Friday, January 31, 2014

TALK TO YOUR KIDS

 3:04 PM 1/31/2014

My Dear Son,

Here's a letter for you.  It's one I've been working on for quite some time, both on paper and in my head.

It all started nearly a year ago when I found out you'd been arrested.  Imagine my suprise, since I'd actually believed you when you'd said you were doing fine.  Funny thing, it looked like you were, and I didn't do enough deep digging to actually prove one way or the other whether you were or not.  Silly me.

I had been pretty sure I understood your reasons for not wanting me any closer to you or your family. After all, I have been critical of your choices in the past, and it's easy to remember that you think of me as just an Old Drunk who's made many bad choices herself, huh.

It's not like I gave you really Great Examples about how to live.  Nope, I just fought to raise you. I kept food on the table, shoes on your feet, kept you in school, paid attention to you nearly 24/7, loved you always, taught you every single thing I knew about survival and happiness, and avoided jail myself.
And never EVER came close to actually giving you away.  I would have fought to the death anyone who tried to take you from me because I believed that Love.. really would get you through times of little money. 

Perhaps I should have listened to those who told me that I couldn't raise you on your own with no child support.  I knew that I could, and wanted to more than anything I'd ever done in my life.  At 31 years old I made that commitment to raise you.  I could have chosen different: It was always an option to abort you, or birth you and give you away.

Trust me, I thought about it. A LOT.  Should I have just dumped you into the system and let all the chips fall wherever?  It probably would have made MY life easier.

I have to wonder today, if it would have improved yours.

It's the choice you made for YOUR children, without ever once asking me if I wanted to make that committment one more time.

Nobody has ever been promised that Parenting is easy, and I've had really high hopes for the past 5 years that you, my beloved son, would figure that out as you became a parent yourself.  Of course it's a little selfish of me to think that raising your own kids would give you new insights into the heart and soul that was put into raising you..
 But I dreamed you would someday catch up with your old Ma here and say "Wow: Thanks for hanging in there with me Mom".

That fantasy kept me warmish during all the times you made excuses about why you couldn't share my grandkids with me.
 I continued to defend you ferociously against any and all of your detractors, and make many excuses for you to any who actually loved you or me enough to inquire about you.  I BELIEVED in you my son, and truly believed you were growing up, reaching out, and becoming someone I'd be really proud to know.

Then you got busted, in a very stupid way for a very stupid crime.  That was.. STUPID, yup.  Do Crime/Do Time etc etc but you gave away my grandkids by choice.
 You did something there that is so far beyond anything I ever taught you or did to you that I am at a complete loss:

Did you want me to 'rescue' these children that I hardly even know?
 I could, probably, though it would take a lot of outside help. (I am old, single, poor, disabled and not a great candidate for Fostering 2 toddlers)

  Do you expect me to 'do the right thing' because I mostly always have?
 I'd be happy to try, but only when I believe it's best for the 2 babies involved.

 Are you counting on me to Parent you one more time despite the fact you're in prison and your wife is missing and your children are being fought over in court by folks I don't know?
 Then I suggest you talk to me.  2 letters in the year you've been incarcerated indicate that you really don't feel.. like talking to your Mom, Son.

I am sorry you are in prison Son.  So am I.  We are all locked up and locked down in our own ways, I love you.

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Holidaze- This Is Thanksgiving

  So as I mentioned before, I'm not blogging a whole lot.
Still this is a Holiday, one based on Gratitude and Thankfulness


(provided one ignores the fact that it's a WhiteFolks Holiday, celebrating that all our WhiteFolk ancestors moved into a new land, and DECIMATED the non-white Folks who were already here.  Rant brought to you by the fact that my Roomie is a 100% Native American Navaho) 

This is my Roomie, who would be pissed if she knew I was posting this picture of her here.
Both she and I are  not shy, but reluctant to post pictures,
lucky for me she doesn't know about this blog.  My Roomie. My Best Friend.

 

Here's what I have to be thankful for.

