About this time six years ago...

About this time six years ago I was sitting in a Steak N Shake with my husband. I had devoured a mushroom Swiss burger, because I was completely famished, and was working on my chocolate shake with whipped cream. My eyes were a bit puffy and red and I was exhausted both physically and mentally.

My Daddy had died about two hours earlier in his living room. I was with him and stayed until they took his body away.

In that Steak N Shake I had become numb. I was preparing for the 1,200 mile trip my family would be making for Daddy's funeral by making lists in my head.

I was to give his eulogy. No one asked me to give it. I had just started writing it a year earlier, knowing his days were short. I told him about it after he started at home Hospice care, a few weeks before his death. I told him it was the most important thing I had ever written and what I had so far. He was really touched. With tears in his eyes he gave me one request, that it focus more on Christ and less on him.

That was my Daddy.

I hope I achieved his last request to me and that I made him proud.

I'm not sharing this because I'm upset. In fact, I have no tears in my eyes, nor am I fighting them off.

Father's Day came and went without my even giving a passing thought to his absence. I was elated over our newest son's first Father's Day with my husband. I was focused on the sheer joy on my husband's face as he proudly walked into church and celebrated with his now SIX children.

Daddy would be okay with that.

No, Father's Day didn't pull my heart strings. Neither does today. It was a few days before my husband's family reunion that my heart felt heavy. It was the first thought of my father-in-law holding our new son that sprung tears into my eyes.

I didn't bawl. I just had to blink back some tears. Well, there were those that escaped down my cheeks, but not many. It didn't last long and I was fine several days later as I handed our baby boy over to Pops.  I thought of my Daddy, but just fleetingly.  I choice to enjoy the look on Pop's face at he looked down at his grandson with pride.

But I can't help but think today about how my son will never be held by my Daddy, or have him lay hands on him and pray.

But that's okay, because I happen to believe that my Daddy gets to glance down from heaven time to time. I believe he's seen his new grandson and that he thinks, "He's a fine boy!"

So even though this may sound a bit melancholy, it really isn't. These are just the thoughts that I've had today as I remember my Daddy and how amazingly terrific he was. I still have a void in my heart, and I always will. But I know that I'll see him again one day and as long as we choose to remember him, he's here with us.


Peace Out,
~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

Grumpy People May be More Evolved

On the evolutionary scale, *I* am superior!!!

Grumpy People May be More Evolved

Being intolerant and short-tempered could be a sign of evolutionary superiority.

Researchers at Harvard gave chimpanzees and bonobos, two species of apes that are among the closest living relatives to humans, a variety of reward-based tasks. Chimpanzees, who can be quite grumpy, especially as they age, consistently outperformed the bonobos, who maintain a childlike playfulness throughout their lives.

Victoria Wobble, the project's leader, believes the chimps' ability to put aside their sociability is one of the reasons they are more intelligent and civilized than their genetically similar great ape cousins. She also thinks the evolutionary development of chimpanzees and bonobos could provide insight into our own species.

As for our buddy Oscar, we're pretty sure the well-known grouch is more intelligent than the average green Muppet, but he clearly loses evolutionary points for his squalid living conditions.

Peace Out,

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

No Title

I miss homeschooling my children. I miss my children. It seems like it would be a very easy thing for me to do, just bring them back home. I've thought about it. It wouldn't be that incredibly difficult for three of them. My high schooler is in marching band and my third child is very social. The other ones wouldn't be that big of a deal to them to bring them home.

But then there's me.

Set aside that there is probably something medically wrong with me that, hopefully, will show up somewhere in the 14 viles of blood they drew and the MRI I have in July. More than likely they'll discover that my thyroid is worthless and put me on hormones and that will make me feel like the old me again. Maybe that's all I need. I'm just not sure about me anymore. I haven't felt myself in a few years now. I always wanted to be a stay-at-home-mom with lots of children that I homeschooled. I was happy that way.

Then I started not to feel right. I had the occasional bad day. But now I feel like most of them are bad days. I feel unsettled. I use to enjoy keeping the house and being with my children. Now I drop them off in the morning and come home to hide in my room.

I don't like leaving my house. Yet I don't like staying here either.

I'm like a ship tossed about in a raging sea.

And it's not depression. I'm not sad. I just can't keep up the energy to complete anything. I make plans and I'm energetic for days and weeks. Then ZAP! I'm a Post Toastie. I feel run down, I hardly eat yet gain lots of weight, and the headaches are horrible. I'm hot, I'm cold. I get through the day on sheer will.

Then there are all the women out there telling me to go enjoy my time while the kids are at school. Well, I can't. My children should be with me. But at the same time, I'm glad to drop them off. I'm told to get a job, go to school, but all I want is to be able to be the Mom I was five years ago. I just don't know where she went. I'd like to find her again. She felt her life had purpose and meaning.

This woman I am now feels like a stranger.

