Win VS. Victory...

Happy Halloween to All. I received a lot of responses to my last post concerning Bipolar people and their loved ones. I was amazed at the people that live with bipolar people and chose to simply pretend that the disorder did not exist. They felt it was simply an act or that their loved one/friend was just looking for some attention. As they read and saw so many similarities in what I was talking about and their person, they began to think that maybe the issue were real. Sadly, one even spoke of their loved one not being taken serious for too long. They lost the battle with life and left a family wondering what they had missed. I took some time and tried to comfort them as best as I knew how. Sometimes,comfort is a long time coming and a hard fought win.
I sit here today and wonder how many bipolar people have been left sitting in a store as the battled to gather their thoughts and find their way to the front door. Too many to really want to know I am sure. I have a young lady that has been my daughters best friend forever I think. She is as much a daughter to me as my own two are. I would do anything for her that I would for my two. She too is Bipolar and suffers many of the same things that I do. We think the same thoughts and battle the same daily wars. Together, we make it through each battle, sharing our thoughts and feelings. But since we will fight the same issues again, we are not yet victorious. As long as we walk through fires and feel some days that life isn't where we want to be anymore, we fight without triumph. And yes, we Do have those days.
Not every battle that is gotten through is a win. But each is still a victory. That may sound strange but there is a difference in winning an being victorious to me. This is the dictionaries take on the word. {{Being the winner in a contest, struggle, war etc; Of, or expressing a sense of victory or triumph
en.wiktionary.org/wiki/victorious}} It says being a winner of and yet sometimes we can win but not be victorious. This applies whether we are bipolar or not and I understand that but to walk in my world a few moments, perhaps you will understand. There are so many times when I have made it through the day, I have won the right to see tomorrow. But was I victorious? If I know that tomorrow will begin anew, with the same issue I just battled does not leave me feeling victorious.
As I spoke to this person concerning her lost loved one, I thought about this. She said that after she read the blog, she felt that she understood more of what had been signs of the coming tragedy. She said it comforted her in a way to finally see that She was not personally responsible for the loss. But why did she not feel totally released from this issue, she asked? That's when it hit me that we can WIN a battle without being victorious in the War. I explained that she had won a great battle but that she had not yet forgiven herself for feeling as if she had missed something. That would be her victory. She understood.
One more way to look at it is this. When a country or a people go to do battle, they often win but not always are they victorious. The saying "we live to fight another day" is the personification of my life. Sometimes they would beat the enemy back but they knew they would fight again the next day or the next week. A win but not a victory.
Each day that I wake to see another day is a win. Each night I lay down my head to sleep is a win. The day that I do not want to leave, when the time comes, IF that time ever does come for me, that I do not wake and need to write down all the reasons I can think of to stay another day, then I will call it a Victory...

Escape... do we really ever do that!?

Escape... A word with so many meanings. To get away seen or unseen is just one. Sometimes we seek to escape from the world around us. As I sit here and ponder the latest Low I "escaped" from, I wonder how far it is that I have escaped. I think about those around me and whether they too have sought to escape. Not from their surrounding world but from me. The issues I deal with I know they too must deal with. The Low lasted for a very long time this round. It took me places I really do Not like going.
And then I think about why it is that I write these things in my blog. I write them for two reasons. One reason is that the writing is therapy for my heart and mind. It allows me to flush some of the things that awaken me in the night from my mind. It creates for me an avenue to release some guilt or pain or heartache that plagues my soul. To perhaps start fresh... a new day, and to escape from yesterdays failures or hurts that I may have caused someone that loves me.
I also write here to help others maybe understand the world of a Bipolar. It may be someone that is Bipolar or a loved one that deals with a bipolar person. I hope to open some eyes to the world that we live in everyday by telling about my own personal life. Understanding that Bipolar does not only effect those that are diagnosed but it has very often the same or more issues for the loved ones that give us a "safe" place to hide.
I was terribly disturbed at a recent Law and Order SVU that was on T.V. this week. It opened by portraying one of the detectives daughters as "flipping out." It showed her becoming horribly violent and trashing everything around her. She stole a necklace worth a lot of money and hit and punched her way past her father. I am not here to say that there are sometimes extreme occurrences from being Bipolar. I know that there truly are. I also know that every bipolar person reacts differently in some way. We are all the same and yet very unique in our own way. What truly bothered me about the show was that they never really got around to showing that we also live quite "normally" an are NOT always the violent ones in this world. The sole portrayal of only one side of the disorder is wrong and it leaves those that do NOT know about the disorder thinking that ANYONE that is Bipolar is a "bomb" waiting to explode.
There are so many people that do not understand what it is to be bipolar and their only source of information is what they see on T.V. I hope somehow to give people a better insight to being and living with bipolar, for both the bipolar person and those around them. Even members of my own family that see me each and every day sometimes question what it is and whether it really does exist. I know that it is sometimes frightening to think of a loved one or friend having this or any other mental disorder. For my family, the also have the issue of my tourettes to deal with. Even I feel sorry for them.;)
Have I "escaped" it if I am sitting here right now writing to you about it? Do I really ever "escape" it or do I just step back away from it for a time? I wonder... I think that maybe I really just hide for a while. I don't know that aside of meds, which my mind simply does not allow me to take, there truly may not be an "escape."

