The Boxer

I am just a poor boy though my story's seldom told I have squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles Such are promises All lies and jest, still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest...Paul Simon If life has taught me anything, it's that I cannot be trusted to make any meaningful decisions without fumbling the ball. Almost every attempt has been met with failure. And I have no one to blame but myself. I always manage to choose the wrong path, take up the wrong cause. trust the wrong people. So here I am at a crossroads again...only this time every path looks equally dark and dangerous. I don't know if it's just the storm clouds that always seem to be hanging overhead but my thoughts are all so confused and murky. My life took such a sudden and intoxicating turn 7 months ago that sent me to dizzying heights. Some force of nature entered my life without warning and swept me up into a tornado of hope and faith then spit me back out the other side as it twisted its way back out of my life leaving me to ponder the debris littering the landscape. Plenty of broken pieces laying around...pieces of my heart and soul...pieces of my faith and trust...and I'm not sure I have the strength to gather them up let alone try to piece them back together. But gather them up I must...not because I want to...but because I have to. Because that's the only thing I know how to do. I seem powerless to stop the carnage yet oddly qualified to sweep up the mess left behind. But this time it's different. This time, for the first time, against all advice, I might just leave these pieces lie where they are. A memorial to the death of living history. A reminder that only a fool repeats the same pattern expecting different results. So I will leave it alone. I will head to the ocean and sit on the sand, lining up my mistakes, my failures, my fears like pebbles on the shore and wait for high tide to carry them away. When I can see them no more I will turn and carry on with the sands of distant shores under my heels...maybe then my fortunes will be renewed. In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade and he carries the reminders of every glove that's laid him down or cut him till he cries out in his anger and his shame "I am leaving, I am leaving" but the fighter still remains...Paul Simon

Love Don't Live Here No More

Love is a battlefield...love is a secret garden. Love can tie you up in chains...or it can set your spirit free. Love raises you up...it can bring you to your knees. Love is fleeting...Love never fails. Love is an interesting concept. So many people search their whole life for it without even knowing what they are looking for. Love is a treasure, to be sure, but one man's treasure is another man's trash...so they say. Some don't recognize the gold they possess and gladly trade it for brass while others accept glass stones as if they are diamonds. Ah..if only love could be possessed. I know two different people...one searching for a reason to let go and another searching for a reason to stay. One wants my advice...although I am not sure why...while the other questions my credentials as "Dear Abby". A paradox as deep as the river of love itself. I may have tried...and failed...and tried...and failed...and tried ...and failed (wait where was I going with this?) but every attempt taught me more and more about love...and about myself. You see, I once thought love was something to be won...a prize that you can put on your shelf and polish every now and again while you smile at the memory of your crowning achievement. Something solid and stationary...it just was. How smart I was...how smug...how wrong! Then I thought that love was a total surrender of yourself...heart soul and body. You give and give until you have emptied yourself of everything that makes you worth loving. How noble...how selfless...how wrong! Okay...then maybe love is just a wild abandon. A childish search for happiness and bliss. The only thing that matters is how you feel about each other. How exciting...how fun...how wrong! Love is not a commodity...it is not a sacrificial lamb...it is not currency. In fact love is not a something at all. We are love. Created in the image of LOVE itself, each and every one of us just are. That is why when we love we are never depleted and when we allow ourselves to be loved we are never consumed. So my dear daughter...don't confuse love with lust. Don't confuse truth with emotions. Happiness...peace...serenity are to be found within ourselves...not without. It's all there...Don't let go! And to my friend...don't confuse loneliness with being alone (you are never alone). You are asking me questions that have already been answered in your heart. Listen to it...don't ever settle for less than you deserve! And now faith, hope and love, these three remain...and the greatest of these is LOVE.

Letters I've Written...

