Dear Dad,

I’m pretty sure the text I sent this morning didn’t make it through, because the bubble on the screen was blue, which usually means “you’re blocked”. But I have it on good word that you do read some of my posts, so, “I’m writing this in case I’m gone tomorrow“.

I have heard you say the words “I never want to hear from you again” way too many times to count, and although it never gets easy hearing it, I understand if that is how you wish for it to be. I made peace with being on the losing end of the “I’m done with you” gauntlet engineered by your mother before I was even a thought. But I just want you to know that despite everything that’s ever been or that never has, and how I’ve now become the black sheep of this family, I do wish things could be different than they are.

Gia loves you too, and obviously so does Christian, but the cycle that keeps repeating itself in this family is no way for anyone to live, especially in the wake of devastation and loss my kids and I have suffered. Gia and I cannot allow ourselves in the presence of toxic places, energies, situations or people anymore. It’s a choice we’ve had to make for our mental health and survival. As for Christian, I’ve tried relentlessly to help him understand how things in this family work so that he too can rise above it once and for all, but at this point in the game, all I can do is pray that he finds a Light at the end of the lonely, darkened tunnel of regret we all built for him to travel. I pray every day that he doesn’t end up shooting HIMSELF in the head like my husband.

That being said, you should know that my son is a really good kid with a really big heart who tried desperately to gain your “approval”. The only reason he stays medicated and “disengaged” is because he’s broken. He’s humiliated, ashamed, and shattered into pieces because he just can’t ever seem to do anything good enough, and he can’t keep up with all your “conditions”. Every promise you ever made to him was broken. Every “gift” you ever gave him has been retracted. Don’t you remember how it made you feel when your own mother did those things to you? Welcome to your grandson, Dad. He’s history repeating itself, just like I used to be until I finally said ENOUGH!

I don’t wish any harm on you or for you to have to die all alone like the black rose in one of the saddest songs I’ve ever heard. It’s tragic that there’s nothing leftof this family, especially after all evil your own “mother” did to you. The one thing that’s always baffled me is why would you want to be like her? Her grudges? Her conditions? Her double-standards of bullshit? The way she “washed her hands of you” when you failed to follow the rules? The only thing I have ever wanted to “give” my own children is a different life than the one I had. It’s no secret that I’ve failed them both miserably at times and repeated some of the cycles that were handed down on this family tree, BUT THEN I WOKE UP! Do you remember that day? I “woke up” in an insane asylum a thousand miles from home after having my kids literally peeled off my body while being carted off to a nuthouse to finally make the decision to stop living a life of farce. I did that for them, not for me, and do not regret a single decision I’ve made since deciding to start all over. Not, a single, ONE.

For the record, I don’t care about all your money or any of your “stuff”. I need nothing from ANYONE and can take care of myself and my kids just fine. It’s just that Christian says that you’re very sad these days, and I hate to hear that about anyone. Life is too short, so you should try to make the most of what time you have left here, whether it’s one day or twenty years. You and mom both worked so hard all your lives, and now what is there to show for it? An empty house? Some cars? A bank account and a bunch of “stuff”? No thanks. I’ll pass. No one will care about “what” you had when you die, and God isn’t going to ask what kind of car you drove when you get there. He’s just going to ask, “How Did You Love” and did you believe in His Son.

Thirty-three years ago, I stood on a stage and sang this song to you in an auditorium full of strangers. Hearing it still makes me cry as I ponder the opportunities, we all missed “living”, and how we’ve foolishly taken each other for granted. All any of us ever wanted was you, Dad. Not your money – not your stuff. Just you. We wanted to be what made you feel like a king! But we’ve all fallen short, such that you can’t even bare to look at us, just as we are, nothing more, nothing less, and say: “THEY are my castle. THEY are my crown. Win, lose or draw, fuck ups and failures, THEY are my family, and THEY are good enough!”

So, with that, I leave you with this. Whether or not you believe it, I hold no grudge against you, nor will I ever, and I forgive you for every single thing you either “did or didn’t do” right by this family. Trust me when I tell you, I’ve had more than my fair share of “did or didn’t do” moments and I have been anything but a perfect parent. If it is true that you have read any of my words, then surely you must know that I have long since accounted for and apologized to them both for the many ways I failed them and all the ways I could have done better. Your granddaughter and I have not only forgiven the best husband and father this world has ever known, but THE DEVIL HIMSELF for devouring his mind and breathing the monster into his head that hurt us so badly in the end. That being said, with the exception of a handful of people in this world who have come for me and mine, I live by the same grace and forgiveness that God has unconditionally shown me.

