Crying in my sleep....

Did you ever have a dream about something sad and wake up to realize that you're crying in your sleep? It happened to me last night and, I've got to tell you, I'm not such a big fan.

The dream was very odd and went like this:

I had made a custom piece of furniture for my dad; a book case. Not just ANY book case but a beautiful case with a curved top and embellishments at the crown. It was a beauty. I was bringing it to my dad, who was supposedly at my childhood home but about 3 miles from the house my car broke down. So here I stand, on the side of the road, with this HUGE piece of furniture, trying to catch a ride...car after car passes me and no one stops. I begin to walk, carrying this huge book case on my back and suddenly, a man pulls up on his motorcycle. He says his name is "Jacob" and that he's going to give me a ride to my parent's house. Elated, I hop on the back of the bike and somehow share space with this HUGE book case and we're off! We arrive at my parent's house which appears to look as it did the last time I saw it, run down and unkempt. I run up to the front door, SO excited to show my daddy what I had made for him and when I throw open the door I'm not in THEIR house, I'm in MINE. The house appears identical to my house except for just a few pieces of missing furniture, and when I run in calling my dad's name, I see my mom standing in my front, screened in porch; she's wearing a nightgown, a robe and her slippers. Her hair is combed and she's wearing her glasses....JUST as she always did. At the very moment we lock eyes I realize, in shock, that I had forgotten that my dad had died. He wasn't there anymore and I began to sob. Hugging my mother I'm sobbing uncontrollably and telling her that I don't want him to be dead...that I can't believe that I had forgotten that he had died.

That's when I woke up...and lying there, in the dark, I was sobbing. In my sleep.

So I lay there for a little while and calmed myself down. Then I tried to figure out what exactly the message was....and I just don't know. Now, recently there have been quite a few conversations, if you will, about my childhood and some of the more traumatic events therein which could possibly BE the reason for this dream. Was it? I distinctly remember the feeling within the realization that my dad was gone and my mom was standing there holding me in trying to comfort me *which is something my mother NEVER did* And, just so you know, my dad passed away in October of 2000, and my mom passed in December of 2007. My mom appeared to be in my home, as it is today - not as it was when she died.

So several hours pass and when my husband and I wake up, I tell him about this strange dream...and the tears roll again. What IS that, exactly? What is my subconscious/the Universe trying to TELL me? I'm trying to listen but I can't hear either of them. I just pray for a peaceful nights' sleep tonight with NO more dreams like this one.

Who am I?

So...here I am again....this time not quite sure where this blog will take me but eager to get this out.

After something that I consider to be wonderful happened in my life last Monday, I received a message from someone that, once I read it, made me feel as if I was about to face another loss. I can't explain the details; but it felt as if my heart was being broken again.

So I'm sitting and trying to see the 'light' in all that surrounds me and who I am and the question enters my mind of who I really am....when I try to define who I think I am, every description is about what I DO rather than who I am. The reality hits me that I have NO IDEA who I REALLY am. I am the first mom looking for her son. I am the Life Coach that helps people change their lives. I am the mother of 2 amazing daughters. I am the wife of a sometimes troubled man. I am the friend of anyone that considers me to be so. I am an advocate of animals, a lover of Mother Earth, a believer that God is an amazing form of true and complete love...and the list goes on. But who AM I? Really?

I am the girl that has no recollection of what my body looked like before it became distorted by a teen-aged pregnancy and spent the majority of her life feeling ashamed of her body because of the damage done by deciding to give birth to a child that I knew would never know me as his mom or know the sacrifices I had made so that he could live. I am the girl that has very few memories of anyone actually acting loving towards me in the family I grew up in. I am the girl whose father would tell her each and every morning just how ugly he thought she was. I am the girl that worries about what's best for others and pushes my own needs aside.

Is THAT who I am? How DO we define ourselves? I know that I have a huge heart that's been broken more times than I care to count; even by some that had no idea that they could even do so. I know that I am smart and strong and capable of ANYTHING that I put my mind to. I know that I am a survivor in that I've survived not only a very un-loving childhood but the loss of my son, whom I loved dearly even though we had not even met yet. I know that I am fiercely protective of anyone that I love because I never felt protected growing up and will never allow anyone or anything that I love EVER feel alone.

Who am I?

