BOOK REVIEW: GREAT EXPECTATIONS

I thoroughly enjoyed Great Expectations this time around. I listened to most of the book. Reading this text would have been exhausting and discouraging. Glad I was able to white knuckle through it. It was a gem of a novel. Everytime I read Dickens, I gain so much more respect for him. Great storytelling. So much imagery.

 

Favorite quotes:

 

“It is a most miserable thing to feel ashamed of home.”

 

"You should know," said Estella. "I am what you have made me. Take all the praise, take all the blame; take all the success, take all the failure; in short, take me."

 

“Once for all; I knew to my sorrow, often and often, if not always, that I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be. Once for all; I loved her none the less because I knew it, and it had no more influence in restraining me, than if I had devoutly believed her to be human perfection.”

 

 

“Such things as could be said for him, were said -- how he had taken to industrious habits, and had thriven lawfully and reputably. But, nothing could unsay the fact that he had returned, and was there in presence of the Judge and Jury. It was impossible to try him for that, and do otherwise than find him guilty.”

 

 

“…when suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but -- I hope -- into a better shape.”

 

Reflections:

 

We come from different worlds. Our ideas on love, family, friendships, self-improvement are varied and on opposite ends of the spectrum at best. I think love should be an all-consuming fire, he sees me as smothering him. I come from a family that tears you down and won’t stop till you are either broken and defeated or rise up as a cold blooded snake. He comes from a place of acceptance and belonging that I really will never know or understand. He doesn’t really have the tools to deal with the impeding bitterness of chronic pain or my cruel nature, so he stays silent. I have learned to value my friends, my tribe, as a lifeline and can’t stand to be cooped up in the house on a Friday night. I have a passion for movement, for exploring, for reading, for lifestyle guides and any productivity course. He’s seems ok in static conditions.

 

We both have different ideas on marriage and neither of us want to move out of our expectation circle and meet somewhere in the middle in this Venn diagram. For me, it would require sacrifice, work, change, shedding of a snakeskin I’ve become very comfortable in. If I’m being really honest, I think I’ve done enough work, made enough sacrifices and shed many skins and tears only to come back to the same places asking the same questions. I’m done talking now. My voice has fallen on deaf ears and the screams have taken their toll; the cords no longer work. All those times he didn’t hear me are seared and branded on me. He seems to have the luxury of forgetting. These years have been long, exhausting and discouraging. This isn’t a new story. It’s been told many times before in many ways. They tried to warn us how hard marriage can be. We were ruthless in our endeavors. We were going to be the exception. No one tells you of the many heartbreaks that lie ahead. We invested too much in a childhood fairy tale. There is joy, bitterness, pain, disappointments, sorrow and happiness. These all can coexist in the same time, same place, and in the same body. Sometimes, love isn’t the answer. Rejection is inevitable. Romeo has returned to a dead Juliet.

 

This endured suffering will make us stronger, bolder. It will break us, bend us, mold us into better people. One day we will have wisdom and strength of character. For now, as we muddle through the dark trenches, we try and find the gentle flicker of light.

When he drinks

I hate it when he drinks
I can always tell:
The shuffle swayed
The voice slurs
The nonsensical words

When he drinks
Something deep inside erupts:
Rage
Anger
Bitterness
Cold
FEAR

He reminds me of her:
Her vanity controlling her
Her disregard for everything
Her walking into walls

It's like she never really died
She lives here all around me
I can never be free of her.

Again, I have to fend for myself
Again, enormous burdens await me
Again, I need to make excuses
Again, I need to do battle, myself.

Face untold enemies
Exhibit strength I do not have
Grow up too quickly

I never thought I'd be here again.
I never thought I'd feel so alone.

BOOK REVIEW: MAESTRA

Book Review: Maestra by L.S. Hilton

Favorite Quotes:

"I cried for a long time, cried properly with my throat full of tears and snot, until I heard a strange noise. It seemed to come from outside, a keening, a baby, maybe, or mating cats. Then I realized it was me, howling. I cried out all the tears I hadn't allowed to fall since that day in London..."

"It was relief. Just for once, at last, someone else was in charge."

"Rage had always been my friend, and I neglected it. Rage had kept my back straight; rage had seen me through the fights and the slights. Rage had propelled ma from my no-mark comprehensive to university; it had been my strength and my solace."

