DISMANTLING CHRISTMAS

Why is this year any different from Christmas's past?
Is my heart any heavier?
Decorations are usually left til New Year's Day,
But not this year.
This year I'm ready to put them away.

So all the boxes to fill,
Are brought up from the basement,
And down go the stockings off the chimney,
And down go memories collected over the years,
Of what Christmas means to me.

The various nativity scenes,
Remind me of the reason we celebrate.
Santa of my childhood years,
Has been replaced with Baby Jesus,
And in some way softened all my fears.

The many trees placed about the room,
Fill me with smiles.
Lots of decorated trees make the season fun.
Some gifted, made and bought,
And I remember the history of each one.

As I carefully sort and paper wrap,
And put everything that says Christmas away,
A lump settles in my throat,
And tears threaten to fall.
I really feel like such an old goat!

Every year this gets harder.
Not because the world's Christmas greed has grown,
But more the changes that each Christmas holds,
When young hope sees such a bright light.
But that light seems to dim when we get old.

Most of my decorations are children geared.
As I put them to rest for another year,
I wonder if they'll be brought out anymore.
There are no children regularly in this home now,
No little hearts to Christmas adore.

Seems silly to adorn with teddy bears,
And Sesame Street ornaments,
When no little one's are here to enjoy.
Maybe I'll change the scheme next year,
To fit our growing envoy.

Maybe I'll pack away those ornaments,
That carry special memories of each little heart,
That has graced our home over the years.
Then give these memories to each loved one,
To decorate their own homes with Christmas cheer.

This years heavy heart is due to change.
One day these Christmas's will come no more for me.
I should relish that the season doesn't crash my soul anymore,
That I've worked hard to make the season special,
So my little ones never opened a despairing memory door.

I should glow in the blessing I find in each new Christmas season.
It is a season of great Hope,
And charges the soul with so much love,
If one can keep focused on what is important,
Which is in the Greatest Gift from Above.

New Year's Day is five days away,
Early is this year's Christmas dismantling.
I'm ready to pack away all the sparkle and brass,
And open up space in this home full of change.
I'm ready to let go and in this years memories bask.

We survived the doomsday predictions,
So 2013 is on it's way in, maybe....
But whatever the path God has laid before us,
It will unfold rather we want it to or not,
As I close the last box and pack away Christmas.

SNOW ON THE OUTSIDE!

Winter has come to our sandhills today in the form of our first blizzard of 2012. This drought stricken area is now blanketed in white. But it  may not get the moisture it needs, if this blasting wind blows it all the way to Kansas! A quick drive into town, just as this storm hit, had me scurrying back for home in a scary, snow blinding, drive.

I have to go in to work tonight. Scary thought.

For now, though, here, safe ... listening to the wind howl and looking out every so often, to see how high the drifts are blowing ... I'm doing loads of wash. I'm helping my brother, Carl, get all his clothes and sleeping bag ready for his trip back to his favorite home town, Lincoln, NE. He's been sleeping in our basement for nearly two months and on a day like today, I am so glad he has a warm place to hang.
I'm not ready to let him go. It's like the old days when he was just a little boy and I was the 'Momma Hen' looking out for my little brothers. Though he's all grown up now, he still needs a guardian. Someone to look out for him. And he won't let me be his guardian. Nor will my husband let me. So, on this cold snowy day, I'm doin what I can and helping him get ready for his trip home.

My brother is excited about going home. Well, not really home as he is still homeless. Yes, homeless. It's a long story and some of it I have blogged about in earlier posts. Let's just say for now he has been having a tough time and does not have a set place to call home. For the past couple of years he has been a regular camper under some Lincoln bridges or he will stay with friends who open their homes temporarily, especially during bad weather days like today. 
In my mind, this is no way to live. But his age, previous health issues with cancer and a mind that some would label child like,  all limit his employment access. He's a hard worker and a very loyal worker ... as long as he doesn't drink. He can be obnoxious when he drinks too much. He's been too poor to drink much this year. And since I've not been drinking since Feb 14th, his stay here has been very pleasant.

