the Last Straw with my uncle

I haven't written a lot since the power went out and came back on about two weeks ago.

My uncle threw the last straw. I don't know that I even want him to be portrayed in a movie if there is one. He called my house one day and asked to speak to my aunt. She had gone to my other aunt's house and I told him. He called her there. He threatened to call Adult Protective Services on us.

The house still wasn't in order with her moving in.

We tried to get some things taken care of.

I hoped he would not follow through on his threat but he did.

Last Tuesday, a social worker showed up.

Everything was passed I guess.

Nothing happened.

I do not have an uncle anymore.

We are re-voking his power of attorney for my aunt.

I have been grieving over something, and I am having a very hard time.

Cindy

MY UNCLE and my aunt's business affairs

My uncle called the house phone today and asked if he could speak to my aunt. She had just gone up to see my aunt Rosie ( who lives in around the corner from me ). I told him she went to my aunt Rosie's. He paused. I didn't say anything and hung up. He almost acted like he wanted me to say something or converse with him.

He is STILL INSISTING that she (my aunt) turn things back over to him. STILL INSISTING that she turn things back over to him. He told her he was sending something for to fill out from the Retirement system and to send back to him which would switch things back over to him.

It was news to me that he was even trying to get her to do that. I was surprised. He acted like it was her choice and he wasn't going to put any effort into it, but he is obsessed with her (possibly) making a mistake and he's not going to bail her out if there is a mistake made. He bailed her out one time and he's not going to do it again. He is obsessed with this pursuit. Absolutely obsessed with it.

I called the attorney that has been a "go to" of mine over the years, the one who wrote a glowing recommendation and knows my uncle. The attorney was in charge of handling my mother's estate. ( and my uncle was the executor of the estate and this is all accounted in my book) I told him I wanted and that my aunt wanted "George's" power of attorney revoked. He talked to my aunt and said for her to write a letter to him saying she did not want him involved anymore and to come in to the office next week.

Well, that was today and still no power. Days are mush to me. Every day has felt like Sunday.
Have to go and have to send this to Ellen.

Cindy

the police involvement

I went to the police station last night and let a police officer listen to my uncle's message about getting them involved any bringing up charges. They said he didn't have a leg to stand on, to not worry about it, that if he showed up on my doorstep they would tell him to leave.

MY UNCLE

I talked about writing like someone whose writing I just read, but actually, I think he had help with it. I think he got his wife or hired a secretary or speech writer to write it. It's my uncle.

I think I should give you some background. My uncle ( I have mixed feelings about anyone playing him now, but the guy Matthew Perry is going to play in the movie--complete positive and wishful thinking--) has been paying my aunt's bills (Maggie in the book, his sister, my mom's "little" sister) since 2004. She had a stroke which I think I mentioned. Won't go into it. Anyway, she has been feeling unduley controlled by him for a very long time. He sends her money each week which comes from her Teachers Retirement account. He has been SO very obsessed with making sure that she has a savings fund or "rainy day" fund. He has begrudged her having her apartment cleaned and Especially carpet cleaned at the apartment. She had pets in the recent past ( I hope I mentioned, he HATES, loathes dogs and cats ) and he totally begrudged them.

Well, my aunt went to an attorney and had her money switched over to her own checking account, where it would be direct deposited. She didn't tell anyone except the woman who cleans for her ( and myself sometimes ) and is a very good hearted person. She's helped "Maggie" a lot. She told me about it and she knew "George" would be blowing a gasket. Well, he found out about it a couple days ago, and he blew a gasket. I told him I didn't know about it. I have been playing lightly with the idea of asking him for money to pay my phone bill ( $374, because I haven't paid it in a while ) or for the deductable for my insurance if it will pay for the blown siding and tree that fell. ( Uh, if the insurance will even cover it )

He didn't indicate that he was going to press her switch things over to him again. Not at all to me, but he would call and talk to her, and she said he was telling her to have it switched back over to him.

Somewhere along the line, he got it in his head that I was trying to keep her from talking to him. Today, I talked to him at around 11:30 am. I have had a terrible sinus infection and aching head and jaw and sore throat. I told him I was sick. He asked how and I told him. He asked me if my power was back on, and I said, "no." He showed a 1/16 of compassion and said, "Oh my goodness." He asked about talking to Cleta. He had called my cell phone, and I told him to call the house phone and Cleta would answer. That happened. I slept some more. I got up around 2 pm. My aunt and I went to the Waffle House about 4 pm. Well, my uncle called while we were at Waffle House. He showed again a 1/32nd of compassion ( I had to ask my aunt what was less than 1/16---I've recently come to have a greater understanding of fractions, 1/32 is less than 1/16, and 1/16 is less 1/8, and 1/8 is less than a 1/4 ) He asked me how I was feeling with 1/32nd of compassion. It really didn't sound sincere but I might consider thanking him for asking. He and I didn't have a great reception on the cell phones. He asked me where I stood on what my aunt did, about changing her deposit into her own account and taking care of her own stuff. Where did I stand, whose side was I on? I said I had been thinking about it. He asked, "How long, 24 hours?" I said no or something. I said I thought that since she was living with me now, that it would be easier for her to just give me the check for rent (since there are not a lot of things involved) and he said, and I will say it in a separate paragraph, very, very, very hateful to the max,

"Are you competent to do that or are you going to screw her up like you screwed up yourself?"

I couldn't believe it is not the way to describe it.

I had known that if I had proposed the idea he would bring it up.

He and I had a moment where if we had weapons in our hands we would have killed each other.

I said, "Oh, don't go there," and he did this thing where it seems he's throwing words together in a split second, and I hung up.

I'm not sure where I was when I listened to some messages but he left some messages sometime before he called me while we were sitting at the Waffle House. I think my aunt and I were at McDonalds. I went there to use the Internet. He must have called the house while WE WERE AT THE WAFFLE HOUSE OR ON OUR WAY TO THE WAFFLE HOUSE. He said, and I am not sure how I can repeat them word for word. I really can not go back into them at the moment, though I know it would be beneficial to continue in explaining the tone.

1st message---he said something about if I didn't let him talk to my aunt he would get the police involved and make up charges on me.

2nd message--Something to with me acting like a child.

I was confused and listened to the messages again. I was again, confused and felt like I had been hit with a silver bullit. No idea where he was coming from. She had talked to him in the morning. In NO WAY was I trying to keep her from talking to him! ( and I'm not mad at you with bold capital letters ).

I called him and said that he was no longer my uncle, that I was disowning him, that he was deceitful and had no compassion in his heart for anyone and that he was going to be going to hell.

And I hung up.

He called and left another message and said I have childish traits and it's not the way to start over in life, or something like that. He said something about me reading a script.

I realize I never had an uncle to begin with---You truly can't lose something you never had, and I will leave it to each and every person to determine if that had something. ( People used to tell me that I never had "Josh" and therefore couldn't lose him ) not sure if that makes any sense. I swore I lost "Josh" and I had him. It's coming out different than I had thought before. Point is, I do not have a loss---he never was an uncle. My dad's brothers were uncles. They loved me. I knew they loved me. Even uncles that I may have not seen every day, I knew they loved me. I didn't see my Uncle (and I'll use his real name) Bob all the time, but I knew he loved me. My Uncle Donnie would take me to the store with him and when he got his pack of cigarettes, he'd say, "What do you want Cindy?" I remember one time I got fruit roll ups and one time I got my dog a collar. One time when I was little, I was sick and lying on the couch and my Uncle Bill came in and felt my forehead. He said, "She's warm."

Why, why, why could he have not been that way?

When my mother was given the death sentence, he and his wife were trying to coerce my mother to move to Georgia with them. I would have had to have given up my dog, everything I knew, and I knew I was going to lose my mom. I couldn't stand to lose my dog---she was like a sister. I was crying while I was on the phone with him, and he said, "Cindy, I can't understand you with you crying."

I actually forgot that he said that until today.

I respected him my WHOLE life. I thought he was the coolest. I thought he was handsome. I had nothing but respect for him and wanted my whole life for him to respect me, because I respected him so much. He almost had "celebrity status" in my mind. And I realized today, that it's not worth my time to worry anymore about whether or not he respects me.

Power Outage

A lot to catch up on. I suppose Ike came through Ohio, and we had the strongest winds we have ever had. In the area and town in which I live, power was lost throughout. And I know I'm not talking or writing like normal. You'll find out why in the next post. I'm trying to be on my best grammar and appear as adult like as possible. Actually, I'm writing kind of like someone whose writing I just read ( if it is his at all ).

Haven't had power since September 13. Trees down everywhere. No power. Candles lit at night. Dark in the bathroom, and you haven't lived till you've had to hunt for the toilet seat or find yourself trying to sit on something that isn't the toilet seat. Nothing to do. No contact with the outside world---no TV. I could have read the newspaper but that would have really have made me feel deprived. I usually read it for fun or because it's there--not because I have to.

I really, really, really feel horribly for the people who went through Hurricane Katrina. Oh my Goodness. You really do not know what someone has gone through until you have walked in their shoes.

I have lost track of the days of the week. For all I know, today is Sunday. I'm at Panera Bread and this is the first time I've had the chance to get here (to this blog).

I think that is all I will say about the power outage. OH---people across the street, up the street, around the block have power but I and the people on my particular street do not.

That is all I will say---READ THE NEXT POST Or Posts.

I can still remember your eyes poem

This sounds a bit like the Johnny Cash song, "I Still Miss Someone," but I didn't intend that when I wrote it.

By Katherine Lucinda Taylor



I can still remember your eyes,

Your eyes, oh your eyes,
That used to be in front of me when I’d look at my friend LuAnn (whose eyes reminded me of yours)
Oh, your eyes that I used to fall into
Get lost in
The twinkle, the somberness at times
Always stayed in my mind

I could see and can see
While looking over there
Across the room
Out the window
At the rug

Your eyes, I could see everywhere.