Things I know about "Remembering"

Last night my daughter came to me with a question. A question that surprised me as much as made me step back for a minute. It has been 2 years and 9 months since the Love of my life went to be with Our Father God. There are days it seems like forever ago and nights that it seems like only yesterday. This will probably be the same forever I would think. In that time I have battled with loving another for so many reasons. I ran from love as if it were a huge sin against everything I believed in. Did I deserve to love again when I had lost my way with Sheila once? Could I love again the same way as I have loved this precious lady for 26 years? Was I even allowed to have a second love when the first love was more beautiful than any man ever deserved to know... I anchored these thoughts in my mind for the past nearly 3 years.
Answers to these questions? I answered some of them in my own heart.Some were answered by Sheila her self. I am sure here are those that do not believe that those that we love revisit us after they are in heaven. I will not argue that issue here, today. I know in my hart that they do and that Sheila has visited me so many times in the past few years. Sometimes simply for comfort and other times she came to help me find the answers to questions that wracked my mind and infiltrated my dreams in the night. Thoughts that would leave me sometimes asking the very same question that Shannon presented to me. My heart cried all night pondering her words. Trying to answer my questions as best as I could. The deserving love I guess I am still pondering. Loving the same way was and will never happen again. I don't think you ever love the same because the person you are now with is not the same as your first love. Being allowed to love again I guess could be looked at several ways.
But before I get too far ahead, you must be wondering what the question was that Shannon asked me that started all of this today. Crying, she asked me if by choosing to love again, did it mean I was forgetting My Sheila. Would I now have a new life and new family? Would everything change forever? My answer was not hard to find. First off, our lives were forever changed the day that Sheila went to heaven. Nothing would ever be the same and nothing would ever feel like it did when Sheila was alive here. I told her that my decision to love again would never mean that I have nor make me forget her mother. I explained that I simply did not want to be alone for the rest of life on earth. I explained that she and her sister would always be my closest of heart as they are a part of their mother and the woman I have loved I am sure forever. The woman I am with will become an extension of my already beautiful family. I tried with all of my heart to show her that Sheila was never going to be less to me nor ever be replaced in my heart. Her places in my memory were solid and forever and would last until I died.
Being allowed to love again???? I don't know the answer to that question yet. I have cried a million tears today asking the question over and over. I only know that I will remember My Sheila long past when the last stars go out in the sky. I will laugh at the things we did together. I will remember our first walk in the rain. I will relive watching our daughters being born and watching them grow. Never will I forget the feeling inside of me when I saw Sheila walking down the aisle in her wedding dress. Absolutely the most beautiful bride any man was gifted to have been standing at the alter, waiting for her hand to be placed in his. Every moment she and I spent together was and is still a gift to me. My choice to love another will take none of that away.
Is it right for me to love again? To love someone until I leave this earth and join my Love in Heaven? Is it o.k. to give my heart, the part that Sheila does not hold, to another? Is it really better to spend the rest of my life giving pieces of myself to ladies, only to know that I will push them away if I think we are getting to close? Better to have one night stands than to truly love someone? Perhaps if it means less pain for my daughters... I am still working on this in my heart and in my head. Always, Darrel

Where do the years go???

In only a couple of months I will be 50 years "young." I am not worried nor does that number bother me. I feel graced to be alive and take each day as a gift. I look at the pictures that surround me here today. Baby pictures and grown up pictures. My daughters both grown and living their lives. Sheila in heaven watching us each day. No matter what happened in life, good, bad or indifferent, life went on. Sometimes it continued when I decided to not.
I listen to Karen Carpenter singing to me. She sings of "yesterday once more." The oldies but the goodies. I wonder when it was that the songs I listened to as I grew up became "oldies." Forevers shot to hell by the loss of someone beautiful and real.Trying so desperately to find a new place in the world. The world has kept turning and the Sun came up and went down whether I watched it or not. How many beautiful sunrises and sunsets escaped my eyes and memories? Stolen because I allowed the to be.
Have you ever suddenly realized that the world is still turning but you seem to be in a suspended animation of sorts? You want s badly to reach out and grab hold of the spinning world. You don't or haven't for so long you aren't sure you can hold on. It is a high price to pay when you realize what you have passed up for way too long.The years have not been bad to me ever. I don't feel 50 and certainly {at the dismay of some of my family}I do not act it. I love living{mostly} and to laugh and smile and be the reason that others around me Smile.
And Love... a beautiful thing that I experienced in the most precious way for so many years. Now, discovering that Love DOES still exist in my world. It is not unattainable nor un-allowed.It is there for the taking if I would reach out and embrace it. Something beautiful and as forever as my life allows it to be.A feeling that is like no other in this world. As beautiful as a sunrise and as gentle as a sunset.No reason to miss another such beauty when it i as simple as sitting and watching it happen.
The years... I don't know for sure where they all went to. Some to growing up and learning everything the world offered to me for the learning. Some years given to serving my country, falling in love with my sweetheart for 24 years. Jobs and hospitals and 2 daughters to raise filled in many years for me. None of those escaped me and I do embrace the memory of each moment. Walks around lakes and in the forest, a forest filled with colors now of the season. Orange an lime green colors mix on a single leaf. Red wanting to be orange yet holding on to it's own color for as long as it can. Leaves falling to the ground like tiny Magic Carpets, falling slowly, the wind catching them for a moment and whisping them upward for a moment before allowing them to fall to the ground. A breeze catching the leaves already fallen, scooping them off the ground in a tiny tornado and tossing them through the air.
Well spent years of love and smiles and happiness. Songs that although they are called oldies, they are fresh and new in my soul. They ring in my ear and I smile. They don't escape my eyes nor will tonight's sunset. Today is a Good day in the diary of a bipolar who lets far too many beautiful things slip past him. Where did the years go????? They have been stored in my mind, to be retrieved when I need a warm feeling or a good cry to cleanse my heart. Do not let them get away from you.Don't let the world turn without you holding on and enjoying the ride. There is beauty to be found if you just take a moment to see and absorb it. Those years can keep rolling along. I am blessed to be here to see them pass...