I have often imagined seeing you again...there is so much I wanted to say to you. And yet when you surprised me at work a few years back, I was so giddy and nervous I am sure every word that I uttered made me sound like a complete fool. There are some that would argue that I am a fool...and I would offer no defense. It is safe to say that I have disappointed every one I have ever known. You were everything I ever wanted...everything I ever needed. But you had one fatal flaw...my Mother's approval. The kiss of death for a sheltered 16 year old Catholic school girl just discovering her first taste of freedom. I still remember the smell of your skin when you were bending close to me during our guitar lessons...your shy,nervous, sweet smile. But you confused me. You weren't like the other guys I dated... It's funny how mothers and daughters and fathers and sons dance with each other through the teen years. The sudden shift in power makes it hard to say who will lead and who will follow...they can't even decide on the band! As I turned away from her, I turned away from you. I was young, impetuous, headstrong...and dead wrong! In my eagerness to start the race I stumbled coming out of the gate and not only lost my footing, but my direction as well. By the time I realized my mistake it was too late. When I called you to let you know of my plans you asked me a very pointed question. I hesitated in my reply because I knew what it would mean to you. In the silence that followed I prayed that you would assure me that it wouldn't matter...that you still loved me. Your answer devastated me as much as my confession devastated you. Faced with my worst fears confirmed, I felt I had to settle for what I deserved. (if it's any consolation...Karma has not been kind) By the grace of God, I have survived my clumsy attempts at life and love. I would like to think I am stronger and smarter now but I think we all know that I will continue to make mistakes until the day I die. One mistake I don't want to make is to let one more day go by without letting you know what you have meant to me and how sorry I am for hurting you. One more thing...you gave me this album...you know the rest of the song. :-)

Turn the Page

Life is marked by a series of mileposts. Some are anticipated, like a highway exit sign on a map...some are approached with dread like the flashing yellow lights of a construction zone. But some are unexpected , slightly intriguing , yet compellingly curious like the handwritten, slightly askew promise of sweet corn or fresh picked strawberries up ahead on the left.

Everyone expects the obvious passage of time...birthdays, graduations, marriages, children, grandchildren. The kinds of events Hallmark banks on. Most everyone accepts life's more challenging sojourns...the first gray hair, the aching back, the eyeglasses and hearing aids. But it's the curve balls that brush us back from the plate that make us pause and take a good look around. And the thing is...you never see them coming...yet if you're not paying attention you're likely to get beaned.

The city where I was born and raised holds an annual International Village. A chance to catch up with family and friends and enjoy homemade ethnic food with a backdrop of old world dance and music. I attended this year with most of my children and grandchildren. We set out in different directions to sample our favorite foods and meet up to watch the dancers perform. (mostly to take turns keeping an eye on Brian since he plants himself center stage and waits for us to serve him) We have been doing this for years. I know exactly where each of my children will head...what foods they seek. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't know what my children want or favor? When it was my turn I headed straight for what I love but can't make myself (being of Italian heritage, Polish food is not exactly my forte) As I was helping Brian with his traditional roast beef sandwich (I swear he would be happier if we stopped at McDonalds on our way to the park...he's only there to watch "the dancing girls") I noticed my daughter had picked up my bowl of pierogies (spell check doesn't recognize the word pierogie LOL) I'm thinking she wanted some since she's cutting them into bite sized pieces.

"Take what you want" I say.
"Oh I don't want any. I'm just cutting them for you and taking off the onions cause I know you don't like them" she says.
"oh thanks"...wait...what???


I don't remember taking any exits but suddenly this highway is unfamiliar. How did we get here? Who has the map? More importantly when did I stop driving and start riding shotgun?

At least if we're stopping for strawberries I know Erin will cut them for me :-)

Till You Come Back To Me Again

After mass this morning, I was talking to someone from the "old neighborhood". He knew I was "one of the Strangis girls" (if I had a nickel for every time I heard that I'd be rich). My grandson was by my side...my daughter and granddaughter off to corral Brian (he has developed a habit of kneeling before Fr. Vince in the vestibule after mass reminiscent the scene of Maria kneeling before Mother Superior in the Sound of Music *sigh*) When comparing families, I introduced Nicholas and told my old friend I had 4 children and 2 grandchildren. Nicholas immediately tugged my arm and said "Nana, you have 3 grandchildren"

Last week, my grandaughter informed me I can no longer call her "angel" like I have since she was born. "Nana, my brother is an angel. I'm not an angel."