A little more about me, in another way

I will let you know, this is not a piece written by the man who wrote the Unfortunate Event series of books, but I may begin writing that way. If I had known he would have been so successful, I would have written the series myself, but most people would have said to me, “Are you sure you want to be so glum?” I will never forget the first time I opened up one of the books. The first page said something to this effect: “I’m going to let you know right now, there is no silver lining to the story in this book. It does not occur at the beginning, middle or end. There is no happy ending.” It seems as if my life has been a series of unfortunate events, and I’m hoping that there will be a happy ending, though in my story.

I had a great life. My dad died before I was born, but my mom was awesome. She knew how to beat struggles. She was a teacher, and she taught me about teaching. She never stopped being a teacher, even when her career was cut short in 1982. She taught for 25 years, and in the middle of her 25th year, the school system said she was an “incompetent” teacher, but she was in no way incompetent. She was very competent and loved by her students. I ran into a former student the other day, and when I told him what had happened, he was saddened. He said in his memory of his teachers, she was thought of with fondness, that what happened was “unfortunate.” He is an attorney. She had quite a few students become attorneys. Oh, she taught science and biology. I know she was a good teacher because she taught me about the mysteries of science. I was always a bit “slow” in science, and she knew how to explain it to me. She knew her stuff.

When I was 16, she was diagnosed with colon cancer. Actually, she was diagnosed in an emergency condition. She had been having severe abdominal pain for weeks and had puked every 2 ½ hours the night before she went to the hospital. I could tell by the clock when I would hear the awful sound. It was like “clockwork.” The words were ones that I had always feared: Cancer. But, the surgeon said when he came out of the emergency surgery, that he got it all. I had always heard when, “They got it all,” it seemed as if life would continue, that it was good news. I told my mom when she awoke from the surgery, that it was cancer, but “they got it all,” and she looked relieved. I thought, “we got it all” was the silver lining. I thought it was just a little “burp” in life, but it turned out to be a struggle the next three years of her life, our life.

She/we struggled for the next three years. The cancer went into remission for about 6 months, and then it ravaged her body. She died July 12, 1994.

So, I continued going to school. I had started college in the fall of 1993, and I finished my classes the winter the cancer ravaged her body.

I was majoring in psychology, and now, I wonder why I did such a thing. People that major in psychology get a Masters in it or counsel people. I wasn’t interested in doing either one. I thought, and had heard, “you just need a degree, and a degree in something,” and that was what I went with---I thought I could get any kind of job. So, after graduating in 1998, I got “any” kind of job, a job in insurance, 100% commission. I thought I was going to make it “Big” anytime. I lived off savings, from my mom.

At some time, in my second year, of insurance sales, I decided I needed a job that paid, for your time. I got a job at a bank, and my uncle (my mom’s brother) is ever reminded that I didn’t stay there. I hated it. Hated it. I cried before I would start the day. I knew, at that point, in 2000, that I needed to work in a school, in spite of what I had told myself.

There was a resentment on my part toward the school system that had said my mother was incompetent and fired her in the middle of her 25th year of teaching, stripping her of her right to a retirement party and “hooplah” when someone retires. She should have had that retirement party and she should have had honor, instead of having to pack up in January and leave her career in education behind. There is a point of no return when you have years of experience in education: no one wants to hire you if you were toward the end of your career as a teacher, and especially if you were “fired” on grounds of incompetence.

I, somehow, found a way to get past that resentment. I, somehow, knew I loved working with kids who had learning problems more than my fear or resentment of what happened to my mother.

I also had problem with the stock market. The stock market is not a place for amateurs, and I lost a bunch of money. I knew I needed a career with a future and stability, and on that I would love. I had heard that special education was virtually recession proof. I “smoothed over” that resentment and went full tilt into special education.

There is something I forgot about---in 1997 or 1998, I met a guy, lost my heart and it would seem, lost my head, also. That struggle hit me quite heavily recently.

For a year, I worked in an urban school district as a special educator, before I got my license from the State, to teach.

I loved my student teaching experience and loved the district. It used to be, though, that it was easy to get jobs in education, and I suppose, special education, but over the years, it has been increasingly difficult. If you are willing to move, yes, maybe there is a shortage, but then again, you may be competing with people from the area that is out of your area. I thoroughly believe that for every opening in a school system, there are countless numbers of people interested in each and every opening.

My teaching test was mis-scored in 2003, and the 2003-2004 school year was a complete mess. I finally called my University in 2004, and asked if they knew of any openings, anywhere. Sure enough, thankfully, there was an educational opening. It was 50 miles away, but I took it. I took it, and I loved it. I loved it. Loved the people. Loved the place. I was in love.

In 2007, my long, three year “honeymoon” ended. They didn’t need people who performed my job anymore. I also found out that there was a glitch within a Federal law and my state, that may have further “tripped” me from getting another job.

and today, Sept, 12

I have to get my TB test looked at and must leave in a minute. I do feel good that I got a job, not far away, at Walmart. It's encouraging. The people seem very nice.

Going to post something I wrote about myself and a poem,

Cindy

Today, Sept, 11

I got a job at Walmart. I start the 16th. $7.50 an hour and I’ll be working between 30 and 33 hours. I got my TB test (required for substituting) the other day. I’ll sub as much as they will call me and work at Walmart from 5 pm till whatever time. This isn’t how I wanted my life to be and it’s not how I want it to be. I want to be in a school full time. I don’t want to be there on a momentary basis, as a bystander—I want to be there full time, a part of the culture. I so miss the culture.

I feel like I’m being split down the middle.

And yes, today is an anniversary of that awful day in our history. I will never forget where I was and what I was doing. I was sitting in the teachers lounge of a school, and I had on CNBC. I watched the first plane or the aftermath of the first plane hit and then the 2nd. I walked down the hall and told the school secretary that we were under attack. When I went to the 2nd school ( I traveled between schools ) I found out that there was a plane that was headed toward the White House but it crashed in Pennsylvania and that a plane crashed in the Pentagon.

It was an awful day and time, to say the very least.

Someone was on my mind the whole time. I know I’m not using his name or the alias I gave him now---I just can’t for some reason.

I had a strange dream last night. I dreamed my mother was still alive but she was going to die. I’ve had those dreams before, that she was dying again. There were people taking boxes out of our house. I guess we were going to live with the uncle whom Matthew Perry should play. Somehow I met a friend I hardly ever see. Somehow there was a baby left somewhere and I was going to take this baby. My cousin (my aunt’s daughter; the aunt that just moved in) was in the dream. We were all traveling, and I was determined to raise this baby. Well, someone let the authorities know about it and the baby disappeared. I can’t forget what it looked like. It had curly brown hair and squinty brown eyes. I was so irked that they did that. My mother wasn’t acting like my mother, and I kept thinking, this has got to be a dream. I wish I would wake up. Why am I not waking up? This person isn’t acting like my mom/mother. We stopped somewhere, and I was talking to someone I went to school with a long time ago, and I told her I was going to be waiting for my mother to die.

I know I’m not saying his name or the alias I gave him. I just can’t right now. Something happened over the past week, and I said all I can say about it in the other post. I wish I could explain more.

I can say that I never quite got over him the way I should have. I know that now. When I had my job, the job I loved ( and I’ve been in mourning over losing it all this time, from August of ’07 till even now ), I didn’t think about him or what happened. It was in a separate place. It was over. I thought I had moved on. It was in its own box in my life, but that box has been opened. It’s almost smothering, knowing I can not face him on what happened, and that I must live in this solitary place with it. It’s a solitary place. I will say that during this past week or so, I felt a closeness to him, though I couldn’t see him and I felt those wrongs had been made right, when it was like I went on a “mini-vacation,” or “trip.” May sound weird. There’s been two images I’ve had of him all this time---the person who would listen to me, who seemed to believe in me, who knew my name, and then the person who said what he said and went on to seemingly have a great life. I have wondered if what I experienced was just a “fluke.” I don’t think “fluke” is in the dictionary if someone doesn’t know what it means. I have thought it meant, a rarity, an oddity, something by accident.

Well, I feel a little better.

Cindy

as much as I can

I'm going to talk as much as I can about that thing that is disappointing.

There is someone I lost, a long time ago---and I've talked about him. And something came up this past week or so that made him seem close though there is no logical way it could have been, and if I'm sounding weird, forgive me.

There is no possible way to get back who I had or lost. No possible way and I guess I went on a trip, a little mini-vacation, and I've come back.

It all made sense for awhile. It all made sense. But now I see it makes no sense. And we have to live in sense.

It seemed crystal clear at times. It really, really did but doesn't today, anymore. If it could just be---if someone I had loved with all my heart could just love me back---if it could just be. Want, need that family I lost in a way. Want, need that companionship that I am owed by life--not sure why I "lost" him the way I did---

I'm just in want and I'm just in need.

Did I ever get over him? It doesn't seem like it, and especially at the moment. I'm crying like it was yesterday. I'm crying like a baby, except quietly. How nice it was to believe what I was believing for what amounts to a moment in time. I don't know how people get over things. I just don't.

And, I just shared about as much as I can.

Cindy

and today

And today---went for an interview at a nursing home where I'd be an activities director assistant. It's about 30 miles away---24 hours a week, $8.25 an hour.

I stopped by a school, the local vocational school, where they have an opening. I filled out their questionaire they wanted to be filled out. I had gotten an email from them about an opening. They said the Intervention Specialist position was greatly needed. I so hope I could fill it.

I also got a call from Wal-Mart to come in for an interview. I do that tomorrow at 11.

There's something else disappointing going on, and I can't discuss it. I just can't. Wish I could but can't.

I think I need to but there's no way---

Everywhere I go, I wonder how people got their jobs. I wonder. Everyone I see, I wonder.

I so need to be doing something. I so need to meet people. I so need to get of where I am.

A movie about my mom's life would be nice, too.

A job in a school, a movie about my mom and a man would be nice.