Why is he camping in our basement? When I learned a surgery I was dreading was going to happen Oct 1st, I knew Carl would be such a big help. He may be homeless, but I know how to get ahold of him and so I put out the call and he agreed to come. I could help him with a pillow for his head and he could help me as I recovered from spine surgery.
It has been a very comfortable arrangement, to the surprise of my husband, who, at first, restricted the my brother's stay to only six weeks. I think my husband was worried that my brother could be one of those professional panhandlers and would be a hassel under foot. But he was won over by the calm, quiet, helpful manner of my brother. My husband surprised me by giving my brother a coat for Christmas and even researched some programs that might help give my brother a respectful independence. Surprises can warm the heart!

When it became apparant that I was recovering from surgery much quicker than everyone expected and that I was beginning to fetch my own stuff and could soon drive myself around, I tried to help my brother find work and a place to live in our hometown of Ogallala. I had hoped he would think this was a cool idea, too. But Ogallala isn't the hometown he wants to live in right now. Maybe later, he says. Maybe, should our younger brother not want to be caretaker of our childhood home, he would come back and help keep things from deteriorating there. He may finally have a home, is a thought not lost in my mind.

Anyway, the washer and dryer are both full. Carl is going through his few possesions and repacking it all into one little tote I gave him. And I'm trying not to cry.

Doesn't he know that when he goes back to Lincoln that I will begin worrying again. I have the greatest fear that the phone will ring and another brother will be gone. His health is not the best. No health insurance so he doesn't go to the doctor. His health could be the worst. How can I let this all go?

At least for near two months, my brother has been safe, with a clean bed to sleep in and a fridge to keep his food in and my computer to play solitaire, addictively, on. I will miss him. I've loved having him here and was grateful to celebrate our 'family' Christmas with him. It's been years since we've been together over the holidays. We filled him up on Thanksgiving, too! I'm sure I healed quickly because he was such a great support!

So here I am at the end of the year, dreading all the changes closing in around me. My brother going back to Lincoln is just one of the many changes pending. And his return just magnifies the huge sense of loss that this year has hit me with ... 
... and, as if personal loss isn't hard enough, then our country takes it's own hard hits recently with hurricane Sandy and the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary.  And what the heck! Why does SANDY have to be the name associated with these tragedies? That troubled me enough to change my Facebook name to my nickname Sam. Like that is gona help in some way! Such is MY way, when all I can feel is helpless! So I do insignificant stuff. And feel nearly hopeless!

NO! That's not so. There is ALWAYS  hope!

As 2013 closes in, my heart is so heavy. My brother is going back to his comfort zone. Impending changes ... sheesh even the upcoming 12-21-12 is touted to be an impending .... something ... guess, I will think about that more on 12-22-12 and blog about it if nothing changes to knock out power or Yellowstone didn't blow according to some doomsayer predictions.

For now, the snow is easing and it looks like some of it is gona stay to melt when the sun comes out. Sorry, Kansas. Guess, I'll finish helping my brother get ready for his return ....

Snow on the outside!

Rain on the inside!

The sun will come out!

The sun will always come out!
Or how will the rainbows form inside?!

It is a cold, windy Sunday night in McCook, NE. The flashing marque, just outside the motel window, just informed me that it was only 14 degrees out. Usually the wind howling through the windows wouldn't bother me. I like a cool room and often leave a window open for a cool breeze. My husband won't let me do this at our country home in the sandhills. I probably could if I was paying the heating bill. And I'm not paying the heating bill in this hotel room. But then, I don't have the windows open. Don't need to. The crisp wind is still finding a way in. May need to use my fake fur coat for an extra cover tonight.

