Things that make me smile

I originally posted this in 2007... I feel the need to smile again.

All photographs copyrighted by: Rachelle Black

Today I thought I would share with you some things that make me smile. I hope you enjoy them, and, perhaps something will bring a smile to your face as well!
Pay it forward.

My husband- because after 14 years, he still can make me laugh out loud, and visa-versa

Where we live- could we be any luckier??

Sunsets- because they show us each and every day that God cherishes us enough to paint us a new picture every evening.

Rainbows- need I say more?

Funny faces - tee-hee "O solo mio...." :))

Flowers- to remind me that there is beauty all around, if we take the time to see it.

ALPACAS! Remind me that we are stewards over all creatures great and small

And last but certainly not least- Children.

To remind us that within the heart of a child, is the promise of tomorrow. And to remind us to live in the moment, love without fear, and laugh- loudly and as often as possible.

Till next time

Slainte~ Rachelle

What about Thanksgiving?

It's now November. Halloween is over and if you didn't know better, you might think Christmas is the next major holiday.

But it's not. Thanksgiving is. What happened to Thanksgiving? I know, I know, there aren't any twinkling lights and presents attached to it. Turkeys aren't as cute as elves, and Pilgrims are definitely a step down from Santa Claus.
Don't get me wrong, I love Christmas, but what about Thanksgiving?

What happened to this holiday? It seems to have been lost in the shuffle. Redeposited where old outdated holidays go I suppose. Like Veteran's Day- when we used to have a parade every year when I was growing up. Like George Washington and President Lincoln's birthdays, now we just have "Presidents Day".
Like the Fourth of July is now just a day when we watch fireworks. Don't mention patriotism, don't you know... it's verboten.

I am thankful that I live in the USA. For the men and women who have died for my freedom. For my family members who have served, or are currently serving in the following armed forces: 2 National Guardsman, 1 Army Ranger, 1 Airforce pilot, 2 Navy, 1 Marine. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for putting yourself in harms way daily so that my family can enjoy the freedom we do.

Well, I for one want to remember this holiday. The Pilgrims came and settled here to escape religious persecution and to have the freedom to believe as they wanted without fear.
I am thankful for them.



I am thankful for a loving Heavenly Father, who is kind and forgiving, and through whom all things are possible. Including, but not limited to, the miracle that is my sobriety.

I am thankful for my church, which provides me with the opportunity to meet twice a week with outstanding young women like these above. I am a young woman leader in my church and it has been my privilege to associate with these shining examples of our future, and watch them grow. I only hope I can learn all they have to teach me before I die.

I am thankful for the little things in life. Naps and cats, soft beds and food to eat. A roof over my head, and clothing for my children.

I am thankful for the beauty that is around us. For nature's dance that we are a witness to every day. For glorious color and diversity.

I am thankful for all of God's creatures, great and small. For the chance to have saved this Monarch and the opportunity to be a part of her glorious emergence from sleep into this winged fairy creature.

I am thankful for my family, who has saved my life on more than one occasion. For my daughter, whose grace and beauty still take my breath away. For her kind and loving nature, for her extraordinary courage which amazes me daily. I am thankful for her sweet spirit and for how she stands up for what's right- no matter the cost. And she makes me laugh, oh she makes me laugh...

I am thankful for my husband, see him on the right? He is like Chaucer- a trudger. He is the hardest working man I know. I am thankful for his willingness to do anything he needs to for his family. Including taking a job in the fast food industry at age 50 to ensure that we have food on the table. For his dedication and love to his oh-so-less-than-perfect-wife. I love you...

I am thankful for my son. That's him on the right with the nunchuks. For his strength, the way he makes me laugh until I cry, and for his valiant spirit. For the way he keeps going, even though the road is a hard one. For his incredible talent in music, and how when I am going through a difficult time, he will bring out his acoustic guitar and just play for me... all of the songs he knows I love.

I am thankful for my parents. I have learned so much from them, and I would not trade them in for the world. Through good times and the not so good times, I love my father. I am proud of my mother and her dedication to her temple work. I am thankful for her, and so glad she is in my life.

I am thankful for my dog. One look into his eyes reminds me just what unconditional love is supposed to be. For knowing when I need a hug, and for always, always loving me- no matter what.