I am still here!
And maybe I'm a little wiser than I used to be.  I have some food in my fridge and cabinets, and a strong possibility that I will be able to get more on the 1st of December.  My bills are paid, and God willing I will pay them again next month.

I AM REASONABLY HEALTHY!
Sure, I have aches and pains and gripes about arthritis etc etc, but who doesn't, after the age of 50 or so?
I am thankful that my general health is as good or better than many others of my age.  I'm happy to accept myself as I AM, not as I think I'm supposed to be.


 
My be-loved animal Pals are all healthy and happy, and they make me feel good by trusting me to feed, care for, and love them.  This is Marshall


This is Mickey


This is Magic, who actually belongs to my LandLady but lives here






And my bird, Ak-Ak-Tookie, and my new cat Lefty, neither of whom I have good photos.


Here's what I have to be Grateful for.

SUNSHINE,  even now in late November.  Freezing cold nights are survivable, as long as the sun shines the next day.
FOOD: It's nice to see something in the fridge and cabinets, and hay and dog food outside.
THE INTERNET!!  For that I am so grateful to my neighbors!  I wouldn't have it without them; they've made my world a better place daily for the last few months.  Thank you!!

So here's my Thanksgiving Post-  Bless Y'all  and I'll see y'all here again around Christmas, ok?

Friday, November 1, 2013

Family Matters. FAMILY MATTERS!

I'm not much of a blogger anymore.  It's not because I don't like to write, it's more like I think I manage to say all the trivial shit I ever want to say in facebook.  Kinda like the rest of us, huh.

  For 10 years I've been keeping this poor old computer busy stuffing it full of everything on my mind, at least the stuff that mattered to me enough to type it out and hit 'save' or 'publish.'    I resurrected  this blog after destroying it once just to put the things I DON"T want to say on facebook, but still wish to keep.
  Maybe I just want some hard evidence of my writing to review later, much later.

 Here's a picture of a really cute baby.





This is my grand daughter.  She's looking mildly grouchy on the day that my Son married her mother 3 years ago. Her parents had been together for awhile, maybe a year before they married.  She was 14 months old.  I was invited to this wedding as an afterthought, but I was there.

  Today I don't know where she is. I'm getting closer though, I just got off the phone FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME EVER with a  lady from Child Protective Services who claims she is the Case Manager for my two grandchildren. (Yes; there is a second one that I don't really know very well yet, a boy named Daniel Jr who's a couple years younger.)

I've been trying to find them since last April when I found out for sure that their father, my son, was incarcerated and facing several years of hard time.  I was told at that time that their mother, my son's wife, had released all parental rights to them.

  I learned a LOT about this state's Child Protection Laws, and a lot of what I learned was so disheartening that it was damn near paralyzing to me.  My son's wife just disappeared; not answering phone calls, texts, emails, or facebook enquiries from me.

This week I discover that she's still around somewhere since she's suddenly updating her facebook page. Not mentioning her children at all, but she does offer her friends my son's prison address..

Today I find out that both my grandchildren are being cared for by what Social Services calls Foster-Care Non-Related Kin. As the Case Manager explained to me, that means someone who knew these kids and had cared for them before.  Not family.

She told me that the kids are healthy and growing, although my grand daughter has a full time Therapist to help her 'adjust' to all her trauma.  I am scheduling a face-to-face interview with the Case Manager so that I may prove to her 1.) Who I am, and 2.) that I love these kids and wish to help them.
  We need to discuss the pros and cons of possible supervised visitation from me.
 
  Grandparents in this state don't have a lot of legal pull in the Child Services world.  At least not without a lawyer,
and custody cases don't attract too many pro bono attorneys, yanno?

All Crap Aside,  THIS FUCKING SUCKS!!!  (I'm sorry Mom- NO I'M NOT!)  Mom would have understood my pain and frustration and feelings of helplessness, and she would have told me

To suck it up, most likely.  Fix the things you can, accept the things you can't or learn to ignore them. 
I am just really really REALLY glad that I know of no one else in my family that's ever had to deal with this kind of situation.. it's so, so.. UNCIVILIZED, damnnit!

