Mary Johnson

•August 14, 2007 • Leave a Comment

One of the most beautiful people I have ever known is Mary.  She had the purest, kindest heart.  I don’t think I ever heard her speak a negative word about a single person in the entire time I knew her.  She was childlike joy,  boundless enthusiasm, and it always seemed she had the tiniest touch of something magical in her; like a beautiful fairy fluttering about the world, randomly gracing people with sunshine that seemed to exude from her very core.  She brought me sunshine on the cloudiest, dreariest day.  She brought me great big smiles  when I felt filled with pain.  She brought me laughter from every fiber in my soul.  She was kindness in a world that felt harsh. 

I used to tease her boyfriend that I wished to be  a man so I could steal her from him.  And secretly, I wanted to be her.  She was much younger than I, but her heart was so much further evolved than mine, that I looked up to her.  I loved her, admired her, and respected her so very much that I let us grow apart.  When my own challenges and self-pity grew unbearable, I pulled away from her, thinking when I got my life together, I would just run to her and we would laugh at my “stuff” and start right back from where we left off.  She touched a place in my heart that has never been touched before.  She was my only friend who never broke my heart, stabbed me in the back, and she always made time for me.

On Thursday, August 9th 2007, she suffered a severe aneurism.  She was 19 weeks pregnant.  Hope for her to survive was minimal due to the extent of brain damage,  but the doctors said if she could hold on for 5 more weeks they could take the baby by c-section.  I  found this out on Saturday when I was having lunch at the beach with a friend.  I left lunch and drove straight to DK’s because I could not stop crying and shaking.  He offered to drive me to Grand Rapids to see her.  We went, but due to the severity of her condition and the delicate balance her survival was sitting on, the doctors required no sound at all in her room and no touching her.  Her boyfriend said I could touch her hand carefully if I wanted.  I did touch her soft tiny little hand as softly as I could and in my mind, I screamed as loudly as possible, ” I LOVE YOU, MARY!!!!!!!!!!!!  PLEASE DON’T GO!!!!!!!!!”  Over and over and over.

Yesterday, I was contacted by a family friend.  They had decided to take her off the breathing machine.  She had been doing some breathing on her own…  So, this would leave it up to her to fight or let go.  They said if you want to see her, come now.

I went immediately.  The room was full of people who adored her and if every person who treasured her could have been there, the entire hospital would have been too small.  I felt fortunate that the family allowed me in, especially since I hadn’t stayed in touch with her for awhile prior.  Everyone in there was talking about fun or funny times with Mary; talking about her incredible gift of creativity; and talking about just how truly kind she always was.  I didn’t say anything out loud, but with every story told, I could picture Mary in that conversation, or episode, or adventure and they all reminded me of my many experiences with Mary and I could not stop crying.  I could not believe I had let life come between me and this precious gift of a friend I had been blessed with in this lifetime; in so doing, I could picture the trillion joyful experiences I  had missed out on and I envied these people who shared their life with her up until the day of this horrendous tragedy.  When they started talking about the funeral plans, I could not keep it together any longer and I left the room.  I wanted to run through the halls screaming, “NO!”  I wanted to throw a big tantrum for God to let Him know just how very unhappy I was with this choice of His.  I must have not been holding it together as well as I thought, because two different nurses stopped me on my way out to ask if I was okay.  I was grateful for their kindness, but I wanted to grab them and scream, “NO, I AM NOT.  HOW CAN ANYONE ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN????? MAKE IT STOP NOW!!!”

They weren’t planning on taking her off the machine until around two in the morning.  So, I wake up today and tell myself she is fine.  The Mary I know would just fight like hell to survive.  I just know it.  Or, better yet, this was all some horrendous nighrmare that I had just woke up from and just couldn’t tell yet if it had been real or not.  It seemed so real, but I know it couldn’t be.   Mary has to be fine.  The sky would lose a million stars from the sky and the sun would never shine quite as brightly again if she left this world.  And Mary’s baby…  oh my gosh!  This world desperately needs a part of Mary running around…  Mary’s baby has to make it.

So, I don’t know what happened yet and I’m afraid to call anyone because I don’t want to bother them and it’s early morning yet.  I pray I’m contacted soon with the current status and I pray harder that there is still hope for that incredible being of light and love in this world that is Mary.

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2 of cups

•January 21, 2007 • Leave a Comment

Blessed love.  Union.  Engagement.  Marriage.

Three days now this card has come up for me online and off.  WTF???

