THE GOAT RODEO

One of my blog readers, who does not post comments, is making a change in her weight. She’s doing it slowly, and for good reasons. Her own. Not pressure from the outside, just because it’s her time and that’s what she wants to do. Which is what’s perfect about her plan.

You can drag people to rehab, but I wonder how many of them stick it out after? If you’re dragged and worked on 24/7 by people who think you are, too fat, thin, on drugs, drink, and you’re not ready to change, isn’t that brain washing? It becomes easy to follow a set plan, but if you’re off the plan and think you can try some…I’m believe, as the daughter of an alcoholic, that you will not change, until you are ready. If you’ve hit rock bottom with anything, and it’s you who reaches out, is your chance of success better? Is there a study on this somewhere? I know people who are educated in jail have far lower recidivism rates (Bunti, you work with kids whose parents are incarcerated, what’ your take)?

Still, the thought of burdening the tax payer with the costs of educating criminals is repugnant to many. Even if it means that ultimately, we spend less on them, because they don’t repeat offend. We have a, “lock em up and toss away the key,” mentality that does not look at how to keep people from going back to the way it was.

I’m not a fan of Oprah’s, but it’s either her, or that horrid little man, “Dr. Phil,” who say, “to know better, is to do better.” I like the phrase.

If this sounds like I’m on a lefty rant, or that I equate weight gain with crime, you’re missing the point. I just have seen people start to change their lives and I try to support them. I don’t care if anyone loses so much as an ounce, as long as they don’t come out of the journey worse off than when they went in. Sure Diets are to lose weight and jails are to hold criminals, but without fundamental life change, what good is either of those things?

I guess the moral of this story is that no one can tell you you’re evil, horrible, fat, ugly…you name it, without your permission. My blog reader has a closed blog. She wants her support group to read it, not people who will pull her down, and some will. Changing your life, for better or worse shakes up the world of ourselves and those around us. That’s why people enable. I’ve done it, it’s been done to me. Sometimes, well meaning love and support is in the guise of enabling. My grandma fed people she loved. I do the same darn thing. Enabler. I don’t want people in my life to change. I want isostasis. Everything even. Reaching out to make change threatens that for everyone around us, especially ourselves.

So to my friend, you go girl. If this is your path, I support you. If you do not end up walking this path, I still support you. This is your life, your choice, your road and one step at a time, as you are ready to take them. I’ve got your hand, but you have to do the pulling.

His blood pressure is178-180 diastolic. They can’t get it down. His wife says it’s the fault of myself and my sister. I decided if she was going to spend calls telling me I could never succeed anything, I would tell her I loved her, but I was not a failure and did not wish to listen to it. Then, politely exit from the conversation. Now, I’m bad for not sitting on the phone while she berates me. I love her and criticism is fine, but to be, “killing my father because I won’t smooth it all over?” The problem is part of me holds myself responsible. My stress level is through the roof and I’m shaking and sick because of this.

We could lose daddy here and it’s my fault? I feel horrible and responsible, because those people know how to push my buttons. My dad could die. Shut up, don’t put anyone down and love one another for the short time we have left together. He’s 85, well over 200 pounds, drinks all day and those are better reasons for his high blood pressure. Not me acceding to the will of my sister about when and how we will talk to my dad. I refused to be shushed, because she does not like what I say, and she can rant off that I’m a terrible parent all day. Four kids, special needs, a note from JJs teacher that he was an out of control brat, yesterday. I’m baling as fast a I can. Either get in the boat and bail with me, or stop pointing out it’s sinking. I think that’s not too much to ask.

I don’t want to lose daddy. I can’t take it His mind vital and we love one another. Please, please can’t they put it all aside and stop blaming someone who only wants a peaceful visit.

I know this is a stupid, whiny little rant and I have so much to be grateful for in this world. I know this was a luxury dream I could never afford and that it was stupid to even think about it. HOWEVER! I’m the forty six year old mom of four special needs kids and even though I’m too old, too tired and too…not cool enough, I wish I could go to the, “Black Eyed Peas,” concert.