And, also, if anyone knows of a good person or two that would take a cat or two off my hands, that would be great. I know I need to reduce the pet population at my house. Just email me, if my email address is up there. If not, email me at ctay396@live.com That may be different from what may be at the top of the page.

Cindy

the Spring

This past spring, I set out on a mission. I may have mentioned a company called VEMMA, or maybe not. It stands for Vitamins, Essential Minerals, Mangosteen and Aloe. That is what the product is composed of--and it also contains green tea. I have been involved with it for several years, in hope of making some me mega bucks--but also because I love the product. It is a home based business. Unfortunately, most people I'd tell about it would say, "How much for a vitamin?"



I forgot to mention--it is a liquid vitamin--liquid based, not capsule. Most people have different things to say about how it tastes, but I think it's really good mixed with orange juice or some kind of citrus based juice (though not grapefruit).



Well, I thought about sending people information that probably wouldn't object to how much it is--roughly $60-75 for a month's intake. So, I sent a letter and info about myself and the VEMMA to about 45-50 celebrities or people who may not flinch at the price. I sent info to some of the people I want in the movie. I'm not sure if I sent info to Ellen DeGeneres. The letter started out with Jerry Seinfeld. I sent one to him first and then sent a copy of it to all the other people. For some reason, I just felt I needed to send him one and the first. It is called the Jerry Seinfeld letter.



I also made a committment, if I could make thousands upon thousands of dollars a month, I would help pay off houses in foreclosure for people who were going through a rough, tough, hard time, especially if they have pets, because pets are for life ( I think that's a Humane Society slogan ). And pets are for life. I do not think anyone should lose a house, nor should they be separated from their pets and most especially, vice versa. Pets, if they are a part of the family like mine are, depend on their owners.

That's what I did.

Cindy

Sept. 8, 2008

Well, do you want the good news or the bad news first? Wish I could tell everything that happened this weekend, but I would appear a fool.

Not sure where to start. I always feel I must “stay put” on the weekends because not a lot can be done where finding a job is concerned on the weekend. I drove around a beautiful place in my hometown, here, where some beautiful houses are built and a couple pieces of land where one more could be built. I’d love to live in one of those houses or build a new one. Sure would, but at the moment (this is the bad news)---I have $1800 in my checking account, and that’s it. Ku-put. That’s all folks. I know I’m in a better spot than some people but somehow that doesn’t make me feel all that much better.

I would love a big house for me and my animals and let my aunt have a one story but big house to herself. How nice it would be. Oh God, how nice it would be.

I’m 34 and never thought this would happen. I had better dreams and hopes for myself.

I spent 7 years of my life working in the educational field or working toward it, and I didn’t think there would be a way I could be practically penniless at this point. I haven’t been able to ask my uncle for a dime (which I think I mentioned already), and I dread the day, which may come, for one.

Good news? I have an interview with a nursing home tomorrow about being an activities assistant, working with the elderly people in activities. It would be part time (24 hours a week), but it would be something. It would be something, and then I could substitute teach (fill in for teachers) during the other time.

How nice that would be.

I have a meeting with a temp. service this afternoon. I saw "sales position," $87 K. and I had never heard of a temp agency offering that kind of position. I thought I'd call and I have a meeting with them. Not sure what it's all going to be about.

I was visiting Mrs. E this morning for a second at the high school in town (where I went, where my mom taught for half a year but many more at the Junior High). How incredibly awesome it felt just being there---if I had a bunch of money, I’d just go in and soak up the atmosphere. Oh God---it was like a taste of a decadent dessert.

I just don’t think that some people can really appreciate what they have sometimes. I think it’s virtually impossible for them to fully appreciate what they have.

Cindy

So, here it is---September 4, 2008, not far into the month of September.

No Calvary yet, and I’m scouting the classifieds. I Am Trying to coordinate the best way to work out my life. There are home health aid positions that don’t require a nursing background, and if I could do that in addition to subbing (substituting for teachers) it would be a good supplement and I wouldn’t have to face food or a grill everyday. They have weekend and evening shifts. I just have to have something coming in.

I also am contacting an insurance group. Haven’t given up on the insurance possibility. I want a 6 figure income. I DESERVE it. I HAVE Earned it. I’ve paid time and dues.

I want my aunt to be able to live in a house that she would like and I want to live in a house I would like better, though I’m thankful what I have as long as I can have it, providing I don’t go broke, even so broke that what my aunt is helping with doesn’t help.

I would like my aunt to be able to move into a house, “across the river” that is right across a lonely road from a grocery store. There’s not a lot of traffic on that road at all, and is like a road to itself.

I would like to move into a big house, and the house that my aunt would move into would be big for her, I know.

People who have a job in a school are so lucky. They are so very, very lucky. I know the grass is always greener on the other side, and I’ve walked into a school where I’ve felt things are terribly wrong, but if someone has a good school job and are in a good school, they are so lucky. I never, never thought I would want to be somewhere and not be able to get there. Never thought that would happen. Never thought I would be held back from what I wanted to do and where I wanted to be. It’s not how I saw life. Not at all.

Never thought I’d be held back, and know that I have the talent and what it takes to do it.

Never thought I’d be here.

A friend said last year when I was newly unemployed, “Go get a job anywhere.” Well, I know most people do that. I know that’s possible. I’ve tried it, and I do not know why it doesn’t work for me. Tried it. Is it that I don’t want to do it, whatever it is? Why? Go get a job anywhere, anything. God. Why?

Hope people are reading this.

Cindy

at 8:45 pm

Well, as I start to write this, it's 8:45 pm. I thought about all the things I could have been, at dinner, having withdrawn $20 today. Nursing, secretary, even truck driver, and I became a teacher (special education teacher/Intervention Specialist), and can not use what I learned. I'm sitting here, unemployed and lost in the desert, totally out of the game.

Oh, this can't be my life. If I could write my life story, from here on, "Josh" would find me tomorrow, marry me and whisk me away. Then, we'd have a big wedding and Robert Downey Jr, and Vonda Shephard would sing, "Chances Are," at the wedding. Many people would come, and my family would be proud. That's how I'd write the rest of it.

Love that song. It's just like me and "Josh" except it wasn't at night when we met and Josh wasn't smiling but everything else is true. Everything else is true.

I am so so very broke. I do not know how to make it out of it. I am very smart--not smart enough to have kept this time away--but I am still very smart.

I need to do something with this writing thing--something where I'm sharing myself and my feelings.

But, again, how and where? I look at people and I think about how everyone I see is doing something with themselves. They are taking part in a skill of some sort. They have it going on, and I'm drowning in quicksand.

Oh God---there has to be a way out.

Cindy



Cindy

Well, I haven’t seen the Calvary yet, and there’s something I wish I could talk about, but I can’t.

I took my aunt’s keys up to the apartment office and took her to the post office to get her mail transferred. It’s extremely difficult for me to do anything. It’s depression, no doubt, but it’s difficult not to be depressed when you have a skill but can’t use, and you don’t know where the next dollar is coming from and you have a fixed amount in your checking account. I’m very scared and very worried and very depressed. Somehow that comes out more calm than I really feel. I’m scared. I’m worried. I do not know how to get to a place where I belong---and how I belong anywhere. I’m very lost. I have fallen off the track and I think the track has disappeared.

I filled out an application at a pizza place last night. How I could puke at the thought of filling out another set of paperwork for the IRS and State Tax stuff. Oooh—yuck.

I don’t know why I put off going to get that TB test that you have to get to Substitute in a school. Tomorrow. I’ll do it tomorrow. I don’t know why I put off the subbing procedures. It could bring some somewhat sustainable money, providing teachers are absent, but I feel like I’m glued to the mud in quicksand. I don’t feel I can move but I know I have to try.

I figured out that the people at the Ad company are jerks.

My house is all junked up with my stuff being moved out of place and my aunt’s stuff being moved in. It’s all junked up. I don’t know where I’m going to put the stuff that is junking the place up.

Oh God---let my dreams come true. Let there be a higher plan, one I can not see (wrote a poem with that in it). Let there be a higher plan.

How I feel I have failed and especially in the sight of my uncle. How I wish I could ask to borrow some money from him---but, that’s pretty much an impossibility.

I have so much talent and so much potential. I do not know why this is happening. How I wish the Calvary would come tomorrow, but I don’t know how that would happen either. There’s something that is keeping me going right now but I can’t explain it here.

Yeah, I’m scared.

Cindy

I just don’t know how people get through life. I don’t know how they get jobs, keep them, find a person to marry, etc. I just don’t know. I know I went to school and met someone extraordinary but not sure what happened with that.

Things are bad. Things are so bad. I have like $700 left on a credit card, and I do not know where my next dollar is coming from. I hate like sin ( my mom always used to say that) to have been living off a credit card. Hate like sin. If the Calvary doesn’t come this week, I’m going to substitute ( fill in for teachers ). If I see no sign of it tomorrow, I’m going to go get a tuberculosis test (you have to get a TB test to work in a school) and the background check. Going to, tomorrow, if I see no sign of the Calvary tomorrow. Haven’t heard from the woman at the advertising place nor the charter school. I was going to send the woman at the advertising place an email last week. I was waiting to hear from the school first but never did. I think it’s a little too tacky late to the woman from the advertising place an email now. I think I screwed that up, but then again, I think they were a little unfair to put me on probation because my aunt was moving in and I didn’t feel well the next day. Guess I just don’t have the toughness they desire.

I am going to ask the charter school for a copy of my letters of recommendation. I gave them the last good set of copies I had.

Nope, don’t know what I’m going to do or what kind of piddling job I can find to supplement the substituting.

I know my life wasn’t supposed to be like this.

I know.