So, why McCook? Came here Friday night to hang out with my daughter and her family as they offer their presence and support to their dear friends whose 6 year old son passed from a rare brain cancer. His  funeral was today. We came early to offer any support needed and to beat a snow threat that never panned out. 

This sad time has me sitting here, on this cold, windy night, reflecting over the year and the saying 'death  seems to come in threes.' This year proves this saying true for our family. The first loss this year was our friend, Bill Davis. I posted a blog around that time expressing my sorrow. Bill was a long time friend of my husband's and when I met him, he became my Sam Elliott look-a-like! And friend! It was hard losing him. Not a surprise. Cancer does not discriminate. But seems even when you are expecting someone to leave, it still doesn't make the leaving any easier! Both he and his wife, Eva, lived on borrowed time and left us when we were not ready to let them go.

My husband and I made the trip to Council Bluffs, IA to say good-bye to our friend Bill. While there a call came in to burden me with death # 2. I arrived home from IA to pack and turn around the very same day and head back ... but going to Lincoln, NE this time.

My daughter and I made that trip to Lincoln, NE to hug our cousins and mourn the loss of a cousin whom had committed suicide. The loss of this cousin ripped our hearts out by it's suddenness and sadness, but suicide is not a surprise to our family.

I use to wish I was in a family of healthy, wise, 'popular', wealthy, elite .... oh, the list went on and on, but was sooooo foolish. I am blood related to a clan of colorful, warm souled misfits that stumble around in our brokenness with moments of despair when we take our own life suddenly, or slowly, in self destructive living modes. I am where I need to be. Wishing made me miss out on the blessings at hand and kept me from changing. When I just accepted and loved, no matter what, I found a way to survive and so came the blessings. So, yes, I am where I need to be. And this year we lost one of those broken souls from within our blessed family 'tribe'.

A few months later and here we are, near the end of the year and, today, we said good-bye to a little 6 year old HERO. Again, with my daughter, we come to this lil town of McCook, NE, ... to hug and marvel at this remarkable family and community that fell in love with their son. A little guy that was way too young to go! Yet, in his short life, he lived a life time and impacted the lives of thousands ... maybe more. His story comes together in so many other places. The Nebraska Cornhuskers, both players and fans, were touched by little Isaiah Casillas. As was the whole community of McCook. You should check out the articles on this little fella.

His funeral was a mix of such sorrow and sweet, sweet memories ... listening to how others were impacted by this young boy, who captivated everyone he met  ...  and then is so quickly gone ... made me take stock of my poor excuses for not doing my best! Shesssh!

Here was a little guy that lived with maybe only one regret ... he couldn't stay longer. He knew he was sick and he knew he wouldn't get to stay long and so he rode his bicycle and played with his friends and loved until he couldn't no more. He lived and he smiled and hugged and laughed and loved. He didn't whine or make life miserable for those around him. He blessed more, in his little time, and he fought like a true warrior. God blessed his little heart by taking him with grace and after only two weeks in Hospice, when his disease is known to be much more taxing and long suffering. Prayers for Isaiah were answered. He gave. Now it is our turn.

If death comes in threes, then this should be the end of death striking it's personal blow in my life. Death is all around us. It seems inescapable. Inevitable. It reminds us of our immortality. It is recorded everyday for someone, somewhere, and often in more than threes. As I grow older, death seems to sing it's tune more often than I care to hear it.

In all this, I am reminded that life is a gift. Too precious to waste and to unpredictable to spend life whining. 

I think the wind died down! The windows aren't whizzing. It is actually getting warm in this room with all these windows. Maybe, I'll slide the window, nearest my bed, open a bit before I turn out the light. I can prop up my pillows and get all snugly and watch the traffic driving by down there from this 2nd story window. No trucks jake breaking down the hill, like they do out by our home in the sandhills! Watching and listening to the night sounds of this lil compassionate McCook town ... seems soothing tonight.  Very soothing to a troubled soul.