Now, does that mean that I don’t openly hope that the handful of people I’ve had to forgive for my sake and my sake alone for the disgustingly cruel acts of inhumanity against my husband and my children don’t sleep well at night? It sure as hell doesn’t, and I sure as hell DO wish nothing but the LEAST for them and theirs! I forgive them all, but hope they never stop seeing my husband’s beautiful face staring back when they look inside their empty mirrors, and I very much do pray they have NIGHTMARES when they close their eyes thinking of their “trash can boy Zack of shit” son and brother blowing his brains out alone in that car after a lifetime of abandonment, betrayal, and neglect. And that “first do no harm” blonde HOOKER nurse who knowingly, willingly, and “in her right mind-edly” set out to destroy me and my kids? Yah, I’ve forgiven her too, but here’s wishing her all “the rest” that only a see you next Tuesday like her deserves! But wow, I’ve digressed! You get the point. I can forgive anyone for pretty much anything, and with the exception of those sub-human “things” that destroyed my husband and tried to destroy my kids, I wish nothing but the best for everyone – including YOU!

The picture below is my favorite one of me, and the center of one the best things I’ve ever written, “Crossing Over“. You were in that picture too, but I cropped you out when I published it. It was the wrong thing to do, especially given that when I decided to “cross over”, I did so as queen. Well, good queens don’t hold grudges or burn people alive on a cross. They speak their mind, walk away, and let God handle all the details. That is what I’m doing now. For what it’s worth, no matter what does or doesn’t happen, or what words are left unsaid between us when it’s time for you to see The Brighter Side Of Grey, this is the picture of us I will always choose to remember. I’m leaving out all the rest. I love you Dad, and I’m truly sorry for anything I’ve done to hurt you. My war with you is over!

DESPERADO

Desperado, why don’t you come to your senses? You’ve been out ridin’ fences for so long now. Oh, you’re a hard one. I know that you got your reasons. These things that are pleasin’ you can hurt you somehow. Don’t you draw the queen of diamonds boy. She’ll beat you if she’s able. You know the queen of hearts is always your best bet. Now it seems to me some fine things have been laid upon your table, but you only want the ones that you can’t get. Desperado! Oh, you ain’t gettin’ no younger. Your pain and your hunger, they’re drivin’ you home. And freedom? Oh freedom. Well, that’s just some people talkin’. Your prison is walking through this world all alone. Don’t your feet get cold in the wintertime? The sky won’t snow, and the Sun won’t shine. It’s hard to tell the nighttime from the day. You’re losin’ all your highs and lows. Ain’t it funny how the feeling goes away? Desperado, why don’t you come to your senses? Come down from your fences, open the gate. It may be rainin’, but there’s a rainbow above you. You better let somebody love you (let somebody love you). You better let somebody love you before it’s too late. {The Eagles}

So, what’s YOUR

“Naked Number”?

Mine is TWO! Only two men have ever really seen me naked, King One and King Two, and “only two” it may be forever. That being said, I am totally on board with “alone, not lonely” for the entirety of my journey if that’s what’s meant to be.

I mean, hello? Have you MET me? I’m the happiest person I know and I’m my very best friend, and “me and me” have a TON of Light to shine and punctuating to do amid the masses. We’re doing just fine on our own!

BUT HERE’S THE DEAL …

I’ve long believed that three is the number of perfection, and under optimal conditions, the all-consuming heat from my untamed heart could melt a diamond. I’m not a fan of being touched, though, so, any man worthy of getting close enough to hold not just my body, but my heart, is gonna have to be forged from fire himself. His Herculean wings will have to be bigger than mine, so that whether he’s flying above or behind me, they’ll see the flames of all MY heart’s desires burning deep inside the fire of his. His wings will need to eclipse the shadows of the only two men on Earth who have ever led me before him. Not only will he be confident enough to live with “my two ghosts”, even more so will he embrace and honor their rightful places in my heart and mind in gratitude for the treasure they left for HIM.

Only time will tell if there is to be one last king who gets to see me naked, read the very private pages of this book, and speak to me in the language of my soul …

Lastly, and on a side note, I don’t know who needs to hear this right now, but it is my truest prayer that everyone reading this either has already or will someday soon attract a “Naked Partner” who speaks the love language of your heart so that you don’t have to spend what is often an entirely fruitless lifetime trying to interpret, decode, translate, and explain the language of your soul.