Yes, yes, yes…I hear you. People more worthy than me should go and if it was a kid, or me and the kid loved them as much as I do, the kid could have the ticket. I just think they are funny, sarcastic, do not take themselves seriously and are pretty normal, for famous people. You do hear of some mistakes they make, but lord knows I make mistakes and I’m in no position to judge squat. I just have to let it go and watch their videos on my bike while I ride (The stationary bike), but I still want to go.

We all have times in our live where we cannot do what we want to do. Where we are stuck for money, time, patience. We’ve all been dumped by friends and loved ones and don’t understand it. We all are afraid of failure and success and I can’t bargain, nor justify getting sro tickets for one hundred dollars, even if I had it.

We all learn the lesson of getting what we need, and sometimes, not even that. There are over one million people in Haiti that are still displaced. That sleep under sheets in the rainy season, just now starting, that have nothing. Some of them are trying to survive so hard that they don’t talk about the loss of family members, of children, until far into conversations with reporters. The pain is unimaginable, but they need food, shelter, safe water. Survival, the need to wake up and move on tomorrow, is not a hope for our race. It’s a need so pressing, so primal, we can never shed it.

People can give up on life, on joy, on sorrow, will. Give up on sorrow? We all need hard times, lean times, times of pain to learn the gift of empathy. Not sympathy. Sympathy is knowing without understanding and it’s wonderful at a funeral, needed emotion. Empathy is more about all feelings. True empathy is knowing, understanding, allowing ourselves to feel what our fellow man feels. Not just, “feeling sorry for others.” This goes way beyond pity. So,me, think it’s the gift of a psychic. We are all equipped to feel empathy, unless we are born without it. Those who cannot fee will often become sociopaths, harming others to try to understand what they are feeling, because those people cannot. Yes, I’m talking from the top of my head here, but there are several articles in major publications that lead me to this thought.
No, not the, “National Enquirer.”

We turn empathy off, if we get too deep. Some people have to in order to function, do their jobs. Doctors care, but if they cared too much they would not be able to work. Nurses too anyone who works with the dead, or dying is in touch with true empathy, but has learned to regulate it to move on and feel their own joy. Anger trips that switch, that shuts out empathy. Grudges, jealousy, hate, the inability to forgive. Not forgiving does nothing for the person we are angry with. It does everything damaging to our souls. Am I being esoteric? Too esoteric when I’m just whining about missing a concert? Probably.

So, all in all, I’m blessed and lucky, even with the stupid roof issues. Yes, we have them, on the other side now. I find it funny and know Gene and I can fix it, as soon as spring visits. We can do anything, together. I think that’s what’s really important. More important than anything is my tie to him and learning to be a team.

So, between JJ’s swearing and sobbing in school and Steven taking everything I say literally, I have enough on my plate and no time for fun at a concert. I get out. I’m running tomorrow. That comes this summer, when Serena returns to the Festival and Feisty Me is back in her rightful place, the lanes, harassing the people and making them laugh.

I guess missing a concert isn’t so bad and you know what? My hearing will still be great. I can detect the opening of contraband house away. I’d say that’s pretty darn good. How do you think I get all the candy bars? Kidding.

Okay, here’s the straight poop, as I see it, because you asked for it. “Run away, run away. Sorry, Monty Python fan.

First, a disclaimer. I am not a doctor, nurse, nutritionist, or know anything about anyone else losing weight. This is my best stuff based on 30 years of obesity and ten years (not counting being a small child) of being smaller, then finally, thin. It’s not for everyone and I am not after a world of same-size people. I applaud stores like, Lane Bryant and Forever 21, who has a decent larger sizes department. I abhor stores that take a size six and cut it bigger. Large people are not built the same as small people and someone needs to see this. I’m a freaking rail and Kohl’s does not carry a size I can wear, cause I’m a 0, with hips. Did I plan on this size? No. It happened because I exercise and don’t eat a lot. I’m not deprived, nor hungry. I’m busy and happy. So, if you think I’m full of it, say so, nicely, in the comments and move on. I probably am and you should check with your doctor before starting a weight-loss regime.

