
I thought I had found my soulmate. I thought we would be together for life. We started an alpaca farm together. In the end, she decided that now that I was finally me, it was time to move on. I get it, I don’t like it, but I get it. So New Year’s Eve, we packed up all my stuff and moved it to my new apartment. I set about adapting to my new/old place. I say new/old because I have lived in the city off and on over the years. I pretty much know my way around. Some things have changed but most of the streets are still the same. I quickly learned where everything was. I found my pizza place, I found my Chinese place, I was starting to get out. I joined some local groups and was going there at night. Then the shutdown hit.
I think that is when the isolation really hit me. I went from having 27 alpacas, three dogs, and a family to just me. The lack of communication also added to the isolation. The shutdown caused the cancellation of many get-togethers. The only interaction I had was when I went to the market or I would see the neighbor out with her dog. Of course, we had to keep our distance, but it was something.
Eventually, my groups started to do online meetings. It wasn’t the same as in person, but we were able to see each other and joke together. We had a few laughs together and that helped to alleviate things. One of my friends even started to do jewelry shows online. We were meeting every Thursday night to play games and buy bling. I had one friend start connecting using Skype. I was able to connect to people, though we could not touch or hug. It was something. The isolation was getting to me despite the connections. I did manage to get in a few walks, but the weather was not cooperating there. We got into a patch of cold, wet, rainy days. I did manage to get a good day and did a nice long walk that netted over 7000 steps for just that walk. Hoping to get a few more like that.
I often have to fight the darkness that wants to envelope me. It is then when I turn to the images of strong women and call upon my wolf spirit to help me through.
The Governor announced that the stay in place order was to be extended until May 18th. That was not good news, but understandable. The death rate was still going up. I read where the death rate in the US had surpassed the number killed in the Vietnam War! So we do need to do everything we can to flatten the curve.
I may be alone and isolated, but am I really? One thing I found is that when I post on Facebook when I am at a weak point, I get so much love and support in response. I have a lot of people rooting for me. They remind me that my past is behind me and that my best days are yet to come. So I continue to muddle through. I continue to wade through the muck and mire of life. I continue to keep swimming like Dory. I continue to embrace the warrior spirit of Boudica so that I can survive and thrive. We will get through all of this.