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

Today and interviews

I didn't go to the Corporation interview. I read some opinions about the interview process and company in general, and I wasn't impressed. I've been feeling too stupid to pass their second test. They didn't tell me yet if I passed the first one.

I have two interviews with Walmart. Both in different locations and different positions.

Mrs. E helped me move junk out of my garage.

I'm scheduled for like 3 hours at McDs tomorrow but I have an interview with a Coupon ad magazine at the same time. I'm going to do something about having to be there at McDs at that time. This Coupon ad magazine would pay a base. I just hope I could go out there and bring in more ads. My self-esteem is in the trash can. I don't know what way to go---Substitute, get more days in toward the retirement account and work at Walmart and the Bathtub company or do something full time, get some insurance and hopefully make more money than ever before?

I don't know---I just, just, just don't know. I love education. I Love it, and to not be in it, is a Loss. It is a major loss. I hope people see I have my mother in me.

I found some papers I had put away the last time I re-did things in my house. They're papers that my mom gave out and collected from the kids and I guess was never able to give them back since she was fired in the middle of the year. I guess they are papers she was never able to give back to them. It broke my heart. I was holding a paper and said to Mrs. E, "This is who my mother was." I almost cried. One kid wrote at the bottom of the paper, "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Taylor." I guess that was a good kid. My mom was "put out," Jan. 8th, I believe. So, she probably didn't get those papers back. It warms me on the inside, in a way, when I see the questions on those papers, the thought, the same stuff I was questioned over in my school time, that she gave out also. I loved the way her stuff sounded and looked. I loved the way she did things. It makes me so incredibly, incredibly, incredibly sad,, though. A career and a life taken too soon. Taken too soon. Both, taken too soon.

I may be writing to Tom Hanks. I haven't written to him yet. George Clooney should have a copy of the DVD somewhere. I sent it to his Production Company, Smokehouse Productions. I'm not sending Tom Hanks a DVD, though I probably should. It's difficult to not know if anything you do is receieved or how it is received. Charlie Sheen or someome in his group sent a pic to me---He has a copy of the DVD.

How I need something to be done about this---putting my mother's life into form. I don't care if "Leslie" and "Josh" are taken out of the story. I just want her side to be known, and for people to know the travesty it was for her to be fired. Fired. On grounds of incompetence. How wrong it was. I want people to know.

TOM HANKS---you are awesome---If you direct, I think I'd like you to direct this. Steven Speilberg is invited also---I want people to want to do this. My mother was amazing. Beautiful in her own way. Very unique looking and acting woman. Unique. Loved her daughter. Loved the field of science. Loved teaching. While she loved, she was in motion, though. She was in motion. She was about doing. TOM HANKS---look into this. I beg of you and everyone and anyone---take part in this for me and for my mother. ( She liked Sleepless in Seattle )

She really liked Tom Cruise, too.

She loved Richard Gere. Loved Pretty Woman. Loved Julia Roberts.

She loved a good movie.

We went to see Home Alone either the day before or the day of her telling me she was having pain in her abdominal area. She said she hadn't wanted to tell me and didn't want to worry me but she was having pain there--and the Gulf War was ensueing, and my grandmother (her mother) was dying in Tennessee. There was a lot going on at one time. The family doctor took a good long time to figure out what was wrong, and when it was discovered, it was before an emergency situation. They figured out she had a blockage. My grandmother had just died that day, and my mother threw up every 2 and 1/2 hours, like clockwork that night. I knew when I would hear that awful sound---like clockwork. I'm not sure how the body can do that but it does. She was supposed to call the surgeon the next day but I called in the midst her throwing up, as early as they would take the call at the surgeon's office. They said to go to the ER, and they could barely stop her from vomiting. She had surgery that evening, and when the Dr. came out, he said, "I got it all." He got it all---music to my ears. I thought that meant everything was ok and going to be ok. I was 16.

Oh well---I didn't plan on getting off on that tangent. But my world was shattered. My safety and security and confidence was shattered. She supposedly had a sigmoidscopy months before.

Something needs to be done. Something needs to be done. Someone (Ellen) hear me. Her life needs honor.

Cindy Taylor

I want to be a writer. I want to be a writer. If I can't be in a school system, I want to write.