(“Say The Words“)

… because he’ll know how to read the most encryption within my heart before we ever speak a word. The the only thing that can survive fire is fire, just as the only one who belongs with a queen is a king … but DAMN, he’ll be one lucky man! Trust me when I tell you, I really am “nothing, everything, and ALL of it“. That’s what he’ll have to be, too.

SOUL SEARCHER

I don’t know what am I looking for … I don’t know what I’ll find. It lies behind the door to another space and time. The riddle is a metaphor without a trace of rhyme. Don’t need a time machine to travel near and far. Went deep inside to reach a distant star. Things are never what they seem when you wonder who you are… who you are. Soul searcher! Soul searcher! Can’t hide – there’s no one there but me. Light reveals what’s never been shown – no mortal eyes can see. By yourself, but not alone, our soulmates set us free. And everything you’ve ever known is what was meant to be… it was destiny. Soul searcher! Take a look inside and tell me what do you see. Soul searcher! Can’t hide-there’s no one there but me. {Joe Lynn Turner}

… because, YUP,

he was a KING like that!

THE FLOWERS! It was one of my favorite things about him. He’d send me flowers even when I wasn’t home, whether I was sitting in a classroom somewhere, or on the rare occasion that I traveled without him, they’d be waiting in my hotel room!

The fresh flowers that are always on my counter these days (and will be until I take my last breath) may no longer be sent by him directly – but trust me when I tell you – they are, indeed, BECAUSE of him! He made damn good and sure that I knew I was priceless, valuable, and WORTHY of all the best and most beautiful things in this world every single day. The never-ending array of fresh flowers in this house for me (and sometimes even Gia) was just one of the ways he accomplished that. So, when I tell you that he made me a queen and QUEEN I shall be all the days of my life, “all the flowers” are just one of the many reasons why!

Jean Claude Van DAMN I am such a lucky woman. He may be physically gone, but who he was and his legacy of love are still very much alive in the fabric of our lives. True love never dies … it just slips into another room. So, with that, why not go and get YOURSELF some flowers today, because you are worthy, too!

… yes, my friends, we’re all decked out in grey here at The Manor, and I couldn’t be any happier. You cannot really know me without first understanding the “grey” of it all, how I earned the endearing title of Miss Red Hook 1922, and why FOG is my other favorite color.

Faith And Perspective.

The fog doesn’t scare me. It’s neither ominous, looming, or haunting. Within it’s mist, I feel a cosmic hug from every moment and creation that ever was or will be. It’s cryptic, ethereal, and POWERFUL, like The One Who ever charged me to solve the great mystery in the first place:

WHY? Why do we suffer? Why is there pain? Why is there heartache and death?

Indeed, I’ve discovered the answer to that question, and here it is, my friends:

THERE ISN’T ONE!

Not needing to understand is the understanding!

Amidst all the fog is the Nirvana I’ve achieved as I’m free-falling off this cliff with truly blind faith that everything’s gonna be okay, not having to worry about all the details, and believing with EVERY fiber of my mortal being that The Cosmos WILL catch me in the end. It’s “nothing”, and “everything”, and “ALL OF IT” at once, like the oxymoronic carnival of joy that is my INSANELY BEAUTIFUL LIFE!

My truest prayer for anyone reading this is that if you haven’t reached this pinnacle yet, you will before your journey here is over. When that day comes, you will never be falling down again … you’ll only be falling UP … and the fog will whisper the silent rhapsody of God singing you these words:

I wept as I saw you aching, broke as I watched you falling, and suffered as I watched you struggling to get back up and find your way to Me through through the fog. You couldn’t always see me, but I never left your side, and now that you finally understand that you DON’T have to understand “everything and all of it“, you’re standing at My high cathedral walls where nothing about your journey has been meaningless or small. I love you, Child. You are warm, well fed, and at peace Here.