The measure of a Man...

Today was again one of THOSE days for me. There seems to be a lot of those lately. I sat and thought about the phrase "A good Man." I ran through my brain the "good" men I could think of in just a minute or two. Jesus of course came to mind first. The true personification of a good man. I thought of my father. A man that taught me right from wrong. Taught me how to fight and all the reasons a man shouldn't. He taught me about God and the spiritual side of God's word, things that would one day help to keep me here on this earth when I really didn't want to be. His love and discipline took me through many fires.
What made them "good men" in my eyes? They gave so much of them selves. They love unconditionally and never asked for anything back except to be loved and treated with respect. Their hearts true and honest. Their actions a lesson in being a good person. To be remembered by their loved ones and friends, every life they touch in this world. He has a strength that simply pours out of him. You can feel it and know it is there.My father still shows these qualities and has my love and respect.
And then I looked into that imaginary mirror that reflects our inner self back at us. Not a wanna be or how we wish we were. The true Us. I thought about what might make me a good man. I thought about the times my daughters or family have seen me in my bipolar state. I remembered them seeing me crying more times than perhaps a daughter should see their father crying. Where is the strength in that? I wonder. What do they see when they look at me? Do they see a man that they can come too and know he will be there. Do they look at me and see the strength that I have down inside. Or do they see what the world sees? A man with a disorder that prevents him from doing things that a "normal" as they call it, man would be able to do. To go in to a store without worrying if he was going to freak. To walk through a crowd, proudly holding his head I just because he is who he is.
Tears flow as I write this, wanting to be someone that will be remembered for the gift of smiles and love and warmth I have tried to give without expectations of anything in return except to be remembered. Wanting so badly to be remembered as a "good man." A man that stood up when he needed to and was a strength to all around him so they knew they could lean on him if they needed to. To trust him with their secrets and their sorrows.
Does this disorder rob me of being seen as the man i truly am inside? Does it mask the true man that loves with all that he is and gives the very best of himself so that others can know smiles or happiness? To be willing to be without or do without so that others can smiles. Willing to know the sadness of anyone he meets just so that another can know happiness. I really wonder what those that are around me see? Someone too weak to fight some of the battles that have come against me from time to time. Or do they see the man that stood by his wife through some very hard times? The man that loves them soooooooo much he sometimes can not contain it. A man that cries because he isn't afraid to show his warm tender side.
Do I measure up to being a good man? I wonder... I hope that I do.

A little more about being Bipolar...

I was asked a question today by a friend and I thought I might answer it here as well. The question concerned my being Bipolar and the mood swings that come with it. She was concerned with how to deal with them. Though she was not bipolar herself, she is married to a man that is. She wanted so badly to help him, be there for him, even understand him a little more, but found it difficult. The biggest issue it seemed for her was the mood swings and how to deal with them. They come and go with such speeds at times that she isn't sure where it is she is supposed to be. Happy or sad.
This is I think a common issue not just with the person that is bipolar but with those that are around them. The mood swings that occur with someone with this disorder are very alike and at the same time very different for anyone with bipolar disorder. Very often it is as confusing for the patient as it is the loved one watching and trying to keep up with the mood swings. Although there are many people that suffer the same as I, I can only speak freely of my own self. I think that you may find though that what I say is similar or exactly what you as the loved one may be dealing with. I go from the very highest of highs, that feeling that the world can not hold me back, that I can do anything and that I WILL be huge and famous, to as low as wondering why I am even here and why I should stay. The highs are so exhilarating and fill me with so much energy that I will move my entire house furniture around and may do this 5 times in a week. I will exhaust every ounce of energy I have, make love over and over and spend as much energy as I can before collapsing. I have the feeling that nothing can make me sad and that there is absolutely nothing wrong with me. It has all just been in my head. (This is often the times that people that are on meds for their disorder will abandon the pills, thinking surely they do Not need them. A dangerous time for many.} This mood can last from 1 minute to a week or more. Starting projects, one right after another, because i feel I can get them done BUT... the disorder still present and not allowing me to quite finish one before starting another.
In a moment, the time it takes for me to go into the bathroom, pee and come out, I find a LOW! The higher the high was of course the lower the LOW is going to be. Suddenly I am crying without reason. I find myself looking at the projects I started and realizing there is NO WAY I can finish them. Hell, I don't even have the desire to finish them. I want to be alone, go away from people and am irritated easily. Especially if a loved one is trying to help and wants to stay with me to watch over me. The lows often take me to wishing i were dead or feeling i can do nothing in this world but hurt the ones that love me the most. Thinking that the world would for sure be better off without me. Sadness the envelops every inch of my being and causes me to close up and become alienated from the very ones wanting to help.
Stomping away or barely walking, I go to the kitchen for a drink of water or the outdoors wanting to smoke a cigarette. I come out and I am smiling and wanting to joke around. Those around me are just settling in to the sad I have left them with and I am ready to have fun. But because those around me are not even settled on the one mood, I become upset because I can not figure out why they are so sad or confused. For me, it was just a blink of an eye and yet it was really an hour or two or three. Now comes the difficult times for the loved one looking in.
She asked what her reaction should have been and i had only one answer. An answer that is so hard on a loved one. "Go with the flow," I told her. Try and find that happiness that the patient was overwhelmed by again. Try, and I Do know how hard it is, to smile again and go on about the day as if nothing were different. To bring it to the bipolar side of the world. Love them and let them KNOW they are loved. Reach inside of your heart and remember that this is the person you love so deeply. Walk with them through their moments and always let them feel "safe" with you. NOT the safe as if you will beat someone up if they mess with your bipolar love or friend. That "safe" place is the place they feel that no matter how strange their actions are, no matter how badly they may act, alright and nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed by. That will go sooooooo far inside of that bipolar brain. Just don't let them feel as if they are a freak of some sort. They already think that without you telling them.
I know it is hard and in a sense, we only have the disorder to deal with. YOU have the task of trying to ride the roller coater with us. A ride that can leave you feeling so lost and so confused. A place that leaves us, the patient feeling as if we have caused you or another of the people that we hold dear in out hearts pain or sorrow and that is Unforgivable in our eyes and heart. I know it isn't much of an answer, I told her so too. She seemed to think it was the perfect answer. Who knows?
I only know this. That bipolar moment might have been a second long or forever long to you. They come and go so fast at times, I am dizzy from the ups and downs. This is the world of a bipolar. A world that you are in deeper than you may know. But a world that you are our safest place and the the only place we ever feel content, even if just for a moment in time. Hugssss to each and every one of you that deal with a bipolar loved one. God Bless you and "welcome to my world." Always I am, Darrel XXX

