A Good Attitude and The Right Pair of Shoes

img_8766I have had enough of myself and my room. I have found with a good attitude and the right pair of shoes you can change your surroundings, and I did.

Today I awakened to a foggy morning and a foggy mind. We, my doctor and I, are trying something new in the line of medications. My knee surgery and challenging recovery are complicated. I had a t-shirt made in high school and wore it proudly with rainbow suspenders, declaring “UNIQUE” across my chest. I didn’t know it then, but now I am fully assured, I didn’t need it in writing. Just ask brother.

So, this is a side note:  If you need the t-shirt that says “messy hair, don’t care”  You probably do!

I had surgery on January 6, 2018. The two-part surgery on the meniscus and tendon were unremarkable and a basic walk in the park for my well established doctor. What he found on the Femur, Tibia, Fibula and behind the Patella have him very concerned and frankly, shaking his head.

I injured my knee playing basketball in 1980. Yes, that was a very long time ago. I hyper-extended it in a basketball game. I was posted up under the basket rebounding and a girl came down on my knee and it bent backwards. It was wrapped and I finished out the basketball season and had surgery at the end of my senior year. The meniscus was trimmed, the knee cap shaved and realigned. My doctor for that surgery was tragically killed in an accident and I did not have a follow-up appointment on the knee and furthermore, I was out hiking on crutches and took a fall. All this has been tucked away for over 37 years and while walking along on a side-walk, it just collapsed.

The doctor explained to me what he found. Our bones have a film on them where they come together and are joined with cartridge to form a joint. Mine had formed a protective pocket at each bone as it formed the knee. Those protective pockets were full of ground bone and cartilage and blood. He has no idea how long it had been that way and even greater questions of how I could even walk.  The wear and tear on the bone is critical and the deterioration significant. He cleared it all away and my body has rejected the change. My mind has compensated for so many years suppressing and dissociating with the issue, that it will not give my recovering knee the proper signals.

Now the hard work begins. I have started taking a medication for nerve receptors. I took it for the first time last night and the nervous system currents to my legs were alarming. A few hours later I was completely exhausted and had a hard time waking up at 8:00. I start physical therapy next week to cause reaction. My concern is that I have to convince my mind to pay attention and acknowledge the pain so it will cooperate with sending it healing. Now hear me this…It sounds to me like it has to hurt to heal and I am trying to get my head in this game. I have blocked, put aside, and rightly ignored pain and trauma for over 50 years and I’m not sure I want to teach myself this new trick.

My Grands are on their way tonight. My own young children are a sight to see. They make my world go round and I would like to keep up,  if only to watch them shine. I will be attending a memorial luncheon for a dear one who lived to her 90’s tomorrow.  The examples before me tell me to dig deep and get this done.

I have adjusted my courage, found the right pair of shoes and I have work to do.

I started this blog to honor the unconditional love of my dog. “To live out loud in his honor. Unconditional, Encouraging, Challenging and Exploring Ideas”

I know I am not alone in physical pain or frustrating health issues. I am extending these words to you , not for your sympathy. I think we are more alike than different. cue the music… reach out a hand, ask for help and receive others. When someone asks what they can do, give them a true answer. Living a connected life with giving and taking in balance, brings healing to more than the broken bones of this world. It heals loneliness and hopelessness.

Please share with me your stories of connecting with others. When you were at a hard spot in the road, what did someone do to turn it around. Lets give each other ideas. Sometimes it’s the simplest of gestures. Today a stranger encouraged me by carrying some papers to my car. I could have done it, I started to say, “No, thank you.”  It wasn’t a difficult task and only took a moment of his time. Why would I rob him of that reward? A person standing near noticed and nodded his head. See, connections. We are selfish in our pursuit of independence.

Today I tied on my just right shoes and went out into this small town I call home. I trusted it with my frailty and I was not disappointed.


Just Opening a Window is Not Enough

Three weeks ago my knee collapsed. Two days later I was in emergency surgery. The surgery went well, the recovery has not.

I don’t want to write about my grief, my physical pain or my children’s personal struggles, so I have been quiet.

I began sharing my thoughts to go deeper, walk together in an unconditional way that cause people to feel and think and live!

I awakened this morning yearning deeply to be outside. I threw open the window. It’s just not enough.

I have decided to feature some writings of other bloggers or likeminded thinkers.

Please throw open the windows of your heart and mind and let others in.

Today, I will go outside. I will embrace the wind and the weather.

What is it that you will do. Talk to me.

Traditions of Deception

To the receiving hands of the ripped and torn children of the system, foster care and adoption. I have some advice. It is only my opinion so take it or return it. I write this with full knowledge that many won’t agree and I’m fine with that. These are just my thoughts followed by a powerfully written piece from my daughter when she was only five.

