I sent an email to the Circuit Attorney on Tuesday asking for an update about my case. No reply. Oh, that is making me suspicious. This is aggravating. 6 weeks has turned into months of waiting. I�ve seen grass grow quicker than this.
It also seems people are worried about me. I feel really awful about that. I don�t want people to worry. I guess I deal with things in ways that are baffling to my loved ones.
When times are really awful, I won�t call or write. I would hate to be one of those people who call only when things are bad. It�s not my way either to lie or say things are fine when they�re not. If I don�t have anything good to say, I won�t call.
I�m not a drama queen. Drama queens enjoy attention. I don�t. It makes me uncomfortable to have everyone focus on my life. I don�t consider myself to be one of those people who dwell on the bad either. I always have tried to look for the best in each situation and run with it.
It just seems like this year has been bad. Good was hard to find. It�s been very hard. I�m not good at coping, so I recluse. Don�t tell me how to be or how to think. It�s just my way. Don�t take it personal. I�m not a pet project either. There�s years of hell, abuse, and pain to unravel here and I have to do it alone. Maybe a therapist can help but these are issues I have to deal with. Not you. Just be a real friend is all I ask. Don�t judge me.
My adopted mom has been calling me a lot lately and I haven�t been calling her back. It�s because I get tired of saying over and over, �Things suck. And there�s still no news about the case.� I really don�t have anything good to say lately.
My adopted sister Maggie called me the other night and I finally told her what�s up. I don�t feel comfortable around her and sometimes Mom makes me feel like I�m a disappointment to her. So, I stay away. I�d rather spare myself the pain of being a huge disappointment to my adopted mom and my family.
I talked to Ms. Terry last night. I think I told you she�s my spiritual mom. She told me I couldn�t be sweeter to her if I was her own daughter. Sometimes, we get crabby and last night she was nagging me about smoking. I feel smoking is the least of my problems right now and I feel it makes the day bearable. She finally said, �I know you�re saying shut the hell up in a nice way, girl,� and she laughed. She knows me well. She told me about being published (she writes poetry) and told me about taking care of Casey while her mother�s gone. Ms. Terry has been taking care of kids since the age of 9. She has 7 grandchildren, two godchildren (my daughter and Casey).
Ms. Terry is 51 years old and is still looking after kids. She retired from her nursing career a few years ago after she got a cardiopulmonary disease. So, as she said, �Kids are my game, Ms. Terry is my name.�
We also talked about the Mormon Church she used to go to. She said she was happy to say she hadn�t been in 3 months. I asked if anyone had come calling (especially the stalker-like home teachers) and she said a few. She said however that she never said a word about going back there.
I told her I find it funny that the church is so centered on keeping people busy so they won�t notice the doctrinal differences it has from Christianity.
I also told he that I find it funny that people there don�t have much interest in her. Hmm. She�s black, she�s disabled, she�s also not of childbearing age and she isn�t married. Well, she�s not doing them much good now, is she?
I told her, that every Mormon Church has a hierarchy.
Blood-line Mormons (who go back generations), then temple going Mormons who are married, then any other temple going Mormon (married or not), then, you have, the poor Mormons, fringe (non-temple going) Mormons who go to church occasionally, and Jack Mormons who don�t go. Somewhere in the last few, I should insert minority Mormons. I have seen it myself when I was there, people who looked down on her and talked about her behind her back. Because she was assertive, educated, and asked questions. Because she was lively and had soul. I think also, because she is black. The church does not have a desirable history when it comes to minorities, whom they believed had dark skin, the mark of Cain, and were cursed. Blacks couldn�t even hold the priesthood until the late seventies. I mean, this church is always changing to go with the times, to be seen as mainstream. It�s not.
I guess maybe worst of all; Ms. Terry is not one of the blind faithful. She researches and asks questions. She�s always gotten a lot of dirty, exasperated looks, vague answers and sheer avoidance of certain issues.
Hell, a religion should be able to stand up to criticism, study and should be able to weather the times. This church gets very angry when you get down to the nitty gritty. If you happen to be lucky enough to get to the nitty gritty, then you are apostate, anti-Mormon or you have lost that burning in the bosom.