Things I know about Open Honesty...

As I sat here this morning, pulling the blanket over my legs to sheild me from the cold, cold, cold that is sneaking through my window, I thought about all the blogs I have written here. I re-read some and skimmed a few others. I imagined for a minute that it was not myself that had written them, but another person. I was the one looking in from the outside. I read with almost awe at the sheer Honesty that has been written into these blogs. Not at the skill or in a puffed out way but awe that the words flow from the pages in a way that leaves no doubt that the writer has lived each moment he has written down.
I read about my wife and the life we lived together. I cried silently as I remembered many of the things I had written down. I read about the Bipolar and the many ways it has effected my lifes desicions. I saw the words telling of things I had done and places I have been. Some of the writes simple and some at a depth that I wondered how I had written them. And again, as I read it all, well a lot of it, the word Honesty came back to me again. {Honor; honorableness; dignity; propriety; suitableness;decency}I looked at the definition several times. A thought crossed my mind. Was being so open, so honest, so open always the right place to be? Can a person be too open and honest? And if I didn't always finish a story,did that qualify as being "dishonest?" Was there truly such a thing as dishonesty by ommition? I thought about it and went back to see some of my blogs. Did I always tell the entire story?
I thought then of the many people I have the honor and yes, sometimes the Dishonor of meeting on-line. I remember so many that were not who they portrayed themselves to be. Sometimes a terrible disappointment when I would discover who or what they really were. I remember being proud in knowing that should you have chosen to meet me face to face, I would be exactly the person you knew on-line. But perhaps even there, the omission of some faults, a few quirps would come through when you were with me for a day or two. Did I lie? Did I falsify myself by not telling you that sometimes I twitch when feeling nervous or cornered? Was I dishonest when I "forgot" to mention that we would not probably go to a department store because i might freak and I didn't want you to see that part of me? So very honest in every way and yet...
So as I re-read some of the blogs, I wondered if I had told you that though Sheila and I had the most beautiful life, inspite of her illness, did i tell you I had cheated on her. Cheated on a woman that gave me nothing but pure love. Did I mention that we stayed together even after my infidelities and that I loved her with all of my heart, through out it all? Had I told you that the Bipolar often rendered me unable to move from the place i stood in the middle of the grocery aisle? That I cry nearly every night in my sleep?
Honesty I think something you can be without telling the whole story. There are things within each of us that are ours unless or until our hearts are ready to tell them. I search the blogs for stories of my yester-years. Ilook for tales of who i am today and things I do. And I realize that there are things you don't know about me. Things that my heart isn't ready to lay open for you. NOT bad things... I promise I never buried a body, I never robbed a bank nor have I caused physical harm to any others. I don't know if I qualify for the integrity part of honesty. The faithfulness went out when I told you I had cheated.
But... I do hold true to my sincerity in everything I write. I am fair and Lord knows I am straightforward to the point of perhaps a bit too much. Which I think brings me to the place that I originally started looking at my blogs for. A question in my mind. Can you be too open? Is it possible to be so honest it causes people to shy away from you? I have been more open in some sites. Open to the point of where some decided my issues with remembering or my openess concerning where the bipolar takes me at times, were more than they care to know. And they left. So now, with this written and my thoughts open as much as they can be, the question remains unanswered for me.
Honesty...a word to often easily tossed to the side and a word sometimes I fear taken to extremes... Darrel

Is a new love allowed????