WE FALL DOWN

Cursing every step of the way, he bore a heavy load to the market ten miles away, the journey took its toll. And every day he passed a monastery’s high cathedral walls, and it made his life seem meaningless and small. And he wondered how it would be to live in such a place – to be warm, well fed and at peace, to shut the world away. So, when he saw a priest who walked, for once, beyond the iron gate, he said, “tell me of your life inside the place”. And the priest replied, “We fall down, we get up … and the saints are just the sinners who fall down and get up”. Disappointment followed him home, he’d hoped for so much more, but he saw himself in a light he had never seen before, ’cause if the priest who fell could find the Grace of God to be enough, then there must be some hope for the rest of us. There must be some hope left for us, ’cause we fall down, we get up …”. {Bob Carlisle}

… that moment she walks in the kitchen and says,

Awe, look Mom! It’s Dad standing guard at the little cottage in the woods he made damn good and sure you really ARE gonna have one day!

… then you want to cry, but instead you can only smile, because Jean-Claude Van DAMN she’s the strongest, wisest, most gracious human being you’ve EVER met.

… and (PS) …

YOU MADE HER!

If only you really knew why it means so much that she still calls him “Dad” … well … then you’d really know why it it means so much that she still calls him “Dad”. I’m sure you must be tired of me saying it, and I’m sorry I’m not sorry that I always do … but … I really am the MOST blessed queen in the entire history of this world.

The first time I ever took the Meyers-Brigg Type Indicator was at the request of the counselor I was seeing for a while, “Doctor Steven“. That poor bastard. I’m fairly certain that even he had to seek therapy after dealing with me all those months. Lol. Can you imagine being one of those people who put a counselor in counseling?

Congratulations Cat! In true oxymoronical, walking, talking contradiction style, via everything you’ve ever been, said, or done, you’re both an actual AND a metaphorical freak of the world “INFJ“!

When I got home and began researching “the INFJ of it all“, I literally became nauseous and had a meltdown. Also? I WAS PISSED! Where the hell did he get off telling someone who already thought “everything was wrong with them”, that this, too, was “wrong with them”. Umm, no thanks, Doc. I think I’ll pass!

It all seemed so dark and twisted that I couldn’t handle it. So, I did the only thing I could and let that “label” go in one ear and out my ass with many of the other spot on things he’d tried to tell me about myself. But hey, that’s a different story for another day.

The second time I took it was at my ‘lil trip to The Meadows. Said visit was the good Dr. Steven’s idea, not mine, and perhaps the best “worst thing that ever happened to me”. Again, I’ve digressed. Which then leads me to the third and last time I took it while still at The Meadows, because after taking it the second time, I FREAKED THE FUCK OUT again!

What the HELL is wrong with these people? What the HELL is wrong with this test? Where in actual HELL did this dumbass doctor send me? I don’t WANT to be a freak of nature! I don’t WANT to be “the odd one”!

So, I asked if I could take it one more time. Winner, winner, chicken dinner! The third time actually was the charm, and yes, I’m an actual weirdo! It took me a long time to finally come to terms with all my “labels and diagnoses”, and I fought against every one of them tooth and nail. Meanwhile …

Hi everyone, it’s me, Cat. I’m a Warrior, Motivator, SURVIVOR, AND I’ve overcome one of THE most stigmatic mental illnesses, AND a TESTED AND VERIFIED FREAK! I really AM “kinda like a storm“!

Today, I embrace my rarity by focusing only on the positive characteristics of being an INFJ. I’m “highly creative, artistic, idealistic, focused on the future, value close, deep relationships, and enjoy thinking about life”.

Are there some dark and twisted traits with this? YUP! I can be overly sensitive and difficult to get to know. YUP! I do have very high expectations … and I’m stubborn … and I hate confrontation. But every one of those weaknesses are also part of my strength. So, now I spin it this way:

Hi everyone, it’s me, Cat! While I can indeed be overly sensitive, at least I’m in touch with my feelings and allow myself to have them. I suppose I am rather difficult to get to know, because, yes, I do have WICKED high expectations, but umm, have ya met me? I’m a queen, and not only can queens not be friends with everyone, why would they want to anyway? So, with that, congratu-fucking-lations to anyone who’s had the privilege of knowing me, and even more so to the few who ever will. My uber-selective inner sanctum is one of THE best places to “get” to be. At the end of the day, although the light from my halo is loving, warm and endearing, it will burn your fucking eyes out if you’re not strong enough to stand near it. Please ONLY bring your A-game … I’ll settle for NOTHING less … I’ll see right through your bullshit AND throw it back in your face, ’cause (PS) not only am I not afraid to be alone, I rather much enjoy it. To know me is to love me, but ONLY if you’re lucky!