So I snuggle into the pillows. One last look at that flashing marque over Kentucky Fried Chicken. It's now 13 degrees. Burrrrrr. I'm glad the wind has died down. But like death, it will rear it's ugly head again. And I go ahead and open that window a crack. And I go ahead and watch and listen.

As I drift off to sleep with such a heavy heart, I can see in my mind the last video that flashed up on the screen at the McCook Community Center at the end of the funeral for little Isaiah Casillas. With feeding tubes and his dancing eyes, he was singing a song I've lovingly watched my little grandson sing but Isaiah ends it with ...

Miss Me, Miss Me, Now Ya Gotta Kiss Me.



COFFEE BREAK SERIES

COFFEE BREAK #2


Addiction ~ dependence on or commitment to a habit, practice, or habit-forming substance to the extent that its cessation causes trauma.

Compulsion ~ 1. the act of compelling; constraint; coercion. 2. the state or condition of being compelled. 3. a strong, usu. irresistible impulse to perform an act, esp. one that is irrational or contrary to one's will.

Compulsive ~ 1. pertaining to, characterized by, or involving compulsion: compulsive eating. 2. characterized by perfectionism, rigidity, conscientiousness, and an obsessive concern with order and detail. 3. compelling; compulsory. 4. a compulsive person.


The Serenity Prayer has a special place in my heart. It came to me as a lifeline back in the late 70's and has helped me sort through my life ever since. I was introduced to the Serenity Prayer when I was committed to treatment at the Hastings Regional Center after a week in the hospital for an overdose that should have resulted in two fatalities. Two? I died, twice, and yet lived. One of many miracles I would experience. AND my nearly 4 year old son survived being left alone in our apartment for over 3 days before anyone knew he was there and rescued him. Another of the many miracles I have experienced in my life. I've shared my story many times and so, in this coffee break I don't intend to share it again. No, I'm fast forwarding from the late 70's to now ... the last quarter of 2012.

I am obsessively compulsive with a compulsion for addiction. I am a lost cause, right? Oh HELL no!!! I am a survivor! I beat the odds every day ... as long as I cling to my lifeline. GOD. 

When I left the Hastings Regional Center after successfully completing their 30 day treatment program ... that took me 3 months to complete back in the 70's, I was taken to a half-way house for women, St Monica's, in Lincoln, NE. From that time on, until now, I've been in a battle for my life. I have been so blessed with the 'teachers' over this time period that have given me life tools to CHANGE THE THINGS I CAN. I am not the same person I was before my treatment. I may have successfully completed their treatment program but successful living has taken much longer. Not even sure I've yet the right to claim success today.

It's been a process. I've have been sober nearly 10 years straight, and have 'fallen off the wagon' off and on for many more years since. December 31, 1997 I layed down all whiskey. And from that time on I tried to rationalize that drinking just beer or wine or liqueurs were ok since I did not drink them to drunkenness. Though this may have been a valid point, for me, I have some health issues that make drinking a danger. For me, the WISEST thing to do is NOT to drink.

I have not had a drink since February 14, 2012. I have more courage to CHANGE THE THINGS I CAN when I choose not to drink. And my liver thanks me.

So I don't drink. That solves my obsessive compulsiveness, right? NOT!

I don't drink but I 'collect'. Some might label my 'collections' as compulsions. And after watching a few reality TV shows on hoarders, I too, am labeling my collections as compulsions. (The one on the woman who hoarded empty boxes was especially enlightening since I 'collect' empty office copy paper boxes. They are great to 'collect' my garage sale items in, for that future garage sale. I think I've got 15 empty boxes to fill yet.)

Let's take a peek at my 'collections':

Clothes and jewelry.

I love garage sales and thrift shops. I'm not in to spending lots of bucks on name brand items when you can find em in a thrift shop. Just give em a good cleaning and wah-lah! I look for unusual items and color coordinated add ons and cosmetic jewelry that intrigues me. (and usually ONLY me) I can't count for you all the jewelry boxes, or clothing items ... this lil room is full ... maybe too full, huh?