If I ever get that movie made/when I get that movie made, this song sung by Robert Downey Jr, ( whom I LOVE and if I haven’t talked about him yet, I must apologize to him or let it be known I’ve been an idiot for not mentioning him) and Vonda Shephard. It’s on the Alley McBeal soundtrack. It's called “Chances Are,” and I love it. I could and have listened to it over and over. Robert and Vonda speak to me. The song is just like “Josh” and me, and there’s going to be a scene where I, “Leslie,” am driving past his house. The song is going to play in that scene, or maybe I’ll have it playing in the CD player. Robert Downey Jr. is just the best. He is so talented, up there with Jamie Fox and Wayne Brady (whom I adore also). Multi-talented. Loved it when RDJ was on the Wayne Brady show and he and Wayne jammed. Loved it. Awesome people. If I could wave a magic wand and marry “Josh” someday, I’d have Robert and Vonda perform that song at the wedding.

I would invite, also, Ellen, of course, and I’d have Oprah officiate the wedding. She can go online and get certified to do that, I think. I’d have Lionel Richie there and a big name among big names, Jimmy Buffet. (I've been listening to "Dancing on the Ceiling" again) A dear friend and her husband are great Parrotheads. They educated me on all of his songs. I had only really known “Margaritaville,” and “Come Monday,” before I met my dear friend. “Margaritaville” is going to be in the movie, too. It has a special place in our lives. Whenever I’d meet "Josh" in the place I’d meet him, that song would play.

The Calvary. I hope it comes. I pray it comes.

An Overdue Meeting

I thought I saw Josh at my graduation from college. That's what I'm talking about at the end. ------------------------------------------------------------- “An Overdue Meeting” Josh and Leslie meet but really __________and Cindy. It’s a peaceful area in his neighborhood. It is behind a funeral home, of all places. There’s tall trees and green grass. There’s a white gazebo and a little pond. He looks almost foreign to her, it’s been so long. He looks better than the last time she saw him but rugged. His hair is still blond and his eyes are still blue, and that’s all. She looks older, wiser and more confident. Her hair is shorter and she’s not as thin, but still beautiful. “Why am I doing this again?” she thinks to herself, when he walks up unsteadily and with a blank look on his face. “God, he doesn’t look the same. I didn’t want this person did I? Ok, though. I have to do this.” “Hi,” she says, in an unsure tone, and looks sideways. He nods his head. She’s sitting in the gazebo. He sits down, somewhat comfortably on the other side. There they are again, sitting across from each other. “I’ve been through a lot and I’ve been a lot of places,” she begins talking. “I’ve learned a lot. I know what I’m good at. I know what I love. I know now.” He seems slightly glad, but he’s quiet. “But, you know, of all the things I’ve found, I’ve never found anyone like you. And, I don’t want to hear anything about how ( I say what he said which I will say on Oprah).” She was showing her confidence and growth. “I don’t give a damn. It doesn’t mean a damn thing. Not then, and not now. I’m more than ( mention it again) ” He looked a little shocked and the look in his eye said he was taking her seriously on that point. “I gave you my all. I gave you my heart, my soul and everything but my body. I gave you all that I had in me. Maybe you didn’t ask for it, but you always let me trust you, and I just kept on. I’ve tried to be content with people who have come along since then, and they truly have nothing to offer me. What am I supposed to do? How do I get back what I gave you? How do I get it back? Huh? I gave you 150% of myself, and I got nothing but silence and rudeness in return from you. I got nothing.” He still sat silent, and he put his head down a little. She continues, “I’m so dead on the inside. So dead. I thought I was ignorant for thinking that we had something special because you could read my mind and just listened, and for thinking that I saw something and felt something when you’d walk me to the door. I thought I was ignorant for thinking that was the real thing, that it was special when everyone would say, ‘Well, he never tried to kiss you did he? You guys never went out. ‘ I thought I was just ignorant about relationships, so I finally kissed a guy, and everyone seemed happier with me. I finally joined the crowd, but you know what? I’m back to the beginning. It still doesn’t make anyone stay or validate a relationship.  I’d take what I had with you, again, if I had the chance, but I can’t find anything like it. What am I supposed to do? Tell me.” She forgot that he looked different—what he looked like didn’t matter at the moment. She forgot that there was so much time between them. She was back to being honest. She was finding herself again. It was like back there, again. Oh, she got him. He didn’t know what to say. He looked like the guy she saw out in the audience she graduated--confused, conflicted and at war with something. He had his head in his hands and then looked up, and looked in her eyes. They were face to face and eye to eye. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> (I debated at the beginning to make it that he tells her that he’s married, the most realistic idea and then I thought that if I did that, I’d have problems with writing all of it. I’m not going to make it like the last chapter of my book.)

This morning

Well, it’s 10:25 am here, no matter what time it says it is at the end of this post. And, I haven’t heard from the principal at the charter school. I do have to talk to her and see if she can make me a copy of my recommendation letters because I gave her one of the last set of copies.

I wake up if and wonder if and when I will ever have another paying job and if it will be something I can be happy doing. It is very important that I do something that fulfills me. I know that is not the way to look at it. I know. One should do anything legal to bring in money, whether they like it or not. I know, but it doesn’t usually work out for me if I’m just doing anything legal.

I think I shot myself in the foot with Walmart. I had a couple interviews at different stores set up at Walmart but forgot about them and especially since I thought I had the advertising job. ( and I told my uncle I had the advertising job ). I didn’t even call to tell them I wasn’t going to be there---one completely slipped my mind and I was actually working my one day at the advertising place and forgot to call.

My uncle probably doesn’t understand why I can’t get and keep a job.

I’m going to post something I wrote a long time ago. It’s not the best writing in the world—just something I was playing around with.

Cindy

A scene I may forget

I didn't put this in the book, and I'm afraid I may forget if I don't write this down.

My neighbors always had parties/outdoor get-togethers with their friends and people in the community in the summer. Two people that always came were the former principal (not the Tom Hanks guy, currently uncast) and the guy who eventually became principal and was the Curriculum Director, I believe, at the time. He had some influence in making life harder for my mom. Well, we (my mom and I ) would sit out on our front porch and watch the two men walk up the hill to my neighbor's house. Sometimes they would put a hand out to my mom.

It was a yearly event.

Cindy

Catching Up

I know it’s been a few days since I last wrote. Things have been extremely difficult. I’m not sure if I said this before, but I have been completely unable to lift a finger in getting my aunt moved in. I guess it’s depression. I just haven’t been able to do a thing. A very, very nice person ( Mrs. E ) moved things in my house to help get things ready for my aunt’s stuff to be moved in. I have been a “nin-come-poop.” Mrs. E’s son had some friends who agreed to get my aunt moved in “on the cheap.” They had to cut it into 3 days over this past week. ( Due to my un-readiness ) It was finally all accomplished yesterday. I had to get a storage facility, at the tune of $149 for the initial set up, and it will be $95 a month there after. My uncle said that he didn’t want us getting a storage facility. I can see his point---he didn’t say this but I know it’s what he was thinking---when will things ever pick up for me that I can get a big house and my aunt possibly getting another house? ( My aunt has never been happy in an apartment and doesn’t want to part with anything. ) I also had to pay for some things I didn’t necessarily want to the other day. I have a credit card that needs to be paid so I can get some more money out of it. I had a great meeting with a principal at a charter school on Thursday. She said she’d call me if they had enough kids for me to work with who had IEPs ( Individual Educational Plans ). I haven’t heard anything but just put a call into her. Not sure if I could still have a job with the advertising publication. They call it a magazine, and I don’t really see it being a magazine. It has a glossy front and glossy ads, but I tend to think of a magazine as something with information in it. I emailed the manager over the weekend and she said she’d check and see with human resources if I could start again---she wasn’t happy I had to take the day off (to get my aunt moved in) after I started and then, well, I wasn’t feeling well the next day. I felt like a complete unprofessional. Complete “uncouth” person. I’m waiting on the principal at the school to call me back. My “new” bedroom doesn’t look bad and my “old” bedroom, which my aunt has now, doesn’t look bad either. I just have a family room with stuff piled up and a living room with stuff in it that shouldn’t be in it. And, I don’t know where my next earned dollar is coming from. Cindy

I wrote this poem and essay a long time ago. The poem is for my aunt and family.


To my Aunt and Family:


How do I say hello
After never forgiving
How do I say hello
After never forgetting
How, after never winning
But just always going on

With hello.

You said I was crazy
You said I was wrong
And I lived every day
Wondering how I belonged.

You, in your world of black and white
You, in your world, where you are always right
You, in your world, a world that was not mine,
Reigned.

In this world, you would go on right, and
In your eyes, I would always be wrong.
And you would have victory over a memory
That to me was so strong.


Don’t try to recreate memories
Don’t put someone down when they celebrate
Themselves.
Don’t you see then how you fly
And I’m left on the ground?


There’s a time in one’s life
When they have to find peace
And I finally found that
With my memories at ease.


Let me win.
Let me shine.
In a world where the sun went down and never rose again,
In a world that is finally mine.

November 15-20, 27,
December 13, 2002

He was the first person I loved since my mother had died. He was the first person who showed me love, by taking on my fears and feelings and telling me he couldn’t even handle some things, himself. He was the first person who could admit, to me, that he was human. He was the first person who showed care, who would stop what he was doing for me, and he wasn’t family. He wasn’t related. He was the first person who showed me with his eyes that I was allowed to fall and didn’t have to be so strong. He did all this with his eyes. It was the truest, most innocent yet magnetic, strong connection, in the way he’d look and the way he’d move. (ok Cindy, don’t get it back. Don’t get it back. Don’t see his eyes, and don’t see the toss of his shoulders and him lean back in the chair. Don’t sit in that seat again. Don’t be 23 again.) I knew I felt something for him. The warmth and strength he gave me was so nice. I felt ecstatic yet even frightened by it. I wasn’t making it up. It was real.

I said I didn’t think I’d be able to live if I couldn’t talk to him again, and I had too many people leave me. That’s what made all this so weird. All of a sudden, he did and said things that made no sense. The more people would say, “You were just (fill in with whatever demeaning verb phrase you can think of)” only made me think of my statement, “I don’t think I can live if I can’t talk to him again.” I didn’t believe it could be real. It was like somebody said, “You couldn’t live? Well, just watch yourself. You can do it.” Yeah, I did, but I didn’t want to. And as Celine Dion sings, “I’m alive.”