And I am thankful for my friends. You know who you are. The ones who support me through the good and the bad, and the ugly. The ones who make me want to be a better person. I don't know what I would do without my friends I have in my life, both in my church and outside of it. I have been buoyed up again and again by their strength, their determination, their courage in overcoming what seem to be at times insurmountable challenges.

I have come to love and rely on those friends never met in person...

I am thankful for you!

Slainte~
Rachelle

The Interview

All photographs copyrighted by Wyatt & Rachelle Black 2007

So, I am so busy right now I though I'd just repost this interview from my dear friend Shrinky, (you can meet her at http://www.shrinky1.blogspot.com/ ( I love you Girl!!)

I promise to write a new and, er, fascinating post real soon, in the meantime- here goes!

Slainte~

Rachelle


Carol: Hello bonny lass,

Where are you hoofing it off to then? No fair, you were only gone a little while back ago, I'm only just recovering from the last time you up and left (abandonment issues) . Any-hows, thought I'd try and pose a few questions to make your brain bleed. (And don't flip the finger at the computer, I can still see you, you know!) Alright, pretend you still smoke and inhale deeply, here we go..
Good luck, bonny lass, I look forward to a good read! x

1) A nice, easy one to start, to lull you in to a false sense of security. I know both of your children are very musical, but I am intrigued as to how they discovered such a love of Celtic music. Is it in their blood?

Here they are both playing the Irish whistle together. They both play several different instruments in their Celtic group.

Well, certainly it is on their blood! :)) I am a Morrison by birth, and have researched my family line for my da who is just figuring it all out! LOL..... but I have always loved Celtic music, I played the piano as a child, composition, theory, performing, the whole ball of wax.
I tried to expose both of them to many different types of music while they were growing up, and hence they both have very diverse musical tastes. Cameron was my first, and he showed a very early aptitude for all things musical. His nickname is "Velcro Boy" for his ability to pick up an instrument, hear a tune, then commit it to memory and go on to play it perfectly. Codi has had to work a little harder, but she has a very good ear and has taught herself the fiddle and the flute. No small feat!

When an opportunity came up for my kids to join a Celtic group while learning their new instruments at that time (Irish whistle and guitar), we jumped at it, and it inspired me to learn how to play the fiddle. Which I do, very poorly LOL!! The kids have been in their group for 5 years now, and have won several awards for their efforts. My daughter also sings in a classic rock group, and my son plays guitar and drums in both a classic rock group, and in his High School Drumline. They took second place in their division this year!
As they grow older, they are interested in branching out beyond their Celtic roots, but they still hold a deep love for the music. It truly is beautiful and touches their hearts. As their little Celtic group has sort of dissapated this last year, as a family we have committed to continuing our learning, with me picking up the Bodhran to accompany them.

2) Are both of your parents still alive? Together? Can you reconcile your childhood experiences with your mother as she is today - was she a different person then, was it her illness that made her do the things she did, or do you feel she still could have made better choices?


Wow, well here goes- but remember, you asked for it!! Yes, they are both alive still. They were married young, childhood sweethearts from a troubled youth filled with boarding homes and foster care. They had my sister, who is much older than me. Then they divorced, and married other people. My father had 4 children with Maureen, his second wife. Two of them were little boys who didn't live beyond two days. The other two were my brother and sister, Jeff and Cindy.
My mother meanwhile, had no children with Ken, but formed a lifetime friendship with him and his subsequent family that lasted through the years, in fact just last week Ken died, and mo mom was there for the funeral.
Then they both got divorced from their respective mates, and they remarried each other.
They had me, and then as a last ditch effort to save their failing marriage, they had my little brother.
When I was 11 years old and my brother 5, they divorced again. My father remarried a woman just 6 months later, who had 8 children........ go figure.
My mother had a breakdown, and didn't remarry until 1990, when she met my Poppa- whom I believe saved her life.
My father has apologized many times over the years for not being there when I was a child, and has tried to make it up, we have a very nice relationship now.

Whew..... so, there it is in a nutshell.