These children...so innocent...yet so wise. To Nicholas, who is eight, his brother is real. He existed...he has a name. To Keegan, who is five, her brother still exists, watching over her from heaven. They both speak of Joshua as a cherished brother. A brother they never got to see...yet one they will never forget.

We held a funeral mass for Joshua this past Friday. Family and friends gathered to celebrate the life of a beautiful soul who was born to die. He was loved the instant he came into being...not only by his family, but by God Himself. No less so than if he had been full term...no less so than if he had lived for years.

God tells us he knows us before we are knitted in our mother's womb. That is a powerful thought. We are known to Him, even if others forget us. We matter to God even if it seems we don't matter to anyone else. There is a place for us at His table even if others reject us. We not only exist, but we are exalted even if unseen by others in the womb. It makes no difference if we are 90 years old or 90 seconds old, we ARE SOMEONE to God! A life to be celebrated!

I am ashamed of my answer to my old friend. Never again will I forget the life that lives for all eternity in the arms of our Lord...my precious grandson. I have 3 grandchildren...Nicholas, Keegan, and Joshua. My love for them will never end.

And to my dear daughter and son-in-law...I know your grief has been magnified by the fact that there are some who have been insensitive to your suffering. There have been some who have not recognized that, although brief on this earth, Joshua lived...and he will live forever. I ,too, have been disappointed by some. All I can say is forgive them...they don't understand. And if that is hard to do right now...just remember, there is an angel up in heaven who already has.

Don't Ask Me Why

I have had this blog for over 5 years now. Not much to show for it though. You have no idea how many times I sit at this computer and just stare at the screen...waiting for the war of words raging in my head to spill out onto the keyboard. I have come to one conclusion...that ain't gonna happen. It's not like I don't have anything to say...it's just that as soon as my thoughts are poured out like concrete I realize they don't have much merit. Once set though, it takes a jack hammer to undo all the damage.

Lately, everything I thought I knew or believed in has been turned upside down. Of course, that's not exactly news. My life is constantly proving me wrong. All my starts and stops have left me dizzy. Every bad decision...every turn for the worse...every dark night of the soul can either lead to despair or enlightenment. But what about all those times you feel you've finally gotten this whole life thing figured out? When all the pieces of the puzzle seem to fit...when you are ready to pour the puzzle glue and put that masterpiece in a frame...then...wait...that's not right...it looks like it fits, but the picture isn't quite right? Then what?

I always believed in God...practiced my religion...said my prayers...read the great spiritual writings of many blessed and learned saints. But I never quite "felt" a connection to God. I always thought I was doing something wrong. It was deeply disappointing. Two recent events however have left me wondering how I could have ever been so blind.

The first encounter was so unexpected and so real I know the following words will not do it justice. I was reading...starting to doze off. I put my book down and my mind began drifting...I was actually thinking about taking a trip to Ikea for some fabric to make curtains for my bedroom. Suddenly there before me was my mother...with the most beautiful and joyful smile on her face...holding a baby in her arms.. In the instant that she came...she left. What was that??? I'm not one to even think of "contacting" the dead...I didn't (and still don't) believe in that. It was so intense though that I immediately called my son to see if he was keeping any news from me ( I swear that boy won't think twice when it's time to commit me LOL) He assured me that,yes, I was indeed crazy...and ,no, Suki was not pregnant. Okay...

A few days later I attended a healing service at the Motherhouse of a local community of Sisters. I was going to pray for my daughter who was having some health issues...and for my grandson. When it came my turn to approach the altar...without any effort on my part...my mind went to something in my past that I had long since buried. The priest...who has no idea what you are praying for as it is a silent prayer..usually just places his hands on your head and blesses you then turns to the next person. His hands were so warm...much warmer than normal body temperature. He turned away from me...then hesitated...turned back toward me just staring at me for a second as if he were listening to someone. He touched my elbow at first then pulled me into an embrace that defies all description...so warm and gentle...all without saying a word to me. He then turned and continued on down the line. I was the only one he engaged like that.