Another disclaimer. I openly talk about my child sexual abuse. Not for pity, no pity allowed. Rather, it explains my eating trigger. It’s an important part of why I gained weight and it came into play when I lost weight. If this sort of frank talk bothers you, for any reason, please don’t read this. I don’t want to hurt anyone, nor make them feel bad. I do want to point out that as a child, I was a victim. I am now a survivor. I no longer can, nor will blame my mistakes on things that happened then, because I long ago moved on and forgave those people and my parents for not reading my mind. I also forgave myself. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve been through it. The point is, that I have open an frank dialogs about this, because it’s a silent horror. We portray it in Television and Movies, Books and Blogs, but many people still don’t, “get it,” and blame is placed on the victim. I did nothing wrong. End of story. Nor did anyone else who was molested as a child. Believe me, I’ve seen a naked four year old running around, shrieking that he’s naked, with glee. There is NOTHING sexy about it. I just want to clothe them before they show off their equipment to the neighbors. Which worked, till Herne got out of the house naked once. We now alarm our doors. Autism and escaping go hand in hand.

Now, let Nancy’s Tips begin.

I’m not talking competly out my hind-end here. I am a personal trainer, although I’m not training now. Just starting my makeup business and that’s eating me alive, literally. I’m working on it from the moment I wake up, till I crash, unless it’s Bones, or Criminal Minds night (last night was fantastic. Scary, and brought me to a bad place, child sexual abuse. I’ve given speeches on it, and I forgave long ago, but I don’t forget.)

I wandered, sorry. Back to the tips.

1. Don’t go cold turkey on food. Food is not just a drug, it’s a need in our lives. If we deny ourselves every special thing we will fail. It can act like a drug for some people and here’s the tangled web. It comforts us, fills us with love that we lacked, or lack. It hid my body, because I was abused and was told by my abuser that I had a beautiful body. In my kid’s mind, if I wrecked it, I would be undesireable. Yet, I did appreciate the kind words my abusor had for me. It’s very insidsious. He made me feel special. He told me I was pretty and sweet, then…You can see why I used food as a comfort. It never left me with someone who hurt me. Never left me, period. My mom died. To my sixteen year old, already abused mind, I caused her death. My abuser told me if I told anyone, ever she would die. I told her a week before she died. I was responsible. The abuse had stopped when I was twelve and my mom caught wind from one of his family members that he was a possible abuser. I didn’t know that, but we made a trip to their house. I stayed outside and played with his four year old grandaughter, while my mom talked to his wife. His grandaughter, repeatedly, grabbed my breasts. They moved out of town to Washington state a week later. Still, my mom, my fault because I had a nice body, eat up. Pork it down and throw it up when you want to lose a few pounds and get a little praise. We all have our reasons. Some dramatic, some simply that we were never taught another way. Our parents give us soft drinks as babies and wonder why? It’s a mess. The reasons matter and they don’t. I am not someone who believes into delving into the past to dredge up every horrible memory to make changes in our lives. As I lost weight, I noticed that at certain weights I would start dreaming of the past, or remembering stuff from my youth. It was purging as I hit the weight I was then. I looked at it, took my blame, laid the other blame to rest and moved on. Mind you, I was in my late thirties, early forties. A place where self examination comes with the territory. I don’t think this will happen for others. It seems to be a, “Nancy,” thing.

2. Expect this to be a life change, not a temporary change. You will need to change the way you look at the world. End of story. You’re not going to do this for a while, then go back to the way it was before.

3. Life changes are terrifying. That’s why people can’t commit, and are afraid to move away for better jobs. We all are scared of making bad choices and change. Okay, I embrace change, but I still wash my hair the exact same way, every day. If I moved it around, my shower routine, I’m afraid I’d forget to soap someplace. Silly, the example is silly. Real? Absolutely. We are creatures of habit. Take a fish detractor to a sushi restaurant. Most of it is fish, but there are veggie options and usually wonderful soups with beef. They will only focus on the raw fish and get very uncomfortable. Weight loss and keeping it off changes our comfort zone for life. That’s a darn long time. When I think of running, biking or swimming every day for the rest of my life, it terrifies me. If I think about today, I’m fine. Just one change at a time, one day at a time.