Yes, I AM one of God’s own high powered prototypes, and I wouldn’t have me any other way. If I have to regret anything from my past (and trust me, I don’t regret much), it’s that I spent so many years being ashamed of all my “labels” (the good, the bad, AND the ugly). These days? They’re my favorite tattoos of all … cryptic, elusive, and invisible! YOU can’t see them, but trust me, THEY’RE THERE, and only the BEST of the BEST people this life has to offer me will ever get to!

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this before, but when my husband found out about my freaked up personality, he always said it made me unique and special:

You’re MY beautiful disaster, honey, and I wouldn’t have you any other way!

He knew I was “this” before we got married, yet made me a Williamson anyway! Jean Claude Van DAMN I always knew that guy was a genius. (And yes, he really was, BOTH verifiably AND metaphorically!)

FREAK OF THE WORLD

Don’t want the Sun to shine upon my face. And I see your eyes and their glazy haze. Your lips don’t move but I hear what you’re sayin’. I look outside through the razor blades. And I crawl and I scrape and I feel for you, but there’s nothing, there’s nothing that I can do. I’m a freak – I’m the freak of the world. I’m a freak! Freak of the world. Stars are shining oh so bright, but I don’t think everything’s alright. And I can’t wake up ’cause I dream all night. Yeah you’re in my way and I can’t get by. And I beg and I cheat and I steal for you, but there’s nothing, there’s nothing that I can do. I’m a freak – I’m the freak of the world!

{Puddle Of Mudd}

… ’cause, umm, doesn’t EVERYONE talk to ghosts in their bathroom?

So, here’s the deal folks. The TV volume goes up and down while the remote is on the table. We walk through certain spaces and feel a cold breeze blow through us, then get the chills. Next thing you know, the dog is doing a little happy dance and sniffing around at “something” he can see but we can’t … JUST LIKE HE USED TO WHEN DADDY CAME HOME! Then, on the night of Gia’s homecoming last October, while she was sitting at the vanity in my bathroom getting all glammed up for her big night out, I spoke these words out loud:

What do you think Dad? Doesn’t our daughter look GORGEOUS?

The lights started going CRAZY! So, she asked a series of very specific questions, starting with this one:

Is that you, Dad? Blink once for yes – twice for no.

“The Ghost” Of Williamson Manor answered every time, right on cue. Keep in mind that the first time this “light thing” ever happened, I had just finished getting dolled up for a girls night out. As I was looking in the mirror I said:

Well, honey, I’m heading out for the night! How do I look?

… at which point the lights flickered THREE times: “I – LOVE – YOU!!” It was our “three squeeze thing”. Sounds crazy, right? Maybe it is. It doesn’t really matter to either of us what anyone thinks at this point. The hardcore fact is that whatever this “thing” is that’s happening in our home, IT’S NOT OUR IMAGINATION! At first we tried reasoning it down to some sort of electrical problem, but then an electrician came out and could find no mechanical reason why the circuit that runs to those lights keeps blowing. At the end of the day, it just is what it is, and we don’t hate it! So, what do “BOO” think about this, err, “ghostly” situation?

GHOST

Thought it was dead and buried, then it woke you up last night. Sought it so damn worried – you’ve been tossin’ turnin’, both ends burnin’. I want to put your mind at ease again. Make everything alright. I know it’s getting underneath your skin. I try to tell you now – don’t look over your shoulder, ’cause that’s just the ghost of me you’re seeing in your dreams. Wait. There’s no rhyme or reason. Sometimes there’s no meaning in the visions when you’re sleeping. Don’t wake up and believe that you’re looking at the ghost of me. Your imagination and emotion’s running wild. Fueling my frustration, like a fire burning. Clock is turning. I know it’s getting underneath your skin. I try to tell you now. Don’t look over your shoulder, ’cause that’s just the ghost of me you’re seeing in your dreams … {Daughtry}

A CALL TO MY FELLOW LIONS:

May the power and grace of your strong and determined heart continue to be with you always! It’s really kinda hard standing all alone in the crowd. Oh wait! NO IT’S NOT! Perhaps one of my crowning achievements is knowing that I’m different and embracing it!

Herd mentality, mob mentality or pack mentality describes how people can be influenced by their peers to adopt certain behaviors on a largely emotional, rather than rational, basis. When individuals are affected by mob mentality, they may make different decisions than they would have individually.