As it turned out...a few weeks later my daughter surprised me with the good news. So it was her baby my mother was showing me! Almost immediately though, she developed complications...serious ones. My sisters and I started a novena to Saint Anne...my father lit candles and prayed before the Blessed Sacrament. She showed signs of improvement...in fact so much so that the doctor took her off bedrest and allowed her to return to work. Hallelujah! Our prayers were answered.

Oh what fools we mortals be...

On her second day back to work, my daughter called me hysterical...her water had broken. This can't be! She's only 20 weeks!! What about the novenas...what about the prayers before the living Jesus...what about my mother's visit????? This isn't funny God!

If I lay here...if I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

All that I am, all that I've ever been
A tear in your perfect eyes
They're all I can see
I don't know where
Confused about how as well
Just know that these things
Will never change for us at all

I was embraced by God...I have no doubt. My Mother was telling me Joshua is safely enthroned in heaven...I have no doubt. Just don't ask me why.

Show Me A Garden

When tragedy strikes, as it most assuredly will at some point in our lives, most people react with disbelief. "How could this possibly happen? I followed all the rules...I am a good person...I believe in God"...etc. Some people demand answers. "It's the doctor's fault...it's society's fault...it's God's fault"...etc. A few even imagine themselves as having the answers already. "You brought this on yourself...it's better this way...God wanted it this way"...etc. Somethings, however, we may never know this side of heaven. As it should be.

I think there is a reason God's plan for our redemption played out partly in a garden. As Jesus poured out his blood as tears in the Garden of Gethsemane, watering the rocky soil of our hardened hearts, He anticipated the beauty and bounty of the flowers that would bloom in the hearts of those who trusted in God for their comfort.

There are those who scoff at this idea...who say they cannot...will not...believe in a God who allows such suffering. Imagine, though, a flower sitting in the sun. No clouds to darken the day, no rain to pelt the soft delicate petals. The warm sun and gentle breezes makes one lazy day drift into the next. Bliss you say? To some maybe. But after too many days of fair weather, the sun, which once gave warmth, now begins to scorch. The lack of rain now has sapped the plant of life...and that gentle breeze blows the dusty remains away. Gone for all eternity.

Our souls are like that long ago garden...the soil might no longer be hardened and rocky, but it is still muddy with doubt and despair. We sow that soil with the seeds of our sorrows. We water it with our tears. We wait,in faith,for the flowers to emerge. And as that tiny sprout breaks free from it's grave and seeks the source of life itself, it grows in beauty and gives hope to the promise that God has given...that no tear is ever unnoticed...or wasted.

A tiny seed has been planted in our family garden. In faith, he has been planted in the Lord. In faith, he will blossom with the Lord. In faith, I believe the yellow rose and the fair white lily grace the fields of heaven awaiting our time to join them.

Rest in Peace and may the perpetual light of Christ shine upon them.


Shirley Dean Strangis 11/24/35-11/6/09

Joshua Joseph Kurta 02/22/11

Daddy's Little Girl

If the best remedy for anger is delay... you may never hear from me again.

Will It Go Round In Circles

I made a big deal about Brian graduating in my last post...and it was. However.......I think after all the hype we might have a little post holiday blues around here. Case in point : They have monthly fire drills where he works (no little exercise when you consider that's 5 floors of developmentally delayed consumers that need to be shepherded out safely). Needless to say the staff (God bless them) have a huge responsibility there and they depend on a lot of co-operation from the young men and women they have on their list. Brian's job coach had a little "issue"...namely she couldn't find him!!!! After a brief search he was found safely with another staff member. He said he didn't feel like exiting the building with Nicole...he wanted to be with his friend who has a different job coach. So the conversation went like this....

Me: Brian...you put a lot of people...plus yourself...in danger. Suppose there was a real fire. No one should be put in harm's way because they have to search for you because you aren't following the rules. You need to obey the adults that are in charge of you.

Brian: I'm an adult.

Me:Yes I know but you have to obey the responsible adults at work.

Brian: I am a responsible adult.

Me: Yes but you need to obey the adults that make the decisions.

Brian: I make decisions... see (as he holds up his voter ID card he just got in the mail)

Me: Okay...then let's put it this way...you have to obey the person at work that signs your paycheck.