Here is my opening... I shared the most beautiful life any man could have ever dreamed of or deserved with a lady so beautiful. She was my forever lady and my love for all times. I think of the day that I will join her in heaven
But if she is in fact my forever love then am I allowed to love again? To be InLove again? Perhaps not in the same way and certainly not as deeply. I NEVER want to feel that kind of pain and loss and sorrow again in this lifetime. But is it alright if I love someone again? Will it lessen the love I have for My Sheila? Will it take away my dream of one day being with her? Is it saying I have moved on and left her behind???????
These are REAL questions that plague my soul 24/7. I don't want to miss seeing her in heaven where she waits for me. Be kind with your answers, and be honest. She went to heaven 2 1/2 years ago and I still cry for her daily.

Things I know about picking up the pieces...

Memories are sometimes bitter/sweet. A subject I have written about before. Today is not about the bitter/sweet really. I was laying in bed in the very early a.m. The ceiling tiles had been counted more times than I cared to remember. I turned and stared out of my window and looked at the stars. I thought about My Sheila and wondered about times past. Not just about her and our life but about my life as a whole. My childhood, spattered with things that followed me right to the present. Some of them not really so great but none of them bad. I honestly can not recall a bad time in my growing years.
Starting out in Florida, with the ocean and sun and a life with parents that loved me totally. Never was there a doubt about that. Fishing and beaches and more friends than I can count. The moments only shattered now and then by the events that changed me I am sure forever. Things in my mind this morning but not in type this morning. Saved maybe for another time.
Moving to Arizona when I was six. More friends and more"encounters." Still no bad memories. Beautiful weather that gave me my first glimpse of what Autumn was supposed to look like. Laughter and smiles so common there wasn't time to have sad or bad memories. Returning to Florida three years later and making new friends and starting some things all over again. Realizing that each time we moved, I picked up the pieces of my life and carried them with me. Understanding this morning that though they weren't bad memories, they were sad sometimes. Saying goodbye to old friends and meeting new. Each time a brand new experience. Each move bringing with it new events and new experiences. Seeing things from the past when we would return to a place we had lived and wishing I could retrieve them and pick up where I had left off. Friends that had moved on and filled your void with another friend. Moving then to Canada at 12 and once again, starting over. new and beautiful events and scenery. Mountains that surrounded us in the valley we lived in. A fifteen mile drive back into the wilderness, no running water, no electricity...only streams and wood stoves and Coleman Lanterns. Walking out of our front door and looking up at the mountains and trees. The tallest Ponderosa pines and Larch trees I had ever seen. The smells of the wood burning in the cook stove. Elk and Moose walking through our field of 500 acres, unafraid of us. Black bears that roamed sometimes too close to our house, hoping for a meal of piggies or chickens. Streams filled with Rainbow Trout to catch and the water, never seeming to warm up. One family, 5 miles back further than we were, thankful they had daughters. Learning to live a new life and survive a new way.
Moving once again back to the States, to Nebraska and civilization. I guess that's what it was called. Seventeen years old, leaving behind a girl and a lifestyle that had made me older than my 17 years. Too mature to "hang" with the ones my age, too young in years to be wanted by the 30-40 year olds I was accustomed too. Picking up the pieces of almost 18 years of new places, new people and trying to figure out where it was I really belonged. Finding love with a woman twice my age for a time because, well she fit my world.Being told one day that we couldn't share a life together. "The world won't accept it" she said. Confused again at where it was I was supposed to be. Relationship after relationship, never able to stay in one because my life was about moving on to new places, new events. Again, never a bad moment in my life, only sad ones when I said goodbye.
From Nebraska to South Dakota to Texas to Nebraska to Iowa, these were my homes. Finally settling in Iowa for 20+ years, raising two daughters, loving one woman, something very new all in of itself. The wanderer in me promising My Love I would not ask her to move again, at least until our daughters were grown. We had already seen 3 states in 5 years of marriage. No longer having to pick up the pieces from old places, old friends left behind to start over again. Different. But not bad at all.
I laid there this a.m., reliving each place, each life and each Love that I had left behind. I realized that although I had not moved, something huge had occurred in my life 2 and a half years ago that left me trying to pick up the pieces again. Realizing this morning that the ONLY thing I ever really got to take with me was my memories. Anything else was "bio-degradable" by time. I felt the tears. I fought them and called my self an idiot out loud. I told myself I had picked up the pieces of dreams left behind, loves and friendships gone by for 45 years. Why... why is it so hard to pick the pieces up today? Why am I so afraid of moving on when I have made it a lifestyle since I could remember?
Perhaps... maybe this time, the event was BAD, not just sad. The loss of my Love wasn't like moving away. An event I could go back to one day and "look her up." For the first time in my life something was permanent. It couldn't be undone. It could not be revisited as all the other things in my could be.Memories would only bring on more memories. Tears begot more tears and sorrow brought on more sorrow. And now, I am scrambling to pick up the pieces again. Trying to put together a life, a puzzle of sorts, except that one piece is missing now.
My life has been a giant jigsaw puzzle. One of at least 1000 pieces. Everywhere I moved, every friend and every love and event was another piece to put in the puzzle. The puzzle that is a portrait of my life. An absolutely beautiful, life enriched, blessed puzzle that would be a Thomas Kincaid portrait if it were painted. The vibrant colors of more love than a man deserved. The cascading waterfalls of a background of life and friendships. The dark colors of trees that are some memories and the mountains, filling the backdrop of places I have climbed. Can this Puzzle be completed with a piece now missing? Can I pick up the pieces of a shattered life as I have done forever it seems?
What I know about "picking up the pieces" of life is this. There is always something, some part of yesterday that gets left behind. Sometimes, the pieces simply get to numerous to hold all at once...

things i know about medical and Life Insurance...