Be careful with the traditions of deception. I am not a Scrooge nor am I a religious one who hates costumes and candy. But I have some thoughts on Santa. The Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy too for that matter.

In the past 15 years, children have come to my home with broken foundations of trust. They have been lied to, traumatized and played. Physical and emotionally scared in ways that cause me to evaluate the traditions of deception. Ba-Humbug. I know, It all in fun.

Do you remember the age of discovery, the feeling in your belly when you realized there is no Santa. I do not. My family told the history and story of St Nicolaus and played the role of giving in the tradition of old. We hunted eggs and received gifts for our teeth all in the knowing that someone loved us and was delighted to gift us with surprises.

The Holiday tradition of casting a magical character that knows everything and will judge you naughty or nice and give you gifts based on merit, upsets my humanitarian mind. These children have no self-worth, often do not know that they are deserving of any good thing and furthermore, love people who have wronged them and society. It’s a heavy burden to carry. How many crying babies have to endure the traditional Santa pictures when they know full well this isn’t right. They are coaxed and encouraged and expected to put aside the naturally inherited protective fact, all for the traditional photo. You set them on a strangers lap and ask them to tell him what they want. He is a stranger, in a red costume! Freaky

I have been asked so many time as to when is it the right time to tell children that they were adopted? Let that sink in…it is their story. Tell the truth from day one. Do you question as to when to tell your biological children about their truth?

My girl told me this christmas story when she was five. She was secure in her attachment and belonging.

“On a dark winter night a man named Santa Clause came down our chimney. He snatched up Traven and Lillie when our parents were sleeping. He took them to make them work as elves. But one night we snuck out and borrowed his reign deer. Traven rode Rudolph and I rode the crazy one, I can’t remember his name…nope, can’t remember his name, but he was craaaazy. We got on in the night and flew home. I held on tight and said hyah-hyah. It was a crazy ride but we got home safe. We let the reign deer go back home but then Santa noticed that we were gone. He came back to get us and I wacked him with a stick when he came down the chimney. Then he went back to his home and left us alone.” Lillian Sayad

I love her courage I love her wit.

Give your children a foundation of wonder and imagination with a strong identity of truth.


via Daily Prompt: Torn

The Unexpected


A friend came to visit yesterday evening and I found myself chatting about blogging. I got started less than a month ago and I must say there are surprises along the way. I am new to this and have much to learn.

I hesitate to say that I had no idea about the “stats” or the image of the world map that lights up as you have traveled across continents and connected with others around the world. It is an unexpected thrill. The traffic is a tease at times as I want to know more about those who have crossed my path. I want you to know if you have disclosed yourself to me and I am not aware of your region or town, I educate myself. I go online and read about your surroundings. This grounds me and I become vetted in my fellow readers and writers.

When I was a young girl we had an exchange student at my school. She linked me to another student in India and we became pen-pals. We wrote letters and exchanged artwork. We lost contact over the years but I have never forgotten her drawing of peacock feathers or the life experiences that she shared. Blogging is pen-palling at its finest.

Cheers to connecting from here to there. I look forward to your stories and comments.


Suicide; one person’s panacea, another’s life sentence.

Daily Prompt: PanaceaIMG_7677

“Panacea~a solution or remedy for all difficulties or diseases…”

I have been thinking of this daily prompt all day. There is so much that I am not yet ready to say. If my dog Shaw was still with me he would have felt my annexed and pushed me to go for a walk. He would have pushed in close and I would have put my nose to his fur and breathed him in.

  • David C.R. ~ My childhood friend. You could have told me anything. HIV
  • Kelly P. ~ High School. My beautiful friend, I loved the ice-cream on your face. I wish you would have know broken hearts mend.
  • Uncle Paul and Aunt Georgie~ You changed our world. You did it your way.
  • Teasa Lane~ I can not even say your name. I was there when each of your babies were born, I climbed in beside you in some of your darkest days. I tasted your tears and I couldn’t catch you when you fell.
  • Kenny W.~ You encouraged me and said the kindest of things, I just didn’t know it was good bye.

My Panacea: “There is no death, only a transition of life.”

Bonds of Attachment

Attachment, it’s not for the timid or weak of heart. Today we sit in the sunny window of my upper room. My boy is struggling to find his way. His bravery inspires me and scares the life out of me. I will match his bravery because I must.

Often as parents struggling to bond with our restless adolescents, we ask them to join us. I challenge you, join them. We are listening to alternative rock while I paint his drawings. Yes, I set some boundaries, I don’t want derogatory f’words in my house but strong language is part of both our raging emotions. Say That

We are both a work in progress. I will fear no evil.