part two

The rain had subsided some as he walked along the highway. His thoughts were set now on reaching Laredo and the woman that he hoped would make this all better. He tried not to think about one year ago,almost to the day. His mind seemed to go where it wanted to these day. A car approached from the East and slowed to a stop in front of him. Mark watched as it backed up until he was standing beside the passenger door. Slowly, the window came down and he was looking into the face of a young woman.
"You look like you could use a ride. If you want, climb in."
"Thank you very much, young lady. I might get your seat drenched though."
"Nothing it hasn't been before. Please, get in before you freeze to death."
He made no attempt to debate with her any further. The car was warm and he didn't know how much further he could have walked in the storm.
"You really shouldn't be picking up strangers in the middle of the night, you know. I appreciate that you did but..."
"Who says we are strangers?"
Mark looked at her as the lights from an on-coming car shined on her face. His heart skipped a beat and he blinked his eyes to try and focus. She smiled at him and then looked out the windshield. He sat staring at her until she spoke.
"Mark, you are staring at me. Is something wrong?"
"How do you know my name?"
"You told me when you first got in the car. I am sure the cold and rain hasn't been kind to you. It is alright. We should be in Laredo by morning. Why don't you try and rest some."
"Laredo? Why did you say Laredo?"
"That is where you are going isn't it? You said it was but if there is somewhere else you need to go..."
"No, no, Laredo is where I am going. I guess I just don't remember telling you that either. I must be more tired than I thought. I don't even know your name."
"Kellie. Why don't you rest and I will wake you when we are nearing Laredo."
Mark knew that he needed to sleep but he also knew what came with the curse of sleeping. he tried hard to fight it but the lull of the cars engine and the warmth coming through the vents were to alluring. He didn't know when he drifted off but he knew he had, just by the memories that flooded his sub-conscious.
"Let's go, ladies. Everything is packed but you girls. We should be to the resort by noon." He remembered the drive. The weatherman had promised fresh snow and it looked as if mother-nature was going to oblige. The snow increased as they drove up the mountain. It wasn't long before Mark found himself driving in a foot of fresh snow. He could feel the tires slipping under the wet snow. His mind raced ahead to just as the Explorer slid off the road. There had been loose gravel under the snow and the back end of the big Ford was pulled into the cravess made by the sliding gravel.
An hour of digging and winching had left them "Stuck! That is what we are ladies. We are stuck good."
"What are we going to do Mark? We can't stay here to long. The girls will freeze up here."
"We will be fine, Callie. I can ski down the mountain and get help. It won't take me long to get down and bring back help. The heater will still work for you."
He remembered the last kiss he gave to his Callie. The girls hugged him and told him to hurry. He fought to wake himself. He screamed out in his sleep and called their names. He reached out and grabbed hold of the dashboard, squeezing it tight. He was oblivious to the young woman beside him, stroking his face,whispering gently to him. "It's alright, Mark. We are going to make it all good for you, sweet man."
He remembered seeing the vehicle going up the mountain as he skied down towards the small store at the foot of the mountain. He wondered who was driving and if he would stop to help his girls. He heard the screams again. He saw their faces plastered to the windows, their fear still on their precious faces. He remembered thinking he should stop and go back up the mountain. Their perfect Thanksgiving was about to be changed forever.
The events that followed were known to him only because of what had been relayed to him and the police later. Tara screaming, clawing at the window, Liza calling his name over and over again! "Daddy, pleaseeeee, don't leave me here! Don't let me die down here! Pleaseeeeee!"
He heard Callie screaming as the man pulled at her body, yanking her from her seat, her legs entangled in ski gear, holding her inside tight. He struggled to hold on to her. Mark's armed flayed all around the inside of the car. He felt the warmth of an arm an held on to it with everything he had inside of him. He could feel the arm sliding in his hands. His grip tightened, he pulled it towards him. He buried his face in the warmth and cried.
"Hang on to me, Baby! Don't let go of me, Callie. I need you so much in my life. Please do not let go of me!" He heard his name being called. He saw the Vehicle falling. He remembered now, looking up and seeing the other vehicle stop right where his family must have been. Echoes of a wench being operated, the screeching of metal again rock and the moment he saw the headlights of their Explorer shine straight up. A huge beacon, telling him the Ford was standing straight up somehow. That was when he heard their screams for his help. Callie saying his name over and over again.
"Mark. Mark, you have to wake up! You are making it impossible for me to drive! please let go of me!"
Mark woke with a start. He saw the Young ladies arm held tight in his clenched fingers. He realized it was not his Callie calling to him. It was his saviour from the storm that he held to. Not his Callie at all. He loosened his grip and looked away. "Oh God, I am so sorry. I was dreaming and thought you were..."
"It's ok Mark, I understand. We will be to Laredo in less than 3 hours. We will make this alright then."
"I still don't know who you are or why you picked me up. And why do you look like someone I know? You need to give me some answers."
"I am what I am, Mark. You will understand when we get to Laredo."
"They died you know. I left them alone to die out there!!!!" He began to cry again.
"You did what you thought was right Mark. It is going t be alright... I promise you."