4. You’re going to have to be realistic. Are you so large you cannot exercise, or wipe yourself I was. It hurt my feet to walk. I was 320 pounds and 5′2″. That’s huge. I could not do it alone and weight loss surgery is a start. It’s not magic bullet, a panacea, or, “the easy way to lose weight.” I hear people say, “Well, if I get too fat, I can get surgery.” I’ve lost health by being so large. I lost years of my life with only three photos to show for it. It took being denied a ride at an amusement park to wake my ass up. I did have surgery, ten years ago. That’s a long time to keep the weight off. I didn’t lose all of it from the surgery. I got to a far healthier 190, but the rest was a two year push, eight years out by me. No more nets. My stomach is the size of a normal persons and I know that. The push was a help, but not even my breakthrough. That came later. When I decided to forgive others, because my grudges only hurt me.

5. It’s a spiritual journey. I don’t care who, or what you worship. Weight loss is helped by prayer, meditation, self reflection, a journal that asks the universe to help you find what you really want out of it. Better health? Looking younger? (actually, your face sags and you look older, unless you nip it at a young age, but that’s what a mini-face-lift is for and I’m getting one. I’ve abandoned the idea of boobs, but a lift is a good idea). You need everyone that supports you aboard the boat and you will be surprised at the people who sabotage you by bringing you crap. Just tell the people who love you no matter what. Not the people who tell you to finish your meal. If that includes your parents, just visit them in places between meals and not when they can feed you.

6. You need to make-over your kitchen. One meal at a time. Just take one meal a day and cut out 1/4 of the calories. You won’t see huge changes on the scale, but you won’t feel deprived. A little change here, or there, is the best way to deal with it. Not cold turkey, unless you have surgery, then you go cold turkey no matter what. Walk for five minutes today. Five. Anyone can do something for five minutes. Yes, it might be moving slowly, but it’s a start. If you’re so large you cannot walk for five minutes, see your doctor. Seriously. It’s time to find another plan. Blown knees? Invest in a used exercise bike, or an elliptical trainer. Not everyone was meant to run. I do it cause it’s faster.

7. The exercise equipment in your house should never, not for one moment, hold anything, but the person using it. Use it. Use it as long as you can and use it again tomorrow and the day after that. You can use it for a shorter time a couple days a week, but you need to use it every single day. End of story.

8. If you’re making excuses about why you can’t do this, or that, you’re lying to yourself. Admit it and make the decision that you are not ready, or confront your lies. Don’t tell me you can’t because your kids eat food and you eat with them. Mine have chips sometimes. I’ll have a chip, or two, but I also have celery. Fills me up, crunches and takes salt. Although, I’m really moving the salt out of my diet now. Low blood pressure, or no, it’s time. I’m not salting things anymore. No point in it.

9. I eat a separate meal many nights. Kids have hot dogs, and I eat a Lean Cuisine with a large salad and very little dressing. I did not start out like that. I started with the smaller portion size, and added the salad later. I need to go lower sodium, so now I cook chicken breasts I marinade in low fat sauces, like Orange and Lemon Juice with pepper. It’s not as nice as the hot dogs, at first, but pretty soon hot dogs make you want to hurl.

10. Get the soda out. Get the Corn Syrup out. Studies are starting to show that artificial sweeteners (not Stevia, btw) are turning off the receptors that say we are full. If you cut out one thing, make it pop (soda, Coke, depending on where you live) and drink water. Again, cut the heck down. Have one diet drink a day and that’s all. Savor it. Enjoy the heck out of it. Enjoy, and be thankful for every mouthful of food. For the farmers, who harvested your food, or the meat packers, anything, just be grateful that there was a loss of life for you to live. Even if that life is an eggplant. BTW, Eggplant Parmesan has more calories than the chicken.

11. There is such a thing as a fat vegetarian. I was one. Just get 60 grams of protein a day. That’s all you need, unless you’re in training for a marathon, etc.

12. You will not lose weight training for a big sports event. You burn a huge number of calories and your body will demand that back. Give them to it. Build muscle. Muscle weighs more than fat. Muscle burns calories, fat sits there.