I am the mom that loves to laugh with her children because it feels so good to know that I have them to laugh with. I am the person next to you at the red light that's listening to her music very loudly and singing along with it even louder. I am the stranger that will come up to you and tell you how much I love your hair, your clothes, your shoes or your bag and watch your face light up at such a random act of kindness from a complete stranger. I am *still* the comedian that will make you laugh until your cheeks hurt, only now it's genuine and not being done to hide pain. I am the woman in search of her son that was taken away by people that looked me in the eye and told me that I should have never been born.

Who am I?

Do you all ever ponder that question? If so, how do YOU answer yourself? And please know that I am very proud of who I am today; all of those things that I described herein have molded me into the person I am today. A person whom, after many, many decades of self-loathing, love wholly and completely....exactly the way that I am. You see, THAT is my greatest accomplishment in this lifetime thus far. I never, ever dreamed that I would ever be able to look into a mirror without hearing all of those hateful things that 'they' all said about me, of which I was one. So, perhaps I don't know who I really 'am' right now, in this very moment; however, what I DO know is who I am NOT and that's that hateful, sorrow filled, negative, angry little girl. That is accomplishment enough for me.

A new beginning and proof that 'it' really does work!

So, here I sit, on a Tuesday morning, after a surprisingly wonderful nights' sleep amazed that all that 'work' that I've been doing actually worked! We're told that anger, hate, bitterness and all of those nasty, negative feelings can actually eat away at us and cause dis-eases like cancer and that we should work on letting go and forgiveness, right? Well, I'm here to tell you that they're SOOOOO right!

I had an (over) hour-long conversation with my son's bio-father last night; after about 25 minutes of texting back-and-forth first. Let me go backwards here for a second; for those of you whom do not know our 'story'; we are the parents of a son who was lost to adoption almost 29 years ago. His name is Mike, and we had only seen/spoken to one another twice in the last 29 years.

On Monday morning, I turned on my BB and saw a Facebook friend request from him and nearly fell over. My eldest daughter felt that she had to remind me to stay focused on my driving while driving the girls to school; she said that I looked pale. I think I was in shock. I wasn't sure what to expect and wasn't really sure how I felt about it. After all the years that had passed and all of the anger that i had felt towards him.....and then my intuition kicked in and I realized that, with everything else behind us and all of the forgiveness work I had done, we both had one thing still in common; our son.

So, he sent me a FB message asking if our child had ever contacted me......it took me 14 hours to answer him; again, what did he want? Was he angry? Would he heed the warnings not to jump to any conclusions and hamper any chance that we may have of, one day, meeting our son? Once I replied to him, the communication began and I felt so relieved that I felt absolutely no anger, bitterness or fear...only love and compassion. How strange, huh? *in a delightfully pleasant way* My heart breaks for him after he told me that he'd had no other children; he hadn't been blessed like I have been. He even apologized for all that had been done back then. I was not only moved but also happy to know that I'm no longer in this "alone." Now, that's not to say that the Search Angels in my life haven't been wonderfully compassionate and supportive because they have, especially one in-particular *she knows who she is*..but this is different. I, suddenly, don't feel as if my feelings for my son are something I have to keep quiet about until it's 'appropriate'...he feels my pain and loss, just like most of the Angels do...but this is 'our' pain; he knows how I feel.

It's so freeing to know that all of that work that I have done over the last 10 years has actually paid off. I forgive him - I really do. I just hope he can forgive me. I know now that I did everything that I possibly could have to try and keep our son; I was 16 years old and there were a lot of 'them' and only one 'me'....I hope one day we can meet this amazing young man and that he'll be able to forgive both of us.

Thanks for letting me share. Love and light to all of you! <3

Shifting Gears

Hi everyone! It's been a while since I posted and I apologize for that. Health problems and life, itself, seemed to have gotten in my way...temporarily.

I hope you all had a phenomenal holiday season and a positive and loving start to the new year!!!