Mother was a very different person then from who she is now. She really didn't have the skills to be a parent, and then she was forced to be one alone for years. Combine that with her fragile mental state, and her drug dependancy and she didn't stand a chance. For many years I was angry, just plain mad. It wasn't until I got sober, and had my son Cameron, that I was able to get to a place in my heart where I could even have a relationship with her. And she certainly had a lot of soul searching to do herself when she finally realized just how screwed up my life was. I don't know, could she have made better choices? I think yes, and no. Sometimes when we are so sick, we can't do anything but keep our heads above water. But also, I know as a mother, we always have choices. No matter how mad I was, I made the choice NOT to beat my children. And to get help when I needed it.
So, what it comes down to is the fact that we can't change the past, no matter how much we might want to. All we can do is live for the future, and in my future there is a mother whom I love, and accept for who she is. And I am glad. We are still learning about each other, and every year the layers peel back to reveal new secrets that we then shake out into the fresh air, and then discard- never looking back at them again. It is the only way I have found I can go on with her.


3) How did your older brother's death affect you?


Wow, aren't pulling any punches are you? :))
Okay.... well my brother committed suicide when I was only 15 years old, he was 21. He hadn't been living at home for a while, he was in Utah. I got a call from my mother while I was at a friend's house, playing quarters as a matter of fact.... drinking Schlitz malt liquor and getting plastered. I came home to find my mother in the house with all the drapes pulled, pitch black. She was Jeff's "California Mom" and she loved him dearly, and had helped to raise him. She told me my brother had died. She didn't want to tell me how, but eventually she did. I was only told he killed himself with a gun.
For about 10 years after his death- I got no more information than that. I was not allowed to go to his funeral, to this day I have never been to his gravesite.
My father refused to talk about Jeff. He couldn't even speak his name. So I lived with a hole in my heart that couldn't even begin to heal until I was an adult and finally got all the details from my older sister, who couldn't believe I didn't know anything.
Already barely keeping my own head above water, this I believe, just pushed me under for many years. I wrote a poem in the 8th grade about him, but the undercurrents of loss and grief never truly went away.
There is other history there with him that I am unable to share with everyone, but suffice it to say, it only compounded the issues I had to deal with upon his death.
My mother, who at this time wasn't beating me much anymore but was totally unable to cope with me as a teenager, couldn't turn to my father (whom she had never gotten over losing) so she just shut me out completely. I had no one to turn to, so I turned to alcohol and drugs even more than I had before. I dropped out of high school to take full time ROP and moved out when I was 16.
When I finally was given all the bits and pieces of his life and the tragedy that he brought upon himself, I had to learn to forgive him. Hard to forgive someone who is dead. But I have, and I look forward to hugging him someday beyond the veil, and telling him that I love him, so very much.


4) You have a dear, gentle brother who lives with autism, and from reading both of your blogs I know how close he is to you. What impact has he had on your life?

Well, my sister and I tease him about being "The Golden Child" because he missed out on mom when she was completely out of control, but there were plenty of times I had to protect him from goings on in our home. I always felt like he was mine, I think that sense of responsibility started before he was even born. From the day of his birth I took him under my arm and as long as I lived at home, I took care of him and made sure he was safe from all the craziness as much as I could. As an adult I have been his advocate during many court procedures and fights he has had to go through to receive benefits due him. I guess I am a little overprotective :))
Jamey makes me want to be a better person. His kindness and gentle nature inspire me to desire more from myself. He helped shape me as a protector of those who who can't speak for themselves. Something I have carried on in my career choice through my whole life.
I can't imagine a world without him in it, or a world where he isn't exactly as he is.

5) If money were no object, how would you like to spend your life - you can by-pass all the charity work, we'll take that as read. AFTER you have saved the planet, what then?

hmmmm...... hard to think beyond saving the planet, you know me too well!!
I think I would live in the country, somewhere in Utah or Montana I think, with my family.
I would send my children to Juliard. Make sure my hubby never had to work again.
I would have every kind of animal I have ever wanted, and I would take in every stray dog or cat I could. Then I would be a foster mother. For infants born to alcoholic or drug addicted parents. I would love them, care for them, and if possible ready them for adoption. Of course, I would adopt all those no one wanted.
I would buy a house for my mother, brand new with everything she wanted. I would buy a house for my brother and Giselle.
Then I would send my dad to Schick to make him stop smoking...... kidding!
I would travel to Ireland and Scotland, and then stop by the Island of Mann to visit my dear friend there.
Hire a housecleaner!!!!!
I think that's enough, don't you? *wink*
Thanks for the interview dear, I hope you all enjoyed a deeper look into my sordid past -ha-ha-
Slainte~
Rachelle

Happy Anniversary!