Please don't wonder why my facebook posts are so often frivolous, it's just me, staying sane.

 

Saturday, August 24, 2013

The News I hate To Share





This is the stuff I really don't like to talk about, and would prefer not to post on Facebook in either status updates or notes. (Seems a little silly, really, since I led you here from a Facebook post, yet it's only you guys, friends and family that'll bother to read this.)


 I'm not hiding it because I am ashamed. I am, just a smidge. Not because it's my own fault, just because it hurts really really badly to talk about my own failings, and apparently my own beloved son, my single spawn, has caused me to think I failed him somehow, somewhere.

 Have I bored anyone who doesn't know me personally right off this page yet? GOOD!


 It seems that last March my son got busted. Arrested and charged with multiple felonies all involving drugs and weapons. I didn't learn of this until weeks later
. By May he was convicted after plea-bargaining his way into a lesser sentence. By June he was incarcerated into the AZ State Prison system.
  He's going to turn 26 years old next week: Odds are he won't be released until he's somewhere into his 30's.
 I am still digesting these cold hard facts.
 He left a 'wife', whom he'd told me recently (pre-arrest)  that he never actually married despite the fact that I attended their wedding.




 He left 2 children that he'd claimed as his on their birth certificates as their Father. I know by blood and intuition that his first child is related to me,
I am not so sure that the cute little second one is related to me by anything more than my son's desire to claim him.
Irregardless,  he left these two babies, my grandchildren,  without telling  me.

Maybe I could have done something to protect my grandchildren as I seem to have failed to protect my son..

All I know is Rumor.  Rumor says his wife is gone, my grandchildren are in Social Services and they won't tell me a GODDAMN thing unless I have an attorney submit my claim to my own minor/juvenile Family for me.  (Grandparents have very few legal rights to their Children's Children.)

I can live with the fact that my son is incarcerated for after all, many people have told me that he'd probably end up there.  Partly owing to his smart-ass intellectual tendencies, and partly owing to my avente-garde supposedly lacksidasical style of childrearing; to wit, I was too easy on him, and therefore shouldn't be suprised that he turned out to be less than a 'model citizen'.

I beg to differ.  I've been over and over and over my last 26+ years of life wondering how or what I could have done different and do you know what?
I wouldn't change 1 single thing about how I raised that boy.
He knew Love.  He was stimulated both physically and mentally by a committed parent (me) who was most of all always there;   he had Consistency, Encouragement,  much Praise and many Rewards for his successes, and my deepest commiserations and understanding on upon his failures.  He was a Cherished Child., and he helped me more than he'll ever know to Grow Up myownself..




 I miss this dude.  More than I can say.







I honestly don't want to answer a whole bunch of questions about him, despite the fact I have many many questions of my own for him.
I haven't heard from him.  Anyone interested in his current welfare can Google the ADC, Arizona Department of Corrections and look him up by name;  it's a weekly updated website that tracks each and every prisoner in their system.

This is why I've been reluctant to mention him, and why I've been so damn quiet lately..
Here's how I best remember my son, you know?




 YES:  I raised him to be tough.  And strong..  To always acknowledge the power of Love, Compassion, and Honor..  To care about others, and find Joy wherever he could.





But in Reality,  here's how he really is today.  I present, The Mugshot .  Look away, it bothers me too


 





Monday, August 19, 2013

All I Wanted Was Some More Ibuprofen

Wow! My sister was right, Blogger.com has been totally upgraded! Too bad nobody reads blogs anymore, it seems that Facebook has taken over. Still? I'm going to post here with a gripe/rant, and maybe even make it accessible to all 20 of my facebook buddies.

 It's really about my frustrations. Mostly and top level about a stupid broken ankle that I'm not getting the medical help to fix. Briefly, I fell hard and broke my ankle on Aug 6th. I was in the local hospital's ER within 45 minutes of that fall, and their X-rays showed what I already knew; I'd broken my ankle. Sadly, my local ER won't cast a broken bone, instead they splint it loosely and reccomend that you see your own Doctor who also won't cast a broken bone, but will refer you to an Orthopedic Specialist.