I am going through things to put up in the attic so my aunt can move in, and I was taking some books out of a cabinet. I almost became emotional. So many of those books from such a good, protected time. When my mother held me, she held me with love and as a fortress. Everything I did, and in all I knew, she protected me from the realistic tragedies of life. I was just a blond headed, blue-eyed, little girl who knew no wrong about life, except that my daddy--father--died before I was born. I was ever aware of it and couldn't understand it. I knew that his sisters were my aunts and they were so fun.

I knew my mom (mommy) was a teacher, and it was the coolest thing. It was so cool that my mom was a teacher. I loved to brag about it.

And while she held me, protected me, lived with me, took care of me, she went through a hell I have some what known---not knowing what's going to happen with your career. She shielded me from everything.

I found a book I thought I had lost---Minnie the Moo. There were several OLD, OLD, OLD books she had for me, and one was called Minnie the Moo. It was about a milking cow, and it had a calf. The calf wanted some milk, and it said basically, "Milk, Milk, Milk--that's all anyone ever wants of me." She didn't seem to want to give her baby some milk and that always made me sad. In the end, she gave her baby some milk.

I didn't find Robert The Rose Horse, though. Love Robert the Rose Horse. Robert is a horse and allergic to roses. Everywhere he goes, he runs into someone who has roses and he SNEEZES the biggest SNEEZES. Everything goes flying when he sneezes.

I felt like something on the bottom of shoes for where I am in consideration from where I started. I think that's what made me almost emotional.

I want to be a writer, but I'm left with the same questions---what and how?

I have been trying to get in touch with my former assist. principal to see if he still believed in what he said in that beautiful recommendation letter. I had called and the secretary said he said to send him an email and he'd reply. Well, I did so and asked if he still could stand on what he said, and he SAID he DID. He still stands on it. Wow. Wow. Wow. Wow. I was worried about how I may have acted or things I did from August of last year to May of this year. He still stands on that letter. Ellen needs to call him and ask him about me.

He said he hoped things picked up for me and wished me the best in whatever I did.

And I want to be a writer.

A writer.

I'm good at writing about myself but there's not a lot good going on here. And I don't know why people would want to know about me. I'm trying to get some positive attention, to get a movie made about my mom (and me).

While I was pulling books out of this cabinet, I thought about "Josh." He crossed my mind. If he had been a better man, he would have been there with me, going through those things. If he were a better man. I am not sure if I will ever stop wondering about him--in entirety. Entirety.
There's a world about him I don't get. I've never been able to reconcile something where he is concerned. I can't understand how God would create a man who would be so much a hypocrite and turn in such an opposite direction as he had been. I've not been able to reconcile that he is a living being, a human, who could do what he did and say what he did. How is he a person and how does he exist--some might say, live with himself?

I wish I could just touch him for the sheer realization that he is human.

Anyway, I want to be a writer. And I want to write what I feel, and I would like to be paid for it.

And I want to get a national Colonoscoy day planned. Everyone go get a Colonoscopy. Maybe it's already been done, but we need to do it again.

Cindy

last night and my post

I wrote out a post yesterday but when I hit "Publish" the internet blocked out.

Basically, I can't remember what I said and I knew that I wouldn't be able to get it all back when that happened.

Something to do with being at the County fair of the county where I used to work, for 3 years, for the bathtub remodeling company. I thought about and wondered if the student who raised rabbits would be there and if I'd run into him. Traveled the same stretch of highway I used to for 3 years. It never seemed like that far away and I always marvled that it never seemed that far away, though it was 50 miles half a trip.

I had a job interview for a high school Intervention Specialist position (my field, special education teacher) today. I know I didn't come close to getting it. I didn't know what a functional behavior assessment was (heard of it, haven't done one, or heard of it recently; college class days) and I couldn't state anything much about OGT benchmarks. I just know that we tried to prepare the kids at the Junior High every day for that test, in the future--that everything we did was to prepare them for the tests. I know we used the Content Standards books (and I forgot the name, Content Standard books; I said we used "the books."). It was going to be a resource room (terminology those not acquainted with education may not know) position. I would mainly be working with a group of kids, on my own, instead of with the kids who have LDs and general population. Inclusion is when you work with kids and the general education teacher, together and everyone is all together. Resource rooms set kids who have LD with each other and the teacher. I like inclusion.

I would have taken it though.

I am getting set up to Sub. (Substitute--fill in for teachers who are out a day)

I do not know why this is happening. I do not know. I just do not know. I need sense. I need sense about things, and if it could be seen, this didn't happen and that didn't happen for THIS to happen, I'd be happy. I'd be good. It would all be good, but I Can't see anything right now.