Sometimes, I’d feel that I had to prove something to people. Sometimes I’d think I had to prove my feelings to him and everyone else. Sometimes, I’d feel that if I achieved something great, I’d be able to have him back—allowed to have him back. I’d wonder if he knew what I was going through. I’d wonder if he ever wanted to rescue me from it, to feel the pain also. I felt “connected” to him through the pain I felt.

There were days I would awake and nothing made any sense to me. Nothing around me seemed real. I didn’t understand the past, and I sure didn’t understand the present. How could the future I hoped for and gripped onto ever happen if the present was true? He was nowhere to be found. Reality, sense and my faith clashed so many times, so many days.

I’d wonder if it was my fault in not being able to talk to him anymore. I’d wonder what I did wrong, if anything. When the family would say the things they’d say, I’d drop out of sight with them, wishing it would force him to call me. Stupid. I know. I was perpetually haunted by the last words he spoke to me, in a whisper, like he didn’t want anyone to hear, “See you later.” Why did he say it that way?
I knew that was a phrase people said that all the time, but not in a whisper. It reminded me of the Elton John and Leann Rimes song, “Written in the Stars,” came out, though I felt the crime spoken of was MINE. I felt like I had jinxed things. My oldest aunt would say, “You fell for him, but he didn’t fall for you,” in a grumpy way. The words of the song have rung loud and clear. I would feel I was drowning in it. Oddly, now, it’s a song of peace for me. It has become my answer.

“I am here to tell you, we can never meet again (ELTON)
Simple, really, isn’t it, a word or two and then
A lifetime of not knowing, where or how or why or when
You think of me or speak of me or wonder what befell
Someone that you once loved so long ago, so well

Never wonder what I feel as living shuffles by (LEANN)
You don’t have to ask me, and I need not reply.
Every moment of my life
From now until I die
I will think, or dream of you
And fail to understand
How a perfect love can be confounded out of hand

Is it written in the stars?
Are we paying for some crime (BOTH TOGETHER)
Is that all that we are good for
Just to stretch the mortal time
Is this God’s experiment
In which we have no say
In which we live in paradise
If only for a day.

Nothing can be altered
There is nothing to decide (ELTON)
No escape, no change of heart
Nor anyplace to hide

You are all I’ll ever want (LEANN)
But this I am denied
Sometimes, in my darkest thoughts, I wish I’d never learned
What it is to be in love and have that love returned

(TOGETHER, AGAIN, same words)

(GRAND CHORUS singing, Is it written in the stars, are we paying for some
crime…)

Is this God’s experiment, in which we have no say… (LEANN and ELTON) “


Stupid, I know. At the same time the ghost would live in my mind, I’d start to think, “What if he really was someone else and has this life that I can’t even imagine or bear to imagine?” What if my eyes lied? What if the essence of him just reduced down to that of a stranger? What if I was doing what everyone said I did? I didn’t believe I could have done those things. The Battle. As of late, my aunt said, “You chased him like a dog in heat.” It used to be that she’d say I made up stories or imagined things, which only made me wish more to know that my eyes to had seen the truth, but it wouldn’t have mattered if they had. She was intent on her belief. Those statements would open up the wound that was only barely healing. Maybe the line that says, “Sometimes, in my darkest thoughts, I wish I’d never learned what is to be in love and have that love returned” doesn’t even fit in my situation. Maybe everyone was right. Maybe my feelings weren’t returned, but I know what I saw, and I know what I felt. I know that if he was feeling something, too, and tried to approach it with me, I would have probably acted nervous and avoided it, but I felt. (I actually thought that was happening once.) I definitely Felt, and I sensed he did too, and that was awesome. Awesome. It was so awesome to actually think someone was feeling the exact thing I was feeling and at the same time. It was awesome. There are no other words to describe it.
A lot of the battle was the confusion—what I saw with my eyes and felt in my heart, and then, the outcome being completely the opposite. Part of getting through it---now, has been coming to a conclusion that my eyes did not lie, that he did all those things I said in the first paragraph. I’ve been able to finally accept every wonderful thing that happened without wondering what happened. I am now clear of most of the confusion. And, then it helped to realize that I’m getting older, children have gotten older (from ‘Landslide’ by Stevie Nicks), and if it was a dream--it had to go. I can’t run and play with fate anymore. I’m in its hands. And, lastly, realizing that he lost me—He lost me. I’m not wondering anymore, and I’m not longing anymore.

Oh, yeah. The Stevie Nicks song, which was released by The Dixie Chicks. ‘Landslide’--I was afraid of changing. I was so afraid of THIS. I did build my world around him and him around my dreams. I was afraid to really let go—so afraid.

If I was to have gained truth and insight and maturity through it all, I did. If when he spoke, “Take Care of Yourself,” at the end, meant that I was to set out on my own journey, alone, and survive, I did. I doubt I’ll see him again, and I don’t think he’d recognize me if he saw me. I’ve changed in many ways now.

I think I experienced something special, unlike anyone else I know. I think only I could have appreciated it, and I am thankful to have had it in my life. That’s why no one seemed to understand. It was only meant for me at that time.

Ending on a positive note, as Sir Elton sings in another song, “Don’t you know, I’m still standing better than I ever did, looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid? I’m still standing, after all this time, picking up the pieces of my life without you on my mind.” Yes, I’m still standing.

a poem not about Josh

a Poem not about "Josh"

I lie in your arms
And I hold your hand.
I'm as close to you as I can be.
Yet I don't understand.

You're going to Florida
You say you just want me to know.
And I hear in my heart, I can hold you for now
But then you'll have to go.

I can hold you for now,
And then you'll have to go.
And one more time,
another blow.

All the love we could make
Wouldn't keep you from that Florida break.
All the love we could make
Wouldn't keep you from that break.

My touch won't hold you here.
My body won't suffice.
The truth cuts the lie, just like a knife.
The truth cuts the lie tonight.

You're a man with passion gone awry
A man with something to prove
Intent on saying goodby
Hungry but will never find food.

And I have to be the quest.
Because I'm the best.
I deserve more, not less.
But I can hold you for now,
And then you’ll have to go.

"Austin"

There's a song, that always brought "Josh" to mind, but he never sang it. I just always thought of one of calling each other and being totally suprised.

"Austin," recorded by Blake Shelton


Blake Shelton, Austin Lyrics

Artist: Shelton BlakeSong: AustinAlbum: Blake Shelton

She left without leavin' a number.
Said she needed to clear her mind
He figured she'd gone back to Austin'
Cause she talked about it all the time
It was almost a year before she called him up
Three rings and an answering machine is what she got
If you're callin' 'bout the car I sold it
If this is Tuesday night I'm bowling
If you've got somethin' to sell, you're wastin' your time, I'm notbuyin'
If it's anybody else, wait for the tone,You know what to do
And P.S. if this is Austin, I still love you

The telephone fell to the counter
She heard but she couldn't believe
What kind of man would hang on that long
What kind of love that must be
She waited three days, and then she tried again
She didn't know what she'd say,

But she heard three rings and then
If it's Friday night
I'm at the ballgame
And first thing Saturday, if it don't rain
I'm headed out to the lake
And I'll be gone, all weekend long
But I'll call you back when I get home
On Sunday afternoon
And P.S. If this is Austin, I still love you

Well, this time she left her number
But not another word
Then she waited by the phone on Sunday evenin'
And this is what he heard
If you're callin' 'bout my heart
It's still yours
I should've listened to it a little more
Then it wouldn't have taken me so long to know where I belong
And by the way, boy, this is no machine you're talkin' to
Can't you tell, this is Austin, and I still love youI still love you

Some things about "Josh"

Songs that he sang, which may be updated as time goes along--

He sang in my presence. I've felt that he was singing just for me, to show off for me or to get some songs out to me, but that's just what I've felt. There's been no confirmation of the reality of my feeling.

He and this guy and I were in the lab room ( a setting is a computer lab ), and the guy had a guitar, and Josh was supposed to be helping me with some work. He picked up the guitar and started playing and singing songs.

1. "Come to my Window." by Melissa Etheridge

2. "He'll Have to Go," by Jim Reeves

3. "Jennie, 867-5309" the Two-Tone guy

4. "Amie" Pure Prairie League, He said my name instead of Amie's once

5. "All for You," Sister Hazel

6. "If You Could Only See, the way she loves me, then maybe you'd understand..." Tonic

7. "Lightening Crashes," Live

8. "Give Me One Reason To Stay Here," Tracy Chapman

9. "Suspicious Minds," Elvis

10. "Sweet Caroline," Neil Diamond

11. "Take It Easy," I felt it was the Travis Tritt version, but by the Eagles. He would be marvalous at any Travis Tritt song.

12. "Mr. Jones and Me," The Watchamakalits

13. "Walking on Sunshine," Katrina and the Waves.

14. There were probably a few more. The setting is also a college. A professor came to the door and Josh said in a low deep voice, "I'm sorry," very solemn.

15. "Burning Love," Elvis


It stayed with me---every time I hear one or have heard one of them, I have been taken back. Back there. That room. In my mind, being saronaided. And I wanted it one more time. I wanted one more private concert. And I never got it. It was like being given a decadent dessert and having it taken away after a few bites. All of it was---from the beginning to end---a few bites of a wonderful, decadent desert, and then it being snatched out from under you.

I gave him a card that said, "THANKS" on the front, and it was an acronym of sorts. After the T, it said "thoughful you," after the H, it said, "helpful you" and I can't remember the rest of the words for each letter. I gave it to him for "helping" me with some work.