Oh and shoes ... lots of shoes ...

and books ... several shelves of books ...

and pictures ... pictures in frames ... thousands, and more, of pictures on CD, on the computer ... lots and lots of pictures.



and finally, pens. I have more than 10 containers of pens. I'm a compulsive underliner in my self help books! I buy those colored gel pens to underline in different colors. I'm due for a new Bible because I've underlined so much that some text is unreadable. I have pens everywhere.

Oh wait ... I also compulsively 'collect' rocks! As a child I use to sit on the sidewalk outside Grandma's house and with a hammer, break em open. I think that was my way of dealing with the trauma I was living with during Mom's 2nd marriage. Once treatment, years of counseling, and lots of soul healing ... the rocks I have all over my house, now, have been collected as is. I can almost tell you where every rock 1st resided. One of my favorite Christmas gifts was a rock given me by my daughter when she was 7.

I'm sure there are more compulsions I have ... this is just a peek.

Is this better than drinking? Only if SERENITY is gained. My compulsions seem easier to tame when I don't drink. But I have too much. It is too crowded. I'm getting old enough now that I need to get rid of 3/4's of it all. What a mess my family will have trying to sort through it all when I move on. 

Drinking or not, I will always cling to this prayer, faith in a God that guides my walk, when I let Him, and the desire to always change what I can to find serenity in the way I walk my life. Serenity for me usually means  SERENITY for my loved ones.

So,

God grant me the SERENITY,

to accept the things I cannot change,

the courage to CHANGE THE THINGS I CAN,

and the WISDOM to know the difference.

WE VOTED YESTERDAY

President Barack Obama will serve as our

44th President.

So we voted.
And Obama
was elected to
a second term.
I am sooooo
excited that I
even got to vote.
It almost didn't happen.





What a hostile political environment for this years election. It may seem to many that it was unusual. But I remember the 60's, the Kennedy's, the Viet Nam war and the draft, the hippies, the protests. I remember watching TV as it gave us ready witness to the tragedies of war and the hosing of peaceful black protesters and the assassinations of great men who opened doors for an American experience that involved ALL of the people, not just a privileged few. Sound familiar? It should. We've been here before. Such passions then. Such passions now.

Finally the commercials and the bantering and the stretching of the truth and the out right lies are set to rest. Right? Now it is time to really get to work and save our country for everyone. We are Americans. A mix of color, class and cultures that enjoy the freedom to be who we are and follow the dreams we dare to dream. Will the haters stop hating? Probably not. Time will tell if the suits can all work together or if it will be a tug-o-war or chest puffing with no desire to meld the strongest points into something that could be the best political climate ever. I can hope, right? I can pray, and I do, nearly every night. With God all things are possible.

I wish this battle was outside of my safe haven here in the Sandhills. Some how my husband and I have moved from common ground some 20+ years together, to being 180 degrees off on nearly every political passion. He's white, I'm black. He's red, I'm blue. His way is right. My way is right. It finally got so bad that we agreed NOT TO TALK POLITICS around each other. And this worked, until ....

a couple weeks before the election things were said and an argument ensued and I reached a point that I was willing to move out if I had to, to protect my right to vote and my passions ...

Let's just say, we worked this all out and re-installed the ban on talking politics. And I went out and voted yesterday. Maybe those suits in 'elected' positions can find some compromise amid their passions. Like my husband and I, maybe they can work through the drama and see the most important things that matter. Like the heart of a soul. They are responsible for millions of hearts out there.

I Took A Bite Of That Apple To See

I took a bite of that apple to see,

That you were naked in front of me.

'Thou shalt not eat of the Tree of Knowledge,

Such beauty unfolded in the fruit and foliage.

I did not plan to deceive you,

But how could I be without you?

One can only relate to what is known,

And with experience one is grown.

So why plant a tree,

And then say "Let it be?"

