Unkindness

I happen to know two pretty amazing women. They make unlikely friends, trust me.

Throw me in as a third in this triangle, and now we are getting downright bizarre.

Their souls are as pure and gentle as you can imagine. Had we all kinder pasts, life may have provided a gentler cushion.

Each one of them are tremendous mothers, which is remarkable in itself, coming from their

upbringing. Their children are their worlds. I think they would carry the sins of their forefathers more than willingly, to have their children healthy and happy. These women would come and go in each others lives, throughout the years, as friendships do. Taking twists and turns. More than an occasional bumpy dip. Always love way down deep, even and especially when met with indifference.

We had all grown up in the same neighborhood. We knew each other's wounds intimately, and how to poke at them. Especially when all the seasonings in the stew that was brewing

in our little kettles of emotions were working overtime. As we grew older, we married, had children, and the separation began to occur. My two friends stayed in touch, and I moved in a different direction. Over the years, we would cross paths, but my two pals remained close.

I missed them, and at times felt somewhat envious of the bond that they had formed.

I would try to go back home, to our old neighborhood, but I always just felt bad.

Then I would feel bad for feeling bad. I wanted to be like them, and be able to go

back home, shut it down and not react. Like I said, we all had very similar backgrounds.

I always felt as though something was wrong with me, that I didn't handle going back into the war zone of our past very well. That is an understatement. My friends always seemed geared up and ready for battle. The right arsenal, gas masks on and ready for the fight. I felt like I was still in my jammies. It seemed like they knew how to play the game of survival better.

It would puzzle me to no end. How? What was I doing wrong?

They are truly the sweetest hearted people I have met throughout my life. Only now,

I see, I know what it has taken, what it took from them to have to shut down themselves to that level. Having to gear up for battle year in and year out. Me, in my ignorance, assuming they were not affected. Thinking they could breeze in and out when they entered their old stomping grounds, with no consequences to their souls.

They seemed to wear it so well through the years. Until recently, when their sweet kind hearts

could no longer wear or bear the brunt, of the unkindness that went on for so long.

Never asking for anything they would arrive, time and time again.

The gifts that would await them: ridicule, judgement, prove to me.

Cool aloofness, have we met before- as they walked into their childhood homes.

The interesting thing, almost funny. These two little ladies would be the first to make sure you had everything you need to be comfortable. Ultimate hostesses. Never for one moment when you enter their homes would they ever want you to feel ill at ease. They are so warm and charming. It hurt my heart today when I heard how their once again generous spirits were

met with unkindness. They are very close and made a visit to their old neighborhood.

I, no longer in my life excuse, "They are your parents"," They are old", etc.

Unkindness is so destructive. Not only to the unlucky recipient. The family members

that are affected by the pain from the original recipient as well. On and on it goes, when bad behavior is allowed.

"That's just how they are". Okay, then this is how I am, as the door is closing on my way out as I remove myself from unkindness. I have hurt and felt bad so long for being told I am going to Hell for not believing a certain religion, am wrong on a political view, for not accepting a limited "one way" opinion, etc.

I love my friends. We have each others backs. Always. We have been through the worst of it with each other. Now it is time to really see the best of times. We have shared the pain of

unkindness. We learned how to treat each other with unkindness. Now through so much

collective pain, we are learning to bring a new way, a new word:

Kindness.

Ready For Love

I am not willing to hide me anymore. I have come in this world as I am. I have worked ridiculously hard to be accepted and loved. I have exhausted every resource at my disposal.

I have been so ill I have been bed ridden, so sad, my heart has broken. Let's not start on the loneliness. Especially in crowds. It is all part of the process to strip away the excess baggage. It is very familiar to many who want to know their core essence. It is not this blissful bullshit story I am so sick of being spoon fed in this fast food, new age "everything is bliss" if you just....

(fill in the blanks).

Well, maybe I am a late bloomer. Not maybe. The thing is, what else exactly am I supposed to be ashamed of? Growing, not growing fast enough. Not seeing the light like the enlightened?

Why is my way not the right way- if inside my body it resonates perfectly. That's my point in writing this. I finally get that I have only been chasing my own tail. Period.

It feels so good to finally breathe and laugh and seriously get it. We are all okay.

As is. Who is this great rule makin-finger- pointin- mo- fo? He seriously wouldn't be someone I would want hanging out with me and mine. So I mis-spell something. What if you do?

Are the mis-spell police going to come for us? I am more concerned about wanting to know if you love me. Did I hurt you? Please forgive me for overstepping my bounds- hey thanks for loving me, anyway. Again.

We are just who we are. Walking forward, backward, sideways. The point is: We are

continuously walking. Falling, dusting ourselves off, laughing, crying. We are human.