A Thanksgiving Prayer... Part One.

He had not had a decent meal in weeks. Sneaking through trash bins to try and survive simply was not going to work any longer. Maybe it was the town he was in. Perhaps some different scenery would make his luck change. He gathered what was his and packed it in his Army bag. It wasn't much, but it was his. The rain falling on his head only served to remind him of where he had come to. He had to stop and think sometimes about where he had been. Car after car passed him as he walked the dark lonely highway. The lightening, the dark purple clouds that he was sure separated Heaven from this Hell he was in, lit up the night sky. He swore he could see the heavens right through the clouds when the lightening sparked and sent it's furious electricity to the ground. The ground shuddered beneath his worn out boots when the thunder crashed above him. Sad, lonely, tired and hungry, he walked the road without a clue where it would take him. Perhaps if he had known, he may have decided to have one more meal from Kentucky Fried Chickens well stocked dumpster.
Mark had not always been the man that walked the road this night. there was a time that he was a somebody. He was a father two times over. He was a husband that loved his wife more than anything else in the world. He was a son and an Uncle that was very adored by all he knew. A compassionate man tat wanted only to live his life with his wife and children. Not to much to ask for...or was it? from where he was to where he walked today, one would think he had asked for to much. And today, watching the clouds come lower to the ground, hearing the loud crashes of it's powerful strength, Mark... hated God.
He found an abandoned barn and took cover in it as the winds and rain cut through his exposed cheeks like a knife wielded by a Samurai warrior. The barn was open on one side, where the wall had given way. Mark found a small corner of the barn and sat down,leaning against the wall and remembering. His mind drifted back to that last day and though he tried to fight it, the memory won again.
"Hey baby, I have all the winter gear and skis loaded up. Tara an Elizabeth will be out in five minutes." Mark cried out in his sleep as the voice of his beautiful wife crept into his dream. Callie... the most beautiful woman in the world Mark would say. Her long auburn hair fell over her shoulders like a fleece an hung way below breasts. Her green eyes danced as if they had tiny fairies in them. She had a medium build that suited her perfectly. When she walked in her Levis, it was like watching a beauty queen taking the runway and making it her own.
"Alright then it looks like we are ready to go, Cal. Girls" he called out... "Let go! We want to beat the traffic on the long mountain trail."
"We are coming Dad, don't stress." It was now the voice of Liza that echoed through out his mind now. He reached out to the empty air as if he were hugging her. tears exploded from his eyes and he tossed around recklessly, trying so desperately to wake up. His body needed the sleep and was not going to let him wake this time.
Liza, 17 years old and a full fledged tomboy, she was the image of her mother. Her green eyes smiled at Mark and she flashed him her pearly whites. Teeth that had cost more than their new explorer. She was slimmer than her mother but had all of her mother's spunk.
Tara came bounding right behind Liza..Even when going to an outdoor event, she was dressed to kill. She looked like Mark, her dirty blond hair and huge blue eyes drawing people to her. Her smile was intoxicating and she seemed to more glide across the grass than walk. Mark smiled in his sleep for only a moment. Suddenly, his smile was replaced with a frown. Tears ran down his cheek again and he half lifted off of the floor in an attempt to stop the madness he knew was about to begin again. "No", he called out into the barn. "We can't go! Tell me you want to stay home, please! God, no, Stop it! She didn't do anything to you! Let her go!"
Mark could see her face, hear her voice calling out to him. "Daddy please, don't let this happen! I don't want to die! Please save me daddy. I am begging you!"
Mark saw her beautiful face, it's beauty changing from pure preciousness to the horror he saw when next he saw her. Tara, Liza and his beautiful Callie all were gone. Taken to heaven far to early, while he was forced to stay behind and relive the terrible ordeal that had now brought him to this barn in the middle of no-where. None of them guilty of anything more than living life and loving it. The thunder crashed outside again and a streak of lightening lit up the inside of his haven. He snarled at it as he woke fully. How dare it try to come inside the only safe place he been in for a very long time. He grabbed his duffel bag and went back outside , the rain still strong enough to sting his face. At this point, Mark really didn't care.