Why tempt one You know is weak,

By refusing not to speak,

And giving all the facts?

A test. What the hell is that?

Especially when You know all the answers,

Yet expect all the respect, my Lord, Sir?

Why create only to destroy,

Why use life like Your favorite toy?

In my quest to know all these whys,

I ate of that tree to try,

To understand it's reason for being,

And feel all that I knew You were seeing.

But I only found you innocent and naked,

My love, my life became most sacred.

Yes I'd do it all over again,

Be found naked and walking in sin,

To always be with you, my friend.

That Garden of Eden,

Was only created for two,

Yet now our souls combined in one anew.

In a love so innocent,

To withstand that banishment,

From perfection to Resurrection,

The toil becomes the dream,

And Beauty isn't what it seems.

Sometimes it can even be cruel,

To plant a tree and try to fool,

With restrictions set,

You sit and cast the net,

Knowing full well we would fall,

And never have a chance at all,

To live in a maintenance free Garden,

With You as our Warden.

That tree is the reason,

Our life is now for a season.

A brief time to walk the planet,

And destroy all that is on it.

In our quest to know all the whys,

We fall and live only to die.

We will never understand all Your ways,

But You give us a Hope to soften our short stay.

I took a bite of that apple to see,

That you were naked in front of me.

Sandra K. Harrison

Copyright pending 

OCTOBER IS USUALLY SCARY FUN

One of my favorite seasons is fall. Unlike spring, fall has a unique array of colors that drape over all of God's creation. Bright yellows, oranges and reds. Dull browns, creams and an over kill of dead foliage everywhere. The nights are down right cold and the days unpredictable in reaching highs of the 60's and 70's. Already, this past October 6th, we had snow in these Nebraska sandhills. So the colors are now set in tune, deteriorating at a faster pace while heavy night time freezes take a nature toll. And that's not all ...

Fall colors splash all around me as I sit in a created throne of pillows and blankets, sipping on ice water and typing this post, while I continue to recover from back surgery I had on Oct 1st. Of course the type of surgery I had was of last resort. A fusion of my lower lumbar, the L4/L5. After much counsel it appeared to be my only option to stabilize a very damaged area in my back. I am recovering well. At least I think I am. Never had this type of surgery before and since pain was the biggest issue ... there is minimal to no pain on this day, 3 weeks and 2 days after surgery. I'm no longer distracted by pain and so this fall has my attention.

October is my scary fun month in fall. Halloween is the fun, with all the costumes and CANDY! Scary is in some of the costumes, decorations and haunted houses/corn fields and parties. I can't always do the haunted house thing. Strobe lights wack my balance and my claustrophobia attacks are hard to control in dark, cramped areas. But the element of being scared in a fun way is such a kick.

I am praying that my healing continues and will be advanced enough to get involved in the Halloween festivities that Ogallala supports. The parade is a hoot. I don't remember taking my son and daughter in Halloween parades when they were little. Why is that? Did we have em back then? (Just about done with the pain meds for my surgery ... but maybe I'm still loopy?) Well, I give up trying to recall. I do remember taking the grandkids though! In my old age, I love the parade! And yes, I get all dressed up. I've gone as a vampire, a Native American, Bonnie (Ron was my Clyde), a clown, a voting booth ... and so much more.

As I wrap up this post, I look out the window and all the fall colors are now enveloped in darkness as the night nears midnight. I can hear the wind, not a violent as it was on October 18th but it is a cold, brisk blow. And what is that on the window? Snow?

I had to get up from my pillow haven and open the window ... yep! It is snow. Hm ... on the 6th we got less than an inch here in the country, near Ogallala. The 24th is almost gone. 8 minutes to midnight. So far the snow has covered the fall colors in a light blanket of white. It is beautiful. Closing the window and suddenly feeling tired (could be the pain pill I took earlier) I look forward to my pillow haven on the bed. Tomorrow, October 25th, when I wake, what will the daylight bring?