This post is different; a rant, if you will. I have some amazing 'gently used' Shabby Chic style furnishings that I've been trying to sell for months now a fabulous Robin Bruce slipcovered loveseat, 3 shabby bar stools, beaded light bulb covers and the dining chair covers. The problem seems to be a lack of exposure in the proper venues. So I have these things posted on Craigslist and also on ebay, as well as in the newspaper but have yet to have any success in selling them. One of the 'things' that I'm trying to sell is a set of four custom-made Rachel Ashwell slipcovers that are for dining chairs; something that I thought would sell quickly. Nope. So I'm trying to find out how to get more exposure and I google "Rachel Ashwell dining slip cover"...which SHOULD bring up my ebay auction, at the very least...but NOPE...nothing. Hmmmmmm. What to do, what to do.



Now I can google many variations and click the 'images' button and *poof* plenty of OTHER images come up, but not mine...even though all of those words appear in both the body and the title of my sales/auctions. So then I google "Robin Bruce Loveseat slipcovered" *because I have one for sale, too, lol* and NOTHING.

Can anyone tell me what I'm doing wrong??? Is the Universe trying to tell me something??? Ugh. I've gotta sell this stuff so that I can make some Russian Folk beds for my girls. How do the other people DO it?? Etsy, ebay....ugh.

Thanks for listening. LOL. Feel free to post any *legitimate* suggestions! Love and light to all of you! <3

A shift in thought and power.

As many of you that know me have seen, over the last few weeks I've battled some unknown illness, tackled old family ghosts and struggled with the search as to why my body just didn't want to get well. Over this past weekend, after finally beginning to feel like 'myself' again I was listening to my audio book version of 'You Can Heal Your Life' which is also read by Louise Hay *giggles in delight* while I was working on the mosaic tile vanity top in our master bathroom. I'm working and working, and listening and listening and in one particular moment it's like all of the 'noise' around me stopped and I heard her....I actually HEARD her. She reminded me that whatever we think becomes our reality. The thoughts that we think and the words we speak BECOME our reality.

Don't get me wrong, it's not the first time I had 'heard' this. In fact, I had 'heard' this concept over and over and over again within the past 7 years or so....but for some reason it MEANT something to me that it had never meant before; a new understanding, if you will.

You see, I had just spent the last few weeks focusing on lack; the lack of good health, the lack of a 'good' and/or 'fair' childhood, the lack of money, the lack of health insurance, the lack of someone at home to take care of me while ill, the lack of...well, you see where I'm going...er, where I was. What happens when you focus on lack *you ask*? More 'lack' will show up......there won't be enough of anything because that's where your focus is. Making sense?

So, my shift began; I have an ABUNDANCE of patience (in that it took me 2 days to complete my mosaic tile top), I have an ABUNDANCE of time (in that I could clean, launder, cook and still have time to play and work on other projects over the weekend), I have an ABUNDANCE of love (in a wonderful husband whom dropped what he was doing to run to Home Depot to buy me more mastic when I ran out AND started dinner when I was running late and 2 adorable, loving children whom even took messages for me while I was working and listening to Louise) and the list goes ON!! It's my own way of coaching myself!

I have even begun setting up my own little 'affirmation bowl' so that every morning I can reach into the bowl and pull out an affirmation that will be my focus for that particular day! I had a lot of fun creating all of those little slips of paper!!

Shifting my thought pattern to only those thoughts of abundance has not only raised my spirit and mood but it has also raised my energy level! It seems so simple, yet is so easily forgotten as old habits reach back up and try to take root....it takes 21 days of repetition to form a new 'habit'...and this is one I'm determined to make. With my 'Am I being kind' bracelet on my arm, my "You Can Heal Your Life" audiobook on my ipod and a paperback copy in my purse I am ready to forge through the next 20 days with nothing but thoughts of abundance, love, prosperity and all that is good right here, right now.

Day one....COMPLETED...victory is mine!!!! <3 and gratitude to all of you!

There are BIG, black clouds blocking my rays of light right now....

WOW!! Two posts in one week!!! I know, right? Well, it's been a hellish month of July and I can't wait to see it come to an end. A proverbial roller coaster of emotion and I'm ready to get OFF now. And now I'm feeling SOOO angry, tired and more than a little defeated right now.

My trip to the ER last night at 11:00 pm was not only frightening, because I wasn't even sure I'd MAKE it there by myself, but also eye-opening. My husband, who won't even bother to read this, couldn't get up to take me because he has to work in the morning....really? REALLY??? I'm angry, disappointed and not quite sure how much longer this 'marriage' will going to last. Even the kids are angry about it; Ari stayed up until I got home at 1:50 am because she was worried about me and had been texting me but, as most of you know, you can't have your cell phones on inside the ER, so when I got home she cried from relief...glad that I was ok. Where was my husband?? Sound asleep.

