She walks the extra mile to merely glimpse in his eyes – intense, unrevealing, sometimes smiling, always unnerving she tries hard to read – leaving frustrated, refusing to give up. Aggravating passivity moving too slowly – while admiring externally, she longs to make him move. In the same direction, on the same page, effortless chemistry, confounding logistics – languishing in lust, his and her own. Wanton desire, fantasies erotic, bring her to her knees – transform on a whim, darkened room, cumulative heat where shadows loom.

Haunted by memories
Visions…
Images…
Plague the mind
Too many minds
Loss greater than death
Dying a thousand times
Each time I think of you
And remember –

“Nothing is predestined - The obstacles of your past become the gateways that lead to new beginnings.”
~Ralph Blum

This is the last picture we took of Piggy. As sick as she was, she still looked on us with love. She died this evening in her bed, with her family by her side.

Farewell my faithful friend - until we meet again….

#110 – Telephone

Spa day – honeydew facial – new negligee – shook her hair loose then checked herself twice in the mirror, making sure she looked just right. Then she went to him – on his turf, to make her intentions known. Something her therapist advised her to do, in order to get their relationship back in the groove.

Feeling confident and sure, she approached beguilingly – asked what he was doing, batted her eyelashes and smiled. He turned his attention her way, raised his eyebrows and smiled – reached for another boiled peanut, eyes drifting back to the race. Crushed, but refusing to let her feelings be known, she turned and walked to the bar – poured herself a Coke, then retreated to her own domain, grabbing her robe along the way.

She closed the door and dialed the number, feeling nervous as she listened to the ring. His tone was one of happiness when he recognized her voice. So glad to hear from her, having missed her – assuring her that no matter what the trouble, he was there to make everything right.

“Shall I place the charge on the credit card we have on file,” he asked – as she reached over and turned off the light – always hating this part before the illusion began.

The seasons of our lives are well defined – born into winter we grow into spring – flourish in summer – mature in autumn – only to return full circle to winter – where we wind down and vanish.

I am autumn’s child
I do not like it
Much
Leveling off
Maturing
Feeling like summer
Longing for
Spring

Surrounded by people
All telling me
Different things
Taking everything
They can from
Me

Places to go
Things to see
Opportunities knocking
Too many
Missed
Felling suffocated
Never so
Alone

Like the raindrop
On my
Windshield
Unmoving – unyielding
No matter
How fast I
Travel

Why does it only
Stay in one
Place
To be dried
Up
Burned alive
By the
Suns striking
Rays

I hear the
Griffin calling
From which way
I do not
Know
I no longer feel
Fear inside
Perhaps at this
Moment
I’m ready to
Go –

That is most certainly the question I’ve been asking for several days now.

Having troubles with the WordPress.org site and wondering if it’s really worth the hastle - not to mention that most of you seem to still be coming here. Will keep you posted as the bugs are located and destroyed or worked around.

Hopefully life will settle and I can get back to writing. My mind is overflowing and needs a good purge.

Have a great weekend!

Peace…

She’s back home – and NOT in a box!!

Took her to our regular vet, who was very familiar with the vet who saw her yesterday, and Byron was right on the money when he referred to him as a, German spandex wearing, bicycle riding, Saab driving, money grubbing mother fucker!

Several of the things he told me were flat out lies. Dr. Langford said he was expecting a very sick Sadie and was pleasantly surprised to see her condition. She does have heartworm disease, but does not need to be hospitalized and undergo the very extreme and very expensive treatments the other vet wanted to immediately start. She’s taking a diuretic to get rid of the fluid and an antibiotic and once the fluid starts going away, she regains her appetite and is feeling better overall we’ll start with the shots to kill and rid her of the heartworms. He doesn’t think there’s any reason why the treatment won’t be successful.

So, I’m pissed off that the shyster vet put us through that shit and charged $523 for it, but elated that our vet had very positive news, spent well over an hour talking with us about the disease and treatment, sent us home with meds and SADIE, and only charged $65.

