An Echo

in our life we say, there comes a time, there comes a day...when all is over, said and done...no words spoken can mend, no promise made can assure...our eyes are opened, we've met the end...
It is not the quantity of friends that we have that is important, but rather the quality of those friends we do have...

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

The Three Little Fishes...


What does it take to be seen as a happy family? A lot would tell you that it takes being a unit to be a family. But what is it that takes being a unit? Some see it as having both parents raising their children, both taking an active part in raising them, teaching them, comforting them and being an example for them. They say it is a cohesive unit such as this that will teach them the meaning and the importance of family and creates a strong family bond that will carry on into their adult life as they will be seeking that same thing in their adult life. That the values that they are raised by will carry on. Yes, to a certain extent that is true, which child and spousal abuse is testament to. But I honestly do not think that it takes both parents to raise a child with decent moral values. To be a person of worth and be respected when they reach their adult life. It does take an example though, someone who has those values, that moral base in right and wrong, someone who is respected and shows worth.

I have seen families all my life with both parents as somewhat equal partners in raising the children, in some cases the family was very functional and it seemed to click and the nucleus was kept intact. That the core values were there that nurtured those bonds and moral beliefs in the family unit. But on the flip side of that same coin I have seen just the opposite, both parents raising the children and the children not really amounting to much, very dysfunctional and sibling rivalry to the point it was collapsing the nucleus of what a family should be. What could it be that causes such drastic differences in the outcome when the environment for both are close to being the same? I mean both parents raising the children, both sharing equal responsibility in seeing that those qualities we find so important are over a period of time ingrained in them, hopefully with successful results.

We have been told that we are nothing more than a product of our environment, that is how we are raised, who we choose as our peers and what interest we have chosen to follow that determines the end result of who we are today. This I cannot agree with or even fathom the thought that the person who wrote would even believe in it. So many good examples of what is morally acceptable, what is right have come from impoverished backgrounds. That a choice was made to pull themselves up from where they were at and seek a better life for themselves and their family. That they made a choice, (my favorite word, choice and it's cousin, option..) to put that life behind them and better themselves and offer something to their children they did not have. The ghettos just as much as the middle or upper class societies has had many good people who made a difference, contributed to society as a whole and unselfishly gave of themselves so that you and I could have a better life. So are we a product of our environment or are we a product of the choices we made? I believe the latter to be the true definitive statement of who we will grow up to be.

To fall back on the family unit and both parents raising the children, I did not try and give any definitive description of the parents are giving any history of them as to how they were raised, assume both sets had a normal childhood and were also raised by both parents and were raised to be contributing members of society all living in that mythological American Dream. Most middle class and upper class families enjoy some privileges that impoverished families do not have, one is that the divorce rate in an established family is much lower and financial stability is not a dream, but more of a reality and the children normally get the things they are needing without any effort at all. Whereas in an impoverished family, the divorce rate is much higher and it is a struggle to keep a roof over the families head and food on the table. That to a lot in this impoverished class the simple things in life that we take for granted are luxuries to them. And living that so called American Dream is just that, a dream. I feel it is that dream that has done more harm than good and that reality of things are that only self can make a difference on how we will eventually end up in life, successful and a contributor or impoverished and dependent on the welfare structure we have created. But it is within these impoverished families that you see the moral values of family more stable, more ingrained and more prevalent than in the middle or upper class families as they only have themselves to depend on. And it is here where that so called family unit myth is shattered, because it is here where you find more single parents raising their families and instilling in their children that if they want a change it is up to them to make that change. That they do have options but it is up to them to seize that opportunity and make the best of what they have. I also find that people with this type of family background have a lot more appreciation for those core beliefs and values. Much more so than that of the middle or upper class families.

To cite an example for a single parent family I don't have to look very far. It is someone I know. She works hard, most days a minimum of 10 hours as an accountant with some days going far beyond 12 hours. She has twin daughters who are approximately 9 years old. She has been with the same company for over 13 years and has slowly made her way to a somewhat comfortable position. She is divorced and lives or rather her parents live with her, her mother full time and her father is there often. She is a very responsible person both in her professional and personal life, has wonderful ethics and moral beliefs and believes in the family unit. She has such a strong belief that she feels she has an obligation to her parents to return to them what they had given her to get where she is at today. That is something you rarely see at all anymore. We as a society in America feel that is our parents obligation and duty to see that we make something of ourselves and when it does not happen the way we think it should, we blame the way our parents raised us. But in this person, this single parent I see something much different, I see one who is very thankful for what her parents have given her and taught her as she was growing up, that the lessons she learned from them she has kept with her and I see these same moral and ethical lessons being passed on to her daughters. She made a choice early in life not to be a burden on anyone, she made a choice to listen to her parents and learn from their struggles to get where she is at in life now. She has learned the importance of acceptance and of charity. She has learned that it is the choices we make in life that will determine who we will eventually be. Yes, to an extent we are a product of our environment, but to place everything as to who we are on that belief would be foolish, because we have to make choices. We are taught what is right or wrong and are given examples to that effect by our parents as to what they see is right or wrong, but we have to be able to distinguish ourselves the difference and make a choice. I see that in her, she has made the right choices, I see it in her daughters and the way they behave. They have a very tight family unit and one depends on the other. She involves them within the family just as much as she involves herself in their life, scholastic and personal, guiding them each step of the way. She provides for them a very nurturing atmosphere and rewards them appropriately, they are her number one priority in her life. And she has earned much more than their love and devotion, she has earned their respect and respect for her position in the family. I see her as the driving force in providing the necessary tools for her daughters to try and make the right choices in life.