So...I'm in the ER and, on this trip, the doctor decides to actually TREAT me for my symptoms; they give me a breathing treatment, steroids via an IV and an EKG, amongst the normal blood work, etc. So, after a 2 hour breathing treatment and the steroids, I'm feeling better; well, better than I did when I walked in and couldn't get enough air to even speak ....so the Dr. comes in and says 'Do you know that you're diabetic?'....Me: "WHAT?" Dr: "Your blood sugar is up over 300, and that's a real problem"... Me: "HOLY SHIT!".....so he continues to tell me that my current problem could stem from the Type 2 Diabetes in that it affects the immune system; and my mind starts to run through all that I've had to deal with since February and things begin to make sense health-wise. As I process this information, I become angry. I remember that, before I had my gallbladder removed 2 years ago, the dr. had me monitor my sugar for 2 weeks before the surgery because I was 'borderline' and had to be careful. After the surgery I lost close to 40 pounds; worked on changing my diet and exercising a bit more than I had been. All that work and STILL my sugar's out of control??? Anger again. I not only believe, I KNOW that my body KNOWS how to work properly; years of Biological research has shown that our bodies CAN repair themselves under the right mind set; our cells respond to every thing we think, speak and feel....and I'm speaking, with feeling and thinking that my pancreas KNOWS how to work properly and want to know why it's not. I turn to my guru, Louise Hay, and her 'book of symptoms/dis-eases' and this is what her research says about, first, Diabetes and, second, Respiratory issues:

Probable Cause New thought pattern to cure the dis-ease

Diabetes: Longing for what might have been. This moment is filled with joy. I now
A great need to control. Deep choose to experience the sweetness of
sorrow. No sweetness left. today.

Respiratory: Fear of taking in life fully. I am safe. I love my life.


The 'longing for what might have been' thing is SOOOO true. I have always wondered what my life may have been like had I been adopted by people that had actually WANTED me; although not so much within the last 10 years. I worked SO HARD to forgive, love and release those that had caused the trauma that was my youth. I am really proud of whom I have become; especially in the last decade.

For those of you that have known me since childhood, you can attest that I was always acting happy and joking around; what none of you knew back then was that I was hiding the pain and trauma of growing up in 'that' household and fighting the depression caused by the birth and loss of my son......well, in the last decade I've worked hard and have made so many changes in myself, my life and how I see things and now actually AM that happy, playful person that I used to pretend to be. Well, not inclusive of the present moment. *smiles through tears*

So, I'm angry right now...angry at myself, my body, the Universe.....I live a clean life; don't do drugs, don't smoke and have a glass of Chocovine or a Pink Squirrel no more than a couple of times a month. I don't fill my body with crap *except for my chocolate obsession* and yet, here I am, with high blood sugar??? My husband; whom abused his body for more than half of his life by his excessive usage of alcohol and illegal drugs, although overweight, is healthy. WTF??? Really?? I wish the Universe could answer 'why.' *yes, I'm in the midst of a small pity-party, but, as my favorite Linkin Park song says, I have to feel it and then let it go*

All of the emotional drama and trauma that I went through last week trying to decide what to do about a 'forgotten' piece of my father and mother's estate mixed up in not feeling well for weeks is really taking a toll on me. I'm in this marriage and feel more alone than I ever had when I was single. What's my message in all this? What do I need to learn/change? Ugh.

I thank God for my children; for they are the reason that I live and the real reason that I was born. If not for them I might just give up.....but I can't do that to them. I have to wait for the clouds to dissipate and for my light to once again shine. In the words of my best friend in the world right now 'everything's going to be ok'.....I just pray that it's sooner than later cause this girl is T I R E D.

Thanks for letting me vent. <3 (-<) and $ to all whom dream.

It's been a while, I know......

<----Carmella Road; that's the view of my childhood home as seen from Homecamp Road; house on the left behind all of the trees and to the right you can see the pole my dad had put up with a mailbox that said "Air Mail"....and he WAS the first that anyone had known to do this. It was his sense of humor. This picture made me cry.