I realize she is nowhere near out of the woods and we still have a long way to go, but I am SO relieved and feeling very, very positive.

Thank you all for your words of support, concern and understanding. I appreciate it more than you know…

Peace

It’s a sad day in the Terry household. Took Sadie (aka Piggy) to the vet today, as she hasn’t been eating and her belly is swollen. We went to a vet here in the neighborhood instead of our regular at the beach, for convenience sake, and $523 later we walk away with the knowledge that she has advanced heartworm disease (stage 3) and her abdomen is filled with fluid, as the disease is affecting the right side of her heart.

He said she only has a matter of weeks before the disease kills her, but there are treatments we could start her on – 3 shots at $500 a pop after she’s admitted to hospital, has her abdomen tapped for fluid and started on antibiotic and Aspirin to thin her blood, before the treatment regimen is even started. And of course she might not be able to tolerate the treatments and that could kill her quicker.

We have an appointment tomorrow afternoon with our regular vet to look over the x-rays and the findings and see what he suggests and weigh the options. I am fully prepared to be bringing her home in a box, as it doesn’t seem hopeful at all and I absolutely do not want her to suffer any more than she already it – although the vet today said she isn’t in any pain, but rather is in a constant state of nausea with labored breathing due to the fluid causing her windpipe to be slightly constricted.

Tonight she rests comfortably in her bed beside my desk and her breathing is fine. I gave her a chocolate doughnut hole and she wolfed it down, no hesitation – which gave me a false sense of hope in thinking she might be feeling a bit better, when in reality she’s just a pig, but she’s my pig. I know chocolate is bad for dogs, but what the hell difference does it make now.

I miss her already and she knows it, as she keeps glancing up at me with a look in her eyes that I’ve never before seen.

FUCKING NASTY-ASS MOSQUITOS!!!

She woke up one morning with an urgency to become more involved in her daughter’s lives. I call it women’s intuition – she doesn’t question it or call it anything at all. That very day she signed on for Girl Scout and PTO duty, in addition to the Sunday school class she taught two days a week, and has been stretching herself thin ever since. The feeling of urgency replaced with overwhelming exhaustion – and still she’s no closer to her girl’s than she was before, but at least she can say she’s involved.

People at work noticed a change within a few weeks, as she was sickly pale, had no energy and suffered extreme mood swings, which was not at all like her. After a few months of this routine, she started becoming sick with what she believed to be allergies, but still refused to take time off work to see a doctor – until the day she woke with sores on the back of her throat and her lips swollen with what she believed were cold sores. The doctor gave her a z-pack of antibiotic and sent her on her way – she returned to work the next day, to the horror of her co-workers, who begged her to take some time off to heal herself – but she was having none of it.

Feeling physically spent as time wore on, she somehow adjusted to her ailments and forged ahead, refusing to let anything stop her or slow her down. A few more months and it would be summer, school would be out and then she’d take a break, she kept telling herself. But something else was bothering her that wasn’t so easy to shake – something unidentifiable and somewhat familiar constantly gnawing at the back of her mind – driving her on when she hadn’t the energy to drive herself, not knowing what or why.

If she opened herself, looked deep inside, she would recognize that gnawing from her own childhood, brought on by a repressed memory of her father and his late night visits to her and her sister’s room – the look in the eyes of her own daughters, mirroring that of hers, if she’d only find the strength to see.

And while clarity loomed on the horizon, her husband feared what was happening and knew if it came down to a choice, that it would be her that had to go, so that he could continue the life he’d built in secret with his girls.

“Honey, you look exhausted,” he said as he stood in the doorway and watched her fumble with the coffee filter. He walked across the room and took it from her. “Here, let me do that, you go on and take a shower.” She looked up at him and forced a smile, not having the courage or strength to tell him she hated his bitter coffee, but thankful that he’d offered to take over this simple task, which meant she had a few extra minutes to stand in the hot shower and try to wake up.

He watched as she shuffled her feet across the floor and disappeared down the hall, and then he reached into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew the vial, added a few drops in the bottom of the pot and flipped on the switch to brew.