Brian: I get paid tomorrow. Can we go shopping? To the Army store. I need helmets.

Me: For what?

Brian: For my army.

Me: What Army?

Brian: MY army. I am out of here!

Me: Well I don't think so. I don't have any money for the army store.

Brian: I have money!

Me: Your money is for bowling and your Hab group and your lunch on Fridays.

Brian:That's it. You're fired.

Me: You can't fire me. I'm your mother!

Brian: Yeah? Well I'm an adult!

Me: Yes but I am still responsible for you.

Brian: I'm a responsible adult!

Me: Okay...let's try this...you have to obey the person here who feeds you and does your laundry.

Brian: I graduated you know. I can get a house like my oldest brother Pat. I'm marrying Meghan and you can't come.


Oh....if only

Party Like It's 1999

How many choices do we make in a day...a week...a lifetime? I'm no
mathematician but I'm guessing the answer is... A LOT! Some choices
we struggle over (like staying in school...who to marry...whether we
should smother our children in their sleep after a long exhausting
rainy day when the only form of entertainment involved permanent
markers and freshly painted white walls). Some are no brainers (like
vegetables before dessert...paying the bills before buying that
fabulous new handbag...having a glass of wine before deciding whether
we should smother our children in their sleep after a long and
exhausting rainy day when the only form of entertainment involved
permanent markers and freshly painted white walls). Then there are
the "heads or tails" kinds of choices where all available answers seem
valid...or invalid as the case may be. Of course nothing could be
further from the truth. There can only be one right answer...it's just
the agonizing over how we might look to others that causes us to even
give things a second thought. I say this because choices are very
personal things. We can't always see the forest for the trees and
hindsight is always 20/20 but still the choice is always our own. Our
choices are the narrators of our lives. They tell the world what's in
our hearts...what's important to us...what we can and cannot live
without. That is different for everyone... My car totally died
recently. I have been out of work for almost a year now and I need a
car to search for a job. My son just graduated from high school with
honors after 18 long years of special education. He deserves a party.
Money is tight to say the least. Hmm...car...party...car...party.
Like I said...some choices are no brainers. Life is short...party
like it's 1999!

If I Had A Million Dollars

Hey I'll be the first to admit...I've indulged that fantasy...you know, the one where you're smiling ear to ear holding a cardboard check the size of Texas. The thing is though, in my fantasy I'm usually passing out checks the size of Pennsylvania to a long list of relatives, friends, and worthwhile charities. Call me crazy (you wouldn't be the first) but the older I get, the less I seem to need. Seriously, my 1300sq ft Cape Cod with the 1993 Toyota Camry in the drive satisfies me. Not that I begrudge people nice things, but I don't buy into the consumerism that is prevalent in this country. I used to think it was because I was raised by two very sensible, financially responsible parents who taught me the value of living within your means and saving for a rainy day. (BTW thanks Mom and Dad) But it's so much more than that.I'll give you fair warning...this post is political...so for all those squeamish souls who like their truth sugar coated avert your eyes now.

The "progressives" in our government are big on this "income redistribution" thing. They see the disparity between the rich and the poor as something that only the government can fix. You know the old saying "the road to hell is paved with good intentions"? Well hold on to your hats cause this elevator is plunging to the basement. We ARE our brothers keepers...that much is true...but our salvation is not won by having the government confiscate our money to "spread the wealth around" We wonder why the world is so cold and rude and intolerant...well it's because we have stopped having a personal connection to our fellow man. We have come to rely on a faceless bureaucracy instead of each other...instead of God.

What exactly does it mean to be poor anyway? The government would tell you that I am. On paper I would appear to be so. But the only poverty I feel is spiritual poverty. My tiny house, my almost 20 year old car, my modest meals are more than enough for my physical needs. Do I want more? I would be a liar if I said no...but I have all that I need. But do I do enough for my fellow man? If all I did was send my money to Washington then the answer is no! You can't legislate compassion...you can't buy love. Now I know some of you will say "that's all well and fine in LaLa land but those evil, greedy capitalists won't help out of the goodness of their hearts" And you would be right. But are they the only guilty ones? How about all those people who claim they are too busy to help...or don't have the money to help? You know who I mean...the ones who "need" the million dollar home, the 3 car garage to store all those SUV's, the designer clothes, the big screen TV? Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with those things if you can truly afford them. But are they worth putting yourself in debt?

