Writing Reality

 In 2009, 4 days before Halloween both children were ages 5 and 7. My then 7 year old thought it was funny to run ahead of me, when I'd told her a multitude of times not to go more than 3 driveways away from me on the sidewalk. Nor turn a corner without my seeing her.  At the time, a predator that I'd testified against many years before had been released early, yet he was found dead 7 months just prior to this on the day we predicted he'd come after me and finish the job.  My husband weeks later revealed that he would forever remain amber, where I'd revealed, that I would remain on red for the rest of my life. So on this bright warm 70 degree sunny Wednesday before Halloween 2009, myself and our 5 and 7 year old were walking back from school a few blocks to our minivan. My 7 year old began to run. I warned her, "Three driveways is all. No more." She looked at me and smiled. She ran off. I called to her. She stopped a second looked back, grinned and she forged

“Yeah. I played war in the morning with my cereal when I was a kid.” I revealed during a break in a small massage therapy class recently. “My brother joined in. But he was a real romantic. I guess I’ve always been a hawk of sorts.” The students median age about 59 paused. There was no sound in the room—for a brief moment. The instructor a young early to mid-70-year-old said nothing. I couldn’t remember what struck me to announce such a thing. Could it have been the age-old religious conflicts that have never stopped for a millennium? We only lie to ourselves to think they have. The ones that kill thousands in a day or a week? Is it that I knew that war plagued humanity since its inception? Probably. We’ve been warned verbally, in all sorts of philosophical and religious books that this was and will be the nature of humanity. It’s about greed, really. We’ve been warned by those earthy figures whom we stole from and laid waste their cultures. It has been told in every breeze known

 If you've ever watched the sitcom Seinfeld, theres an episode about a woman that Jerry Seinfeld wants to know if her ehhhh hmmm breasts are augmented or are they are real. And Jerry and friends find out comically that "They are real and they are spectacular." Says the woman who is naturally well-endowed. I am quite often asked why I haven't grayed or turned white at 61 years of age. Although a few strands have arrived.  I've been accused of dyeing my hair since I was age 38. The news is I haven't ever dyed my hair. My hair color is real. And for me a representation of discipline.  I will tell you the truth. As much as I've survived fire, flood, crimes, injuries, illnesses and diseases. I have birth defects.  I've made certain that I've been careful with my nutrition. I abstain from taking synthetic medicines, and Over-the-Counter medications.   Instead I've used proper nutrition. Proper hydration with water drinking daily. Proper nutrition i

  It’s a Numbers Game The other day I realized I had to seek pain relief that I could not attain on my own. I usually figure out how and why, ergo the physiology of why I might be pained or feeling lousy and such. I surmised that I’d driven near 800 miles in under seventy hours. Which approximately 95% of the driving had been in the rain. And as Dolores, the retired detective I had visited after visiting our youngest daughter at college said, “Driving in the rain is taxing.” She would know. She’d been around the block more than once at age 94. Putting many decades in as a law enforcement official whilst raising two daughters as a single mother. Dolores still had such incredible energy as she and I had a near three course meal together for four hours that night, shutting down a Greek restaurant after ten in the evening. And still chatting as we left the empty restaurant and walked out to my parked car. Just days later I knew the surgical site I’d battled the most with for over thirt

We silently argue over Columbus Day. Which to me is Indigenous Peoples Day...Yeah. So this was yesterday...by the way. Yeah yeah. We are all upset over people warring in politics and or one country attacking another. Sure, I get it. But when are we all going to stop the Mad Men? When are We going to reflect on our own Inequities? When are We going to be kinder to our differences?  When We stop the Mad Men in politics and say, "Enough!" We need to reflect. We need to be forgiven from within and without. We, the free... need to reckon with our freedom not by Tribalism. But to be introspective to our own individual soul. I learned from my Marine recruiter nearly 45 years ago that is what made a good Marine. That is what protected the United States. Having our own individuality and compromise with one another diplomatically, to become a team when the People of the United States needed us.  But if the People who are or haven't served do not reckon with their own greed, glut