How long is forever???

Forever... Such a strong word. A word that has so many meanings and dimensions. "To be ever lasting", "never ending" "everlastingly, permanently, always, eternally, immortally, until the end of time, until Doomsday, until the Day of Judgment, on and on, ever, perpetually, always, evermore." I sit here today, the wind blowing and the snow looking as if it may be serious. I think of the many places we use the word forever. We love forever. We have days that seem to go on forever. We swear that our kids take forever in the bathroom.
But in reality, how long is forever? It says it is infinite. "extending beyond measure or comprehension: without beginning or end." That seems like a very long time and yet as we age, it doesn't seem long enough. When we are in love, forever seems so very short. And when our hearts are broken or hurt, we are certain that it will hurt forever.
As always, something brings on my writing and causes me to blog. This morning I woke and was looking out the window at the snow. I shivered at the cold that I knew would greet me when I stepped outside. I suddenly went back to a snowfall that I will relive forever. A snow that I wish could have lasted forever. Sheila and I were married in September of '82. Less than a month later, we had snow on the ground. Living in the Black Hills of South Dakota, it was not unusual to have 10 inches fall in a day. We had come home from a visit and Sheila was a little pregnant with our first daughter, Samantha. Save yourself the trouble of doing the math. Love happens.{smiles} We lived outside of town and had fields all around us. There were old street lamps along our driveway. We went outside and walked hand in hand in the snow. She suddenly leaned forward and grabbed a handful of snow and stuffed it down my back.BRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!. We chased one another and fell in the snow and made snow angels an ended the night perfectly.
Another forever came with that memory. We could not have known that it would be the last time we would run and play in the snow. Ten months later... Sheila was stricken with Muscular Dystrophy. Our life and the snow changed for us "forever."
How long is forever? It is as long as a memory, as short as a day and as precious as life itself. It is the time between falling in love and a snowfall and 24 years of Love. It is an eternity and it is a moment in time. Ever-lasting and magical...

The Bloggers Own Novels... Available to YOU!!!

I have been writing Since I was 12 years old. I started out writing Sappy songs. Slowly they became Love songs and story telling songs. I wrote and sang songs for many years, never really feeling it was where I wanted to be. Many years later I did go on to produce a CD of 13 of my favorite songs I had written over the years. I was 45 by then. In the mix of those years, life took on many changes. I was a rancher and a mountain man in Canada. I was the eyes for my blind brother an the legs for my wife many years. Life was sometimes hard but it has never been Bad.
I was a soldier turned husband and father. Two of the greatest blessings a man could be given. I was Bipolar and functioning, happy and in love... For 25 years, I continued to write songs and sing. I also dug out a novel I had hand written from the time I was 13 into my late 20's. I re-read it and thought that maybe I could add to it and make it a real novel. My interests having changed over the years, I finished it but decided to leave it sit on the shelf. What had happened while re-writing the novel however was this. I had been "bitten" by the writers Bug. It flowed through me like a river an burned inside my soul like a forest fire. I KNEW where it was I wanted to be. I began to write whenever and where-ever I could.
With a wife stricken with Muscular Dystrophy, two baby girls to raise and a life to live to it's fullest, I bought a laptop and wrote from any where. Hospital rooms that were a constant in our lives, the front seat of a car, a lake we stopped at to enjoy an inspire all worked for me. We lived a beautiful life and raised our children and remained in Love forever. And in the middle of it all, I wrote two novels. I submitted them to a publisher and became what I am today. That same man that is a father and friend and sometimes a singer... the same guy that has been a manager, a laborer and a KFC employee, became a twice published author. The poet, the care-giver and the Son and Brother found his Niche'.
So much more to tell but that is why I have 100 blogs for you to read. But, I also have a CD and 2 novels that could fill in your late nights or quiet moments when the kids are in bed and the house is Still. Scrolling down to the bottom of my blog site will give you a nice insight to what the two Suspense novels are about. Abduction and Until Death Do We Meet are both available through Amazon books and Barnes and Noble as well as Abe Books and Walden's. They are also available through me by ordering them direct. The added bonus to ordering them trough me personally is that you not only get a signed copy from the Author But... I enclose one of my Cd's free and I pay shipping in the United States.
Ask me about them... I will give you the details. Thank you for reading this. Always, Darrel