Which leads me back to the progressives. Yes the government is responsible for the safety of it's citizens. But is it worth putting ourselves (and our children, grandchildren, great grandchildren) in debt providing something we should be providing for ourselves?

If I had a million dollars...green dresses and Kraft dinner on me!

I Love A Rainy Night

There is something so soothing about night rain, especially after a long summer's day. The slow rolling bass of thunder in the distance, the air heavy with the scent of so many different flowers all at once. But the thing I love most of all is the cascading cadence of the raindrops as they sing their song... sometimes melancholy...sometimes joyful, sometimes full of passion and fury... but always with a story to tell. I have often thought of rainstorms as part of a conversation that God has with the world. First He draws up the earth's lifeblood to Himself with the sun...in the same silence that only the most intimate of lovers can speak. Then, announcing His presence with resonating authority, He showers us with tender teardrops of hope and encouragement... the lightning illuminating the truth of His love for us. In the morning we find the world clean, fresh, renewed. Like a favorite blanket or toy straight from the dryer, we clutch the day to our hearts giddy with the knowledge we have the best parent ever!

Baby You Can Drive My Car

Not having my own set of wheels sure complicates life for a number of people. There's grandchildren to shuttle back and forth to school and little league, a daughter that needs me to do it, and a son who has a gift card to Target that's burning a hole in his pocket. The only logical (?) solution these past few days has been to take my daughter to work so I can have her car to manage the rest of the schedule. So far I have spent at least 4 hours of every day (and 50 dollars in gas!) behind the wheel of her super cool, sleek, sexy black Jeep Liberty...not the boring old Mom car I used to drive. Amazing how different you feel driving different vehicles! Let's face it, my 15 year old sedan wasn't cool even 15 years ago! I kind of sunk low in it and hoped I didn't know anyone in any of the dozen or so cars that were unfortunate enough to get behind me as I coaxed that thing up a hill. It was begging me to let it die swiftly and with dignity. But Erin's car...now that's a ride worth enjoying. It's a car that begs windows down and stereo up (even if it is Radio Disney). It's a car that says "hey Mr Construction worker... yea I'm looking at you. Yea I'll crank up the stereo while I wait for your buddies to clear the lane." Hope he likes the Jonas Brothers.

Lord Won't You Buy Me a Mercedes Benz

So a funny thing happened today. I was on the phone with my father this morning discussing my recent job interview and Brian's upcoming graduation. I was telling him how encouraged I am by how everything seems to be finally falling into place. He complimented me on my strength and resilience in dealing with the difficulties in my life. I told him I couldn't take all the credit...I think my exact words were "God doesn't always give me what I want but he always gives me what I need so I can't complain". So here's the funny part... you're gonna love this... this afternoon?...my car completely dies!!!! I mean don't bother the tow truck, just roll it over the hill dies! This new job isn't on a bus line so sometime this week I know God will lead me to a cheap reliable car...or a killer sale on a new pair of kicks!

God Doesn't Drive Parked Cars

The sun is shining for the first time in almost three weeks. The icy daggers clinging to the gutters are losing their watery points drip by drip. Cabin fever is starting to set in. Thanks to a pair of new friends, my car has been exhumed from it's powdery grave. Just in time :-) Lent is a journey and I am on my way...

Earth Girls Are Easy

When my life begins to unravel, very often I am the one pulling the strings. It's like picking at a scab...I just can't help myself. By the time I am finished that little surface scratch becomes a lasting scar.

No News is Good News

Finally on line again but really have nothing to say. Just wanted to see if this thing still works. Talk to ya later : )

Luke 2:1-20

And that, Charlie Brown, is what Christmas is all about.

Friends Don't Let Friends Drive Drunk

Something is said to perish when it is prevented from obtaining the end for which it was created. But man is created and ordained for eternal life and as long as he sins he is turned away from that destined end. Still, while he lives, he does not perish entirely for he can yet be saved through God's grace and mercy; but if he dies in sin then he perishes completely.