(“The “Herd Mentality” via Wikipedia)

Didja catch that, people? On a “rather than rational basis”! It takes strength, courage, and intelligence to run against or apart from a herd of weak pack animals that are wholly unable to think for themselves and live outside their own ignorance, oblivion, and conformity. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Not only are sheep cute, fluffy, super sweet, and valuable, there’s a reason they’re at the bottom of the food chain. They’re not exactly the brightest bulbs in the circuit board of life, and Darwin freakin’ nailed it when he called it “survival of the fittest”.

Now, get back up to the top of that mountain where you belong, ALONE BUT NOT LONELY IF YOU MUST! Let your mane flow in the breeze, keep your claws ever sharpened and out, and always be ready to swat away all those annoying fucking sheep if they try to slow your roll. Look down at your kingdom, breathe it in, then breathe it out, and laugh to yourself quietly as all the flies land on your SHIT and actually think it tastes good!

RAWWR!

LIONS

Today we live. Today we breathe. Today we know that we are strong when we are weak. Today we trust. We overcome. Take every chain that kept us slaves and throw em’ off. We’re not waiting for permission. We defy our inhibition like our middle name is “fearless”. Unafraid. If we’re gonna fly, we fly like eagles – arms out wide! If we’re gonna fear, we fear no evil. We will rise by Your power we will go. By Your spirit we are bold! If we’re gonna stand, we stand as giants. If we’re gonna walk, we walk as lions. WE WALK AS LIONS! Today is ours, it’s always been. Before we face the fight, we know Who’s gonna win! We live by faith and not by sight. We don’t want safe and quiet. We don’t wanna run and hide. This is not an intermission. It’s our time, not gonna miss it. You’ve already called us fearless. Unafraid. Everywhere we go, the battle has been won. We know You’ve gone before us. So, we’re taking hold of faith with every step we take. We know we’ll rise victorious!

{Skillet}

BEAR WITH ME …

… ’cause this one’s gonna BEE long! Some days I awaken with a complete loss of words, but then the Cosmos wraps me in it’s exquisite cloak and shows me exactly what needs to be said. Like this morning, while having my coffee in “the chair” and scrolling through social media, when a friend of mine posted this:

Men, this really is what women want. Even if you cannot provide all of the finances that he speaks about. Thank you Earnest Fenton …

“HOW I DATED, PLANNED, AND MARRIED MY WIFE”

DATED (0-11 MONTHS): I showed up at her job with lunch; I dropped her off at work when it was snowing; I cleared my space early on and gave her my undivided attention; I found out what interested her …

ENGAGEMENT (1 YEAR): I paid off all of her personal debt (before we were married). I didn’t want money to be of concern to her; I told her how much money I had; I told her how much money I make; I created a trust for both of us; I put some “carats” on her finger that represents what she represents to me …

MARRIAGE (1.5 YEARS LATER): I setup a multiple six figure life insurance policies (if something untimely happens to me, money WILL NOT be her issue); I took her to several countries – because: If she is “my world”, I should show her “the world”! I work our plan daily -t o retire her 5-10 years EARLY! I make certain her car is serviced, cleaned and gassed up; When she joins a challenge, I often join w her (if she is getting more fit, WE getting more fit); I empty garbage, scratch her back; rub her feet and run bath water, if needed; I do not cook, but I told her, “You will always eat with me”; I work hard every day and walk through the door like nothing happened; When my wife calls, I ANSWER; We have housecleaning (she can phone whenever she pleases) and a cook for every holiday (because my wife works and I don’t want her tired); She never has to guess where I am – I’m consistent and transparent; I keep a petty cash drawer stocked so she’ll always have cash available; If my wife looks like she’s uncomfortable with you, you are gone (I gotta get rid of ya! Lol, but not).

MY PHILOSPHY AND MORAL:

A man will never reach his fullest potential without the presence of a GOOD WOMAN! To short her is to short self! To deny her is to deny self! WE DO NOT PLAY SMALL, WE ARE ALL IN!

♥️ ♥️ ♥️

Umm, I have no idea who this “Ernest” guy is, but as I was reading his words, I got butterflies and the biggest smile. He was literally writing the story of us, “The Frog & The Butterfly“. “This man” was Zack. There wasn’t a thing on his list my husband didn’t do, become, or make happen for me, and that, my friends, is the truth. But then something else happened. Listen to a few of these what in the actual FUCK comments on her post …

A lot of this makes me uncomfortable. He is too focused on money. Sounds like he was hovering and controlling. Maybe in real life it is all good, but reading this sounds like he was trying to buy her feelings.