"I wasn't sure yet how to play this. I didn't wanted to be relegated to the Estonian slut category, but then I obviously was the kind of girl who hopped a boat with a virtual stranger at a moment's notice."



This was actually a very engaging read. It had some great hilarious one liners and kept me interested. Some parts I found confusing. A good beach read. Maybe a good book to take with you on a flight.

BOOK REVIEW: One Day

ONE DAY by David Nicholls

My favorite quotes from this book: 

"They had met again in London in April, at their mutual friend Callum's twenty-third birthday party, spending the whole of the next day in Kensington Gardens together, drinking wine from the bottle and talking. Clearly she had been forgiven, but they had also settled into the maddening familiarity of friendship;"

"The attraction of a life devoted to sensation, pleasure and self would probably wear thin one day, but there was still plenty of time for that yet."

"... while all the time Dexter regarded her a look of affectionate disappointment, as if she were a puppy who had soiled a rug."

"Emma stopped writing, then looked away and stared at the ceiling, as if giving someone a chance to hide. She looked back at the page in the hop of being surprised by the brilliance of what was there."

"Dexter was sitting on the bed, his shirt unbuttoned. "Em? Are you crying?"

 "No. But it's still early."

"Shouldn't she have an opinion, take a side, boycott something? At least with apartheid you knew where you stood. Now there's a war in Europe and she has personally done absolutely nothing to stop it. Too busy shopping for furniture."

"... I think she enjoys bossing me around a little too much, but she's very attentive. Eat this, take these, sleep now. Strict but fair, that's your sister. It's revenge for not buying her that pony."

One Day left me an emotional wreck. I haven't been this brokenhearted since Atonement! I was just blindsided by the whole thing. I loved it. Piecing together the story as we get one glimpse into July 15 each year was so much fun; like going through an old scrapbook found in the attic under the floorboards. 

BOOK REVIEW: Tiffany Girl

TIFFANY GIRL by Deeanne Gist

I was so thrilled to receive an advanced copy of Tiffany Girl! Deeanne Gist is one of my favorite authors!

Teaser:
"The heir to Tiffany's jewelry empire is left without a staff when glassworkers go on strike just months before the opening of the much-anticipated Chicago World's Fair and the hyped mosaic Tiffany Chapel. Desperate and without another option, Tiffany turns to a group of female art students to finish the job. Flossie Jayne answers the call, moving to a New York City boardinghouse with high hopes of making a name for herself as an artist and defying those who say that the work can't be completed in time--least of all by a set of young, inexperienced women."

My favorite quotes from this book: 

"The closer she came to the Manufacturer's Building the more it dwarfed her. Climbing its steps to the grand portal, she passed beneath a triumphal arch, then paused at the imposing entrance. She looked behind her, almost expecting to find the celestial city had vanished like an illusion, but the magic spell of its ravishing vista remained unbroken."

"Holiness encompassed every corner, every crevice, and seeped into her very soul."

"Dragging a hand through his hair, he looked about her room, reminding her of Mr. Darcy when he'd gone to profess his love to Elizabeth but was unable to spit out the words. Of course, Mr. Wilder had no such feelings for her, but his discomfort was palpable nonetheless."

"The earnestness in her expression, the natural love she had for everyone, shone through her eyes. It nearly undid him. Cupping her cheek, he grazed her lip with his thumb. 'You deserve someone a lot better than me.'"

All of Chapter 74 made me giddy with delight. Quoting anything from there would be a talent spoiler. 

I loved how history came alive in this story. Compelling storytelling. I was so emotionally invested in these characters I actually got mad at their behavior and quit reading for a bit. I related most to the Reeve Wilder character. He was the typical writer: observant, doesn't speak much, but his brain was always swimming. He wrote in his journal every day and that really propelled his fiction writing to the next level. When was the last time I wrote in a journal - stream of conscious writing without thought, without using the backspace key? Reeve and Flossie had two breaks they took from each during this story. When they found each other again, they were more sensitive and mature. They saw each other with new eyes. I think a lot of couples could really benefit long absences. 

As always, Deeanne Gist delivers a story that stays with you long after you've stowed it away on the bookshelf. 

Lost

Ok, so here's the thing.

I lost my child yesterday.. while walking around in my neighborhood.

And the award for worst mommy goes to .... ME!