Today I am going to write a bit about something way to close and very important.Being on disability and having only Medicare, I understand the need for some sort of medical Insurance to help cover costs of the ever rising cost of Medical treatment. I also watched over the 24 years that Sheila was so sick as million dollar policies were used up and the need for supplement Insurance, not cheap by the way, became a huge issue. We had to get loans from banking companies and loan offices that often cost us very high interest rates. these were to pay off hospitals that had already made 100's of thousands of dollars from Sheila's policy. When the policies ran dry finally and she was uninsurable, then the state began to help her. She took so many pills and the coverage for the pills was frightening. We had to pick up a supplement insurance policy to help cover the cost of her medical supplies. the policy was very expensive but it was a "had to have" for her. The aide we have to help with medicines is poor. There are people that go without and place their lives in great danger because the simply can Not afford the cost of their meds. This should never ever be an issue.
Let's talk about life insurance. A very touchy subject for me and I am sure so many others. I have sent in for life insurance on more times than I care to say. Sheila wanted to get some but she was always told she was uninsurable. When she went to heaven, my daughters and I were hard fast to find a funeral home that would understand our situation. It added a bit of stress to us and though we made it through, it made me think about when the time comes that I am called to heaven. I filled out several of the "you can not be turned down" policy applications and GUESS WHAT!!??? YOU CAN be turned down. I wonder how it is that a person is to try and leave their loved ones in a way that they do not have to come up with moneys they may not have to properly bury you or cremate, whatever is your choice. Insurance company's make millions, probably billions from their clients. I guess I don't really understand them.
I just think that someone needs to come up with a REAL plan for those of us that are "Uninsurable." There has to be a way that someone like me to be sure their families are taken care of when they lose a loved one. Just blowing off steam and talking out loud...

More things I know about seasons of life...

I sit here today, I watch the rain falling down outside. The splashes it makes when it falls into the puddles already made by last nights rain. The sound of it hitting my windowsill and the screen are a little like bacon sizzling in a pan. Leaves once set tight onto their branches now roll down the street as if they are late for an appointment. No rustling sounds as they are soaked by the rain. A calm fills my soul as I watch nature going about it's business, oblivious to my watching eyes. A hot cup of coffee warms me against the chill that sneaks into my window. Through it all, I find myself thinking about the seasons of life again.
In a low that has stayed with me for what seems like weeks now opens my mind to the sadness that sometimes comes with a season ending as another one begins. It is early September. It should be hot and humid and yet, I watch the temps plunge into the high 30's, rush to find room inside for what have been outdoor plants since spring. Check tomatoes closer so I know when to pull the green ones and wrap them in paper to finish their ripening indoors. And I think to myself how much like life this often is.
I think about friends that have come into my life. Close, meaningful friendship with the potential for so much more. Some that simply filled a spot in your heart for a time or that you perhaps filled in theirs. Each one, special and each one different, just as the seasons are. I think about the times, like today, when the season, the weather that it brings seems to be out of it's time. Fall rushing in before it need be, only to bring winter long before we are ready for it. Into our lives often come people that perhaps seem out of time. But they are brought into our lives or us into theirs for a reason. Sometimes, the road we were walking on at the time allowed a door to open for them to come in. Sometimes, we have gone out, even perhaps unconsciously, and sought them out. What we do with the moments in time we are given is how we will face the next season. The next step in a friendship, a relationship. Much like the impending season coming that follows the Autumn coolness, we can choose to breathe in and go forward, knowing that Spring too will follow Winter, or we can sit and mope and worry and wonder. In doing so, don't we risk missing the enjoyment that is Autumn? Will we be so absorbed in the coming season that we miss the smells of the first Autumn Bonfire. Will we sacrifice the fragrance of a fireplace somewhere in the distance? The soft gentle breeze that warms our days and the crisp coolness that causes us to snuggle under a light cover as we sit and watch the evening fall?
People, friends, loves come into our lives like the seasons. Not always as expected, not always when we thought they would. Sometimes they come early or out of no-where. But their gift, their beauty and all that comes with it is still ours to enjoy as long as it is there. To embrace it snuggles and fragrances for as long as the season stays.
A tear finds its way down my cheek as I think of winter waiting so closely in the wake. The teardrop perhaps for winter itself. Maybe it is for the season we fear may end all too soon. Long before we are ready for it to go. More tears, a feeling of alone. But also, a feeling that maybe, just maybe, you opened a door for someone. Thinking now it possible that you DID touch a life or two and gave to them something they thought lost forever. Even...even that They brought to your life a gift that you thought also lost to the winters of time.
Fall is here early, like it or don't. But do not let the thoughts of the next season steal from you what is beautiful today. Embrace it, play with it, laugh and smile as much as you can. It is only here for a time, a blink of an eye sometimes it seems. Let it be yours until it goes away. Who knows, maybe it will be a long, beautiful Autumn... Darrel