They asked what set me apart from everyone, and I said, "Perseverence." I was able to elaborate on that, quite a bit. Quite a bit.

Yep, quite a bit.

I'm all about perseverence. I explained how I have had to persevere to be in this field and then I said that when the doctor said my mother's 25 lb tumor (was really more than 25 lbs--it tipped the scale) was inoperable, I had to ask the doctor if it could actually be removed.

Just in case one may not know about my perseverence to get into the educational field--was told in 2001 I would always have a job and could always get a job but after several interviews got one but didn't enjoy the Place---went out looking again, couldn't get hired for 2 years---had my teaching test miscored being one of 1500 or 2000 that got a false fail--took the test 3 times and passed TWICE---then, when I did get a job it was in 2003 and it was eliminated in 2007, and I've done nothing but interview, interview, interview, interview, and I was there, interviewing, again, today.

That is all I know how to do and do well. Persevere.

I hope there is a reason. As I've said, I have a voice. I have a mind. I have a heart. And I have a soul. What to do and where to go?

Cindy

"Josh" and Craigslist

I put up another post on Craigslist. It was about "Josh." Nothing extremely revealing, but a bit mysterious as someone emailed me and asked what he said and would I like to get some things off my chest.

I kind of like that it has a sense of mystery about it. That's what I want. It will keep people reading, I hope.

I said a couple of things, at two different times, that I feel changed the course of history with "Josh" and me. I know it can't be changed and we can't go back---I know this---so very, very well, yet it doesn't help a lot. I just feel it changed the course of history, but I suppose he's been a very black/white, yes/no, person and if he had been able to talk to me instead of completely pushing me away, he might have really been the right person for me. I knew that he wasn't thinking outside himself when he did a couple of things. I knew that wasn't a great person who could just go on what the other person said without asking questions. I knew that at the time. Yet, at the time, it didn't hurt any less knowing that.

Cindy

Posted on Craigslist

I posted my inquiry on Craigslist.

Ohio--Dayton/Springfield Missed connections

may sound different--what I wrote at the mall, Aug 7

I'm parked between a Fanklin Covey store and a Lane Bryant store, when I work with the bathtub remodeling company.

Again, it's amazing to me how many couples there are in the world. And, the pregnant females (and I say females because they aren't all adults, women).

I can't believe the trend today--the tops that look like maternity tops, but every female is wearing them. I think I even got one myself thinking it would look different on me. They/we all look pregnant. It's like you think, "Ok, is she just pudgy or is she pregnant?"

I saw a nice looking dad with his little girl. The little girl must have been about 2. He was a very proud father. She wanted to sit in a chair and he was so very proud. I wondered where the mom was.

I didn't bring my cell phone in with me tonight. I haven't been sure of the time but it has passed a little more quickly.

I had to take my car into the shop to get it checked out since something has been on my nerves about it for awhile. I was supposed to be at an appointment with a corporation to take a test and see if I'm smart enough or good enough to maybe work there but had to reschedule. There was a slight mis-alignment with the car and was aligned a couple months ago. They didn't charge me for it, and that was a blessing. I got the oil changed which I've been feeling guilty about---it was well over the 3000 mile range.

I have an interview for an Intervention Specialist position Monday morning for a high school position. (my title, Intervention Specialist, new name for Special Education Teacher). I will be a minimalist about the prospect, and that is all I will say. I have an interview.

I used to have a friend who was always holding hands with her boyfriend in public. They held hands tight and walked where they walked. There is a lot of that hand-holding at the mall. Swinging hand holding, hand holding and walking---a lot of it. how nice.

I bought a book the other day. Memory Keeper's Daughter. By Kim Edwards. I shouldn't say this, but my book sucks.

There's a setting of Kentucky in it and I know the places.

I think someone and I caught each other's eyes today. I went to a Subway not the one I can't work at until I find it's the only thing I can do) while my car was being fixed and made eye contact with a guy in Springboro ( my mom never taught in Springboro) at 12:41 pm. It was a bright sunny day. I love the view of clouds and the sky and horizon in this particular area. Love it. It's beautiful. Anyway, he was with a group of guys and one woman. They all looked like engineers. I kept meeting the guy's eye and there was that sparkle in it. He had brownish but maybe hazel eyes. Brownish. not chestnut brown but kind of like my mom's. They started to get up and I asked if they were engineers. They said, "Yeah, how'd you know?" I said I was looking for a job and noticed everyone is an engineer. I think he would have sat down at my table if he hadn't been with them. I thought they were from around here, but they walked out and all of them got into cars from Michigan. I wanted to stop him and say, "I want your number," but I didn't. He looked very intense and almost like he didn't want to be with them. He was quiet. His hair was short and spikey, kind of salt and pepper but more pepper than salt. He and one of the guys got into a burnt orange Pontiac Grand Am.