 I looked at those X-rays, and deduced that it was a simple Fibular Fracture with no displacement, meaning that it wasn't too complicated of a break.
 I took home a perscription for NSAIDS, Non-Steroidal Anti Inflammatories, and decided to treat it as I would any animal wound. ie, with lots of Practical Nursing, and a lot of supportive bracing.

10 days later I was running out of anti-inflammatories, so I went to see my Primary Care Doc. All I really wanted was some more Ibuprofen!
I've known this Doc for 25 years, which meant I listened to him after he'd listened to me. He sent me for more X-rays, and I looked at those too.  (When I studied Vet Medicine, my fave department was radiology)

. The new X-rays indicated that my ankle was not healing as it should have been, partly because I am just aging, and mostly due to the fact that despite all my support and care, I just cannot stay off of it; I have animals and gardens that must be cared for whether I am limping or not.
   Believe me, I am limping.

 I accepted my Doctor's strongly worded advice to see his own Orthopedic man to find out whether it just needed a heavy cast applied tomorrow, or whether it needed re-breaking and then a heavy cast applied. He led me to believe it was a 'done deal' for tomorrow,
, as his Ortho guy was to be at my local doctor's office tomorrow.
 All I had to do was call to confirm...

 Which was wrong.

 After 5 phone calls to the Orthopedic doctor since last Friday I finally got ahold of his receptionist/scheduler this morning, only to discover after they did 20 minutes of intake medical info that the Ortho Doctor won't be back in my town for another 30 days.
 Instead, they invited me to schedule a sooner appointment (their soonest being 10 days from now) in one of 2 other towns, both nearly 50 miles away.
 I have no transportation. There is no shuttle service available through my very basic state funded Welfare type of Insurance.
 There's no WAY I can ask a friend to waste 1 or even 2 days trying to get me there. And all I really wanted, was some more Ibuprofen!

 So, I am back to square 1, self doctoring. I am a pretty good field medic, and will continue to treat this ankle with sense, homopathy, and a stubborn belief in my own healing abilities.
  I will continue to pester my Primary Care Doc for some more NSAIDS, for after all, they are not a drug-of-choice for abusing.
  The prescription strength NSAID  works sooo much better then the exact same amount of over-the-counter Ibuprofen or Aleve. Cheaper, too, as I cannot at this time afford even 1 dollar's worth of Dollar Store remedies and my insurance will pay for a scrip.  Please, send beer. It's the best mild painkiller I know. Magz, 8-19-2013 5;30pm

Monday, August 22, 2011

"Oh, Get Me Home, Ford.."




The title here will only resonate with those few who have watched, read, and
appriciated Douglas Adams' 'Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy'.






I live by this Mantra:



So: I try not to panic, it's never seemed to accomplish much good.




Truth?

I'd like to go home. Unfortunately, I don't have one.


















In the interest of Purely Amusing Shit, enjoy!











Thursday, August 11, 2011

It's About Life: Here's The Question

Looking back at your own, beLoved and Important Life,

Would you call yourself a Good Example,
or a Cautionary Tale?







I'm musing upon the differences of Life Experiences.

There's a lot going on in my own Life right now, and I'm struggling to make
sense of it all.

There's the simple, and immediate stuff like Love, Survival, and Futuristic Plans,
then there's the regular shit going on in most folks' lives like
Regrets, Worries, and the so-far unworkable desire to change History, or at least the longing to do so.
( I try not to worry about it too much myself)


Cie la vie, cie la gar...  I believe that the Past is Immutable.
(Other than the ability to learn from it.)
Comfort,
comes from the realization that most Folk feel the same now and then.

I'd fix the World if I could!  But it's pretty cool to figure out that I CAN, fix myself now and then.

(The above rant is brought to you by...?  Just Situations, and Conversations.  I now return you to the
Regular Magz)