He listened. He listened like no one I've ever met before. He said my mom must have "fought hard," and "Uh, Cindy I don't know what I would have done either...." about a situation that was going on. He reached out for my arm, my hand one time, when I said I was nervous about something, and he said, "Tell me why you're nervous." And he looked me in the eyes, and I wasn't afraid to look him in the eyes. I could look him in the eyes. He seemed to be my champion. He said I was smart. One time he was studying for something, and I said he'd get it, that he was smart, and he said back, "You are too," and that was the 2nd time he'd say it. We both smiled proudly at each other. I guess I was flirting. He'd walk me to door when I'd leave, and we always met in a lab room or in the hall. He had such a way about himself. Such a strut. Such confidence. Such a warmth. You knew when he entered a room. How I loved him. He wore his heart on his sleeve. When a girl left him. he'd be in the hall and start singing, "You lost that Lovin' Feelin'" Oh, how I loved him.

And I never really told the world I loved him. I told family and they said he didn't think a thing of me, because we never went out and he never tried to kiss me. (He did try to hold my hand but no one believed me) But I'm telling the world, if I can---I loved him.

Cindy

A Time To Get Things Out

I'm calling this the time to get things out. I've kept so much inside me, for so very, very long, and this is the time to get it all out.

1. That I loved "Josh." Josh.

2. That I had a mother worthy of a movie being made about her.

3. That my mother wasn't incompetent as a teacher or in any other way.

4. That I loved "Josh." Josh. Yes, again, I LOVED JOSH!!!!

5. That all I ever wanted to do was be an educator and work with other educators.

6. And other things that are probably not "coming to me," at the moment.


This is the time to get it all out.

I'm going to talk about Josh, and some things that happened with us, but keep in mind, you still have to read the book, and you still have to wait to hear the final blow of what he said. I'm not leaking that out.


Cindy

Letter to Josh's mom

I have to make this quick---I have to leave here at 4, and it's 3:30, no matter what it says at the end of this post.

I wrote Josh's mom a couple of letters in the past but never sent them. He said he had good parents, and I felt a connection when he said that----and I wanted to tell her she had a fine son, and that I loved him. I fell in love with him. I didn't think she could blame me for it.

From all outward appearances, I would have to say Josh is happy. I would have to say he's happily married, even though what happened between us was the most powerful thing in my life and he said what he said with what seemed forced belief in his voice. I have to believe he's happy and I have tried for years to respect that. I have tried to respect his happiness. I tried to tell him the last time I saw him that all I wanted was for him to be happy, and trying to forget that it would make me sad. True love, though, is being happy for someone you love and if they have what makes them happy, being happy for their happiness, even if it does make you sad.

That's all I'll say here. If God could wave a magic wand and make everything Ok---right the way I always innately needed it, oh, how it would be salvation. Not sure if I posted the poem that talks about salvation, being pulled back from the brink, but if I could have that. If I could have that.

Oh, Jesus is my personal savior, but there's another salvataion that I need.

I want to send her a letter and give her this blog address.

I'm far away from things that feel safe and right and innately needed. I feel so far away from those things.

But I have to end this here and get ready to leave for an interview with a school.

Cindy

If "josh" would ever read this

If you ever read this---I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry I said I "guessed *David" was the love of my life. I'm sorry I said "friends." ( People still shouldn't know what I'm talking about )

I'm sorry. I am so sorry. I feel I changed history by saying those things. I wish I had been honest. *David wasn't the love of my life and I knew it when I said, "I guess."

Oh why---why wasn't I honest?

I'm sorry and I regretted it from the moment I said it, and you looked like you were going to throw the papers up in the air. I can't tell you enough how sorry I am, how I've regretted it.

Cindy

Josh and our conversations

Josh and I had some incredible conversations---incredible. They're in the book. Everything that ever happened between us is in the book. But one, stands out in my mind and has for a very long time. It is etched in my mind.

I think I referred to it, once, when I said he said my mom, "must have fought hard." That was the most special conversation I've ever had with a man. It was just him, me and the lights overhead. He listened in a way no man has ever, ever listened. Some people might say the memory got better with time, but it was all that and more. He asked me if I had a boyfriend, and I tried to sound important and talked about "David" being the love of my life but having a girlfriend. I asked him if he'd take back the chick that left him if he had the chance. He asked me if I was going to Kentucky for Thanksgiving, in an inquisitive way---it was mid-November. I thought I might get an invitation to go to his place. "Are you going to Kentucky for Thanksgiving?"

I always thought of the song "Making Love Out of Nothing At All," by Air Supply, when I thought about him being married to anyone besides me. I've always thought he's had to be making love out of nothing at all. I wrote him poetry, and he "got me." He "got me."

He so "got me."

I loved him, and I just have to say it. I have to say it now---I loved him.

Cindy

see you later

This is all in the book---just about everything I've said is in the book, but the last time I saw "Josh," he said, "See you later." I will tell you, he "dissed" me--he excused me from his world or denied me his world---that's all I WILL SAY. I'm not going to throw out the exact words, because I'm saving them for Oprah, but the last thing he said was, "See you later."

I walked away shaking my head---thinking, "No, I'll not see him later." How could I see him later when he just said what he said? Why would he say, "See you later?" It haunted me. It haunted me for years.

Every time I would leave the place where we always met, he'd say, "See you later." He'd walk me to the door and say, in a heartfelt and sometimes quivering voice, "See you later."

And how I could cry right now---if I could just have the guy in front of me.

I screwed something up with the new job---I had to take yesterday off to be here when people were in my house and make sure everything that needed to be done got done (which is really making more of myself than I am---I haven't been good at all about getting anything done), and I had a digestive issue this morning and asked if I could come in at noon, today. She said, "yes" this morning (she being the manager), but as I was getting ready to go she called and we talked. Kind of like the talk I had with the manager who screwed up my notice at Frisch's (I did't say I wanted my last day to be my last day but she made it sound like it was all good if it was). Well, one time she and I had a talk and we talked about how I wasn't really into the waitressing. I said my heart was in education---this woman at the new job was worried I wasn't into this---and I said, as I always say, "My heart is in education." She wants me to think about it and call her Friday.

I don't know where my brain is---I don't knowwhere anything is. I always imagine the intereview with the person who got the job I didn't get---and I wonder how they were better than me or maybe I should say, everyone else that intereviewed.

Josh said I should be a writer. I told him I wanted to and he said, "You should. You'd be good at it." He smiled as he said it. He said it proudly. I've tried.

It seems like everything I've ever wanted and in an internal way, needed, I can't have at the moment.

Cindy

Going in Today

I'm about to leave for this new job.

How I wish a cup would be taken from me.

Soft place to fall---kind blue eyes and uplifting voice, a "there" voice.

When you accept things, you run up against a "rough" You run up against a "rough" and then you start walking, trying to forget that you are hurt, overlooking the hurt---that's what acceptance is---running up against a "rough" and overlooking the hurt. Acceptance.

Cindy

God, I ask

In some way, I'm reaching out to him, at the moment---if only this way---to get it out---to say those words I never said, and to know now---I know now---I loved him. And how I wish he could come sweep me off my feet (though I weigh 40 more pounds than I used to)---he could swing me around---anything, anything----how I wish he could just take me away, right now. Once I was really worried about something, and he said, "Uh, Cindy, I don't even know about that..." See, he knew my name. He knew my name, and if I was what he said, he wouldn't have known my name.

Oh---God----I ask. I ask.

To see him now and to not have the things be the way they are or I think they are---for everything to be made right. Oh God. It's my time. It is so my time.

To have told him I loved him

I wish I would have told him I loved him. I wish I could say now, "I loved you." How I wish---God, how I wish. I loved him.

Just to say it---when he said what he saing should have said, "But I love you." Oh, GOD----I'm going through hell---my house is junked up, people say it smells and I can't tell, and I depleated my savings because of my pursuit of education. And, I am starting to work at a place where I don't feel I belong at all.

I actually have a meeting at a charter school Thursday--was supposed to be today but I changed it--and I think they want me to teach computer technology and Physical Education---both which I know nothing about---I know how to use the internet and I know MS Word, with some powerpoint.

I'd do it though. I want to be in a school so badly---I could have them do aerobics by video and teach them what little I know about the computer. I could teach typing.

I digressed from my title---How I wish he could be my soft place to fall right now. He always was my soft place to fall. He had the kindest voice and the kindest eyes and the most empathy I've ever known in a person. So much empathy---and see, that's why it never made sense, what he said. That's why, it never, ever made sense.

Oh God---let me have my heart wish.

Cindy

crossing a line

I feel like crossing a line.

I just feel like crossing a line. I did something in the spring, and I was cautious as possible about doing it---I wasn't going to show all my cards---I'm glad I didn't. I'm thankful I didn't.

I always wanted to talk to "Josh's" mom. I wish I could send her the link to this blog. The link and that's all---nothing else---no return address---Wish I could. I wish he knew things about what's going on in this world of mine, and if he knew, I wish he would care. If nothing else---but then, that would be the real "Josh," and the real "Josh" seemed to disappear.

Just wish I could cross that line.

Moving and a poem

They didn't get it all moved. They're coming back Monday.

I really need something to change. Really need a heart wish to come true. A heart wish.

Really need a heart wish.

One of those wishes is to be able to be "real" with someone and actually have that person be "real" with me. Realness---I need realness.

How I need realness---but I may not ever get it in the way I want.

Yes, I want a movie made---want a movie made but other than that, I need realness.

There's something that so needs to be addressed, but it may never be.

It's old---I found it in the garage.

I'm just going through hell.

"Do I sit here
and suffer
and think
and endure
and imagine
and fantasize
and hope
and feel
and crave
and yearn
and hold out

in private pain?

While you
Have your life
In place
Where you found
Some type of grace?

What a juxtaposition
You and Me--You in your wonderful life, and me, the life I live in silence.

Losing it and a heart as big as the world

I'm losing it. I really am. I'm losing it.

I think it could be said, too, I have a heart as big as the world. I think it could be said.

I do everything I do for love. I do it all for love.

