Wow

Well, a lot has happened since my last post. I think i left off talking about how i hated to leave my friends. It's been about a week and a half. the pain is no longer so prominant, and i am begining to rebuild my life. Things in our new home are going well. We now live with a hairy Swede who leaves razor clippings in the sink. His generosity has renewed my faith in men. I have always hoped that all men were not asses, but he is hard evidence. He supports all my ideas of what a man...a father should be. He loves to take care of us, and asks nothing in return. i'm too old for a father, but a friend would be nice. I do find myself being sad a lot. i miss everyone and everything. Every day it gets easier. I forget bits at a time, and eventually this will be my home. It almost is already. i feel safe a gain, and i can sleep.

Say What

A while back, my younger brother Josh and I were having a conversation. As we always do, we were arguing back and forth about something stupid. Some how, injuries came up in our conversation. We both proceeded in telling embellished stories of bums, briuses, scrapes, and gashes. joshua bragging about how tough he was, and I complaining about how much things hurt, despite my high pain tolerence. Then, Joshua says, "Hey Jerra, What does it feel like to break a bone?" I stopped my braggging and gave him a strange look, attempting to figure out how to describe a broken bone " What?", I asked, stalling for time, hoping I'd heard him wrong. "welll, like you know, whats it feel like?", he stressed the word feel as if it would give me a clearer picture of what he meant. Finally i knew how to describe it. In my most serious tone I said " Owe, Freakin owe." His face fell...not amused by my sarcasm. Then he said " no really??" I then repeated my mantra, and he has nbot asked me a stupid question since.

Love is when you never have to say your sorry

Tonight, as I drove away from my three best friends in the world, I knew that nothing would ever be the same again. I knew that this one day, that one man, and that one phone call had irrevocably changed my life forever. I knew that no matter what I could never go back to the way things were. I had to pull over as soon as they were out of sight (I didn't want them to see me break down). As I sat there, face pressed to the wheel, tears streaming down my face, the sound of a person gasping for air and grasping for a shred of stability in a time of turbulence coming from my own mouth, I realized that they had done nothing. They who knew that chocolate is a band-aid, and tears make a girl feel better, they had done nothing, and yet they were losing a dear friend. Every time I was one of them try to hide their tears, or glance at me with a huge burden in their eyes, I knew that what was happening was me growing up. I am learning that when you love someone that much, with every ounce of your being, when you would die for them, it hurts that much more to have to say goodbye. I have never felt pain like this before. A pain that starts in my chest and works it way through my throat to my eyes, where it manifests itself as tears. These aren't regular tears, but tears that may one day cost that man his life. These tears are tears of pain...Real pain, the pain of losing all you love and hold dear, and for what?? For nothing, I have done nothing. They have done nothing. As I drove back, tears blinded me, stung my face, and burned hot on my lips. I knew that I would make it, and I wiped my eyes, turned up the radio, and sung like a drunk Irishman at a pub (loud and off key). It warmed my heart to know that I had touched people, that I was loved even with my many flaws, and that I would be ok.

Long Story Short : Part III

Well, my Mom fell head-over-heals for the guy. She would have married that boy. Up until; recently, she was sure he was the ONE. Well, after a couple years, the relationship ended. My Mom was heartbroken. She soon began down a fairly rough path. She drank and partied. She also went to med school, it was her dream to be a doctor. She started to fall apart. It was then that my Father came into the picture. He was a tall, dark, handsome, charming, curly-haired, olive-skinned, Italian man. She fell in love again. He wasn't like her first love, but he loved her and treated her like a princess. Well, eventually she got married and then pregnant. That's where I come in. I was born. My mom says all the time that if I hadn't come along ahe would probably be dead. My dad, although charming, is and alcoholic, a drug user, and has a nasty temper. Well, he and my mom had some arguments, he tried to choke her, she was saved by a gay man at a Taco Bell, and they were divorced. He left and she took a two-year-old to class. Mom continued going to school. She eventually graduated and was a nurse. She met a man at a conference when I was about four, they got involved, my brother came along nine months after he left. My mother had gained an unsurpassed ability to settle fort a man. She can find the good in anyone. Well, four years later, I was eight, Josh was four, and Mom was in love again. This time he was a nice man, but not a smart or honest man. They got married, she got pregnant, he freaked out, she had a baby, and he left. Now, for those of you keeping score; that's three kids, ages 8, 4, and newborn, that's two marriages, two divorces, and several boyfriends. My Mother is the most forgiving and trusting person I know. When other people have given up, she presses on. Well...In the course of all this, we had moved from Bloomington, IN, to Indianapolis, IN, and we were now in Logansport, IN.