Ok, so I know that it's been a LONG time since I've been back to blog but life's been really busy and, by the time I remember that I haven't been back, it's 2 am. *smiles*

So...I've been focusing on all that is good in my life and trying to leave the pain, disappointment and anger of my life as a child behind me and was doing wonderfully until last week.

I received a message last week to advise me that the home I grew up in, along with the property that surrounds it, is going to be sold by the County Tax Assessor for back taxes; which I expected to happen eventually, anyway, because my parents had chosen the LEAST responsible of their children to sign over ALL of their property to, just prior to my father's passing. And just for a little background here; they adopted three of us, but had 2 natural children; Terry and Sherry, and raised another child that they had legal custody of but never adopted. Terry was killed in a car accident in 1963; but left behind a pregnant girlfriend *which will be important later*...and Sherry then had 3 children that were unwanted, thus, adopted by her parents *my grandparents* - to whom I referred to as 'Mom' and 'Dad.' Are ya with me so far?? *giggling*

Sherry gave birth to a son in 1964....'Mom' and 'Dad' desperately wanted this child, of whom Sherry didn't want, so they struck a deal; a new car for the baby, and *voila!* they had their son back! *no, really, they even named him Terrance Christopher and my mom looked at him over his crib when they brought him home and said, in front of everyone "Look! God took him away from us and now he's given him back."

Ok, at this point, SOMEONE should have stopped them from adopting any more children.....

A few months later, Sherry's pregnant with me. At birth, she refused to even HOLD me..said to the nurse *again, in front of everyone present* "Oh my God, that kid's ugly! It looks like a bug! Get it away from me!" :o( Sad but true.

Fast forward another couple of years....they get a phone call from Terry's *the one that was killed in the car accident* former girlfriend, and baby mama, that her new husband doesn't like Terry's son and that if my parents didn't want him they'd put him up for adoption elsewhere....so they took him. Now, one would think, at this point, that IF Ronnie was Terry's son, and Terry was the proverbial apple of my mother's eye, that Ronnie would have been 'The Chosen' one, right? W R O N G. My brother, Ronnie, was treated so horribly by these people that it made my treatment look good. *My dad would later tell me that they blamed Ronnie for Terry's death.....because Terry died chasing Ronnie's mother, who had met another man, was on her way to end the pregnancy. She changed her mind, out of guilt, after Terry's death. So....Terry gave his life to protect my brother's...hence, the 'blame' thing. Makes NO sense to me..but I'm normal.* Anyway....they had birthday parties for Chris, never for us. What's worse? The fact that Ronnie and I were made to stay upstairs during Chris's birthday parties. Yeah, we had it like that.

Fast forward....and my other blog posts talk about this in more detail...but I had my son taken away from me at birth and was told that he was a 'bastard' and that I was a 'whore'....and then the day I return from the hospital WITHOUT my son, Chris and his girlfriend announced that they were pregnant, gonna have the baby and live at our house...my parents were THRILLED!! They were gonna have a grandchild!! *are you seeing the 'big picture' yet?*

Again, zoom forward....we get the call in 1999 that my dad has cancer and it's not looking good that he can survive it so they ask for all of us to make one more trip up at the same time so we're all together one last time *which was easy for Chris because he lived in a trailer right next to my parent's home; still being supported by them at 34 years old*.....my dad promises all of us that we'd each receive an acre of property and share ownership of the family home with a clause that if whomever was in control and living there *Chris* wasn't caring for the property then the rest of us could throw them off and properly care for it so we'd 'always have someplace to go' if our lives ever caused us to return....*awwwwww, you say...isn't that sweet* Sure, it's a great gesture; however, it was a lie. Within weeks of our all *except Sherry, she stayed to take care of my dad because my mother never DID...she only cared about Chris and we all knew it, especially our dad* returning back to our lives, I received a phone call from Sherry, whom was heartbroken. It seems that our mother had pressured our father into signing ALL of the property and ALL other possessions *boat, cars...bank accounts* to Chris. Her reasoning? Because he was the 'only one' that stayed. OF COURSE HE WAS! He never had to work, pay a bill, buy groceries, pay car insurance or car payments!!! Oh, and beside the fact that they had told the rest of us to 'get the hell outta here' as soon as we were 18. So my dad did what she wanted and Ronnie, Sherry and I were left nothing. Zilch. Zero. Oh, except for the money that our dad had invested for each of us when we were young so that we could retire early, right? W R O N G again. My father had cashed them ALL in and combined the money into one large account so that my mother wouldn't have to ever worry about money, 'even if she lives another 50 years'........ahhhhhhh, if only that had been true. *FYI, within 11 months of my father's death, Chris had gone through more than $220,000...taking fishing trips to Canada, hunting trips to Newfoundland and Wyoming, buying quad runners and vehicles....how? *you ask* Why, because my mother added HIS name to HER account. He spent at will, until eventually there was none left to care for her and Medicaid had to. *Karma??* So, I call my parent's attorney, Paul Cherry, and ask for a copy of my dad's will......he refuses to give me a copy. Says that I'd need my mother's permission, which she granted over the phone, yet he refused. No estate had been filed, he said, because everything had been given away before my dad died, or had automatically reverted to our mother. No probate necessary. Secrets kept.