I am going to have to take the cats to my cousin's place in Louisville and drop them off there, in her yard. I know she can probably find places for them, better than I can. I hate to do it but people I know and love are complaining about my house. I try not to bring up the factor they are complaining about---I dance around it---no, I run around it. I'm not even going to directly address it.

I just did something for love---as I said, I do it all for love.

Thank Goodness she just lives in Louisville, 2.5 hours away.

I have a big heart. I really do.

Cindy

Dear Tom, (Hanks)

Dear Tom,

I have a favor to ask of you. I have a big, huge favor. I need a movie made, about my mother, who was a teacher and taught for 25 years. She was an awesome, amazing, wonderful, inspiring teacher, but in the middle of her 25th year of teaching, she was fired on grounds of incompetence. But, she wasn't incompetent. Far from it. As I said, she was awesome, amazing, wonderful and inspiring. Absolutely inspiring. An inspiring teacher and an inspiring woman and mother.

She was unique. Very unique. She was about 5'4'' in heels and was from Kentucky. There was a lot of Indian ancestory. Her hair was dark brown and her eyes were a yellowish/chestnutish color. Yellow around the pupil. I used to sit and look at her eyes and try to memorize what they looked like. When she laughed or smiled, she could light up the world.

She was also educated. Very, very educated. She could have had a Ph.D. She taught science and biology. She loved the field of science and she was a master at teaching it. One person said it was like she was doing a demonstration speech when she taught.

When I was in high school, I saw people on a stage, and I saw them bringing honor to her. I felt in my heart that one day that would happen.

She died from colon cancer when I was 19 and it was discovered through emergency measures when I was 16. The guy that should be in the movie, or portrayed, "Josh," said once, "She must fought hard," and she did. She did fight hard. She fought for me. She lived for me and she fought for me. ( my father died before I was born)

I wrote a book about all this, to the best of my ability---tough subject matter and many detailed details that I did leave out---back in 1998-2001. I wrote it to deal with what happened with "Josh" in real life, and also to create a memory bank of my mother and her life/our life. There is an element of fiction that runs through the book but there is also an element of truth. There is much truth that runs through it also.

Honestly, I'm ashamed of the book---I shouldn't say that, I know---but it needs overhauling. It needs an overhaul. There's a lot that was left out and there was a lot that a novice writer was writing back then. ( and I'm still a bit of a novice )

I went into education, knowing what happened to my mother, after having been set against it, for years. Education has been in my blood, though. It's in me and all about me. I have been unemployed, though, for most of the time I've been purusing it. I started my training in 2001 and have been on over 10 interviews (Over 10). I've interviewed with at least 2 of the same places about 4 times. I have substituted (filled in for teachers) in an attempt to "get in" with the school to no avail. I was once in a situation that was totally against my conscience, also, while substituting. I worked in a wonderful place for three years as a Learning Disabilities tutor (my field is special education) and the position was eliminated in June of 2007. I have again, interviewed, interviewed, interviewed, to no avail. I depleted my savings, and am trying to work in a job that could be lucritive but do not feel I belong. Things are rough at ________, ________, OH. (my address) I'm moving my aunt (my mom's sister) in my house to help pay expenses. I have a little house.

This would be a good time for me to start the making of the movie, but I know it's not that simple. It's not that simple.

But, my mother led an extraordinary life--an extra-ordinary life. There's more to it than her being "put out" from teaching---she always said, "put out." She didn't work a job after that and we were never on public assistance. And there's more about her, after that. If you and Stephen Speilberg could work on this, I would be so, so, so, so grateful. So grateful.

I would like you to play the mean-ish assist. principal and George Clooney to play the really mean Superintendent. You would be SUPERB. ABSOLUTELY SUPERB at playing this guy. I would like Charlie Sheen to play the nice Assist. Superintendent, and a few other people to play a few other people.

Much Appreciation in Advance,

Cindy Taylor

Something

I know this may not be understandable---but in that time from August till late May, I felt "at home" with "Josh." Hadn't seen him, but I can't really explain all that was going on. I felt safe and secure. In some way, I thought he was "around." I just couldn't see him. I felt he truly loved me. I know, I know how this/that must sound. I know. I just felt like some how, I was going to see him, and he wouldn't be married and he would be with me. I know---I can't explain a lot more. That period was the weirdest thing in the whole wide world, and somehow I made myself pick up real life in June. I haven't been living real life for very long and I'm trying with all my might and strength to be a productive person.

I'm tempted to feel that way again, but I won't. I know this time, that feeling has no sense of reality. I know there is no sense of reality to it---how it would be nice but it's not real. I'm out in the world, feeling alone but I know there are people that care.

I don't want to be "piled up" with my aunt forever---I want money. I want lots and lots of money and I want a new house and I want her to have a house. She hated leaving her house in Louisville and I want her to have a house, except be in this area. I want everything to be Ok. I just do. I can't help it. I want to find a man who "gets me." "Josh" got me for awhile. He "got me." He so "got me," and I want to be "gotten" again.

Cindy

The "Outs" person

I don't know if this makes any sense, but I am so the "Outs" person. I am having such a hard time accepting this time in my life, and what everything is coming down to----I'm trying to get stuff out of my bedroom and my back bedroom so my aunt can move in, so I can keep up with things---I don't feel I belong anywhere.



I haven't talked about the new job yesterday, yet--I have a lot written down--but for the moment, I'll just say I don't feel I belong there. I don't feel like I belong, not at all.



I want to make money. I want more money than ever.


A school called me yesterday---a charter school---and it seems they want me to do something with technology and physical education, though I have no classes in those areas.



I have an interview with them today at 4:00. Not sure how or where I'll be able to get ready if people are in and out of my house. I need to meet with them, though. I really do as My aunt is supposed to be moving in today---Mrs. E found some people to help that happen, and I am so, so, so unprepared. So unprepared. I can't see this happening. I can't see it.



My house is So, So, So junked up right now. So junked up. If things were being moved out just for my own personal space, that would be fine. Fine, but moving someone else in and at the moment--I haven't moved my stuff that needs to be moved for her to move in. I feel like a total "nin-com-poop." Total. I took today off from the new job so I could be here for all the moving in and moving out. Things are so not ready.


Things are so not ready and as I try to take care of the garage (where the cats have had their home), I so dislike my cousin. I so dislike my cousin, for leaving them. I so dislike her. I have a good heart, and I've paid dearly for it. I think she said she had found a place for them but I'm not sure why she didn't tell her husband, whom she left also---Not sure if anyone read, but my cousin worked in a vets office and collected cats. I always wondered what would happen if she had to get rid of them---I didn't see myself taking them, but---she left her husband and the cats and a dog and I told her husband I'd take them till he recovered from her leaving. He said Ok--it was understood on my part that he'd take them back---well, 3 years later, and no. He denies it. He said he didn't agree to it. I didn't think I'd have to make him sign a contract at the time.

I would like to get rid of them--I had cats of my own--a few of them--they do make life troubling at times.

I have a good heart and I pay for it all the time.

Well, I must get things ready as much more as possible if I can.

I haven't written about the new job, but I have a lot to say about it. Namely, first---Why can't I do something where I don't have to watch videos beforehand? I didn't feel right there. And that's all I'll say at the moment.

Cindy

Yesterday at the Fair

As far as I know, yesterday was my last day with the bathtub. The ad company doesn't want me working with anyone else besides them. I start at the ad company today.

I was at a county fair close to where "Josh" is from, from what I can surmize. I have a 99.9% belief that his parents live in the very same vicinity, and I believe I passed the road on which they live. If I could just "cut and paste" things from August till May, I would be so ultimately happy.

Being at the fair was difficult. Being at all of the fairs was difficult because of Fairs being a "people with people place," but this was the most difficult. I wondered if his parents were walking past me and the bathtub a couple of times. There is a mystery that will never be solved, at least to my satisfaction.

I was sleepy, and I wished I could go to his parents house when I left there, and take a nap. How I wished this job with the bathtub was just "extra" money and something to get me out of the house, because "Josh" would have a good job and I wouldn't have to be working.

The song by Garth Brooks, "That Ol' Wind" came to mind, and I saw "Josh" as the singer talked about in the song. I'm not sure where the "kid" fit into it, but "Josh" could sing. How he could sing. How he could sing and play the guitar.

When I worked at the mall with the bathtub, I have been stationed between the Franklin Covey store and a Lane Bryant store. There's a guy that works in the Franklin Covey store that looks like a guy I dated. In the book, the guy is "Chris." I've been slightly interested in the guy that works at Franklin Covey. I've had a feeling he's some years younger than me, and the Franklin Covey store has been a quick escape from the absolute boredom of sitting there and watching people go by. I wondered if I went out with him if it would turn out better than things did with "Chris." Well, I wanted to know how old the guy is, so I said, "How long have you had your philosophy degree?" (I found out he has a degree in philosophy. I guessed English and he said it was philosophy.) He said 2 years. So, by the looks of him, he would be 25. If I had said, "Oh, there's just 9 years between us," he would have thought I was interested or had taken a step beyond him standing in the Franklin Covey store and me sitting out in the middle of the mall with a bathtub.

That's what "Josh" said one time, except it was, "Oh, there's just 5 years between us." Not long after that, I had to try my initial "getting over him," because he threw me a sharp curve ball. I won't say what it was (it's in the book), but he threw me a sharp curve ball. I didn't see it coming.

And I start the new job today. I was going to say something about it but I don't feel like it at the moment. My aunt is also moving in tomorrow and I won't say a lot about that either, at the moment.

How sometimes, I just want to "find him" and ask how he could do it. I just want to "find him," the man that treated me with such kindness, and then slapped me in the face. I have had to think about calling a friend and having myself talked out of calling him recently, as I passed the exit where he lives. I have had to pretend there's a shield between my hands and the phone.

It wakes me up in the morning sometimes.

He was my softest place to fall, my softest place to fall, and then that rug was pulled out from under me.