He could be involved with someone for all I know and she would be shocked to find he was locking eyes with someone.

I looked not my best. I barely had run a brush through my hair, if at all. I just haven't cared about how I"ve looked lately. Just haven't cared.

I'm going to go to Craig's List. Ellen had a couple on her show that met on an airplane and I guess didn't exchange numbers but met that way.

Cindy

Great Quotes

When I sit with the bathtub at the Mall for my bathroom remodeling job, I sit between a Franklin Covey store and a Layne Bryant.

I found these great quotes.

"What would you attmept go do if you knew you could not fail?"--Unknown

I have been feeling like a failure in everything---everything. I would love to get a network marketing product/"down"line going. Make thousands upon thousands a month, and then, oh, my movie---

"Peace. It does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble or hard work. It means to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart."---Unknown

Great thought. Amazing to do.

"Fame is a vapor, popularity an accident. Riches take wings. Only one thing endures and that is character."--Horace Greeley

"Out of clutter, find simplicity. From discord, find harmony. In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity."--Albert Einsteen

True, I hope. I am truly trying to find the opportunity. Truly, trying.

"Faith sees the invisible, believes the incredible and reaches the impossible."--Anonymous

Faith is a struggle now--it never has been before, but is now. I need to reach the impossible.

Cindy

Updates and Rick Springfield

Oh, how I love the Rick Springfield music. "You know I've got my walls. Sally calls them prison cells..." How it's getting me through. Used to be Lionel Ritchie---Dancing on the Ceiling but for some reason I have a hard time listening to him right now---has to do with that time between August and May.

My cousin, "Maggie's" daughter had the Rick album. She used to keep music going ALL the time. 24 hours almost. I'd have to go to sleep to music playing sometimes and wake up to it when I'd visit in KY. I loved the place my mom was from, Harlan. Loved it. Unique, beautiful place.

My Mix 107.7 on my clock radio is being overshadowed by a country station, and I love Mix.

Not sure that the people there understand what is going on--I sent them an email.

I have an interview with a neighboring district Monday. I have several things to insert here or in other places. Things I wrote out on paper while at the Mall for the bathtub remodeling company.

I have a great family for the most part. It's not a lot but I have great people on my dad's side. Great people. I went to visit my aunt Rosie this morning--she's 87, and a cousin was there. He has such a Great sense of humor. He's great. I said I'd be better off to not have a degree and he said, "No you wouldn't. It's something that no one can take from you." That is right. That is right but the things that want you to have a degree anymore aren't worth a lot for the most part. It's all about having the right degree for the right thing. The right degree for the right thing. That's what it's all about.

I have my interview at 10 am Monday. And I'll act like Everything Is Fine, Fine, Fine, Fine, Fine.

Everything is fine.

How horrible it is. Horrible.

I do have about $4,000 in the bank I borrowed off a credit cards and when the money is gone from the credit card, I can only hope to pay it back someday. Someday, I'd like to Overpay all the places I can't pay right now---and them have to give me a check back. Someday.

I've thought about somehow getting a Colonscopy drive going with Tony Snow's family, Katie Couric and Robert Foxworth---like Everyone make an appointment to get a Colonoscopy on a certain day---for the Colonoscopy centers to be flooded with phone calls for an appointment on a certain day. Something to do with Colon Cancer. I've wanted to write to Tony Snow's family. He and my mom died on the same day but years apart. I don't know how to get in touch with people and have anyone pay attention to what I say, though. I sent people info about an educational atrocity involving teachers and No Child Left Behind but heard nothing. Maybe it had to do with the way I was from August till May.