We took a normal walk around the retention pond area. It's a normal circle of a little less than a mile. We've done this route many times before.. with our dog, Sahsha. My son explores the trees. He finds odd  paw prints and plays a game of going ahead of me and I catch up. He goes really fast, catches his breath, I eventually catch up and he can hardly keep up after two rounds of those sprints.

He turned the corner, I didn't see him until I turned that corner, he was running.. I thought he would explore the rocks in the ravine... like he always did.

I got closer, and closer and didn't see him.

I looked around the hill and STILL didn't see him.

Before the panic took me somewhere where I couldn't breathe, couldn't think rationally, I prayed that God would keep him safe and help him find his way.

A peace washed over me. The peace the surpasses understanding and doesn't let me sit in a corner and rock back and forth.

Then... I didn't see him playing by the rocks, I looked everywhere I knew.. OH MY GOD! I can't find him. OH MY GOD! I have to call my husband and tell him what a sorry piece of shit I am and I lost our child.

Holy FUCK! Sheer cold dread washed over me.

I called... no fucking answer... dammit! My imagination ran the fuck away and ... oh. no.


I ran into the street, screaming my boy's name in a manic frantic fucking panic.. DREW!! DREW!!! DREW!!!

Cars stopped and slowed as I ran crazy in the street looking up and down, surely I will die right now of a heart attack. I called my husband again... and he answered with, "Drew's home."

Oh, my god. I was torn between peaceful relief and sheer terror of what could have happened to him.

On the walk home, I wasn't sure if I was going to hug him and praise him for finding his way home or beat the crap outta him for running away from me.

I've been working on writing this story for a couple days and I wanted to end it with a moral, a quote, something to tie it up with a pretty bow and say everything will be alright.

Truth is, some days suck. Some days I fail miserably. Some days I'm lost in the "what-ifs."

What if I never saw him again? What if he ran into the street with an oncoming vehicle? What if?

I.can't.even.

I Saw The Sign

I have a tendency to gravitate to the idea that coincidences do not exist. When like things are coming at you, there is a message. Like 2 weeks ago at church when Dinah's story came up. I unearthed an old copy of The Harlot By the Side of the Road and Other Forbidden Tales of the Bible. It opened my eyes again to the magic and amazing storytelling within the pages on this ancient text. Then, Dinah's name kept appearing and through a strange set of circumstances, I stumbled upon The Red Tent The Miniseries. 

I was convinced Dinah was speaking to me from the grave with a massively important message. I got through the movie in about 3 days and the words hit me deep, cutting my heart in pieces and bleeding. Words need to be said, I need to stop asking why and lay this burden of bitterness at the feet of redemption.

I've seen this sign before, read the scriptures, but this time it was clear and unmistakable. The path was light up bright and I still just stand here paralyzed.

Then another message...

Our bedroom area has a bit of an electrical short. Every so often, I plug in the vacuum and boom! darkness. The mister has to go flip a breaker switch and we're back in the light. It's been happening more and more these days. Yesterday when it shorted, it took out some lights in the master bath. Not just any lights, the bulbs on my side of the vanity. I heard them speaking to me again. My fear of rejection is dimming the lights on our marriage. I stand still, frozen in time, unmovable, my pride taking center stage unable to let go and forgive.

BOOK REVIEW: Go Set a Watchman

BOOK REVIEW: Go Set a Watchman by Harper Lee

Good parts of the book:

"She sat up. 'I don't know if I can tell you, honey. When you live in New York, you often have the feeling that New York's not the world. I mean this: every time I come home, I feel like I'm coming back to the world, and when I leave Maycomb, it's like leaving the world.'"

"Blind, that's what I am. I never opened my eyes. I never thought to look into people's hearts, I looked only in their faces. Stone blind... Mr. Stone. Mr. Stone set a watchman in church yesterday. He should have provided me with one."

"It had never fully occurred to Jean Louise that she was a girl: her life had been one of reckless, pummeling activity; fighting, football, climbing, keeping up with Jem, and besting anyone her own age in any contest requiring physical prowess."

"She did not stand alone, but what stood behind her, the most potent moral force, was the love of her father."

"She felt that time had stopped and she was inside a not unpleasant vacuum. There was no land around, and no beings, but there was an aura of vague friendliness in this indifferent place. I'm getting high, she thought."