We were happy in Logansport. My brothers and I went to a good school. Mom had a good job. We lived in a great old farm house, next to a huge park. We had a couple dogs, some cats, and some birds (for awhile, until the cats met them...) Things were good. I was about twelve. * Side Note : at birth Jake was pretty healthy--Jake is the youngest-- but, as he got older, he kept having seizures, the doctors couldn't figure it out. He would fall down, stop breathing, and turn blue...Not fun. Well, we eventually found out that there was a hole in the bone in his forehead and part of his brain was actually in his nose. He had to have brain surgery. He survived, and is only very mildly disabled--he's just a little slow.

Ok, so to continue. Mom started feeling restless. Shesent her resume out to several places. One of the only ones she heard back from was the Indian health Services in Arizona. That's good for now...I'll continue later.

Long Story Short : Part II

A quick note : I know that I'm nothing special. i know that there are a million people out there with amazing and fantastic stories. i am not trying to impress anyone, I simply want to relay my story. My reason for all this is the huge changes my life is undergoing this year, and the need to reconnect with myself. So, read if you want, feel free to comment, but understand that this is for me, not anyone else.

So, as i was saying, my Mother is amazing and wonderful. in order to bring you up to speed on our lives, i need to start at the begining. So, now, this is my lif story, and all about what's gone on in the past years.

My Mother was born to a young teen mom. Her mother gave her up for adoption at birth. My Grandparents adopted her soon after. Her birthday is 6-6-66, how's that for odd. My Grandparents also adopted my Uncle a few years after my mother. they thern had two children. My Grandparents had known each other since grade school, and had gotten married very young, which wasn't strange in their day. They were born at the same hospital, within a week of each other. My Grandfather lived in a house with eight other children. His Father was a carpenter and his Mother a housewife. *My Grandmother lived in a disfunctional family. Her mother and Father both loved her very much, but her Father worked and both her parents were alcholics. Eventually they were divorced and My Grandma lived with her Father and his Mother. her mother left when she was very young, so as you can imagine, she had it pretty rough. Blah...Blah...They were married, moved to Germany where my Grandpa worked at some car plant, moved back to the U.S., adopted two kids...Now I'll continue. My mom and her brother were raised Catholic. They went to Catholic Schools all the way up into college. They had a happy childhood. They went to Disney World once a year, where they stayed a t farly posh hotels, they lived in a nice house, in a nice neighborhood, where they had nice things, nice cars, and nice friends. They went to great highschools, where my mother was a tall, blonde bombshell, that all the football players wantedr to date, and my uncle was the class clown/troublemaker.

While in highschool, my mother met the man of her dreams, a man that even today almost 17 years later, she still loves. His name was Jim. He lived across the river from her parent's lake house. He was a big, burly, football-playing hottie. He was charming and adorable, and he adored my mom. He was older than her by like two years, her was a Freshman in college when she was a Junior in highschool. My Mother lied to him about her age. My mother and I both look at least 3 years older than we are, this at times is a blessing, but at other times, it's a curse. Well, I'll leave it at that for now.

Long Story Short : Part I

There has always been a certain amount of chaos surrounding my Mother and I. No matter where we go, or what we do, we are different. Things happen to us that other people can't even imagine. Some things are amazing and wonderful, others are crazy and not-so-wonderfulish. Our life has never been boring. My Mother has raised my two brothers and I with the understanding that we, like herself, have this innate attraction to all things strange, odd, unique, crazy, fun, and exciting. She knows, as do we, to expect the unexpected and to live with the expectation of having no idea what is going to come up next. I love our life and the people who are a part of it. My Mother is a single parent, but I can't say we are a Single-Parent-Family. Our mother is equal to any mother-father team in the world, and maybe better. She is a super-mom. She cooks, cleans, gardens, helps the boys with football, and manages to keep us all in line. She amazes me every day. Well, for now I'll leave it at that.