I never, never, never, ever, got over being treated with such kindess and then being slapped in the face. Not literally was I slapped in the face but pretty darn near close to it.

Never gotten over it. If that makes me a "sore" loser, it makes me a "sore" loser. If it makes me lesser because I never "actualized it" in a way, it makes me "unactualized." If it makes me lesser of something in any way, it makes me lesser than something. I can't help it. There's something here that can not be bridged.

If there were words that I spoke that had anything to do with the way history progressed, if I could take them back, oh I would. Oh I would. To be where his wife is, today---I would. Oh I would---(the time is somehow wrong at the end of these posts)---at 5:32 am, August 19, I would.

Time does go on, but the things that happen in time remain.

Now, I don't want to seem all negative. There are things that people can put in the past and move on from, but the things that involve other people, in this way, like between "Josh" and me, are astronomical to move on from. Some things are just astronomical. It was easier to get over my mom dying, because I could see a physical sense to it. I didn't want her to live, hooked up to an IV forever. I didn't want her looking weak, forever. I could make sense of what happened, but this other thing--no. No.

Oh well, I will end this here.

Cindy

The Shampoo I Used

I am afraid if I don't write about this now, I won't.

There was a shampoo I used that spring-summer of 1994. It was from Revlon, and it had a particular scent. It had a particular scent and the hospital had a particlar scent. They were Good scents---really, very good scents but they would intermingle with the time and the mood, of trying to remain positive in spite of my mother's imminent death. She was still sitting up and talking and moving about as much as she could with the IV thing---She was still sitting Up, straight, and I'd go to the hospital every day.

I will always remember those two scents.

And to think back, when I "knew" "Josh"---my ability to say I knew him has been forever and irrevocably altered---it was amazing I could do what I did. It was amazing I could look around and outside of what I had been through a few years before---there was the guy that we maybe, perhaps, had our future changed because of---but he was not the love of my life. If I say "Josh" was the love of my life, I'd be perhaps cheating myself---but I felt he "got me." He "Got Me." HE "GOT ME," for a time, and all I want and have ever wanted was to be "gotten," by a man.

I never really lost the ability to have a "Crush" on a guy or think about a guy after my mom died. I met the guy that I said I thought was the "love of my life," right after my mom died, and when I met "Josh," the thought of the other guy flew out the window. The thought of him just Flew Out The Window, when "Josh" walked in.

I am going to meet a dear friend who put the one and only reply post that I know of on here in a few minutes. I need to get ready and actually put on some make up. I only wear make up because I have to--thinking people will be more apt to stop and ask about the bathtub, when I sit with the bathtub. BUT, I do not know how to reconcile "Josh." I do not know. I can see him, in my mind, with his wife and kids. I see him like that. A seperate person who denied me an existence. I see that. Sometimes when I wake up in the mornings. I see it. My heart knows it but doesn't yet want to. It does. No doubt. But a part of me doesn't want to. It wants to believe what it believed for some time, not too long ago.

Oh God---and I almost wanted to make that a little G---Oh God---make something right. Make something right.

Cindy

Reply from the man my mom almost married

I had sent an email to the man my mom almost married. He is from Inida. My grandmother and mom's family disapproved of the union because he was from India and had dark skin. She sent the ring back to him. He had let her drive his car from Lexington, KY, to the place where I live and she worked for some years and was deemed "incompetent." He treated her well. He respected her. I told him who I was and that I wanted to make a movie about her life.

I had told him she was a good teacher and he agreed. He remembered her getting the job here and knowing her. He said, though that time passes on and to look to the future instead of the past.

That is the way some people look at it. It is the way some people do look at it.

Cindy

The Ad job and man my mom almost married

I decided to take the Ad job with the coupon book publication. It sounds fun. I think I could do it, and I NEED to do SOMETHING.

I NEED to DO SOMETHING!!!!

I start Monday. It's full time. There's a "draw" and commission.

I just emailed the man my mom almost married. She almost married a professor from a major univeristy in another nearby state. But, my grandmother and aunt objected because he was from India. This was 1959. I wanted to tell him I wish she would have married him and that he treated her the way she needed to be treated. Maybe I should say, he gave her the life she needed. He did, give her the life she needed, and she mailed the ring back from this town, where I live. She was afraid of losing her family. My grandmother said she would dis-own her if she married him. I was thinking, in the movie, it would be diffiucult to find an actor from India, but we need to try to find one.

He had an article in World Book Encyclopedia and my mother pointed it out to me, only a couple times. If it were me, I would have pointed it out on a monthly basis.

He was/is a geology or geography professor. He would be good for research on the movie, probably, also.

I'm going to post a letter to Tom Hanks, here, on this blog, I think. I'm all into George Clooney doing this and playing the Superintendent but for some reason, I am calling out to Tom at this time.

Cindy

And, today, worth reading

I didn't' have to go to McDs today. I called and they said I wasn't on the schedule.

I hate waking up or rather I should maybe say, I hate how it feels to wake up. I wonder, after I awake, I wonder, wonder if I will ever have a fulfillment. I wonder if I will have an income. I wonder if I will do anything fulfilling to have an income.

I hate the way I feel.

I have an interview with a coupon book publisher. I can't imagine doing that the rest of my life. I can't imagine. Actaully, thinking about it now, is reminiscent of that feeling I got of reading that manual at another interview--if eating, it would be sawdust. That's how I feel about it right now.

A preschool ( I believe it's a preschool) called today for me to interview. It's in the same town where "Josh" lives--I have wondered if maybe his kids go there and how that would be if they did or they started and I worked there. It hurts most all of the time I go to or pass that town. And I never forget how long ago it was. I never forget the time. Some part of this hurt has to do with me not "calling him" on what he said--not correcting him. Just standing there, and taking what he said and walking away.

I know my heart shouldn't hurt because of that, along with everything else, but it is, and I have a beautiful dog who is lying beside me and just rested her front paw on my foot.

How I don't understand anything that is happening or has just about ever happened in my life. How I don't understand---so many things I have " awakened" to or from in the past months. So many things to be awakened to--

I toss around the movie idea in my head, about my mom and the life---her life, our life, my life--I toss it around. Good idea, movie that wouldn't go over? Would people tell me, "Cindy, your mother was beautiful and led an amazing life but you need to let go of the things that happened. You just need to forgive and let it all go." Well, forgive on that---forgive on it. I live in the same town and have lived in the same town my whole life. I sat behind one of the "players" at a church and her brother in law owns the house next door to me. He's been very nice to fix things around my house (siding that had incessently fallen off). Very nice man. I think he was on the school board when my mom was "put out," and they knew each other. I have never brought up or conftronted anyone with what they did. I never do. I never do confront anyone with what they do. Nope. But forgive. Forgive---I lived over it, for years. Lived OVER everything. I just live Over stuff.

Movie---she's worthy of it. She is. People have had movies made about them before. This is a little different. There's a weave of fiction in it. ( If Josh and Leslie are included ) I've been wondering how to get it all in, in 2.5 hours. Story of amazing woman with a girl gets a guy theme. Would that go over? Would that go?

I wonder, and I sit here---feeling miserable. And I know, Mrs. E wants me to be happy. I watched this thing on ABC last night about medical mysteries or rarities. There was a man in Indonesia who had a horrid condition---that's all I'm going to say---it's gross what was going on with him---but I looked at the setting and looked at him and I tried to think, "Oh, things aren't so bad for me." I tried. I am trying to see I'll get through this.

I guess in my unemployed educational state, I shouldn't be looking at my mom's stuff, the papers, which look to be a study guide. One girl only got 23 of the 38 problems done, and she said at the top, "I tried, I worked hard." On the back of those papers which look to be study guides, there is this: ATOMIC BOMB, as a title.

1. The first atomic bomb exploded in 1945.
2. It changed the warfare for the future.
3. Old weapons were outdated.
4. Destruction destroys buildings far away.
5. Much heat is produced.
6. Radiation spreads out in all directions.
7. August 6, 1945 92,000 people were killed or missing.
8. August 9, 1945, 40,000 more were killed in equal amounts or missing.
9. World War II ended quickly
10. SALT--Strategic Arms Limitation Talks
11. concernig agreements from nuclear weapons.

SALT--she loved nonsense phrases or statements, acronyms. She always used them to help me remember things.

I think she was the best science teacher the district ever had. I think she was. I think she was.
She had a profound respect for history and I'm sure she brought that in as an enhancement to talking about nuclear energy. And she was incompetent. If they had only let her teach and supported her in difficult situations. If Only.

So tired about my life being about the If''s. So tired of it. "If only I had said," or "If only I hadn't said," or "If only she had had a colonoscopy," If----I so need some things, and how to get them, I do not know. I do not know.

Credit card companies are ringing the phone off the hook and I'm sitting here---looking at a student Science Report. This girl said she worked hard but forgot newspaper articles. My mom wrote, "ok," I think. The girl got a 115. It looks more like "On" 115. I'm hoping there was extra credit and the points were out of 100. At the top right hand corner it says, "Mrs. Taylor's class."

I found the Motherless Daughters book, by Hope Edelman. Her mother did die, July 12, but in year of 1981. She says, "I would like this to be a book about living. Even so, it begins with a death, my mother's, on July 12, 1981." I bawled when I read that, the first time, several weeks after my mom died. The next sentence is, "It had been sixteen months since the afternoon she returned from the doctor's office with the news of a malignancy in her breast, sixteen months of chemotherapy and CAT scancs and desperate attempts to hang on to the little rituals that amounted to a normal day." Yes. That is how it was with us, too. She was 17 when her mom died.

I may go back and forth between "mom" and "mother." Both words refer to the same woman--just because of formality or informality, I suppose.

I called her "mom."

I have two wonderful dogs here, taking an early afternoon nap. How I wish I could sleep as sweetly.

Someone, somewhere, help me get to a destination with this. Let all this be for a reason. God, let me find the reason.

Cindy