It's taken me quite awhile to recover from this book.
It's that moment when you realize Santa isn't real
You grow up
You learn the roads in life are rough
Not everything is as it seems
Too many grey areas
Too many unknown variables
A math problem that goes on an on

I can't say anymore. It hurts too much.

It’s coming for me

It’s coming for me.

I can feel it. The anxiety is kicking in. There’s a disturbance out in the seas of my stomach. It’s ready to wage war on my heart, my body, and it wants to take my mind captive. This is the time of year I can’t escape the grips of the black hole. Numbness takes over. Apathy is a constant. Time ceases to exist. My eyes cannot capture light. Welcome to my hell.

The only thing to do is to weather this storm and try and hold on for dear life. I try to remember: this does end.

My childhood home was a built on a pile of ashes. The spirit of anger, bitterness, and rage rose up to destroy everything. My mother hated me for being born. She must have had other dreams for her life. She detested that I bared the image of my father. She couldn’t stand his affection for me. She lived in the midst of jealousy and rejection. I was never accepted. I never could belong… anywhere. I didn’t know how. I was easy prey to anyone in the world. Anyone who showed me affection became my obsession. Any substance that made me feel good became a way of life.

I found life in these words I write. I found meaning in literature. I saw stars align in physics class. I had a gift no one else did. I could put things together, solve difficult problems, make equations balance.

I found my way out, the path I could carve myself with my hands and feet.

But she wouldn’t let me go. Oh no. Her words seared and branded my soul:

“You’re ugly.”

“I hate you.”

“I wish you were never born!”

In an effort to end it all, I tried to take my life at 17. Thanks to my father, I was unsuccessful. He finally showed up. He finally let me know that I mattered. He finally protected me from her mental illness.

It was much too late. The damage was irreparable.

The minute I left my house, I searched this earth looking for a home, a place of refuge, somewhere to belong. I still wander in this black hole seeking forms of light as these walls close in on me.

Happy Diwali

Happy Diwali

Today is one day when I truly miss my family, my roots, my culture, my heritage.
I've run far, I've run long and I realize I can't go back.
I am the original prodigal son.

Don't get me wrong... I am grateful for my life, my faith.
I just miss the majestic beauty of the rituals.
The lights
The new year celebrations
Cleaning like crazy
Cooking up a feast
Sharing with friends, neighbors, even those who have wronged you in the past.
It's a day of forgiveness, of joy and reconciliation.

I celebrate in my heart.. with a bit of pain.

On Marriage, part deux

This story is changing. Curtains opening to Act 2. Drama unfolding. Uncertainty remains. Bone crushing responsibilities weigh on our shoulders.

As we weather a wintry brutal season in our marriage, we should bolster each other and hold on until the smoke clears. But we don’t. We move onto divergent paths. He’s steady, strong, undeniable in who he is. I never thought I’d question my faith. I’ve always believed in goodness, mercy, love. I’ve believed in love most of all; that the heart can expand… enlarge amidst crushing defeat.

These days, I take a minute to refresh, to breathe, and meditate. I focus on the good… no... the GREAT things: more than ten years ago, we danced in the moonlight, fireworks exploded when we kissed, lightning struck when we touched, love changed everything. These days, he doesn’t write me love letters anymore or stop everything to kiss me in the middle of a busy day. He does much more than that. He lays down his life. It’s in the ordinary moments weaved together into the testimony of a most honorable man who comes home to his family every single night and overlooks the mess and chaos.

He battles alongside me again and again, holds my hand, and stands behind me as I fail yet again to battle my demons. When I’ve deserted the troops and go AWOL, he finds me and helps me fight my way back. 

I walk in my father’s shoes now, down the same roads he’s traveled. I finally understand the whys. I am humbled by my father’s sacrifices and as I lay down my bitterness and finally forgive, walls crumble. 

I find my heart. Glory, Hallelujah. 

Ahh, so THAT’S what love feels like. 

The dust settles and Steve is behind the mist, holding it all together. He lays down his life, his heart. There are no trumpets and a parade to welcome me home. There’s just bone deep, remarkable love that walks the ordinary, normal, mediocre, daily doldrum. Sometimes it’s one step, one climb, one limp, one leap forward.

It’s one more Kid Cuisine, one more modge podge project, one more story, one more swim lesson, one more band aid, one more spill to clean up, one more kiss before bed, one more night where we commit to do better tomorrow.

This love in action.

