Skip to main content

Posts

October 23rd 1983

  Today’s date may or may not be a day of infamy. However, it is for me. It is a day that marks a number of things in my life. It was two on this date thirty-eight years ago. One was a world event. Another was quite personal. Both were intertwined on that day. It was October 23 rd , 1983, as I awoke at about four in the morning. I had stayed over my fiancĂ© parent’s home, for he was to drive me to a wait station on an army fort near the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. It was to be my first marathon. Which I was ill prepared for. It was because I’d just recovered from the flu seven days before. As well, three days before that I received my marathon acceptance letter. Yet, I so wanted to be a marathon runner. My nervousness started as I realized I may not even be accepted six weeks prior. What was worse, was that the people who I thought might be happy for me to be accepted into the 1983 New York City Marathon, weren’t. They said all sorts of negative horrible things to me, when they saw I
Recent posts

They Don't Get It

  Over the years, before and after I became a parent, I invited talks of others that parented about parenting. I came to realize years ago that I’m quite alone in the understandings of life at an early age. My mother used to say to me, “The age of reason is seven”. It was repeated so often to me as a child. And I believed it. I also thought, it was how everyone else understood maturity of the human condition. I can say the perception I had as well that saying, are incorrect. In coming to the above conclusion, years ago. I began to realize that there are many things I could not control as a human being, let alone a parent. My now deceased husband used to say, “We are a product of our environment”. I almost always have had a problem with that saying. Some of it does ring true.   But it’s how you understand that saying. A saying I have dissected for nearly forty years now. What does that all mean? All, both sayings.   Seven is when some children may understand it is incorrect to lie

Looks Like Rain

Disrespect for human life. It's not the subject I'm picking at, that is the political one.  It's deeper.  It's not of a religious conscience. It crosses all boundaries of race, religion, color, creed, genders, well you get the gig here. It is of a truth. A truth everyone says they want. I'm seeing it and have seen it as it's quite converse than what comes from you. Out of your mouths. Your actions. What does rain have to do with it? It's philosophical.  Follow me if you wish. And when you do, if you have any conscience you will,  even just a little bit find fault with your thoughts of past and/or present. Yet I'm hoping, I affect your future thoughts and actions. Because by writing this I know I can. How do I know this? My mother told me when I started writing now over fifty years ago. I used to hide my writing. Because I knew it, before she told me so when I was age eight. Oh yes, I did listen to my mother. And I didn't talk back, at all. I walked

Monogamy

  About eight years ago I sat in one of my physician’s treatment rooms. Her and I would have these talks,  even though we both were busy. But that’s what happens in most doctor’s treatment rooms I enter. There’s usually a philosophical overtone when I walk into their treatment room. Usually, it’s me to them. And it’s starts with a query from me. Like an innocent child would ask. However, it’s usually an ethical or scientific question that is gnawing at me for years.   And then it grows into a question to someone I respect. Someone that will give me an unbiased, straight up, and unadulterated answer. Responses have been from a gasp, to a drop of a folder, nearly always a pause. Yes, I really hit the mark with ‘Winner’ queries. And then an honest answer from them. And ergo the discussion time. I’ll apologize now for holding up the other patients behind me, who just want to get in and out. Most are afraid to be so honest with their physicians. It’s like it’s a waste of time to them. To

Sublimely Oblivious

  The view as I traverse the sidewalks, paths, roadways I see most people appearing sublimely oblivious.  How? Most appear to disassociate from their present moments. It is seen with or without headsets.  With or without chatter on phones.  With or without chatter on hand held devices,  and so forth. Yes, those of you covering your ears and minds in the open air. Some have not ever ventured outside to walk or run daily or at all, till a pandemic took away your escape of over-socializing away. Needing external entertainment. The need to be with groups, clicks  and so forth to feel. To feel something.  That something that is within us. That which is meant to feel deeply alone, to understand oneself.  To understand one's self existence.  We have denied it, until we were recently forced. And when we were forced,  we appeared walking like drunk sailors wandering the decks of our roadways like ships being pushed in a storm.  But you see we created this uneasiness. The uneasiness we

The Seventeen Year Depression

  It came in late July 2008, I began to realize I had a near seventeen year depression. It started as if my soul knew the future arriving the next month in the summer of 1991. And years of my life would be embroiled in a wicked hell bound torture fest, that I wouldn't recognize. What kept me from realizing this for seventeen years was, in my being extremely busy.  I had built a successful business.  I married Mr. Right. We adopted two children as infants and were now a happy family of four. I was able to work at my healing through running distances. We lived in suburbia, surrounded by trees, fresh air. A somewhat secure, safe location. The house we saved for and bought after 14 years of marriage was manageable. We had so much more than I could have ever imagined. Especially,  considering where I came from. I smiled a ton most the time, according to reliable sources. Coupled with a wicked sense of humor and great self-deprecation.  Realizing all this, I knew what had brought me low,

A Moving Experience

There are many experiences that parents can have in common.  Well, that is if. A big 'if', if your child doesn't go to a trade school, doesn't go into the military, doesn't decide to do either, nor college, yet works full time. Everyone has a different journey.  It is perhaps all upto each individual. And each individual's situation. My experience as a child is by far a dichotomy to that of my husband's,  and now our oldest child. As a parent, there has been no one who I know personally, who will exact my experience with moving their child into a college dorm as a freshman. I hear dramatic scenes, told by parents or their children on how their experiences were. In having been moved or moving their child into college dorm rooms. It appears that others seem that they are less pragmatic and more emotional in their experiences in being the mother in these circumstances. So that is from a mother's point of view. So I've heard. Today, my old UltraRunnin