Not sure this sounds like an equal partnership. Sounds like a control freak to me.

Very sad. That’s not love, that’s predominantly a business arrangement.

I have to agree with you… it looks like everything is HIS responsibility… and what about her? What’s her responsibility on the relationship?

Umm, REALLY? So, let me break this down for you by speaking in “Five Agreements”:

If you’ve heard anything about Zack in this Diary, it’s that ZERO was his focus on money and ZERO did he attempt to buy my feelings. His focus was on being the best man he could be from the literally the minute he said I love you way back at the beginning of this story when he was just a broke ass frog with big dreams. His focus was me and my daughter, who for the record, he took FULL responsibility for from day one bringing us home to that tiny apartment the morning after we got hitched in a theatre room with only two silver bands and no “carats”. Yet, in the eleven short but powerful years of our season, he managed to check off every single item on that list, such that even in his untimely death, the only jobs I will ever have to do are continue healing, take care of our daughter, and savor every day to the fullest. That is what he wanted, and that is what he’ll have. You see, my husband died a king, broken though he was, and make no mistake, regardless his accomplishments and what “things” he left behind, he was a king right from the start. Especially that night he carried my broken body, mind, and heart over the threshold of his humble home. There was no guarantee for all the promises he made, but he ALWAYS DID HIS BEST, because …

… he unconditionally loved me, as did I love him, and that’s how we became king and queen. He was not a control freak, and we were never a “business arrangement”! Lol, the only dowry he got from my family (who all but forbade me to marry him because he was BROKE) was $32k in debt, an unemployable wife who had just had a nervous breakdown and two kids. Truth being told, our partnership was anything but “equal”. WE SERVED EACH OTHER! My needs came before his, his needs came before mine, and thus the exchange of power. We shared the yoke equally, but in vastly different ways. He did his work, I did mine. We built this kingdom together, and even despite the way he left, he was and will remain a king in his own right, and I the queen who reigns proudly in his honor.

With all that now being said so “impeccably” with my words, I can’t take any of those less than impeccable words so personally. What harsh, unmerited, and assumptive judgments of how another king has chosen to cherish his queen. I say “almost”, because I am still living this very dream as a true and loving testament to the reality of his words. But you see, a fool can’t know what they don’t know if they’ve never actually walked in these shoes.

They don’t know that all Zack ever wanted was to give us everything, not just “things”. They don’t know how thankful he was to finally have a home, no matter how big or small, because he knew too well not only what it was like not to have one, but even more so how it felt to be unvalued, disregarded, and left behind. He knew how it felt to lack a single person’s unwavering blind faith in him or belief that he wasn’t the “Zack of shit” they always said he was in the life he lived before us.

All of which leads me to this last but not least “Fifth Agreement”. Of course, they’re skeptical, and of course they doubt. So much of what we hear is untrue. But these people don’t know my truth, and perhaps they never will. They don’t understand that the legacy of a great monarch is not all the treasure left behind in the trove, but “the crown and scepter they wielded in their soul” that lives on to light the paths of their kingdom infinitely.

So, instead of letting the nasty comments of truly ignorant people belittle and invalidate the integrity and intention of one of the best men, husbands and fathers this world has ever known, instead I’ll just pray that someday they too will “know what I know”, because its honestly quite sad that they don’t. God doesn’t make anything but kings and queens to rule in this realm He created, so we should love others, and especially our spouses, just as He loves us – ALL IN!

Still, what are the chances that everyone will know the treasure of a spouse that loves like this? You can lead a fly to honey, but no matter how much a bee tries to tell the fly how sweet it is, most flies have only either seen, tasted or landed on death or piles of shit. Shit is what they like because shit is all they’ve known, so, shit indeed it is. Been there. Done that. It took me almost 40 years to understand how love is supposed to “bee”, that indeed it truly exists, and that unless and until you’ve finally tasted honey – SHIT IS WHAT YOU SURVIVE ON! Damn! How did this go from kings and queens to bees, flies and SHIT? Lol. Welcome to the mind of a genius! Love me or hate me, it is what it is. If you don’t like what I have to say, not only do I not really care, but it’s also none of my BEES-ness anyway.