13. You need carbs. to hell with the Atkins Diet. He died of a heart attack. Tell you anything? You need a balanced mix of heavy breads (not that corn syrup sweet gunk they call wheat bread. It should be heavy). Not potatoes, or corn (btw, chew corn. You can tell if you are eating too fast by the end product of corn). You want water filled fruits and veggies and don’t trust the stuff in the pre-washed packs. I learned that one the hard way. Wash your greens, dry them in a towel and make your own pre-packs. Cut up celery and carrots and have bananas around. I’m not saying low sugar, full of fat, or low fat, full of sugar, I’m talking whole foods. Process them one day a week. I tend to put together healthy meals, partially cook and freeze them. Makes Dominoes sound less than appealing. Get a rice cooker and start switching to brown rice. See what happens if you get gluten out for two weeks. That’s wheat products. Some people are allergic to it and it makes them hungrier. If you’re not gluten sensitive, try dairy. I got a lot of dairy out and it helped.

14. Watch your soy intake. Soy makes estrogen and it’s in everything. We are getting bombarded with soy these days and it’s one of the fastest growing allergies in America. The numbers are huge. My husband has a soy allergy and it makes him incredible hungry if he eats it. It also gives him hives and makes his throat close up. His body goes into defense mode and tries to get the soy out. I know everyone talks about the health benefits, but it also can create man-boobs. Seriously. My ten year old has a moustache. From soy in his diet. I didn’t say that, my reasonable, non confrontational, goes by the old ways (ala 1950’s) doctor did.

15. If you fall off the wagon, stop the horses and get your ass back on it. “I cheated, I’m a failure. I’m supposed to be fat.” Um, WRONG!! You cheated, you were probably craving that food, you gave in. Start again the next morning. Don’t give up, or cut your calories down to nothing. Don’t make up a lost day. It’s over and done with. Move on.

16. Study after study has shown that weighing yourself every day will help keep weight off. So do it. Pick a time of day (I am very uptight about this), same time, same scale, same station and do it. I use one scale. I am honest at the doctors office, and tell them my weight. I don’t get on their scale. Why? They weigh me fully clothed with shoes, usually boots on. That can add 5+ pounds to my weight. It’s discouraging and can derail you. Tell them you’re going through a lifestyle change in regards to your health and are only weighing yourself on your scale. This does not work before surgery, or at the Gyno’s office, but they deduct for clothing.

17. You’re going to go up go down, move around, stall for months at a time and feel like a failure. STOP WHINING! Up your exercise minutes by five minutes a day. Eat at least 1400 calories a day. I’d like to see people find out what the weight they want to be is and instead of eating less, eat that amount. For example, to maintain my ideal weight, I need to consume almost 2000 calories a day. I do. I don’t dip into starvation mode. My stupid body thinks I’m dying and grabs onto every calorie and holds it. If you find yourself doing that, up your calories by 100 a day and eat theme
19. The smaller plate thing works.

20. You will go up and down and feel like a success and failure. If you tell someone and they make a crack, DON’T TELL THEM ANYMORE! My stepmother thinks I’m too thin. The doctor says I’m a healthy runner and that runners are tiny. He assured me I would put some weight on if I cut down on the running. I’m 110, because I am fastest and can maintain distance at this weight. It’s where I naturally fall when I’m training for distance running. I am not anorexic, binging and purging, or sneaking food, or scraping food from my plate. I’ve retrained my signals. I eat when I am hungry and stop when I am full. It took years and I’m not out of the woods. I will have to watch this the rest of my life.

21. People go back. You can’t eat like the rest of the world. Not if you’re truly obese. You just have to deal. I didn’t get fat eating restaurant food. I ate my cooking. I now make makeup. It’s colorful and 0 calories. It saved me. Something will be there to fill your hands, besides food. Find it. Turn off the TV and stop playing WoW. Just for ten minutes a day.