I haven't said alot about "Maggie" but her daughter is the one who left the cats, SkipperKee and her husband and moved in with a guy she knew for five seconds. Her daughter and I were on the "outs" before she left everything (mainly about "Maggie" and where "Maggie" should be living). I have resented her abandoning the cats and dog since she did in 2005. "Maggie" had a stroke or TIAs in 2002. She had a car acciddent first and was at the hospital and sent home in a taxie, not remembering what happened in the car accident. Then friends went to check on her and they found her in a very bad condition. She went back to the hospital, and my cousin and I were on our way to Louisville. She had lain in the ER for over 24 hours with little to no attention. The hospital she was at didn't pick up that she had a stroke. She went in for a long nap, basically.

Well, she can walk but her mental capabilities are not what they used to be and she has become incontinent. She wears protective things but doesn't realize when she has gone. Her, as she calls them "diapers" become full and leak and she has no idea. It's so sad. So sad. I wish so much she was as she was in that video I made before my mom died.

Just thought I'd share---it is ever in my awareness.

But she's hopefully going to be moving in---we can be a help to each other I guess. Mrs. E has been helping me pick up my house and move everyting I can into the attic.

I am going to have to tell about my eyes meeting the eyes of a guy the other day. I think he's from Michigan. I don't know who he is---if it had just been him instead of being with a group, I think he would have joined me at my table at a Subway (not the one I can't work at till Iknow it's all I can do). I'll tell more later. I wrote out things but may have to change the form as I write it in here. There's a totally different "tone" in the paper version.

not much new here

Not much new here.

There's something wrong with my car. And that isn't really new. There's been something wrong with it for a little while. I have to take it to a shop in a few minutes.

I was supposed to have a meeeting with a corporation and take a test for them to see if I could work there---I took a somewhat lengthy test last night. For the most part it was fun. It had a lot of vocabulary and analogies and some actually fun math. Some general knowledge questions. I was supposed to, then, take another test this morning but couldn't because of my car.

I was going to go to a school district and see if I could substitute, also.

I just wrote something negative and cleared it out. Mrs. E is wanting me to be positive. Positive. Positive.

Oh how difficult it is.

I was thinking about the "movie" I want made---I put the word in quotes because it seems like a long shot. There's some things that I don't quite know how to work around unless it's just kind of "smoothed over." My aunt's daughter, "Maggie's" daughter and I have had a rocky relationship all our lives and my mom's parents cared for her a major deal from childhood, on, and then she cared for them as they got older. I think our relationship would just have to be "smoothed over." I shouldn't much more about it.

In a way, I wonder, what's the point when things aren't going to be exactly as they have been in real life. It might be too much work. In the book, I think I say that Maggie and my cousin's father were divorced but that's not as it was---my aunt was never married to the father and my cousin, to this day, doesn't clearly know who her father is--my aunt won't talk about it. My cousin contacted the guy she thought was her father and he said he wasn't.

Not sure if the movie will work, but for my mom's sake, it needs to.

I'm going to be negative here--but I can't help it--I feel like scum on the bottom a trash can. I'm getting calls to pay bills and I can't. I don't even answer. I look at the number and don't even answer.

My aunt says she'll move in but she can't understand she Can't Get All Her Stuff in my house. She can't understand that she can't and she says she won't if she can't have all her stuff.

My uncle (her brother, my mom's brother, the guy Matthew Perry needs to play) has made stipulations on my aunt moving in---that I must get rid of a few cats I have. He also wanted me to get rid of all but one dog. Someone told him the part about the dogs was unrealistic.

How I'm going to get through this and ever make more than $7.00 an hour, I do not know. I do not know. I have tried to think and implore to myself and others, " I have a degree and was a teacher." How can I be destined to live in the same house (which is fine--fine--fine, even if I'm able to live here on the $7.00 for 60 hours a week), run from telephone calls, feel like I'm drowning and never meet a man that "gets" me? HOW could this be my fate? I'm looking around---I'm looking for opportunities. I am looking and it seems that people who get out of these situations always start some kind of business. It seems like it. I don't know how or what kind of business to start.

If someone by the initials PS is reading, keep in touch even though I've been OCD lately, and I have been. I've been so OCD. But, keep in touch---If win the lottery of sorts (and you know a lot about lotteries)--I'm taking you to the Oprah show. Send me your new email address and I promise to have faith that you're reading, here.

I have been thinking about the guy from LifeHouse. Love their music. I've wondered how old he is. I'm gonna look them up.

But I have to go and get this car fixed on borrowed money that I may not be able to pay back anytime soon.

Cindy

On yesterday

I was too tired to write yesterday.

Filled out paperwork at Subway. When the very nice manager gave me the papers I wanted to say, "I've seen these before."