Writer Gazette

There are so many writers, good, talented writers today, trying their best to find a way into the market. It's a tough market and there are literally millions wanting to publish books of every size and genre. Being a published author, I understand the frustrations that come with trying to get read. So when a site is available that can help break down some of the "red tape" and stress that can take away from what a writer does best... writing, I like to turn eyes towards that source.
One of the most helpful sites I have had the pleasure of working through is The Writers Gazette. A site that has been listed in the top sites for Writers Digest for the past 4 years in a row.#3 of The Writer magazine's "25 Best Writer Websites". Krista Barrett has brought together in one place the very best of the marketing industry. She is a one stop place to go for what you are looking for concerning writing. Her innovative means of always keeping the site updated and filled with USEFUL information, had helped to steer many writers on the right road to being published. I use this site as a guide for publishers looking for just exactly what I write. Her listings are always up to date and insightful.
Aids for Writers, Article Listing, Ask WWOW, Books for Writers, Book Reviews
Get a Book Review, Freebies for Writers, Guest Columns, Links for Writers, Message Forum, Writer Statistics are just some of the things you will find at her site.
Some others are {{Writers Manual - http://www.writersmanual.com
Bobby the Bee Children's Book Series - http://www.bobbythebee.writergazette.com
Snappy Scenes Photography - http://www.snappyscenes.com
Ebookscafe: http://www.ebookscafe.writergazette.com
Inside Writers Guide Book Series - http://www.writersguide.writergazette.com}} and many others.
Come with me and have a look at Krista and her site. You will find something there of interest no matter what you are looking for.

CuteWriting... Don't Miss It.

Once in awhile, you run across a blog site that just makes you stop and say WOW!!! You start out thinking maybe you will look for a moment and then move on. You realize, as the phone rings and you must look at the time that you have spent, well, longer than a moment there. You run the things through your mind that you are finding there. And if you are a writer like me, you find yourself glad you stopped in.
I found just such a site today. A site that I call the "Super WalMart" site of blogs. WalMart... You know, the store that you can get everything you need, all under one roof! Well, that my fellow writers and readers is what this site I was introduced to today is. The "Everything you ever wanted to know to write but were afraid you wouldn't find it" site.
CuteWriting has something for all writers. She has placed inside informative links and well written blogs that will guide you through writings little bumps and scratches. From "Your Complete Guide to Typing on QWERTY" to "Publishing Your Short Stories How-to Guide", she gives you avenues and places to go so that your writing experience can be what it really should be. A writing experience.
If you are a writer or you are thing about the idea of being a writer, go have a look. She has something for everyone and I promise you, it won't be a wasted trip. There is more to her blog then just blogging.

A little bit more about that word... Bipolar.

I sit here tonight, 2 a.m., wishing I could fall to sleep. I fear it will escape me once again and the prospect is both pleasing and tiring to me. Insomnia is no stranger to me. I have know it well for 20+ years. Why I suffer is perhaps for another write. Tonight it is because my mind is too busy pondering things. I am a writer. It is what I do, what I love... my passion. With that being said, I, like a million other writers want to be the best at what I do. I want my readers to always want more of me. What writer doesn't?
But tonight, I don't write about being a writer. I write about the one that writes and carries with him a little more baggage. With my desires and fears of writing, I carry the tag of a Bipolar. You know, that guy that starts 20 projects, but not because he has so much time that he needs 20 projects going. He starts 20 because he doesn't sometimes finish the others. That would be me. I consider it one of my greatest accomplishments that I have finished so many stories and even have several novels published.
Perhaps you live with it, know someone or... maybe you even are someone that shares this disorder with me. Maybe you know the guy that started 20 projects and 19 of them sit unfinished, scattered from one end of his home to another. Maybe I can shed a bit of light on this for you. It isn't that we didn't intend on finishing them. It isn't that we don't care if we do or don't. But with completion comes the opportunity to be judged. The chance to have someone evaluate what we have done and say "wow, it's great" or "man, you suck." Even simpler, kinder words meant only to help or point out a tiny flaw can send me into a LOW that will take weeks, maybe longer to come out of. Something innocently said that caused me to think on it, much longer than someone else would. Too long some would say.
I saw words tonight that were I suppose meant only to offer an idea to change something. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I worked it through my head for hours and simply could not shake it. Tears fell like someone had died. The sheer realization of how thinly clad my heart was made me sit and wonder how it is I even function some days. The fear of failing at anything isn't always the failure part. It is the embarrassment that hits my system so hard that I can barely think. Even as i sit and write this, I wonder if I should. Do I paint myself a freak or whiner or do I open eyes for others to see that they are not the only one in the world that does these things, feels this way?
Thinking that I may fail at something that I love or want so badly leaves me questioning everything around me. Things I know to be good for me and yet so afraid I will not be able to give it my all leaves me not following through at all.The things I have lost because I was so busy thinking I would fail that I didn't take the time to step up are too many to count. I only know that I lost them because of my fear of failing. Fear of disappointing someone. This is my life, the way I live each and every moment. This LOW is nothing new to me, but each time, I wonder where it will take me this time. Braver in leaving than in staying.
Tonight , I hurt inside. Tonight or is it this morning... it all runs together for me, I will sit up all night and think on one simple thing that my heart feels. Tonight I will be alone and I must ponder that too. Morning will be here before I know it...

Fabric...