For the love of DK

•January 20, 2007 • Leave a Comment

So emotional today about Dave.  I really hate it!  I want this to go away.  I want to be free of these feelings and memories that seem nothing but futile and yet constant and overwhelming.  I keep thinking of the last time I was with him…  He had called me to tell me that he did love me.  We talked for awhile and he ended up inviting me over.   We spooned while we slept, like we always have.  In the middle of the night, in his sleep, he lifted my hair up from the back and kissed the middle of the back of my neck, right against my hairline.  It gave me shivers because it was so very sexy and intimate, but also because he was literally asleep as he did it.  He never woke up.  I was awake, lying there, just appreciating every second that I could be close to him again.  When he did this, I really believed he loved me.  I don’t know how or why else he would do such a tender thing in his sleep.  Of course, he was with someone else the very next night and then told me two nights later that he didn’t love me at all anymore and that he had no desire whatsoever to be with me ever again.   He was sober when he said  that and had been drinking when we’d talked before, so who knows what the truth is?  And, what difference does the truth make anymore, anyway, when whatever the case, he chooses not to be with me, whether he still loves me or not.  I used to feel certain that he did still love me, but I honestly don’t know anymore.  I’m leaning toward thinking he doesn’t.

I don’t want to love him anymore.  I don’t want to miss him or hurt over him or regret so many things I should have done differently.  I want this to stop.    There is nothing I can do about it, so all this painful emotion isw just worthless and useless and just damaging me from the inside out.  I feel like pieces of my spirit, my soul, and my heart are dying every day that he’s gone. Yet, I don’t know how to make it stop.  I try to take back the power and talk myself out of it.  I try to think of how cruel he was a couple of times after we split.  I try to think of the ways he was challenging to be with sometimes.  I try to think of meeting someone else I’ll love even more.  I try to think of him having sex with other girls and telling them the same type things he tells me when he wants to have sex with me.  I try to think of how unfair he and his friends have been to me.  Nothing makes it go away.  I still have this chronic aching hole inside me that nothing can fill even for a moment.   I HATE THIS!!!!

The Chariot

•January 20, 2007 • Leave a Comment

  

The Chariot represents winning/victory  through self control and maintaining control in general.  I need to focus on this.  I called him last night, just to tell him I was thinking about him.  I wanted to do that for 3 days or so, but kept talking myself out of it.  Then, I got drunk Thursday night and of course was feeling down yesterday…hangovers will do that, ya know… and just called anyway.  I called during his work hours, so I could leave a message and wouldn’t have to talk to him directly, but still…  I am such a geek.  I totally lack will power.  Hopefully this card means I’m gaining some of that trait.  I need it!!  Or, better yet, hopefully it means I have the chance to get what I want so badly…another chance with him!  I can only hope beyond hope that one of those two things finally happens.  Something’s gotta give here.  I’m a mess.

6 of Cups

•January 18, 2007 • Leave a Comment

© Watercolors by Andreas Schröter 1995-2004.

Reunion.  Nostalgia.  Friends from the past returning.  Happy memories.

I drew this card yesterday and then again today.  It always feels strange to me when I draw the same card twice in sequential readings.  It’s as though the universe is really, really trying to show/tell me something.  It’s just completely against the odds of random chance, given the amount of cards in a tarot deck!  I love this card though, so I’m always delighted to see it.  I hope it means Dave might call sometime soon and want to talk a bit about things…  However, more than likely it’s just an indication of how much I’ve been living through memories of my past, of which I need to let go.  You never can tell, though….stranger things have happened…!

Mercy…or a lack thereof

•January 17, 2007 • Leave a Comment

Mercy.  Mercy.  Mercy…  I’m a tad resentful of this word because I feel my life has had little to no experience with mercy.  However, I strive to be merciful to any and all who at least appear to be trying to be a decent human being.  That’s my personal contingent for handing out mercy.  Ahhhhh…I am being ungrateful here.  My dad has demonstrated a great degree of mercy upon me throughout my life.  I can’t neglect to acknowledge that and express my appreciation.  Where would I be today if that hadn’t been the case and wasn’t still today?  Gosh, it’s horrible to imagine!