To Me!! Okay, and my husband :))

To my soulmate, the one who has loved me through thick and thin - that would be waistlines...

For richer and for poorer...... wait a minute, for poorer and poorer.

Through good times and bad,

Happiness and sadness;

Who brought me these lovely flowers.... second time this year, I am in shock! This from a man who in 12 years has given me flowers five times..... total....

He is finally getting it!! Huzzah!! :))

Who, even when times get tough, and we have had our share of tough times over the years, still makes me laugh, cry, and feel beautiful- although I don't know how he pulls that one off still.

Whom I love to just sit and talk with, for hours..... still.

Who is man enough to admit to imperfection. Who was able to take the terribly damaged child within me and make her feel safe and unafraid. Who helped me realize, finally, that not all men were predators.

Who took me in with my two little children after a horrible and dangerous failed marriage and made me feel worthy of love again. Then became the father my children never had. While putting up with my crazy ex and his death threats..... sheesh.....

Wyatt, I love you.

Happy Anniversary!

Two days of Terror....

Well, it has certainly not been a boring summer.....

Here's the latest in my life. Saturday dawned like any other summer day, hot and clear. My son and I were going down to Bakersfield to see Harry Potter, and pick up the new book. Since I had already seen it with my daughter, she was going to stay home by herself.

Wyatt was in L.A. at the temple, and wasn't due back until about 4:30 pm. He was unreachable by phone. Codi's friend Olivia was here after spending the night, and we were going to take her home on the way to Bako.

It was 11:30 am, and we were about to leave. The house had been open to catch the morning coolness.... we never close all the windows in the summer, we have a deep fear of fire, and smelling smoke is always our first warning.

Until Saturday. I came out from the back of the house to get my purse, and smelled smoke. I went outside, and the entire canyon was billowing with smoke. I stood there in shock. Every time we have had a fire nearby, and there have been many over the years, I have smelled smoke long before it has gotten close. We start the fire chain here with our neighbors, and we have plenty of time to act. This time it was right below us before anyone in the canyon caught it. There was no wind....

The fire below our neighbor's place immediately below us, and the brave pilot.

Immediately I went into controlled panic mode. The first thing I thought of was watering around the house and the pens, like we always do..... but we have no water. Okay, a little more panic and less control here.....

Got the kids, told them to get the animal carriers and round up the animals. Told them to pack their emergency bags - quickly. Called my neighbor with the extra trailer she said we could use, she didn't answer. Called my friends in Frazier Park and asked them to locate a trailer for the animals. I was crying when I talked to Jackie, I was terrified. With only me and the kids home, it was all up to us to do everything, without strong dad- with my back...... Our trailer is big enough for five animals, and we can put four or five in the back of the truck in the camper- but only if the car is here to load up the kids, dogs, cats, and our emergency bags, and pictures.....

First and foremost, my family.

Having been through a few scares with fires, the kids are now pros at packing their emergency bags. Everyone knew this was different though, the fire was right here, not something seen in the distance. We got the female pacas up in the front of the 'safe pen' in preparation for the boys to take the lower half. The safe pen is the one in the middle, with no big oak trees nearby to burn.

Thank God our friends were able to get here in time. Right after they arrived, they closed the road to our canyon and didn't let anyone up. Jackie and her husband Brian, and their son Brady came with their big Yukon and a carrier trailer. No, it wouldn't hold my animals, it was a slat sided flatbed. I called the fire department while I was waiting for them, and the lady on the other end said, yes, they were evacuating Digier Canyon.... wait, no they weren't? Just a minute, she said..... no, they were not evacuating at this time, but to be ready, they were in fact fighting three fires in the area. If the Sheriff and CHP showed up, we would have to leave immediately.

So, I had to decide. Who would go with us?

The fire as it crept up the left side of the canyon and along the ridge, closer to our house.

It was a given, the four cats, the two dogs, but which alpacas? We have 22 right now. I had a two day old cria, and one pregnant female due this fall. The stress caused by transporting them was a serious concern. Taking a new baby to another ranch would expose her to all kinds of bacteria she would be weak against at her age. I started my ranch evacuation phone chain. But no one was home. There was no answer at any of the four ranches I called near me. In the mean time, the fire is creeping closer and closer.... and the wind was picking up. Blowing right up the canyon towards our home. Codi's friend was very scared.

