I Caught the Beast!

Wrapped her in a warm blanket fresh out of the dryer and put her right to sleep in her bed in her room/my office. We'll call it "The Guest Room."

After I dropped her at work today, I went to the gym. When I got home, I started re-deranging the office.

The bedding needed to be washed. The bookcase; table; life-size cut-outs of Darth Vader, SJP, and James Gandolfini as Tony Soprano; file cabinet; sewing machine; serger; office chair; and too many books, papers, and art supplies all needed to be moved somewhere else to make the room livable. They were all moved into the living room. The living room is now a dangerous place to walk through, so I've left the bathroom light on to help us navigate until Saturday when furniture gets removed to other parts of the property; read basement and garage.

Yep, the beast is asleep in her bed wrapped in a warm blanket. Sometimes Mama Bear gets it right.

In the Wee Small Hours of the Woman's Morning

There's a woman I know just a little bit, and I adore her because of what I know that she does not know that I know. I only learned it because her granddaughter told me, "Oh yeah, we've got that in our family." She then went on to explain how her dear grandma has two grandsons who live only a half mile away, and she never sees them; has no relationship with them because that's how the grandsons' mother wants it. This amazing woman's son lives this way. She is on par with my own sainted grandmothers. She inspires me. I am hoping to send her a note properly expressing how I feel without hurting her with reminders, nor making her uncomfortable because her first granddaughter told me a family secret in an effort to make me feel better. I care for the children of a wonderful family. I've been told that I'm appreciated. That's all I really need to spew love all over the little critters. So I'm relatively fresh off of taking care of three lovely granddaughters. None of them my own, but oh the joy they bring. And now, because this is only a blog, let's boil it down - I don't get to see my grandgirls, nor have any communication with them other than the few times I see them during the year. It is the same for my daughter, son, and entire family. It's called, "Parental Alienation." The time I spend with other children heals my soul. The people I've come into contact with who go through something similar to what I go through - well, when they handle it with public grace - I'm eternally awestruck. Oh to be that person in that moment. It's a goal worth pursuing that feels so much better than totally f'ing up. I'm off to be selfish and happy. There is a "Downton Abbey" marathon on WTTW Prime that's been going since sometime on Thursday. I'm thoroughly enjoying it. Basically, my daughter is away for the evening. My son is asleep. They are both safe. I've heard no bad news other than a bit of news from my sister-in-law. I've got a plan to address my volunteered obligations to her and my bro'. I've had a lovely evening of working to be the best I can be while taking care of myself and succeeding. All the while, I was showered with happiness and cooperation. I'm telling you. The mother of the grandsons is really missing out. I hope the same as my lovely grandmothers and so many other; may we all experience the just love of those we hold most dear simply because they are blood.

It's Time to Get Real

After only a year's hiatus, I'm back! Believe me, I'm as surprised as you are. With a new and never before used password, I'm off and running again. I'm still surprised. "Twilight Zone" is my white noise. I'm up because I'm a night owl. The story is about a woman traveling alone and continually seeing a hitchhiker. Anyone remember it? I do. Love "Black and White." I'm up because I'm a night owl, and my daughter is surviving a manic episode and at work. I've sent her a text asking if she can sleep at a friend's or Uber it home. She works a double tomorrow. She's off on Friday with plans to see her boyfriend, who is nine years her senior. The following is what I wrote for a new intro, but it is too long: "While six years ago the following might have been true, "Going Forward @ 50 is a bit of a journal with short stories, poems, pictures and random thoughts about the art of acquiring a new life because the kids are raised, and I need a life," the reality of the last six years is so much more than I expected. Seems this might be a great bit of therapy for more than just me. My most trusted friends are even more trusted. I am stronger than I want to be. My children are completely opposite personalities and wonderful. My granddaughters are smart and beautiful, and I fear for their well-being. We need help. We want help. If I do this right, all my dreams will come true. If I mess up, I'll learn and keep trying. Fuck fatalism and victimization. Crawling up from these depths may be a lack-luster journey filled with inconsistent plodding,failure, and success. Can't even commit to taking anyone with me all of the way. My friends are my friends. My readers are my readers. If you want a look inside - welcome." So, of course, I got upset and just deleted any intro, for now. Anyway, I can't say that my daughter will be happy with me for sharing any of these experiences. In fact, I'm very sure she'd be pretty, darn pissed. UNLESS - I can fully explain sincerely with integrity that the only reason I'm sharing this is because there are others who are going through something of the same in their own unique ways. If I can give hope through my writing. If my words and vulnerability might help reach a solution. If, if, if . . . After a good amount of reflection and emotional reaction, I've decided that imagining wonderfully, positive outcomes is better for daily living, even if, imagining the dramatic, negative outcomes might be better for a movie, book, play, or poem. One is used in real life. One is used in fiction -- "based on a true story." Both have the same desired outcome in America; HAPPY ENDING! Will we take a journey together to a happy ending? I sure hope so.