We have talked many hours about what we believe in, what we see and deem as being ethical and moral. We have discussed responsibility and parenting and the roles each or one parent should take. We have talked of the importance of the family and the priority it should maintain in one's life and how by setting a good example you have given your children the most important tool they could possess. How above all else it is family that we should consider first and foremost. That by nurturing those qualities of family and living by a specific set of rules or ideologies and sustaining and demonstrating healthy moral beliefs and making ethical beneficial choices the family structure will not perish and crumble like some sand castle built too close the the surfs on the beach, but will grow strong and endure like a house built of stone. A shelter to find refuge and comfort in and a place to find solace with family. I have a deep admiration for this lady and the highest level of respect for the task she has taken on in life.

When I think of her and her daughters, I think of three little fishes in a bowl. Living in their own world, yet seen by all around them. Seen as a very loving family knowing the importance of that special relationship that family offers. We create the reality of our dreams by the choices we make, I see she has made those dreams of hers a reality.

Friday, April 25, 2008

Must Have Been the Warm Milk


Insomnia, never have been much on sleeping, just something my body never required a lot of. But there is one it worries and she is always trying to think of ways to get me to sleep more. Go to bed early, don't take naps during the day. Do something, stay active, anything to help you burn energy. Tried and tried, but to no avail, sleep just wouldn't come to me. I would lay there hours on end and just stare at the ceiling or watch the moon shadows slowly traverse across my bedroom. I tried not thinking about her, that would just cause thoughts to dance in my head and lead off on another path. Eventually though I would drift off only to find myself waking after about two hours of a very deep sleep. No dreaming or waking thoughts, just in a deep sleep. I would always wake with a jolt. I never felt tired or felt as if I needed more sleep.

I do not know what precipitated this insomnia that I am now experiencing. Normal sleep for me is roughly four hours, maybe five, but never anymore than that. This is the way it has always been for my entire life. A habit my father got all the kids in. Always on with the bedroom light at 5am with his familiar "Rise and shine boys." breaking the evening's rest. Since getting into that habit at such a young age, if I slept anymore than that, I always felt as if I had wasted part of the day or missed out on something. Even in the Air Force I was awake before revelry. As I said, I do not know what has caused this insomnia to come over me, I have thought about it, it gives me something to do as I am laying there. Only thing I can think of is because I am missing her. I have never had anyone fill my thoughts as she does.

Dreams are rare for me. Rarely do they visit me when I sleep and most make no sense at all when I do. Never anything in my past or with anything I had done that day. Most I remember for some reason, not that there is any reason to remember them at all. But yet I do and I file them away to be forgotten eventually.

With that little bit of history behind I will continue to the reason for the title. I love milk, but it has to be ice cold and preferably with cake or cookies or something else to snack on while I drink it. Well we were talking the other night about my sleep or rather the lack of it. She has told me many times how this causes her worry and feels it could affect my health mentally and physically. The other evening she suggested that I drink milk before going to sleep, that by drinking it, it may help. Not the way I am used to drinking it though, it had to be warm milk. I have never even liked the chill knocked off my milk, much less warm. None the less, she convinced me to at least try and see if it would work. Well I did, I drank it like a kid taking cod liver oil, not really relishing the thought at all. Drinking it as fast as I could to get it over with, she commended me for doing it and then posted one of those sticking out tongue smilies at me. After a while I have to admit, I did feel more relaxed and a few yawns actually escaped from me. I told her and the next few words to me were as familiar as those my dad used to say when waking me, "Time for bed kiddo.". Reluctantly I said my goodnight s to her and our "soons" were exchanged. I went and laid down and to my surprise I drifted off into sleep, not laying there as I would normally do, but there was a side effect, I had dreams all night. I could not wait to tell her about the sleep at least, but when I saw her, she beat me to it asking if I had slept that night. With a smiling smiley I told her, "Yes as a matter of fact I did.", this seemed to please her. I then told her about the side effects, the dreams. The context of the dreams are not important for this story, but they were about her and I told them to her. She responded with her "ic" and a smiley followed. For the last few nights I have been drinking "my" warm milk before going to sleep and each time I have a very relaxed feeling that comes over me and I know sleep is just moments away. I look forward to it, the side effects that is, because I know I will be seeing her again. I hope she worries less now, especially knowing that she was very instrumental in seeing that I get more sleep.