The phone was ringing madly. I had my cell phone in one hand, and the walkabout in the other, talking on both at the same time. Calls from friends in the area who heard there was a fire, could we see it?? Boy, I had to laugh.... yup, I said. Then a call from a friend very close by, we could take the alpacas to her place and put them in the backyard if we had to. Relief.... not a perfect solution, but far better than having nowhere to take them.

Our neighbor above called us and offered her six horse trailer. She has wild mustangs, and said she would not be able to get them out, we had first dibs on the trailer if we wanted it.... my heart leapt and said yes! I could get everyone out then! But then, I had second thoughts, what if she really needed it?? I said I'd get back to her. She assured me she wouldn't need it, but I felt differently. Bless her heart.

Then the phone rang, it was my friend who lived up in Lockwood with alpacas. She said she had been sick and was sleeping when I called, of course I could bring the pacas to her place. Relief....

The smoke through the trees

It was decision time. I had to decide who I was going to take, and who would have to stay behind. At a time like this, you have two forces driving the decision making process. Your head, and your heart. My heart said I couldn't possibly leave my boys behind. My head said the girls were by far the most valuable and had to go first. If there was time, I would come back and get the boys. If there was time...

Brian was great, he said, "Rachelle, tell us what to do, and we'll do it." So, I did. We took all the cats in their carriers, and all the bags, guitars, and the computer modem out of my truck and out them in his and in their trailer, freeing up space for alpacas in my truck. I had to decide what to take out of the house. What do you take? I looked around my house with a feeling of complete exhaustion.... what did I want to take? It was only two hours later, but it felt like many, many hours had passed... The pictures on the walls came down and were loaded. The handful of loose pictures I had in my room were packed. Where were the rest of the pictures? The ones of my precious children when they were babies? They weren't in albums, that was something I had always said I'd do later, why didn't I???
The scaredy cat we couldn't find, she had to stay in the house. Tears.

Then we waited...... We watched the fire as it burned along the top of the ridge, then raced down the canyon wall towards our home. We watched the brave pilots maneuver throughout our narrow canyon. It was amazing. The boys went up by the water tank with shovels and caught the burning ashes, smothering them with dirt before they could spark a blaze. We could hear the crackling of the flames now.

Codi's friend was terrified. I shared with her that I had prayed, and in my heart I knew we would be okay, that after my prayer, a feeling of calm came over me, that I knew WE would be okay, safe.

Then the fire trucks arrived to protect the house. The fireman asked me what we planned to do. My heart sick, I asked him what he would do. He said if it were his home, he would leave, and leave now.
So, no more time. They started working around the house, planning their strategy for saving our home. We loaded up the girls, I kissed them and told them to be calm.

We moved all the boys into the safe pen, the firemen agreed it was the best place for them.
We moved my two llamas up to the pen connected to the house. We left the chickens. We left the scaredy cat. We left the water turtle in the house. We left 13 male alpacas, my nanny llama lady, my precious boys..... and our home. I knew we would be safe, but what about them?

Jackie asked me if there was anything else I wanted to take..... I remember looking around and saying, it's only stuff, right?

My daughter and I cried together, and..... we left.

The burn along the canyon wall to the left and below the boy's pens.

We drove out to Lockwood Valley to drop off the girls. After getting them all unloaded, I remember being unable to think. It was complete and utter stupor of thought. Brian asked me if we were going to come to their house. Several folks had graciously offered their places to us, and I had scatterbrainedly said yes to about three of them, while talking with 911 on the other phone, you know.

I just started crying, I said "I can't leave my new baby! What if something happens to her? Where will you put the cats? I think I'm going to take the cats and dogs and go home." I wasn't thinking very clearly, obviously. And I said so. From then on Brian took charge. He said, "You're coming to our house. We'll put the cats in the garage, the dogs in the yard, and you inside." And so we did.

The burn to the left of our house, as it ran up the draw and back over the ridge.

I spent about half an hour calming down our big fat cat Shadow (AKA- Fat Boy) who is about 12 years old, and never been away from home. He had ropey strands of saliva, had thrown up, and was breathing with his mouth open, totally stressed. He calmed down in my lap, we both did.