I use www.fitday.com. It’s free, or for a reasonable price you can download a full version to your computer. It will allow you to watch trends, like moods, to help you get at the core of why. We all have a why and it’s not what we think it is. It’s not your excuses. It’s deeper than that. Yes, fresh produce is expensive. Look for sales and buy frozen. Juice is good for you, but whole fruits in season are better if you can. If you can’t do it, cause you’re not ready, then fine. Don’t. It’s a huge change. I was eating 4000 calories a day. Cut it to 3750 and there was a change. Do that till I am not panicky about it and lower again. Don’t starve yourself, take pills, blend smoothies (high in calories and a drink. Drinks don’t fill you up, unless you use a whey powder in them for protein. I use Designer Whey). Don’t fast on juice. You will starve and be miserable. Just a few calories here and there and a little exercise. When you’ve got that, go for more. Why is this a race? Life is insane. Don’t race to lose weight. It takes time to remove it, or you will gain it back. Carly Simon had the same surgery I did. She’s over 200 now and I’m 110. The difference? She got comfortable. I pushed harder, found exercise and stayed nervous if I saw a couple extra pounds on the scale. No paranoid, but I adjust my calorie intake, eat snacks all day (healthy, and no. Pretzels won’t work, unless they are whole wheat and you limit yourself) and don’t beat myself up. I know that couple of pounds took a little time to creep on. I don’t despair, nor bemoan it. I don’t do a fifty mile bike ride. I just eat a little less and push a little harder on the bike. End of story.

That’s not all of it, but if I told you all of it you’d be asleep by now. You probably are already.

So, a recap surgery is not an answer for everyone, in fact, it’s a place to start. Not finish. You don’t have to do this all at once and if someone is submarining you, avoid them, or learn to get around it. I share desert with my dad. He’s into desert. He gets pissy if I don’t have any, so we share. I tell him I’m happy about the desert and believe me, I am. I just have three cherished bites though and I lick that spoon clean. Every bite is fully enjoyed. I want my last bite of food on earth to be high quality, healthy and delicious. If I eat every day like it’s my last day. The day I want to be really good to make up for the really bad, I taste my food. No wolfing, no stuffing, no speed. Just one small and delicious bite at a time. Nothing that tastes bad, and I am an adult and therefore not required to clean my plate.

Love and kisses and much of this is backed up by studies, but some of it is common sense. You know all this. It’s just hard to start. I’m here. Mail me. Talk to me. I am not a doctor, nor a weight loss expert, but I’m happy to force you into push-ups. I m someone that can help keep you accountable. Many people on the Internet are interest in wight loss. Not, “in your face, look what I did, neener,” stuff, but honest talk about the good and bad. Start a blog. Don’t get in with a group that hates you if you have an off week, or day. Support only. Tell Aunt May the cookies were delish and pass them around your office. Have your favorites, but that’s it. Cherish them and don’t let anyone, not your family, not you scoff. Don’t even tell them what you are doing. Just do it.

If you are happy and healthy where you are Dump this. You don’t have to be thin to be healthy. Lots of thin people are not healthy at all. A woman should be soft and sexy. You’re not going to look like a magazine. EVER! They are Photoshopped to death. Seriously. I do makeup and I see it all the time. Just do what you can and take away the advice that is right for you. This is my journey. Yours will not and should not be the same.

This is *YOUR* life. Find out your reachable goals and stop making excuses about why you’re too, poor, tired, overwhelmed, busy at work, fat to achieve them and find a way. Maybe not today. I want to go to India. It’s going to take another year, but it’s finally planned and will happen. I will walk in the footprints of some of the people I’ve admired most in my life. I have to be thin to be comfortable in those itty seats and wear a sari and not look like a dork (Okay, everyone that is not Indian looks like a dork in a Sari, but not as much as if you’re thinner). I can buy off the rack clothing there, cheap. I could not before. It was a silly reason to lose weight, but so what? It kept me going. Reading about Punjab while I drank tea. Watching YouTube videos of Fergie and the Black Eyed Peas while I cranked out another mile. Getting so far out, that I had to go back the five miles, no matter what. Find your reason, or don’t. There is no perfect weight. Just you’re perfect self. No one else can tell you who that is. Play around and figure it out. You’ll get there. Stop using food to replace lost love, childhood pain or other excuse. If you are truly happy where you are, then tell the people who are telling you to lose weight to stuff it. I guarantee you that when and if you lose it, they will find other things to pick on you about. Make you happy, for you.

Oh, and clean your house a little at a time. I suggest Flylady, although I refuse to wear shoes in my home. Fifteen minutes a day is not too long to clean a little. I’m getting the top of my dresser clean this morning.