Slowly I have been learning to listen to her and her thoughts concerning my health. I should you know, after all she has a set of very active and healthy twin girls that she applies the same things to as she requests of me. Yes, it must have been the warm milk.

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Whoever Said it was Three Strikes and Your Out?


I have never been much of an animal person, I mean they have always been around but I never really formed any deep attachment for them. I main saw them as nothing much more than a food pit and a drain on the wallet. Maybe it is because my life had been so transient in the past, always working out of town, never home. Who knows. I just never really saw them as beneficial. My daughter had her share of pets and Linda had her menagerie of cats, dogs and birds, all I of which I still have. But there was one who was determined to to be my bud.

It was about 4 years after moving here I went out one early evening to get a breath of fresh air when across my field I saw this nondescript skinny to the point of starving German Sheppard
walking slowly towards my home. At first I thought it was coyote and was going to deal with it in that way. I went into the house and got my pistol and walked back into the yard and I waited. He stopped about 1/2 way between my property line and the house and just stared at me. I started walking towards him, pistol down to my side and he did not move. As I got closer I saw a collar on him and decided it wasn't a coyote but rather someone's pet. I turned and started back to the house thinking that he would just pass through and keep on going. I turned to look at him and he had started following me, I paid him no mind and turned to the house and went in. About an hour later my daughter came walking into the living room and walked towards the door, she asked without turning who's dog was at the front door? I looked over and there he was staring in at us with the saddest face you ever saw. Linda said to feed it and maybe it would go on it's way by morning. So I did. Very big mistake.

The next morning as I walked out to my truck to go to work, there he was all curled up beneath it sound asleep. When the door shut he looked up and then yawned, slowing working his way out from under it. He walked over to me, sniffed my hand, licked it and went to lay down by the porch. All the way to work I thought, yeah, feed him and maybe he will be gone by in the morning. When I got home that evening there he was with his muzzle buried in a pan eating. He looked up at me as I pulled into the drive and stood there staring at me. As I walked up to the porch he walked over to me and again he licked my hand. For the next 3 or 4 days all I did was try and drive him off the property or figure some way of getting rid of him. He just kept coming back.

It was a Saturday and I had been working in the yard when I decided to sit a little and rest underneath a big oak tree. I didn't even know he had walked up. He places his muzzle under my hand and flipped it on his back. Unconsciously I started to pet him. I looked over at the florescent orange collar he was wearing and noticed there were no tags at all on it. He was looking dead in my eye as if telling me I best give up and accept the fact he was here to stay and there was nothing I was or could do about it. Looking at him, I shook my head and said to him, "You're going to need a name." So I thought and thought and thought and nothing came to mind. Later that evening my step son came by to talk a little and he threw his Bud beer can down. The dog went and got it and took it to me. I looked down at him and said, "What the hell, I'll call you Bud." So hence the name.

He got along well with everyone in the family and not so well with those he thought should not be on the property. He protected it as if it was his own. No one came on it unless they went through him first or with my permission. One of his favorite things to keep the property rid of was snakes. It was not uncommon to see several snakes a month lying dead someplace on the property that he had killed. Poisonous or nonpoisonous he did not discriminate, they all met their demise. It wasn't uncommon that every once in a while he would get bit and I would rush him to the vet and one shot later and a few days of rest he would be back to his old self. Chasing squirrels, raccoons, cats and coyotes off the property. That was a little over eight years ago he wandered onto the property and found himself a home. The grand kids loved him and he was gentle to the point with them that they could pull his tail, his ears or ride on his back, he would just take it in stride, after all, they were family just like he was and this is what family did.

This afternoon I went to feed Bud and found him laying on the ground of his dog run, at first I thought he was asleep, as often as he is and I called for him. Usually his tail would start wagging before he would jump up and run to the gate to see what goodies I had for him, but today he did not move when I called him. I set the pail down and went inside, I walked over to him and squatted next to him, I noticed he wasn't breathing. With my hand trembling I laid it on his shoulder and whispered to him to see if he was okay, he still did not move. I lifted his muzzle and saw two puncture wounds on the side of his muzzle and two behind his left eye. His eyes were open and I thought I saw them blink. I picked up all 145 pounds of dog and placed him in the back seat of my car. On the way I called the vet to make sure he would be there and wait on me. I pulled up, he sent two young boys to help, I told them I would carry him in. I placed Bud on the table in the examination room and the doctor without examining him gave him his shot and then started checking him. He looked at me and told me this may be the last time I would be bringing him in, it di dnot look as if he was responding to the antivenom. He said to leave over night and if it looked as if there was no imporvemnt by morning he would put Bud under. For a dog I tried so hard to chase off, I cried like some little kid that had lost his best friend all the way home.