Loving, sharing. Having the ability to be moved by the simplest of gestures. Kindness.

Acknowledgment .... good job. Understanding one another, in the deepest of grief, passion, fear.

To be loved. To accept love with grace. Quite a challenge for this little gal.

But the days of feeling less or ashamed for being the person who came into this world with

gifts and challenges are over. It's what makes the bitter and sweet work so well.

It just is. I can curse them. I have. I have been ashamed of me and let other's

classify me as less. Most of my life actually. That one is worn out. Thanks anyway.

I am me. I came here to be me. Why else would I be here? I tried being what everyone expected of me. Dismal failure. So...... the new plan. I am just going to cruise around this big ol' world and know there is plenty to go around. Enough toys for all of us.

Only thing I'm sayin.... I want to play now. Like I said, I am ready for love and then some.

She Slept Here

The peeling green shed door lightly closed behind me, as I walked into the cold winter air.

This door opened to it's own room attached to the garage. The kids had made it into a music, "hang out with their friends" place. The rain was really starting to fall, as I made the short jaunt back into our house.

It was getting later into the evening, and it seemed about that time to wrap it up.

My favorite place ever was sitting in front of the fireplace in the living room.

Listening to the crackling fire, and smelling that mountainy wood scent, as it danced up the chimney. Nothing comes close to it, especially being safe and warm, as the rain tapped on the windows.

Matt and Katie came in the back door, with a friend and her young brother flying behind.

It must have been around 7 or 8 pm by now on a cold rainy winter night.

I didn't recognize these little faces. It was typical having kids over, but this crew was

different. Matt was around 12 at the time, as was his friend. Her little brother seemed,

if memory serves me, to have been maybe 7 or so, if that. He seemed pretty young. Katie was about 8.

The young girl asked if she could spend the night. It just caught me off guard temporarily. Many a child had laid their head on a pillow in our home, it wasn't a problem. I just had no idea who this girl was until this moment . Her very-wet-from-the-rain little brother had the same wish as his sister. Haunting eyes that made it very hard for us to say no. So much sadness in them.

I was mystified. Not nearly as mystified, as when they called their mother to ask if they could stay in a complete strangers home. With little bro in tow- mom says no problem. It's pouring rain,

and these two adorable faces, along with my little darlin's are looking up at me begging please, please. That was all it took. So out comes the pull out couch in the living room. Warm jammies and hot cocoa with plenty of snacks all around. Watching them all laughing, sitting round that glowing fire. I can still see these four kids all under the covers everywhere. Sleeping bags, blankets some on the couch, others on the ground. All safe and toasty on this cold winters night.

If I knew what I now know today, about that snap shot I would need to keep for an eternity. A sacred moment with a weary young girl wanting nothing more than to feel safe, even for a moment.

This brother and sister duo were so grateful for the simplest of things. Especially the hot cocoa and being tucked in. I had no idea her circumstances. I just knew her mother didn't blink twice at the thought of

her two precious angels staying with complete strangers over night. It hurt me seeing so much pain in these two innocents, wanting what is everyone's birthright. To know they are loved and to feel safe and protected. They were so grateful I felt humbled. Morning came,

and I dropped them off at their house, so they could change before going to school.

I didn't see or hear from them again, but thought about these two kids on occasion. They lived around the corner from our house. My heart hurt whenever we drove by their house.

A few years had passed, and I can honestly say I don't remember what my son said.

There had been a fire in her home and his friend had been in her bedroom. She did not make it out.

We drove and walked by the house many times, I remember that very well. Matt was no more than

14 or 15, katie 10 or 11. The sight of this burned down house, the house that this young girl

once lived in was a constant reminder for a long time. This same young girl who spent one cold, rainy winter night in our home not so long before.

As I was driving home last night, for some reason I remembered this little angel again.

She has been gone at least 10 years now. I don't know why she flashed so strongly in my brain.

Maybe she just deserved for someone to pay tribute to all the cold, rainy nights that

she felt so alone. I know she's dancing on Angels Wings.

The Home Made Veil

I emailed my sisters today laughing as though it were more than 30 years ago.

I couldn't control myself as the images became more vivid. I was no older than third grade, when veils were no longer en vogue in the Catholic Church. Now, that isn't what makes me laugh at all. That's just part of growing up Catholic. I did feel gypped that I did not get to rock in those wailing long black veils. Now those had some drama, some bounce. You could put those on your head and act very fancy covering your eyes, your entire face. Unfortunately, those rigs were for adults only. So I sported my mothers, parading around at home. Stylish in black, white, or your choice of ivory. I wanted the black, who's kidding who?

Not that the girls would ever forget their small, round black or white veils at home.