My neighbor had to use her trailer. I knew it.

Finally, Wyatt called. He was frantic. He got on the phone with our neighbors below, and called me back. He said, "I just talked with Bill and Shelly, the fire burnt half the house." !!?? What!! I screamed.

The burn as the fire got sneaky and came back over the ridge behind our house.

Wyatt said, "The fire burnt past the house!" Relief.

Long story, I know. The end is short. The house is fine. The boys are fine. We dodged a big bullet. When we returned we found that the fire had gone up the draw to the left of our house when it got to the "V". If it had gone up the right, we would have lost everything. Blessings.

We watch the skies for smoke, and sleep a little lighter. We don't leave the house alone.

My family is safe. The girls are home. My baby is fine, as is the pregnant female due in September. Here they are:

Lessons learned. Picture organization, now! Prayer works! Thank God for good friends!! We love our firemen!!

Thank God for you! I love you all!

Slainte~
Rachelle

The road to peace.....

Starts one step at a time.

The weekend brought many tidings. We found out why the little preemie died. See, it's not too bad being a preemie, there are things you can do to help them continue to develop and grow, just like with humans. Sometimes they are just too early, but she was only 2 days outside the general 'safe time' rule so we wondered what went wrong. She was doing well the first two hours, but then she crashed. Why? Was it the feeding I gave her? Did she aspirate? Was it my fault? Was it a genetic problem?

Well, the necropsy showed a rupture of the umbilical artery. It would have happened the minute she was born, and she just bled to death. Not my fault. Not genetic- just a product of being too early. Relief? Um, a double edged sword.... Yes, I am relieved I didn't cause her death,

it was tearing me apart wondering.

Each alpaca on our ranch is known, each loved for their own individual personalities, likes and dislikes. Every year we plan carefully each breeding, then we wait a minimum of 335 days to see the results of our planning. When we lose a cria, it is completely devastating. Whenever we have a loss we wonder what happened, and I always blame myself. It doesn't matter that in each case it wasn't anything we did wrong- when you are Rachelle, that's what you do, you blame yourself.

As I go through my life, I try to take something from every experience- no matter how horrible, scary or tragic. Something positive, or what has been more likely in my life, a hard lesson learned. What I haven't learned yet, no matter the trial or tribulation, is how to find peace. Today as I visited with my girl, she taught me how to forgive myself for not being perfect, omniscient and for not having the power to resurrect the dead. She told me she still loves me, and doesn't blame me. By her kisses, her warm breath on my cheek, and by nudging me with her hip so I would scratch her itchy spot.

I think the road to peace is a long one- the journey difficult, and paved with obstacles that sometimes seem insurmountable. Today I am one step closer. Perhaps tomorrow I might take two steps back, but eventually- I will move forward again.

As our family spent the day together yesterday, I was reminded of how wonderful a happy day can be. It's been a long time, a very long time it seems since I had a truly happy day. Seems like such a simple thing! But as adults, we seem to complicate life to the point of absurdity.

We trivialize that which we should cherish, and insist on growing up too fast.

Laughing, sharing, making stupid jokes.... my baby brother brought me a copy of "Sesame Street Old School" and I watched, laughing and remembering taking Jamey into the spare room to watch Sesame Street while our parents argued, again. Stealing a moment of joy midst chaos.

Yesterday I let the child within out. The one who was forced to be grown up when she was eight years old, not allowed to laugh or be ridiculous. Who blamed herself for things entirely beyond her control and tried to 'fix' everything, please everyone. Now releasing her to play, laugh and be silly- without inhibitions. It was wonderful.

Jamey and my favorite chicken- Henny Penny

Left to right, front: My stepmother Karen, brother Jamey, and my dad.

Back: Daughter Codi, Jamey's girlfriend Giselle, son Cameron.

I think the fastest way to peace is through the eyes of a child. What do you think?

Slainte~
Rachelle

What dreams may come

In May it will be two years since my best friend died.
It used to be I would dream of her waving at me in passing, like she was letting me know she was still around, not to worry.
It has been quite a while since my last dream of her. I don't cry every day anymore, or when someone mentions her name, or when I think of her family left behind.

Sometimes grief will sneak up behind me and grab hold of my throat, choking me when I least expect it. Like a couple of weeks ago at church when a speaker started talking about how good she was. Then I break down and start to sob. It all comes back to me in a rush, oh yea, she is gone, she won't be coming back...... I do still miss her.