Today, I will write about something you will see ONLY today. I do not like politics in my blogs as we are all individuals and have the right to vote how we wish. I come against actors and singers and anyone that uses their position in the lime-light to promote their own intentions or political stand, as if we were too stupid to think for our own selves. I will not use my blog to do what I condemn other for doing.
My Purpose for writing today is not about the men and women running for offices through out the United States. This is for our boys In Iraq and Afghanistan and Saudi and Korea and anywhere else we may have soldiers fighting for Freedom. It isn't relevant whose Freedom they are fighting to give or preserve. Whether they are trying to free a country or watch the borders of our own great country, they are out there. They are putting their lives on the line for so many reasons. Fighting to give freedom to countries Oppressed by their leaders. Stepping forward because their country has asked them to do so. Proudly displaying our Freedom Flag for all the world to see. The Stars and Stripes waving in the wind to offer Freedom to any country that is not able to experience the Freedom of choice that we in America take so often for granted.
Since the fight for freedom of slaves, the war with the French, our fore-fathers taking back or holding on to the freedom that so many died to give to us. World War 1and World War 2, a nation that gave so many lives in Viet Nam and at Midway. Soldiers that I am so proud of and that I am proud to call Our heroes. These brave men and women fought also for the very reason I am writing today. They fight today in foreign lands to assure our safety and for one other VERY important reason. They have ALL given to us, fought for OUR right to live Free in a democracy. To raise our children in the Land of the Free and to know freedom that few other countries know. A freedom that we Do way to often just Assume we will always have. I guess time will tell on THAT issue.
Today... we have that right sitting in front of us. Your personal vote is not an issue here to me, nor is mine to you. If you do NOT exercise your right to vote today, then what are you saying, what are WE saying as a Free nation to ALL of those brave men and women that died so many wars ago? What are we speaking to the Heroes that are fighting for us today? Let us not be a people that let All those lives that have lived and died for us on the battlefields be for not. We are Free to vote today Because of them. We are a free Nation because our brave men and women have made us so. Today, when you exercise your freedom, take a moment and say a silent prayer for our Soldiers. Pray for their safe return home. Pray for their safety while they are away fighting. And say "THANK YOU" to each and every one of them as I am doing HERE today. I will thank them and pay homage to them one more time today when I Vote.
DON'T Let this one get away! THANK YOU to ALL of our Soldiers. And I pray God Blesses America!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Always, Darrel

A great way to Make some fast money.

I have advertised for this survey site. Now, I am writing about them. I have watched my PayPal go up daily now for a month. How is it doing that? Very simple, really. I just wait for the offer to come to my e-mail and then CLICK! It opens to the DollarSurvey site and away I go. One survey, one dollar in my paypal account, usually within one day.
I do not get any special pay nor credit for you joining this site. I get only the satisfaction that with others working this site, it will be here for a long time. Please take the 10 minutes it will take for you to sign up for DollarSurvey.net and watch your paypal add up. Surely you too can use an extra dollar a day in your paypal account. It doesn't get any easier than this to make a buck! Give it a try.
I would like to add that I had a problem with one of the surveys. I wrote to the administrators and received a very prompt response from them. It was courteous and they addressed the issue and it was fixed and done in a moments time. That is what prompted me to write a bit about them. It is nice to know that the survey site has real people, just like you and me, watching out for our interests. What a great site to be a part of.

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...