Maybe the younger one. She seemed to be a day dreamer. They covered the top of your head,

but had no zing like the Queen size version. I am still fixating on that big'un.

So we dutifully bobby-pinned those suckers to our skulls. Maybe someone else helped,

if they didn't stay in place. I'm not saying who might have not been tender and gentle as a lamb

putting those bobby-pins in. I'm just sayin.

There was an unfortunate day when at least one of these three lovely little lassies

would forget their veils. I know, say it ain't so. Alas, the three sissy's had one quick thinking mama. Oh no you didn't! Out of her purse, that had the most interesting things- always a

mint lifesaver stuck to a kleenex, that was a given. Well, out she pulled a kleenex to cover our bare non veiled head. Not an ordinary kleenex, but wrinkled with several lipstick marks covering it. If you were lucky, you didn't get the one she would say had just a little phlegm on it.

So, you can imagine our dilemma. The audacity of us forgetting our veil. I am pretty sure most mom's wrote that one off. Not ours. Where there was a will, there was a way. That wrinkled, red lipstick, phlegm-speckled kleenex sure did come in handy.

The Downtowner

You turned my world upside down. The moment you stepped into it. I would watch you

drive up in your little red BMW. All the way to the very back of the driveway, I could never figure that one out. Even when there was a space right out front, you'd keep on going.

Then you'd walk in. I'd act cool and casual. Probably like I didn't even see you. I thought

I was obvious, then I would have to be even cooler. I just liked you. You made me smile.

I would be tortured if you didn't sit on my station, my side of the restaurant. I'd try to

guide you over with my witty remarks. When you brought your girlfriend in, that tortured me.

I knew you were a couple, but I had finally gotten my freedom. I'm sorry, but I was

a smitten 20 year old who didn't get the two of you together. I was polite when you

both came in, but I never got why you were so humorless. Alone, you were a firecracker.

It was so difficult the times you did come in alone. You would be so chatty, funny.

Terribly confusing. We were always very proper with each other. You still thought

I was married. I didn't know you had split with your little lady. What was up with us?

We would laugh and joke about everything, but never get around to the fact that we

dug each other. Okay, I will say I dug you first, but I know the real truth fella!

I never wanted you to leave when you came in for breakfast. Bacon, eggs, OJ and coffee.

Oops, don't forget that wheat toast.

I remember the first time you asked me out. We finally both figured out we were freebirds.

You invited me down to your office at the Bradbury Building. I acted like I knew what the hell

the Bradbury Building was. Went their often with my other waitress friends.

Maybe some Temple City Homeys. I probably had been to downtown LA once, and never by

myself. I was so excited, yet horrified. To meet you downtown. Whoa, this was the big time.

I had no idea what people wore to downtown. I searched my closet for the proper downtown

wear. I found a long yellow skirt and blazer. Seemed very downtownish. I had never worn my

hair down in front of you, so this slightly freaked me out. I know this sounds odd, but being a waitress, I had to wear my hair in a bun every day. My hair was very long, so I almost felt naked.... a different person with it down, so revealing. Plus my downtownwear. You had always seen me

in my Francisco's uniform.. you were my customer, and I liked you. Deadly combo for

breaking walls down. Plus you were the cutest boy/ man. I was just coming out of a marriage,

at the ripe old age of 20. I was scared.

The lunch was fabulous, it felt terribly fancy. I thought you were so sophisticated.

Being a downtowner and you were older than me. Hmmmm.

I think you were wearing your brown cords, with a blazer kind of jacket, too.

I thought you were the cutest,most adorable, scary ....... I am in giant trouble.

How could I possibly like and have fun with the same person I was going out with.

I had married The Marlboro Man last pass, good times. This fellow liked to laugh

and talk and feel and was still a man. Hmmmm?

When the time came for me to travel back to reality land, you asked me out again.

Now, for certain I had grace and charm and was a whiz with words. I insulted you,

and you never called me. This perplexed me. I couldn't figure it out. So I called you

a week or so later. Had I no pride? I kinda thought you dug me. You were quick to inform me of the insult. I thought you knew I was kidding. So to make up for my atrocious behavior,

I invited you out for an evening. How we have been married 26 years, and ever reached the second date, I'll never know. One of my waitress gal pals had just given birth.

I thought it would be a great idea to swing by the hospital and hang out, sit a spell.

This poor guy probably wanted to flee, thought he was on a reality TV show, something.

Who thinks that is cool on a second date? His little gal, his bride, the one who loves him.

I think back to where and how it all started for us, two crazy kids. No matter the highs and lows, I love my Raymond. Even when we infuriate the hell out of each other, we eventually start laughing. I think it is fair to say I torture him more, being an extrovert.

I can just imagine the eye rolling going on. I guess my incessant talking is the equivalent

of his motor boat snoring. That's love.