Back to the original reason for my return to unhealthy feelings...lol....so the 7 acres that house the family home, barn, garages and, of course, Chris's lovely abode, are going to be sold at auction....it's sad and funny at the same time. Sad because my dad and Terry built that house, literally. On nights and weekends they would build...it took them four years to complete it. That house meant the WORLD to our father. Now, it stands in serious disrepair; ceilings falling in, basement full of water, rotted roof and shingles.....all because they chose their 'beloved' Chris to hand it to. I'm upset because it was not ever my father's intention that anyone other than family own that house; but it's funny because we ALL told him that it would happen. Will I help Chris save it? Absolutely NOT. I would never do ANYTHING that would enable him to live an easier life. He never made it easy for Ronnie and I....and, near the end of my father's life, would tell my father 'just die already, old man, no one wants you around anyway.' He is the EPITOME of evil. I would pee on him if he was on fire.

So, upset about the loss of the family's homestead due to an irresponsible, spoiled demon, we then find out that there's one acre of property that's adjacent to the homestead that was never deeded to Satan...er, Chris. My brother Ronnie and I were thrilled! Maybe we could salvage that one part of our dad and share in it's possession??? But, why didn't anyone know about this? Why weren't Ronnie and I notified that my mother had ONE possession??? Why? Because Satan...er, Chris was the administrator of our mother's will and never filed for probate in Clearfield County!!! So, again, I call Paul Cherry...who's now a judge....he finds my mother's will but not my father's *shocked? I wasn't...secrets* and says that, although the will was updated in 2003, any property that my mother owned at her death was to be shared by me, Satan, Ronnie and Sherry....which is really odd because Sherry died in 2001, only 5 months after our dad died. So I use this information to contact the county....can we fight the tax sale and save this piece of property???? Well, 2 attorneys and multiple county departments later, yes, we can....but it'll cost almost as much as the property's worth. Cost not being the primary issue here; it seems that, even though Satan lied to Ronnie and I, never filed the estate nor paid any inheritance tax after our mother's death in 2007, there are no penalties in PA. None. He can't be arrested, fined...nothing. How can he violate a state law and not be a criminal? AND if I were successful in saving the property from tax sale then HE would be entitled to his share of the ownership!

So....after days and days and days stressing over what the 'right' thing to do is, I've finally decided to turn my back and walk away. After all I've had to deal with growing up in that house I've decided that I wouldn't even want to visit, let alone own the property that's connected to it.

You know, there are a lot of people that try and make me feel guilty for shutting that part of my life out and never looking back; but I have to admit that if I hadn't then you probably wouldn't be reading this blog right now because I would have ended my misery, rather than healing the wounds and starting a new life. Being adopted is not always in the forefront of my mind. Being adopted by people that didn't really WANT me is. I often wonder how differently my life may have turned out had I had loving, supportive parents, like so many adopted children have had. Then, I'll stop the what-if's and remember...I am who I am today because of all of that's happened and, you know what??? I like me. Even if 'they' didn't. I bought my own home, pay my own bills and have two amazing daughters and a son out there, somewhere......I think I've done pretty well for myself without their help.... especially compared to the life of the 'one' that they handed everything to.....yeah, I'm ok. Thanks mom and dad.