Recently, I’ve had some people wonder if I was really as large as I said I was. Um, who would lie about being a ginormous person? But people are curious, so without malice, just to inform and share and maybe inspire, is me before and recently.

Okay, these are technically Internet colors, but those don’t really apply anymore, anyway. Monitors and video cards can display almost any color today. However, for the color challenged, me, I love this site.

Color Scheme Designer 3

I use it to create colors, compliment colors and just play around with possible eye color combos. That’s not what it’s for, but I love it anyway and the designers are getting a donation from me. As soon as I finish stocking inventory.

Dearest ones in heaven, and my darling Bunti and Bea on Earth. This is for you.

Feel you’re boobies, feel them once a month.
Get to know your girls, perhaps take them to lunch.
Feel them in the shower, slippery soap will help.
Have them felt by another, they will be impressed (and happy).

Feel your boobies, and do it quick.
Grab those mammaries, don’t make it hard.
Hell, if you have to, strip off in the backyard.

Don’t keep it to yourself, if you find a bump, or lump.
If the doctor does not listen, trash his ass in the dump.
Get your mammograms, it hardly hurts.
and for finding boobie trouble really works.
Make sure an ultrasound is done too.
It can find things better than you.

So schedule a day, just once a month.
Treat yourself to a facial, maybe some chocolate junk.
Grab your soap and a plastic bag, that can help you feel a teeny bump in your bags.
Even if they’re tiny, even if they’re moobs, you deserve the best, so check those dang things too.

Now, I am done with my lecture, oh so dumb, but I know there are smiles, and clucks of joy today, because as my darling said, “fuck cancer,” anyway.

Seriously, if you develop a lump in your breasts, see a doctor right away. If the doctor refuses you a test, find another one. If you wake up one morning and one breast is suddenly huge, go to the doctor THAT DAY! Doc can’t see you? E.R. Yes, really. This can mean viral breast cancer and it’s serious.

Sue and Serenity should not die in vain. Get it for them, yourself, your family, your dog Peetie. I don’t care. Check your breasts, get your mammogams. It’s not painful for more than a second and honestly, I’d rather have a squashed boob, than wait till it’s too late.

I’ll never forget.

John Perry (Jack) Ammon, my mom’s little brother, passed in the night. Mom and Grandma Jessie were the glue that held the family together and when they passed, the family went their separate ways. Still, I attended his 50th anniversary with his wife, “Aunt Barb,” and hugged him and told him how much I missed him. It was nice and his son and I both run, albeit my cousin, “Bobby,” qualified for the Boston Marathon this year and that won’t happen with me.

Jack was like his dad, Perry. He looked like him, he barked like him and he and my mom were at odds a lot as children. The only girl, sandwiched between two rambunctious boys, she did girly things, but she also taught me to camp and fish. She would not give her brothers the pleasure of being scared by worms, or whatever they did to her.

I was planning to be in Florida this weekend, but all I could hear was one of my mom’s talks to my sister and I, “All you’ll have someday is one another. I don’t care if you don’t always get along. Just love one another.”

Mom made weekly phone calls to her brothers and spoke of them often. Again, family glue.

The plan is to bury Jack this weekend. How they’re going to pull that off is beyond me, but if Barb sets her mind to it, she can move mountains.

Jack was a piece of mom. One of the last pieces. Someone who held her memory dear and tight. Now they’re together. He’s with his parents and son, Brett. Is it wrong of me to be jealous? My turn will come, sooner than I want, I’m sure. Still, to see those precious people. I almost feel my mom. I felt her presence in the room last night. It was not there for me, or my comfort. Just a tingling sense that Jack was ready and mom was waiting for him.

and I sit beside my lit candle, waiting…a phone call, an e-mail. I don’t want anyone to reach out right now. To talk. Just sit, think, be, breath. Conversation seems like too much work. I can’t cry, not yet. Where there is life…

Agni, spirit of God, carry my prayers to heaven.

Is there something there? I don’t know. I hold my hopes in my heart, while my mind tried to bend itself around a life after this one. I feel defective. I don’t seem to grasp, what others believe unfailingly. There is life before, there is life after, lie is unending.