This IS happily ever after. Our story evolves, some days can be rough but it’s still OUR story. This is when it counts. This is when love shows up. 

On Marriage

It’s no secret: marriage is hard. Sharing air, space, a bed, a life with someone else is not happily ever after.

Last May we celebrated our 11 year anniversary. These last couple years have been rough. We have stopped seeing the best in each other. Time passes. There are so many conflicts, hurts, wounds, misunderstandings, and distance. We force our lines, smile pretty for the pictures. We’ve both wanted to quit more times than we care to admit. 

The road to reconciliation is not paved. It’s filled with thistles, thorns, overgrowth… a wasteland of obstacles; weeds of unforgiveness, selfishness and silence. We need armor and supernatural weapons to wade through.

Love has gotten lost amongst the dirty dishes, remembering to set the coffee maker, a ridiculous amount of laundry, medical crises, an overwhelming stack of bills, things that need to be fixed around the house, a baby that doesn’t want to sleep, and anxiety about our future.

We used to know how to do this. We used to pray for each other and laugh at the days to come. We used to think we were invincible. We used to think nothing could stop us. We had passion; we were driven against all odds. We have forgotten who we are without all these strings of obligations and roles.

This rift, this chasm between us- I’m still trying to figure out if we can fix it. Our hands are broken. Our feet have failed us yet again, and hope… hope has disappeared. Our trust has been severed.

A crisis of faith is tearing us apart.

They tell us to use the weapon of gratefulness. There are numerous things to be thankful for: our son who is happy and makes us whole: he is our light amidst these dark days. Our home which shelters us from so many storms - provides refuge, peace. Our family who shows us that love shows up in person, no matter what; they help us laugh at ourselves and carry us through tough times by praying for us, fixing a leak, troubleshooting computers, helping us unpack into our new home, planning the kids’ birthday parties, and making the pecan pie that is out of this world!

Love is actions. Love is Steve catching the fact that I left boiling water on the stove and got lost in another project. He makes the rest of lunch for me. He sees me in the garden, and brings me a bag for all the weeds I toss to and fro. He comes home with another bottle of my favorite wine since I ran out last night. He cleans the car seat after Drew has thrown up everywhere. He finds me the Sonicare toothbrush I wanted for Christmas. He comes looking for me on my walk around the neighborhood after my phone went dead. Steve gets up every morning, gets Drew ready for school, starts my car even on the coldest of mornings, and loads up Drew’s book bag and essentials for school despite the fact that he’s in excruciating pain and would much rather lay in bed and not face the day.

Ministry and missions is not always about serving the needs afar. More often than not, the poor, the destitute, the broken are under our own roof bleeding uncontrollably by our own hands as we do the mad dash out the door.

Sometimes, the one bleeding uncontrollably is you.

So here’s the plan: we continue going forward… whether we’re walking or crawling, arming ourselves with the shield of gratefulness and the weapon of actions. We continue to have hope for tomorrow. We ask for prayers and courage for the dark days. We laugh more. We build each other up with love, encouragement and try not to take everything so seriously. Above all, we stretch out our hands in friendship and kindness. These are the things we have missed most in the last couple years.

Reflections from Happy Hour

I do my best to explain to them the joys of parenthood:

You may think you understand love, but you have no idea how exquisite it is to have your heart open up when your baby smiles at you. 

The days are long, the nights are longer, but the years fly by. 

The most beautiful clothes and finest jewelry are worthless as you walk through the door and those tiny feet sprint down the hall as their laugh and joy tackle you to the ground. 

The adventure is worth every sacrifice. 

My son has given my life such meaning, such significance. 

I cease to remember what this life was before his beautiful face. 

The truth is, we're not here to guide them; They're the teachers. 
If we step back, listen, let them lead, we catch glimpses of heaven. 

Those small still moments are worth.... everything. 

They smile, nod their head politely, take another swig of their overpriced mixed drink.

We move on to another topic...

I gaze around the room, misty eyed. By the time I get home my little man will be in bed.

Ahh, but when he wakes up, I'll be the only hug he runs for. I'm the favorite ice cream. I'm the superhero, I'm the most amazing, the smartest, the best...My kisses have healing magic, I'm the best friend... for right now anyways.

I dare not miss it.

Alignment

I can tell things are going in the right direction:

My mind is open, writing is more frequent.

I sing at all hours, there's all of a sudden room to dance.