Please. Spare me. The one true church? Spare me. Revelations from God on a continual basis? Please.
Moving on now. My issues at present: My job is very tiring. Same thing every day; lots of pressure. My romantic life: non-existent. My finances and home life: better. Jackie, who has been sick most of the summer with allergy problems, is better. The air purifier will make life easier. And my finances are getting back on track.
I have a lot of stress because I feel like there�s so much I want to do but I don�t have the energy. I want to go back to school for a BA in Criminal Justice. I�m going to do it, but the question is when. I want to do a job that I feel good about and where I can make a difference.
I have more stress because I have a set of ovaries that just won�t quit. I admit, I finally do want to find someone again and have another child. My whole life, I didn�t really have a family, so that�s what I want for me and Jackie. I don�t need a picket fence; I just want to have companionship and a stable environment for Jackie to flourish in. I just can�t pick a bonehead for the job though.
I want to do well in my daily life, just being happy with what I have. I�ve done that most of my life. I want more.
And the things I really want are honorable, in my opinion. A job I enjoy, an education, and a family.
My friend Rene�, he had that family life. All he wants to do now is be single and unattached. Not so he can be a gigolo, but because he can do his own thing.
********************************************************
I bought the U2 CD the other night. It�s so weird to me, but everytime I hear �Beautiful Day� it takes me back to September 11th.
That day, I got up, and for once I was in a really good mood. I remember being in the car and hearing �Beautiful Day� for the first time. I thought, as Bono sang his heart out, that I would definitely buy the CD.
I remember thinking how funny it was that the day was so gorgeous.
Timesheets were due that morning. I filled mine out at 7:30 a.m. and then I took it downstairs to my boss. But first I stopped to have a cigarette outside. I then took the elevator back upstairs. I try to drag everything out sometimes because this line of work can be so boring.
It was cold in my boss�s office. I was shivering. Don wasn�t in his office, so I dropped the sheet on his desk. I wrote him a note on a sticky that he could do any corrections himself and I left.
My co-worker John stopped me on the way back. He�s famous for that. John looks like a squat Jay Leno and talks like a magpie.
I couldn�t look at his face though�I was looking over his shoulder at the TV. We had CNN in that office. I know John was talking, but all I could see was that the World Trade Center was on fire. What?
Finally, seeing I wasn�t listening, John stopped yapping about whatever and said, �Didn�t you know, a plane hit the World Trade Center?� I shook my head, still not looking at him. It took me a minute, I guess it was shock, to remember that the WTC was in New York. They were burning. Burning?
I ran back up the steps to my office, too impatient to wait for the elevator. My office also had CNN. I ran back upstairs and alerted my office mates to what was going on. We snapped into action, doing what we had to do. Another alert came across the screen and that�s when we heard the Pentagon was also on fire. What the hell? The Pentagon? Isn�t that restricted space and restricted airspace? That�s what really set the panic button off.
I called my family, waking them up, sensing this was a catastrophe of historic proportions. I also had friends working at the Pentagon, so I was tense.
Everything happened in slow motion that day. I remember being rooted to my desk. There was work to be done in my office, but I did nothing. When the 2nd plane hit, I started to cry, knowing that people were already dead. And then the people hanging out the windows and falling, my heart broke.
The smoke, the chaos, the burning buildings. It was so shocking I couldn�t even cry. In my heart, I knew there was really no hope for some of them, and said a prayer that the angels would comfort them.
There was so much chaos that day..things happening that couldn�t be explained. Wild rumors about hijackings and the White House, some turned out to be true, others not. But as much as people want to say the media sensationalized what happened that day, I say, �Wake up!� Nothing the media could�ve done would�ve captured the sheer horror of that day. Nothing could really explain the atrocity. Nothing.
Lots of people died. Good people. People that were working that day. Firefighters and policemen and good Samaritans went into those buildings to help save lives. And they died.