Energy is neither created, nor destroyed.

Warm kittens cuddle me. Snuggle against to to put out the cold in a house with heat low enough to require slippers. I don’t do too warm. Too warm is a heat bill that turns my husband’s face red and purple. I do my part. It’s a small thing that makes him happy. A little gift wrapped in my heart.

“That’s what sweaters are for. Put one on, dag-nabbit.”

The candle dances in a breeze I do not feel. Warm invitation to as empty cold fills my insides. Denial, acceptance?

“Merry meet and merry part, and merry meet again.”

The, “legal,” stages of grief. I’ve never had a loss where I felt them all. There was no bargaining this time. Bargaining with God is a worthless endeavor and never changes anything. Pull your courage from within. It’s all inside you, just reach for it.

“He died for your sins, but not for yours only, but for the sins of the whole world.”

Cat-tails and candles do not mix. I feel so tired. Herne is alone, but knows where I am. Old enough to play a game, he will wake me if I fall asleep. Better, call my husband and have him hold me. I need silence and he knows how to fill silence with unspoken words of grace and peace. How to touch my heart, and not utter a word.

In Ramadan you fast during the day. From sun-up to sun-down, you deprive your body, so your mind will flower with thoughts of Allah.

I am a woman of words. A woman of action, a woman of dramatic action. Polar opposites. We compliment and deconstruct one another. Push each other off perches of comfortable rest and lend a had back up, when we fall in turn. Can he break out and glow for others, besides me? Can I listen without the next sentence formed?

“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.”

Each permutation of prayer, each ansanic breath, each moment of meditation, each re-telling of a Bible story, a story from the ?Upanishads, the Buddha as he attained enlightenment under the bodhi tree. Bodhisattva. An ability to reach the divine and return to earth to teach others how. Selfless gifting of paradise to others, without guarantee you will be there yourself. After touching, seeing, feeling. How do you leave that? I am selfish. I want to go on after this life. There is so much in me, so much that cannot be tapped in this life. I don’t have time.

“and the other is like unto it, thou shall love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments, hang all the law and the prophets.”

The faces of religion represented here, are but a small taste of my study. A small moment in my life. Each to be examined like a priceless object, one of a kind. You don special gloves and you search through each for meaning. Faith is neither good nor evil. God-like, or of the devil. We humanity, carry our faith, find our path, reach for our ending to give us rest and peace after this life. Faith is not the sticking point of war. Fear is. May Jack rest without fear. May he call all men brother and women sister under the eye of the divine being we each seek to stand before and praise.

I feel helpess, lost, alone. He’s already slipping away and his family would prefer no visitors. He looked at his wife last night and said, “it’s been a hell of a ride.” So like my mom. So something she would say. I can hear her saying it, if I think back. I’m sure she did. Perry-isms. My grandpa Perry used to say things like that. “Go play in traffic, you’re bothering me.” “Don’ cry over my damned grave, appreciate me while I’m alive.” Of course the, “hell of a ride.” I think those might have ben my grandpa’s final words to Jesse, my grandma. Something is saying that’s a real memory, passed to me by my mom.
Uncle Sid woud know. He’s going to try to fly up. My mom’s oldest brother.

A link to my mom, gone. One of the last outside links. Memories from my sister and dad are not like mine. We all saw her vastly differently. We have a hard time agreeing on our childhoods. My memories of place are good and smell. Sue remember’s words, but not tone and dad remembers her look when he came in the door at night.

My fondest wish is to look my precious husband in the eyes one day and say, “It’s been a hell of a ride.”

So far, we’re on track.

Call your aunt, uncle, cousin today. The one you rarely hear from. Have a game plan and mak the call about them. How are they, how is their family. Even if this is the annoying cousin with the perfect children, reach out. It’s just too short not to.

Blessings on the Ammon family today, as they hold my uncles hand and help him grasp my grandparent’s and my mom’s on the other side. Pray there is another side.

I can hear Jack’s voice, “Connie, how the hell have you been?” Before he turns to his son and holds him close for the first time since 1979.

Jack, it’s been a hell of a ride and the more you drink, the better everyone looks.