I haven't been sleeping well these last few nights. Having some health struggles of my own right now, I am on some new medication and it is interfering with my sleep patterns. As I have mentioned before, I dream in living color. Big, bold, save the world dreams where I have to be the hero or watch the entire human race go down in flames. Lately my dreams have been particularly heart wrenching.

I dreamed that it was, in fact, the end of the world. Everyone was running towards these bunkers and there was chaos and screaming. Fleeing from some nameless terror vaguely familiar and seen just around the edges, perhaps from the corner of your eye, we ran pell mell.

Upon arriving in one of the bunkers, I looked around me and realized how few we were in numbers. Bunched into furtive groups, some hiding in fear from the faceless enemy, some hiding their evil human nature away, biding their time to feed upon the few valiant left in the world. Some exhibited a newfound suspiciousness of one another, "Are you one of them?" their eyes asked. Or one who seeks to take advantage of these treacherous times? Sheltering their children from other's eyes.

I came to understand my family wasn't with me. I ran from bunker to bunker searching frantically. One such bunker housed Satan worshipping minions. Formerly afraid to boast of their religion, relegated to hiding and secrecy in the past, they openly revelled in this new world and blatantly flaunted their evil natures- posting large banners proclaiming their beliefs and their intent to take over the souls of those left behind to rebuild a decent, upstanding society.

I stated my intent to these robed and hooded faceless entities, to remain valiant, and bravely, with great fear in my heart, stood up to proclaim that good would indeed conquer evil in the end. I remember the fear....

Searching for hours, I found no trace of my family. I peered into one bunker and recognized a family I knew. They too were short members of their family. They stressed to me that they had not seen my daughter or son, and I left bereft.

In the next bunker I came to, I saw my daughter from behind. It was her! Her hair, the shape of her silhouette, backlit by sun streaming in the window. My heart rejoiced, at last! I ran to embrace her and the young woman turned to me.... it wasn't her. I crumpled to the floor in despair. I sobbed, and screamed, tearing at my hair for I simply knew I would never find her, or any of my other family members. I was alone.

I awoke with my eyes puffy, crying my heart out. I went back to sleep only to relive the last few moments of my dream, over and over again. Waking each time to find myself weeping and feeling that terrible ache in my heart that convinced me it was not a dream. Unable to fully awaken, unable to try and search further, to alter the ending of the dream, destined to return again and again to the same place and relive that awful realization over and over again- I despaired of ever feeling whole again.

Finally I was able to break the cycle and awaken fully. Rushing to my daughter's room I sat at her bedside forever stroking her face and reassuring myself that it was, in fact, only a dream. On to my son's room for the same routine.

As I write this, I weep again, so powerful was this dream.

What was it? A horrible premonition of some event to come? An underlying fear of loss that is buried in my subconscious and manifesting itself in my dreams? That's what the experts say happens anyway.... Everyone knows that a mother's most powerful fear is the loss of a child. But what purpose does a dream like this serve?

--sigh-- I wish I could just sleep, only sleep.

Last night I dreamed of my friend Jane. She was standing on the edge of, well..... something. I ran to her and hugged her tightly. Telling her how much I loved her, and how much I admired her. Knowing she was going to die, I expressed my desire to be able to do something, anything to help her. I couldn't tell her that she was going to die, so I was trying to find some way to just do something to help.

I don't know if I meant to prevent her death, or to help her prepare for it, or even if it was a simple wish to help her family afterwards deal with such a terrible loss. All I know is that she hugged me back, and that I knew I had let her know how much I loved her..... before she was gone. Maybe this dream was her way of telling me that she knew it all along.

Regrets, yup, I've got them. I learned a powerful lesson with the loss of my friend. Tell people you love them, admire them, treasure them every day, while you can.

For days after my dream about losing my family, I had to stop and hug my daughter. The feelings of hopelessness I felt coming back fully every time I saw her face.

I have to wonder, what purpose do dreams of the apocalyptic kind serve? To remind me to strengthen my faith for trials ahead? To serve as a reminder of the fragility of mortal life? I don't know.

Maybe it's just hormones.... ha-ha.

Till next time my friends.

Slainte~

Rachelle