Dear Book Out There in the Cosmos: 

My hands are ready to create. This world needs your story. I'm ready to finally write it. I will welcome you with open arms. 

Dear Muses: 

The table's been set, the candles are lit, the wine is chilled. I will make you a lovely feast fit for kings and queens. It's a safe place now. 

Awakening

Ahh.. breath. breathing. heart quickening.

Taking some time to refresh, browse, letting my soul fill. 

Here are the things taking up space in my brain:

"Fire Meet Gasoline" from the album 1000 FORMS OF FEAR by Sia, directed by Francesco Carrozzini

This video came up on my one of the websites I peruse daily: Nowness. I get my daily fill of art, music, film, dance, and some eclectic pieces I wouldn't have been exposed to otherwise.   

This video is.. all kinds of interesting.  Fire seems to be the theme weaving through my days.

Listening to Fifty Shades of Grey movie soundtrack. 

LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!
Nope, haven't seen the movie yet. I'm waiting till all three come out and then... THEN!

Favorite songs:

I Put A Spell on You, Annie Lennox. 
Ms. Lennox -  still got it! WOW!

Easy fun song to dance to... sway, and daydream.



I'm On Fire, AWOLNATION
Now, I love... LOVE me some Bruce Springsteen, and no one else can execute this song quite like him.

That is all.




Witchcraft, Frank Sinatra
This just makes me smile... for no apparent reason. It always has.


And.. I owe all this awakening to PIYO!

Into week 1 of 8 and loving it!

Today is a rest day and I feel GREAT! Clothes are fitting better, All of a sudden, I'm loving my pictures and feeling more comfortable in my skin. Easily finding my rhythm again and movement is becoming something I crave.

I feel so awesome; all it took was making some time for exercise, committing to it,  and getting some glorious, amazing sleep from diffusing lavender oil at night.

Oh I love my oils. Thieves is my crack, Panaway is my cocaine. Lavender... lavender is water. I can't be without it.

... to be continued ...

BOOK REVIEW: Living in the Land of Limbo

Living in the Land of Limbo: Fiction and Poetry about Family Caregiving

This anthology was like a big hug from a friend you haven't seen in forever. 

The stories, made me laugh, nod my head and cry at some emotionally harrowing pieces. 

We get a small glimpse through each lens of caring. 

The stories and poetry are so well written, so beautiful.

I could probably write one of these stories myself.  

I remembered looking at the back of the book and seeing the list of great authors included in this compilation. I imagined my name being in the middle of them all and my heart skipped a beat! 

My favorite quotes: 

"He had imagined she could be different if she wanted to. Which had angered him. Which was not, was almost never, the truth about things."  

"In a way, the bad nights were easier. The good nights made her remember. The good nights disarmed her."

"How can it be described? How can any of it be described? The trip and the story of the trip are always two different things. The narrator is the one who has stayed home... All that unsayable life! That's where the narrator comes in. "

"Valerie is saint, but her voice is the standard hospital saint voice: an infuriating, pharmaceutical calm. It says, Everything is normal here. Death is normal. Pain is normal. Nothing is abnormal. So there is nothing to get excited about."

"No one but Evelyn knew anymore what Lily used to be. No one else knew the record and the history of her brilliant life - all her accomplishments, playing the piano and swimming, all her days. They lasted only in Evelyn's memory."

"...the members of our family had few friends outside of each other, and their relationships with each other were often destructive. It was a family of controlling women and passive men. The women consumed their sons and alienated their daughters. It wasn't that they didn't love us. It was only that love was encased in a kernel of warped emotions. The result was a family afflicted with astigmatism of the mind's eye, which perceived a world of distorted images. This was the world of our childhood."
 

BOOK REVIEW: Destroyed

Destroyed by L.A. Starkey

We are back into it with book 2 of the Soul Keeper Series!

Story is a little bit of a slower pace; seems necessary to fill in the gaps of the story.

Some twist and turns and new characters emerge from Olympus. Pandora gets awakened!! Persephone is traveling with them! Oh, and that mean old Aphrodite messes everything up! How did she get to be so cruel?

This ends in a cliff hanger.. again. However the end is.. oh my word the end is... CRAZY!!






My favorite quotes:

"' I want to reminisce on every dream we've shared over the last four hundred years if you'll let us.'"