Didn't think it would sound good though---I actually do try to think about what I say sometimes.

There is an opening in a neighboring district. I sent my resume. If I didn't have to be at McDs today (and they'll probably send me home because of overstaffing), I'd go over to that school and drop in on the principal. Some people would skip McDs alltogether, especially since they are quitting, but I won't do that. I refuse to get my hopes up, if I have any hopes anyway.

Mrs. E and I worked on clearing out my back bedroom so there will be room when/if my aunt moves in. Mrs. E strongly believes I should not work at Subway and try to substitute (fill in for teachers) here in a couple weeks when school starts. I have just been afraid I wouldn't be called enough. It's a risk. It's a risk.

In clearing things out, I realize how long ago 1998 was and how in 1998, everything was hopeful and I clearly thought I'd be like the better half of the population.

Back in 1998, laptops looked like skinny boxes. I had a laptop from back then. I also found business cards from when I worked with AFLAC. Business cards as prospects.

Everything in my back bedroom was something in its place. The back bedroom was my "memorabilia" room with a bed in it.

Reba McIntyre sings a song, "I guess the world aint gonna stop, for my broken heart." Can't seem to work in a school full time or be wanted full time and have that "togetherness" feeling going on, let alone the paycheck. I am in utter something that rhymes with bell and the world aint gonna stop for it.

Mrs. E tells me I should be more positive. I will attract positive things if I'm more positive. I'm sorry--I'm very sorry, but it's very difficult. It's very difficult when all you read on job postings or get out of job postings is, "I can't do that, and I can't do that and that's not me." And there isn't a job that says, "Wanted: CINDY TAYLOR" A confidant says that will happen, that there is a job looking for me.

I was at the mall last night with the bathtub (I work part time for a bathtub remodeling company) and I am amazed at all the in love couples in the world. Two or three passed holding hands, and that's excluding the teenagers. Amazed.

I'm also amazed at the couples with kids who aren't married. They look married but when you look at their left hand, 4th finger, there's no ring.

I'm trying to not get irritated that my aunt didn't tell me till now she was moving in---I guess I should have been clearing stuff out for just in case but...

She wants to move her whole apartment in my house and that is like trying to fit 16 oz of something into an 8 0z glass.

This is something that rhymes with bell.

I have to be at McDs at 8 am and it's 7:08 now. I hope somehow the burn on my middle finger doesn't scar but it probably will.

Ellen DeGeneres should have a copy of the video I made of my mom and my emails. I hope it's not like winning the lottery to have people there look at your stuff. I know she's a happy, upbeat person and I know I'm not the like, at the moment, and even if I won the lottery in many ways, I think it would take some time to get over everything I've been through.

My mother said in that video that she wanted me to find something to do that didn't have a lot of stress, that was legal and could make money in life. Oh, where and what is that? She knew the stress of the educational system and I think she may have wanted me to avoid it, but I went full throttle into it anyway.

I have a heart, and mind, and I have a voice. I have a VOICE----just how can I use them? How?

Cindy

On being Happy

I got a pep talk from someone tonight. A former math teacher. There are two former math teachers that have helped me immensely and there is an instructor in the mathematical field that I respect a lot. If I ever win the lottery of sorts and get on Oprah, I'm going to take them with me. I'm going to take a few more people, also. The one person who left a response post is one of those few people. I want the audience filled with people I know and love.

But, see, getting on Oprah is like winning the lottery.

It would be nice to hear I've won the lottery of sorts.

Mrs. E. gave me a pep talk.

She and the other math teacher have wanted me to try to be happy, even though this situation seems endless and hopeless. We had a talk about money and how some people never have it. We talked about options that I have.

It is so difficult though. It is so difficult.

When I told her that I'm 34 and never wanted in this position, or dreamed it, and what I DID dream, she said, "Only 34." "Only 34."

It is so difficult and that's all I can say. When she was telling me these things in a positive way, I wondered, "how?" How? How can I ever get over where I'm at---she talked about positivity, and I felt crummy for being so unpositive. I kept thinking about all the job openings I looked at and how I fit into none of them, really. Really--I mean, Really. There isn't a job description that really fits me outside of what I did for some years.

If I could write like this, live off my own words---wow. It would be great It would be Me. To live off my own words and feelings and thoughts.

But, that isn't out there. There's not the job listing, "Wanted: Cindy to write whatever she wants." That isn't out there, and it's not out there for her to tell her mother's story along with her own either.