Saint Thomas Aquinas

Every Silver Lining Has a Cloud

It's been a while since I have posted.....not because I haven't had anything to say, but rather because I have so much to say that I don't know where to start.  I think God forgot to put an "off" switch in my brain.  Anyway......I told someone recently that I hated him.  Of course we both know that is the furthest thing from the truth.  Love and hate are opposite sides of the same coin.  I never hated anyone before.....it's a strange sensation.....very disconcerting.  I don't like it.  So I set my sights out on flipping the coin.  I decided that I would find three things that I will always love him for and then maybe that would chase the anger and bitterness away.  The first two were easy but I struggled to come up with a third.  I finally succeeded though and the list is as follows:

1. he encouraged me to buy a house
    although this is a bittersweet memory because we house hunted together and, before I pushed him off the roller coaster ride, he was talking about having a house and a life together. But this home I have created here is something I will always treasure.

2. he let me cross the finish line first when he ran the Great Race with me
   again though.....when I wanted to do it the next year he told me I was on my own.....after the initial "courting" when he was trying to impress me....the relationship pretty much consisted of doing what he wanted to do and going where he wanted to go. Sure, he made an attempt to ask me what i wanted....but when I told him, he always said "nah...I want to ......." and then that is what we would do. But I will always remember and be grateful for the way he pushed me to keep trying and coaxing me to finish the race....stepping back to let me cross first.

and now for number three....drum roll please

3. for betraying my love and trust
    I know....huh???????  Let me explain.  You see....I have know him for over 13 years.....I have worked with him, I have played with him.....I know him in a way no one else ever will.  I see him as no one else ever has....or will.  In the back of my mind I always knew that something was not right with him........I won't go into detail here because my intention is not to bash him or demean him....afterall I am listing the "good" things I am taking away from this relationship.  Suffice it to say that I am not the only co-worker of his to say that his behavior was odd and immature most times.   But I seem to be the type to be attracted to that....the stray puppy syndrome....the slightly odd, slighly sick stray that I can take home and nurture and love.  I poured my heart and soul into him......tried to teach him what love was all about.  But the thing about love is that it makes you blind....and in my case deaf and dumb too ( mostly dumb)  While I was trying to love him and teach him my way of looking at things....I actually was getting sucked into his way of looking at things......I turned my back on my family and friends.....they knew....they saw what he was like and what he was doing....but I wouldn't listen.  But the way he lied and betrayed my love ( honestly Steve......you even called me to find out the name of that CD that was "ours" so you 
could buy it for her but then tell me you were offended that I returned everything to you because you thought I was saying our memories meant nothing???????  Do you even listen to yourself speak sometimes??????) was the wake up call I needed to break the spell.  Of course, I will never say I am grateful for the mess he left behind concerning Brian(that more than anything reveals his true character....or lack thereof)  But I am grateful to be back to the life I was meant to live....the life full of caring and compassion .....appreciating my friends and family....spoiling my grandchildren.....returning to the faith that has delivered me.  (btw......I want it noted that, although I was screaming and kicking the whole way,  God dragged my sorry butt away from the fire just in time)  But the most important thing is that I don't hate him anymore......I can take the lessons I learned....the good that I was able to extract (hey...nothings all wrong....even a clock that has stopped is right two times a day) and chalk it all up to one more chapter in an neverending story I can (and will) tell about my life.  

So....this thanksgiving....I am thankful for my family.....my faith.....my home....and even thankful  for the time I spent with Steve.  It was a wild ride.  I'm glad it's over....but I enjoyed the thrill of it while it lasted.  I know he won't find the peace and happiness he's looking for just yet and I feel bad for him for that....I truly do...hopefully someday he will see the truth. I still believe in miracles .....I was granted one......I pray that he gets his too.   I am sorry that I sounded so mean and bitter these past few months on this blog.....you will never understand how badly you hurt me and Brian....but I don't want to be defined by that because I believe there's a better way to live.......love and forgiveness are the gifts I am most grateful for this thanksgiving.....both recieved and given.