I was talking to YuYing telling her what had happened and other things I had done today when the phone rang. It was the vet, "Ron I am very sorry, but Bud didn't make it this time." I was always told all my life it was three strikes before you were out of the game, Bud was out after two. I am going to miss him, for something I thought I was never really attached to to begin with.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Goodbye Chat Rooms...

I am out of the chat rooms now. I have no plans on going back. When I first started going to chats it was a way of getting through a sleepless night, the possibility of meeting someone you could just talk to and pass some time with. I did not think at that time that anyone would have any type of hidden agendas or use this as a substitution for something they were not getting in the real world. I was new and naive to a lot of things, it struck me like a kid going to the circus fro the first time and seeing the midway..the rides, the games and the sideshows. Chat rooms seemed to fill that adult bill to the tee.

I am not saying I have not met some good people on here or developed any friendships on here, that I have. And even more, I have met one that I love deeply and see many tomorrows with. But as for most, I see nothing but a place to vent, to hurt, to criticize and seek attention. I have never in my entire life seen so many people unable or unwilling to take responsibility for their actions. It is as if they are never at fault and are quick to blame someone else for it all the while acting like they were the innocent victim. What they do not realize is that it takes two to dance.

As for me, I do not care what another really thinks of me. I could care less. I just shows how infantile they are in their manner of slandering another. What is said about me is nothing more than one's opinion and we all have our own opinion. Yes and as it is said so well..opinions are like assholes, we all have one and most likely stink. So..I have found it is best to keep my opinions to myself. I am quicker to point out my own faults than that of another and I believe that is a lesson anyone could benefit from. By doing so, you take away their ammunition. Also you give others a chance to see the one firing in a new perspective, possibly one they were blind to before. Let them say what they will about me, I have nothing to prove except to a close few and only one in particular.

It is sad to think that some use this as a venue for attention. We all do to a degree I think, I even found myself falling into that. But after a while I realized again all it was doing was giving others something to talk about when it should have been left alone to begin with. All it did was make it fester and upset others. Am I going to miss the chat rooms? No, not for a minute. I have gotten out of them all I want to. I am grateful for one thing though, she knows who she is. Anyway...GOODBYE CHATS....HELLO LIFE!

Sunday, April 6, 2008

Paradise

When I think of paradise…
My thoughts drift to you…
Free of the world’s vice…
Our skies are clear and blue…

No distractions in my eyes…
No one but you I see…
Palms sway against the skies…
As you walk beside me…

We walk alone, your hand in mine…
Your voice so soft and sweet…
And in the breeze your words entwine…
You speak of when we did meet…

The sun is warm upon our face…
Sand warm beneath our feet…
My heart beats fast and starts to race…
When our lips do meet…

I touch you and you quiver…
Your eyes are fixed on mine…
Emotions run like a river…
To all others we are blind…

We whisper the words of love…
We are wrapped in each other’s arms.…
No one I place above…
As we are sheltered from life’s harms…

This paradise in which we live…
A place so calm and serene…
For it was here we chose to give…
And on each forever lean…

In this paradise we will walk…
And watch the days go by…
Of our tomorrows we will talk…
Until our last sunset draws nigh…

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Until...©

Sinking deep into the dark cold well…
I see that point of light so far away…
Sinking deep into this lonely hell…
This place I am doomed to stay…

She held out her hand a long time ago…
To take me from this place…
But my grasp has slipped I know…
And now my fate I must face…

Her memory it will torture me…
This I have laid at my feet…
Now the piper must be paid his fee…
Till my heart no longer will beat…

When this mortal bond is broke…
My anguished soul it will release…
In the wind like a wisp of smoke…
Searching for that fabled peace…

Oh to sleep and never to wake…
To live inside my dream…
To think of her by evening lake…
Enveloped by moon’s soft beam…

Her raven hair so soft and long…
Dark eyes that are so deep…
A voice like the night bird’s song…
To hear makes my heart leap…

The tears now they fall like rain…
They flood my soul complete…
But cannot drown out the pain…
Nor make her mine to keep…

So by this lake of tears I sit…
To stare up at the heavens at night…
Until my life I will remit…
And my soul takes flight…

Until then this unrequited love I hold…
This for her I will keep…
When that day that comes is told…
When death for me will seek…

An Echo....

When you find you are lost, always go back to where you started...