Peace Out,

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

Then and Now

My first blog post was September 12, 2003. It's been a long time. My blog has seen my through the illness and death of my father, the insanity of my mother, the crazy bitch who lived across the street from me in Florida. My blog saw me go from an obese 18/20w to a svelte and sexy washboard abs 5/7. It's seen me through homeschooling and the diagnosis of my son with Asperger's. I worked out my nervous breakdown on my blog two years ago and have shared my thoughts on being a woman growing older and how wonderful and magnificent it is.

I use to share really deep thoughts and sometimes the inane ramblings of a person who was..."happy"... Well, some of those were quite funny actually.

I'm finding my blog entries lately to lack substance and meaning. They're mostly superficial with the occasional this-really-sucks entry or political commentary. I think it's because I'm feeling less anonymous and less intimate with the strangers that read what I write. I realize that being anonymous and intimate with strangers sounds incredibly oxymoronic. However, anyone who has shared their deepest thoughts from the depths of their spirit on such a public forum over the last several years has full comprehension of my meaning.

The blogosphere is vast and continuing to grow. And I fear it is loosing its affability.

Peace Out,

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

Thoughts...

I like to take time to think things over. I react. I go through my emmotions. Then comes some kind of clarity.

Today there was another death. One of my dearest friends lost her mother this afternoon. Funny thing is that I knew they were doing home hospice and late this morning I had this overwhelming need to call. When I called she was faithfully sitting next to her mother watching and waiting for the last breath. She died not long after I called.

I remember sitting with my Ma'am-Ma and Daddy as they died just three weeks apart. I remember all of the emmotions I felt. Blogged it all at another blog. I've witnessed birth. I've witnessed death.

People always see the beauty in new life and the purpose in new life. But I think we've forgotten to see the beauty and purpose in death as well. We say that every life has its purpose. I've come to realize this afternoon that so does every death. Not just the release of illness. There's more. Death is intimate, like having a baby or making love. They all cause pain. They all bring joy.

I know the great purpose my Daddy's death was. And it wasn't to release him from the pain of his cancer or to move on from this life. But I know what it was. I can't tell what the purpose was for the tragic deaths of recent. The death of a child from a brain tumor. The death of three 18-year-old boys in a boating accident. The people freezing to death. A wife/mother and her two children dieing in a fire. I can't tell you their purpose. The latter three weren't even expected. They were violent and horrific. Yet I know in my heart and my soul that there was purpose.

Maybe it's because I'm a person of faith.

This afternoon I threw away a porcelain doll my dad gave me a few years before he died. About 2 1/2 years ago it had been knocked over by one of the kids and the foot broke into several pieces. I cried and yelled and searched dilligently for all the pieces. It's been sitting in a cabinet waiting for repair ever since. I had actually forgotten it was up there. It didn't hurt to toss it. It was just an object. There are plenty more of those. I just don't feel the need to hold on to every thing that he gave me or touched. It's been my way of holding on to his life.

But by letting it go, I can also hold on to his death. It's sadness. It's beauty. It's intimacy. It's purpose.


Peace Out,

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

Simplicity

I was inspired by THIS post by Pinky (Cheese in My Shoe) . The discussion went on about abundance and the simple things in life. So while I was out today, I took some pictures of what I consider simplicity and abundance. These bring tranquility to my life when I need it.

Tobias and George

Tobias likes to nuzzle up against my cheek. Sometimes, if I'm sitting on a step, he'll come and just rest his head on my shoulder.

Big Mac, Fillet Mignon, and Bessie

Big Mac likes to cuddle and nuzzle too. But he'll be a full grown bull end of the summer. They can be dangerous. I still think I'll have to swallow hard when it's time to send him off to slaughter. But that's farm life. I'll have this picture though to remind me of when he was a sweet 600 pound calf...

~*~*~Krystal Out~*~*~

Pass the Bricks and Mortar Please

I just sent an email to Pobble with the above line in it. I've decided to come here and expound.

I use to have this lovely wall around my world. Those of you who have been around since I first started blogging...five YEARS ago...know about that wall. It helped keep me detached and safe from the world.

Then my world started to tumble down, as did my wall. I think it was exhaustion. My Ma'am Ma died, three weeks later my Daddy died, my Mother had...ISSUES..., we bought a farm, got hit by a hurricane, the kids and I now live 1,000 miles away from Bear, my eldest sister stole $120,000 from my Mother (her entire savings)...

...panting...out of breath...one long-assed run on sentence...

my sister convinced my cousins that *I* was a liar (I gave a detailed written statement to my Mother's attorney regarding the Evil Sister, her antics, and then things she said and threatened), my borther, his wife, and two children have also now been convince (of course, no one's asked me about it though...Evil Sister is an amzing con artist), I've been stabbed in the back by someone I trusted who spread lies about me to a few people (I was 1,000 damn miles away!!! HTF could that even be POSSIBLE?!?!?!), and now another friend is starting to suck me dry.

Without my wall I feel incredibly vulnerable and in danger. So I've decide to start rebuilding. So pass the bricks adn mortar please. I've got a job to do.

In totally UNRELATED news, Princess just showed me the cookie I gave her twenty minute ago. She started laughing and told me, "Still no bites. I'm going to save it until I'm 31."