Carrie saw Evel putting his helmet on. She knew she had very little time to slow him down. She had to buy them some time. She was Not leaving without Derek at her side.
"Mr. Knievel, wait!" she shouted. He stopped and removed his helmet.
"Well pretty lady, what are you doing back here? I am getting ready to start my run."
"oh I know that sir. I am with WKLT in Cincinnati, Ohio. I heard about your jump and wanted it on my talk show. You might have heard of me. I have the Carrie Ann show."
"Maybe I have heard that name, I am just not sure. I could give you a quick interview or just some publicity shots if you want. The crowd will wait for me."
"Thank you sir. I really just need some good photos of you and your bike. Then I will film you jumping. Sort of a before and after shoot." Carrie began filming Evel as he posed for her in different ways with his motorcycle.Grammie had been right... he was a Ham. She only hoped he was going to "ham" it up long enough for Derek to get back in time to pass through the rip with them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He ran like a mad man through the traffic and people. The crowd had doubled and space was not a luxury afforded to him right now. He could hear the sirens of the cops all over town. He wondered if they had found the cop yet. He hadn't meant to hurt the man. He felt terrible about the way things went down.The cop had left him no options. A beat cop spotted him running and Gerek could see him talking on his walkie-talkie. He looked up at Derek for a moment then shook his head in an affirmative way. Derek knew the cop recognized he was the man they were all looking for. Derek began to run faster. The cop was now giving chase and he knew his time was all but gone.
Derek reached the back of the Palace. It was the one place that from where he enter the Palace, he could not be seen by any cop. He slipped inside and ran directly into Carrie, who was busy filming Evel. she dropped the camera when she saw Derek. "Oh thank God you made it back here, Love. We only have minutes left before the jump and we ..."
Derek interrupted Carrie. "Does Grammie have the clock!? Please tell me she does!"
Hey there little lady. You dropped the camera. Are we finished with pictures?"
"Yes, I am sorry sir. I should have said something to..." she felt Derek pull on her sleeve.
"If we are to get where we are going, the time is Now, Carrie. We have got to get to Nina and that clock!"
"Don't forget to get shot of me coming down the ramp on the other side."
"No I won't Mr. Knievel," she called to him as Derek pulled her along with him.
Nina saw them coming and squealed with delight. "There they are Grammie. They are coming this way!!!"
"Yes dear one, I see them." Grammie unfolded the blanket she had the clock wrapped in. She set it on a small table beside the ramp. Derek and Carrie reached them and both hugged Nina. "You haven't much time now. It takes 45 seconds for Mr. Knievel to make the jump. He will rip the Fabric at 35 seconds and 10 seconds for the Fabric to tear down far enough for Nina to reach it. You will take hold of it and drag it with you. No one else will see the Fabric. As soon as you are all through and the Fabric touches the other part, it will be sealed. Now go, he is starting to rev his bike."
Grammie stuck something in Nina's pocket. They each hugged Grammie and then she stepped back away from them. Carrie clutched the clock tight as they stepped as close to the ramp as they dared.
"I love you Nina so much. And I do so love you, My Derek. No matter what happens or what we find on the other side, don't you forget that." Derek kissed her once more just as Evel Knievel was coming up to the top of the ramp. The bike left the ramp and sailed through the air. Suddenly, as if the back of the bike had snagged on something, the front fell forward. The bike and Evel plummeted towards the ground. Nina watched as the Fabric ripped and floated downward towards her. A commotion ensued behind them that caused them all to turn around.
"Stop that man. He is under arrest for assault and breaking and entering!" The cops raced towards them and panic filled their souls. "I will shoot if you don't step away now!" The cop raised his revolver and took aim at Derek.
"Nina, pay attention! Grab the Fabric now!"
"Nina looked at her father and then at the Fabric falling around her. She grabbed the Fabric as Carrie was going through the rip. A huge light shown through where the Fabric had once been whole. Derek took Nina's free hand and as the alarm sound on the clock, Evel Knievel hit the ground and the Fabric came loose from his bike. Bouncing like a rag doll, the last thing he saw before passing out was Nina being pulled into some light by a man.
A shot rang out as the cop fired once at Derek. Derek winced in pain but never lost his grip on Nina. They fell the air until they hit solid ground. Nina layed on her back, watching the Fabric reseal itself. The sounds of the people screaming in the Palace were now gone. The familiarity of her home, the warmth, the smells all flooded her senses.
"We are home again. Daddy, Mommy... we made it back." Nina looked around and saw her father, laying in his own blood on the floor. Her mother was just standing up as Nina called out to him. "Daddy, daddy... talk to me please. Tell me you are alright. Oh God, please."
Carrie Ann rushed over to him and lifted his head onto her lap. "Derek, baby, talk to me please. Don't you dare die now on us. We made it back before I had fallen. Please..."
Derek stirred in her arms. He opened his eyes and smile a faint smile. I do not recommend the Caesar's Palace. They have crazy cops that shoot people."
"Are you hurt bad, Daddy?" Nina hugged him tightly.
"No baby, just a flesh wound. Daddy will be alright. I love you both so much. Never again am I losing either of you.
Nina felt something in her pocket. She reached in and took out a piece of paper. She opened it and as she read it, she began to softly cry.
Dearest ones, always remember me when you hear the clock. I will always remember your beautiful family. We will meet again in your future... But that my dear ones, readers and all................. Is another story. I hope you all enjoyed. Always, Darrel