… and all through the land, every creature was patiently awaiting the band …

A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS TO MY AMAZING KNUCKLEHEAD FAMILY AROUND THE GLOBE … not the least of which is Ivan Moody, Chris Kael, Zoltan Bathory, Charlie Engen and Andy James. 2020 wasn’t half as bad as I suppose it could have been because of all of you! Wishing you all so much love and a POWERFUL 2021!

“Dear Mom …”

Could any two words in the history of written language EVER melt a heart so quickly as they do mine? OH, but the irony here! In case you haven’t figured it out by now, I’m a very sentimental person. It’s all those little things in my life, like the sticks, the rocks, the dried-up flowers, and love notes from my people that mean literally “everything” to me … and yes, to the best of my ability … I KEEP THEM ALL! I’ve had this love note from Gia to me and Zack resting on the typing stand on my desk since literally the day I found it waiting on my keyboard to be found as a surprise and read, “November 29, 2014”. The other one, however, I only recently found when I was shuffling through a stack of papers that were inside my desk that I wasn’t quite sure what to do with. You know the stack? “Toss it, or keep it? Hmm. I’ll just keep it and deal with it later!” Meanwhile, years later, and ya FINALLY start going through it all!

The love note from Christian (“Circa 2008”, age 16) was also left as a surprise for me to find on the keyboard of my computer when I was still living at His house with all of them. Sadly, it wasn’t too long afterwards that I’d made my final exit once and for all. And by the way, how completely crazy is it that both their notes were done in either the same or a very similar font? For the record, I chose today to publish this post because it’s “midway” between November 29th and December 18th. I just split the difference and landed here!

I’m not gonna lie, when I found Christian’s note, it tore me up pretty good, but not in the traditional “torn up” way. It was good. A river of tears flowing from my eyes at just the right time and space. It’s these precious little bits of “everything” from days gone by that remind me that although I’ve definitely had my fair share of screw ups and not-so-stellar mom moments, at the end of the day, this is what I’ve been fighting for. I carry them while they carry me forward as a Light to punctuate their dark.

In being honest, these love notes from my kids do also make me a little bit sad. That king who gave us absolutely everything never had this as a child, and that’s what eventually broke him. She shattered him into pieces and now he’s gone. Luckily, however, I can let him rest in peace knowing that he did finally have a home and “everything” to carry him through the season we were lucky enough to call him ours.

Hey, God? Thank You. No, really. THANK YOU! And hey, to my babies?

“This lightning’s gonna strike right through those hearts of yours again, ’cause this rain ain’t gonna stop, and you’ll feel every drop as they keep on dancing on your heads. But you gotta hold on … you gotta be strong … right here with me if it all goes wrong to keep you from harm … away in my arms … steer you away from the storm! When The Sun won’t come around and your world keeps washing out, I won’t let this love fall down. I’ll carry you. So, let’s run toward waiting lights, ’cause I know there’s better skies ahead. Sands through an hourglass … your floods are gonna pass … and we’ll still be standing, hand in hand!

Love, Mom

(“I’ll Carry Them“)

First of all, my sincere gratitude to the talented young artist I’ve befriended on Instagram, Ryze Black, for collaborating with me on this project. I sent her the words for which I needed a backdrop late the night with a commission:

I need a superhero looking silhouette with a cape to go with these words. Can you do that?

This picture you see is the final result and I couldn’t be happier with it! In the meantime, please don’t forget for remember that “broken kids” aren’t always kids. Sometimes we’re adults. Treat yourself kindly, with patience, love, and respect, and validate yourself in all things always! TELL THAT BROKEN KID HIDING BENEATH YOUR SKIN THAT THEY’RE TOTALLY FREAKING AWESOME AND THEY DIDN’T DESERVE TO BE BROKEN!

“Reparenting.”

It’s everything! The first day in your adult life that you’re able to show that broken kid you once were (or the kid you never got to be) some empathy, grace, unconditional love, and compassion, will be the first day of the rest of your life. I call “that day” my second birthday, and yes, my friends, I remember exactly where I was when I began the reparenting of “younger me”. It was April 8, 2008, and it truly was the beginning of who I’ve become.

Much love to all of you “broken adult kiddos” out there. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Your cape will be waiting by the mirror! Find it. Accept it. Embrace it. WEAR IT! Let it adorn your “sick of being tired” shoulders and RISE YOU UP to who you’re waiting to become … your very own superhero – YOU!

“Lord Walter The Williamson”

He’s one of the five reigning kings of my heart. Another is my God. Another is my son. Two others are now resting in peace. I am one very lucky Queen! That is all.