It just isn't.

I lost a huge part of myself over this past year and especially now. Huge part of myself. Lost it. Lost it.

My house is small and my aunt wants to move all of her stuff in it, if she moves in. She says she's going to now and I shouldn't be irritated by it, but she did what she said and she said she'd tell me in August---which gives me little time to clear out my little house as much as possible.

I crave everything I don't have right now---crave a new house, a feeling of security when I go to sleep and wake up, a man---yes, a man who would "get" me, and peace. I have thought about God---I really have. I know I'm supposed to have faith, and my mother lived it and breathed it. Faith. I am sorry if I don't have it or enough of it. I know miraculous things happen when people have faith, but I know I don't have it, or enough of it. I know.

How it destroys me that my mom's life was about her love of the field of science and teaching it, and had to leave it, and I am having such a similar problem. I wanted to be like her in a way. I knew I couldn't be her, but how I wanted to walk in her good footsteps. How I wanted that and can't now.

Beautiful woman she was.

Cindy

My Letters of Recommendation

My own Rec. Letters,
___________________________________________________________________
To: Whom it May Concern
From: my former Assist. Principal
Date: April 18, 2007

I am writing to you to recommend that you consider Cindy Taylor for any Intervention Specialist positions you may have available. Ms. Taylor has worked for us for three years, and has proven herself to be a positive member of our faculty.

Ms. Taylor has served as an LD Tutor in her time her at ( the school ). She typically works individually with students to help them achieve the goals set forth on their IEP. Ms. Taylor is very diligent about communicating with the regular classroom education staff regarding her students, and always follows through on any requests with the parents of her students as well, always keeping them informed of their student's progress. Ms. Taylor is an eager learner, constantly seeking out up to date research and best practices, and how they may assist her in her teaching.

In the three years that I have known Ms. Taylor, I have seen her grow and improve as a teacher. She is willing to seek out advice from both administration and vetern teachers. I know that she has a passion for teaching that is deeply rooted. She loves working with children, and always makes decisions based on what is best for them.

Assist. Principal.

________________________________________________________________
(this is from a great co-worker and colleague)

To Whom It May Concern:

I have known and worked with Cindy Taylor for three years at ( name of school ). Cindy was employed by ( an educational service center ) as a tutor. She was responsible for the seventh and eighth grade tutoring students.

During her first year she went through the Pathwise program, in which I was her mentor. She did wonderfully and apssed the Praxis after her first observation in the spring. Cindy worked hard to continually plan creatively positive learning experiences for her students.

During her second year in the ( name of city) system she began going directly into the regular classroom with the students instead of only doing the pull out program, She increased her amount of time in the regular classes this yeawr. She continues to work with the individual students on specific skills during study hall time. Cindy is responsible for her studnet's IEPs and MFE contributions along with parent contacts.

Cindy truly cares for her students making their educational experiences as positive as possible. I have enjoyed working with her through the years. She will be missed greatly as an educator and friend.

If you have any questions, feel free to contact me.

( a dear friend and former collegue)

___________________________________________________________

This is from one of my favorite kids. He made a huge impact on the way I see things and learning disabilities.

To Whom It May Concern:

Ms. Cindy Taylor has been one of the nicest teachers I have ever known.

I'm sure if you accept her to work at your school your students will like her and you won't regret it. She will listen to what the students say and doesn't yell at them in front of everyone and embarrass them when they didn't do their homework.

She does everything she can to help me with things like missing homework. She understands just how hard life can be for someone like me.

( A Great, Immensely Talented Student )
____________________________________________________________________
This is from a genuine person and student. Great and genuine person and student. She is true to herself and she says what she thinks but nicely. She is one of the most polite kids I ever worked with.

To Whom It May Concern,

When I first met Ms. Taylor I thought that she was just another teacher but she spent time learning my name and trying to figure out what I was having trouble in and why.

To understand what I am doing, she goes to class with me and takes notes so when I ask her about my homework she can help me better. Kids need Ms. Taylor because gives kids that need help another way to learn. She explains things better than some teachers I've had. She breaks things down and alwys gives all the kids she helps good reasons as to why something is the way it is.

I am happy every time I go into her class, and to prove she helps, I went from all F's to almost all C's.

( a beautiful person and student )

I must say, she gave me too much credit for the grade increase.

___________________________________________________________________

Those are my letters of recommendation.

I thought I would have had a job by now with them but I don't.