Missing fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, best friends, work associates. How could anyone downplay that? It was just as horrible, if not more, than it seemed to be.
I remember that it really was a beautiful day, and thinking how ironic that the day itself was so peaceful and pretty, while one of the worst acts of terrorism was occurring. I remember seeing the towers collapse. Amid the smoke, I caught glimpses of a brilliant blue sky and clouds.
It was not just another New York day.
It was hell on earth. I couldn�t believe it was happening.
I was in the car listening to the CD this morning. Today it is really cloudy and muggy. �Beautiful Day� came on, and next thing I knew I was crying. I don�t know if I�ll ever not react that way to that song.
Last year on the 11th, I took off work and took Jackie to mass. I wanted to go somewhere peaceful so that I could remember the people affected by that day, and reflect on how lucky I am to be here. I held Jackie close as I looked around the church. I studied the stained glass pictures, and I looked at these little kids who were trying to make sense of something so awful. The kindergartners, all the way up to the fifth grade, all were participating in the memorial for the victims of 9/11.
A lot of Jackie�s classmates were wearing something red, white or blue (or all). A few cried. I felt sorry for them. This day took the security away from their world. They really didn�t understand it, but they knew it changed everything, and that it was bad. Kids are smarter than people give them credit for.
The priest talked about faith and strength in the time of sorrow. It�s something that even if you�re not Catholic, it doesn�t matter, faith is a universal need. Faith is not something any religion can put a patent on. It�s necessary for people to make it through life without losing their minds, in my opinion.
After that first anniversary, I may remember that day once a week or so. But I don�t cry anymore. I may quietly reflect, but I move on. I feel I grieved for it in the only way I knew how, by dealing with it head on.
I�m still sad it happened. I�ve saved things for my daughter so that when she grows up, she can see things from other�s points of view. Eyewitness accounts, biographies of victims, stories of heroism.
I was 3 when Elvis died. I was too young to understand a legend was gone. I just remember the grieving.
I was 10 when the Challenger blew up. We were watching it on TV at school. The horrified teacher just let the TV keep running after the explosion and she ran out into the hall looking for other teachers. Me and my classmates, we stared at each other, puzzled. What was going on?
I was 26 on September 11th 2001 and I remember.
All my little one knows is the bad men made the buildings fall. She also knows she�s safe in her own home. Bad things happen, but not every day and not to everybody.
This 9/11, I�ve decided to take the day off. You see, I�m an emotional person. I remember on 9/11, grieving for New York, the families, and the nation. I knew how it felt to be a victim of something where you had no fault; you didn�t do anything for this to happen to you. I knew how one single act could change everything. I also know how some people are so callous, so self-centered, that if it doesn�t affect them, then they really don�t care. I remember after the attacks, I was at working one day, minding my own business. This was the day they had the Pentagon Memorial. I started seeing USN after names, and I just had to leave. Most of my friends have USN after their names in the military. Those are my shipmates. In the Navy, you never really meet strangers, and these people were no different. After seeing the blank look on SwampMama�s face, I left. I went home that day.
Some people repress their feelings, but I�m not good at it.
I cried for a long time. The first year after Black Tuesday, I�d see something on TV, or read about the widowed mothers and babies, the families, Father Mychal Judge. Sometimes, I�d cry openly. Other times, one big fat solitary tear would escape and cascade down my cheek. While the rest of the world was doing their own thing, I was still devastated by the loss of these people. So, I�d remember them, with my Flags on my car, or by writing about them. Sometimes, when I was alone, I�d watch the video (narrated by Robert Deniro) by the Naudet brothers.
I wanted to get it out of my system. I learned long ago not to suppress strong emotions, so I�d just cry. I wondered sometimes about the world my daughter was growing up in. These little ones don�t have the security we did.
10:59 a.m. - 2003-08-29
Recent entries:
What you missed - January 16, 2012
%%older_entries%%From hell - October 19, 2010
%%older_entries%%a rant from a few weeks ago - August 17, 2010
%%older_entries%%Tired - June 20, 2010
%%older_entries%%A beautiful lie - March 11, 2010
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