I wonder if there is a directly proportionate relationship between our ability to forgive and accept ourselves and the amount of mercy we qare given in life?  I freely admit that I have incredibly high standards and expectations of the people on this planet, yet none are any higher than the expectations I hold for myself.  I also seem to lack the ability to make excuses for my behaviors and/or errors.  I cannot shirk responsibility for these things or I understand that my ability to grow and expand as a human drastically dimishes.  Therefore, is this the “unconcious” standard others hold for me because some can sense that I will always take responsibility and attempt to use such errors to further develop myself?  Is this the reason for the lack of mercy and forgiveness from people in my life?  I wonder this because most everyone I know typically “excuses away” any and all of their mistakes and not only that, but they seem to believe their excuses are  valid and actually negate any errors or damage they may have done.  I’m missing this gene.  I’m also sadly missing that blame gene, where we do whatever we want and if it’ hurtful or damaging, then we blame it on some one, any one else.  The world today lacks a depth of commitment, a base integrity, and the ability to take responsibility for one’s actions.

I am certainly not perfect….hell, far, far from it.  Yet, I do take responsibility for my actions and the ramifications of my choices onto my life and others’ lives and although that responsibility is heavy at times, I feel it’s the only way to keep evolving into the best I can be.  As long as people deny responsibility and shift blame away from themselves, our world will not progress morally or peacefully. 

Gandhi said it best, “Be the change you want to see in the world.”  If we all chose to start with that practice alone,  the world would start a drastic change toward the positive.

Stalking

•January 16, 2007 • Leave a Comment

It’s 8:44!!!!!!!!!   OMG……this is crazy!!

On the way home from driving kids to school, I heard my all time favorite country song “He Stopped Loving Her Today”.  It’s so stereotypically sappy-ass country, but it’s such a beautiful concept for the romantic-at-heart.  It’s been my favorite country song since I was very young….maybe like 4 or 5 years old?  So, I hear it and I wonder if that’s a message telling me Dave doesn’t love me anymore,  that Dave will always love me, or that I won’t stop loving him until I die?  Or was it just a freaking song played on the radio at that moment in time and there’s nothing “bigger” to it?  And because I heard that song and started thinking even more about him than usual, then of course, I have to take the route home that goes by his house.  I guess I’m trying to be a stalker here…? 

Speaking of the word stalker, I have to say that I am sick to death of this word/accusation being made so casually these days.  Guys seem to enjoy using it frequently to label anyone who likes them that they maybe don’t like in return or that they don’t particularly want that person to like them.  Freaking absurd!  Stalking is a serious, dangerous crime.  It’s not calling someone two days in a row or even calling them forty times in one dayStalking is an obsessive following of a person who also has a deranged idea of ownership of said person.  Also, in my opinion, it is only literal stalking, if that person doing these things is willing and capable to use any information or opportunity discovered to inflict physical (or maybe emotional?) harm to the person.  The concept of stalking mandates that there be some intent to cause harm to the person stalked.  Someone liking you more than you like them and pursuing you more than you’d like, is NOT stalking.  That’s nothing more than an aggressive person with a crush.  There are people who have been killed – their life ended – by stalkers!  I strongly feel the chronic over-use of this term and used so inappropriately greatly belittles how seriously dangerous this behavior is or can be.  It is only stalking if your life or health is actually in danger from a person.  Forty phone calls is certainly obsessive and I,  personally, would definitely find it annoying, uncomfortable, and unattractive.  However, it does not a-stalker-make or anything even close to it.  Over-using this term makes it difficult to comprehend the actual danger involved in this crime.  It also makes people tend to take the significance of it far less seriously, which is a shame and a serious mistake.  It would be like if I lost a quarter and someone picked it up and I started screaming, “Thief….mugger!!!”  If we started labelling that type of incident as a mugging, what about the unfortunate people who are held up at gunpoint and robbed of everything in their possession?  If we defined it this loosely, then in time, people would tend to see mugging as far less tragic and traumatic than it actually is.

9:09!!!!!!    Anyway, so, according to today’s very loosely used term stalking, I guess I am stalking my ex boyfriend.  I intentionally took the route home today that goes right by his house and I did it for two reasons.  One, because I was thinking about him and two, because I was curious to see if he might have company.  And knowing that regardless of the answer to that second reason, I would have done nothing at any rate, then I feel this is mere nosiness.  Yes, I am nosy as hell when it comes to who and what my ex is doing!  I wouldn’t, can’t, and don’t even want to do a damned thing about it regardless, but I still want to know… just to freaking know!  Guilty.  Yup. 

So,  for any of you who might want to label me as a deranged stalker because of this, then I suggest you join the rest of us in the real world, use your dictionary, do some research, and/or please refrain from using words of accusation which you cannot define accurately or use properly in a sentence.