"' I would have rather been here. Being put in a padded white room is a wake up call, reminding me to get better or fake it.'"

"Zeus had pulled out the one card that would force Nick to do any and everything to win."

"... Sam couldn't help but feel a little jealous that the girl was standing so close to Nicolas. As soon as the feeling arose it shamed her to realize that she was falling for two men, and unfortunately they were brothers on top of it." 

"'This is a competition, Nick. I know you care for your brother , and I honestly do too, but if the clause doesn't help you, destroy it. Simple really.'"

I became my dad yesterday

I became my dad yesterday.
I'm riddled with guilt and insufferable sadness
The abused became the abuser.
I didn't lash out with voilence or anything

I gave the look. I said the words
The violent devastating words that hurt more than the worst beating.

I made my son feel small and dejected.
He didn't meet my expectations.
I was ashamed... my stupid arrogance got the better of me.
My puffed up pride.

I thought I had transcended from this place.
I saw the moment of who he would be, who he could be, the lights, the glamour, the stories to write, the awards to win.

But he couldn't take the step, he didn't want to.
I couldn't force him.

And I was so disappointed.
I should have behaved differently.
I should have been better

I could have. But I walked away, washed my hands.
All these years of running and fighting to not be this.. this rotten bad seed.

Here I am standing in the same place.
Today is new, and I start over and realize how much further I have to go.

That I never took the step.
I didn't want to.

EIGHT

Could it really have been eight years ago? EIGHT?

Eight years ago, we got the devastating call. The one that made me howl out to the heavens.

Tears that just stream and won’t stop.

The news that made my heart stop, air is sucked out of the room by an unknown force.

Some way, somehow… the world kept turning as I decided to stay still.

Some way, somehow… the minutes became years and I laughed again.
My mourning was turned into joy.

 Joy unspeakable.

Breath came back to me.

Heart beats another melody.

Life came back.

Forgiveness bestowed.

Healing ensues.

Stories weave.

We step forward, sometimes we step back or turn. Sometimes we are still… and remember.

BOOK REVIEW: To Love What Is

Book Review: To Love What Is by Alix Kates Shulman

This is a gem of a book. A ruby amongst a sea of garnets.

This memoir gave me hope, gratitude, reassurance and most of all... validation.

It’s a short read, but once you start it, you’ll want to read it slowly, gently, tenderly with care. The truths seeped into my soul and changed me for the better.

I am remiss that after 10 years of marriage, I come across this gem. This should have been read the minute I got married. It should be required reading.

"Unthreatened by my feminism, in fact turned on by it, he asked for a copy of my syllabus...and week by week he eagerly read my class assignments: Virginia Woolf, Zora Neale Hurston, Maxine Hong Kingston, Marilynne Robinson, Alice Walker, Alice Munro. He was my most ardent student. Night after night on the telephone our connection tightened as we pursued the meanings of love, sex, money, equality, and now literature too."

"Who is this disconnected person, with this weird mixture of sense and incoherence, as irrational as he is imaginative?"

"Can this injury have transformed his very self, stricken deep into his identity? Or revealed a buried self I never knew?"

"Had Scott not been the sort of man who makes things happen, we might have remained for each other simply romantic memories of idealized youth. Instead, two weeks before 1984 was set to launch, he made the call that changed our destinies."

"For a moment I envy our friends their engagement with the world. But then I recall myself: my world is elsewhere now."

"If this is my burden, there's also a secret reprieve: every impulsive, angry, cruel, or foolish thing I say or do, he'll immediately, mercifully forget."

" 'Amor fati,' he said, is 'not merely to endure necessity, still less to deny it...but to love it.' "

I want to remember this quote as long as I live:

"When I confess to him why I'm crying, he reaches out an arm to comfort me, exactly as he always has. That lifelong atheist,who has always scoffed at the very mention of an afterlife and couldn't care less about what happens to his remains, now pulls out all the stops to console me: 'Don't worry, dearest, I won't leave you. I'll pack your bags and take you with me to heaven. What color wings would you like? Blue wings, white wings, chartreuse wings? Any color you want, and I'll make sure they fit correctly. I've already put some feelers for trumpets, seven, eight, nine, ten trumpets to welcome you when you arrive. I'll offer you my arm and escort you around, show you all the sights. With you on my arm they won't be able to throw me out. They'll say, 'Look at that beautiful woman,' and let us stay.'"