One Day

Oh, but you are so amazing. I love you ........ of course you know that. It's just that ______ (fill in the blank) name will be upset. I'll call you. Don't want to upset the apple cart. You understand. You're such a trooper.

I have made excuses my entire life for this behavior. I have wanted to be liked more than respected. I have needed it. That is why sitting here is so difficult right now. I've reached my limit. I have peaked out. There's nothing left but the hollow shell I am now shedding. It's done. The veneer wasn't much thicker after all these years. I just didn't know how easily it would peel off when I was ready - Really ready.

It's just a few days into the New Year. Maybe it's that. I made no big New Years Resolution. My heart remembered. From a ghost from my past. Someone I loved dearly, who always put me on the back burner 100 years ago. What did I know? Throw the dog a bone. I would have and by the way, did take any bone thrown my way. I was not what you would have called one with discriminating tastes. If someone was nice to me and did not appear to be a serial killer or some form of reptilian mutant, they were in.

It didn't mean I liked them or thought highly of them, after all they liked me. What's up with that? Big ol' defense mechanism. But I did liked being with people. It's because I wanted them to like me and was terrified of rejection. I just couldn't figure out why anyone would like me. Consequently, I allowed some of my friends to treat me badly : getting bitch slapped verbally. I was subserveant, a role I learned so well as a child. I followed the pack until later in life when I would catch on how power was won. I didn't say healthy power. Good teachers, some of those Bitch Slappers. I'm sure I did my good share of bitch slapping back, once I caught on to how that game was played. I truly am sorry to those who got caught in my Power Play. No excuses for that one.

I did have some standards. I had secret deeply buried aspirations. Unknown even to myself, I would always be on a quest to search out individuals I respected. This presented a problem in my life. This somewhat secret quest, well... very hidden quest buried deep in my heart. Meanwhile acting out in very destructive ways. I wanted guidance, but like a wild stallion needed to be reined in. No easy task I assure you. I believe bucking bronco may be one of the terms used by my sweet hubby.

I did the best I could with the limited road map at my disposal at an early age. Leaving home at 16, you miss out on a lot of things you can never get back. You see the world differently, than maybe someone who felt protected and nurtured. I knew there was no going back. I felt very old. I didn't see things with the same perspective as someone who was thriving , healthy. I felt desperate, running, always trying to figure things out and keep up. Then just wanting to escape. Everything seemed too hard.

The boyfriend I moved in with, to escape the bad family home life now was becoming too much.

By the time I was 18 and had pushed for the marriage that I now wanted to flee. Having no voice can present quite a problem. I wanted to get married, to prove I was lovable, not the monster I conjured up in my head. Oops, too late. Mama wasn't letting me out of this one. Neither was hubby-to-be. What to do, what to do. I know, I'll get married. That will get everyone off my back. Then I will just do what I want. Hmmmmmmm. I was brilliant, mature, and definitely had it all going on. 18 and on top of the world. How I wished. Pretended.

Scared shitless and wanting someone to take me by the hand and make it all better was more like it. Completely lost. Alone. I was a year out of high school. Not even a full year. I did what I did to survive. Period. I left one bad situation for another. I wanted love. I needed a voice. Which, by the way....... my going down memory lane writing does have a point. The great trooper, No Voice Clare. Going along for whatever ride. Always in the back seat. But the problem, I like the view from the front. The other view just doesn't cut it anymore. I want to see everything!!

Maybe in that other life. When I didn't know any different. Desperation and fear were forever

my friends, side by side. So as I go down memory lane, my heart doesn't travel lightly. Not this time my friend. I am no longer Back Burner Buddy. Always laying in wait, as I did so many years before. I was so obedient. It wasn't that I was actually as desperate, as this one silly thing. I just loved you so much. So I waited. I waited for so many people, like a good obedient dog.

Because I loved. I will continue to love. But as of today..... I'm sorry. I can no longer wait. I have people who are waiting for me to get this Hospice business going. Thanks for reminding me.

"The House That Clare Is Building"

With unflinching certainty it came to me. I have waited so long

to hear, see, know. I no longer question for one second the next move I need to make.

I have anguished for so long for a clear sign. I am the type of gal

who needs it in neon bigger than life. Than multiply that by 10. I'll start thinking it might be a sign and ask for more. Must be a coincidence and I am hallucinating.

My name could be on it, with arrows pointing towards the correct direction.

I would still ask, hmmmm, maybe it's for another Clare.

I don't know why it is hard for me to accept signs, truths, realities.

I feel them in my heart constantly. I think never having them validated as a child,

I have a hard time trusting myself. I brush it off. I must be high.

On what , sugar? That one is even getting old.

Something clicked about a week ago, when I couldn't sleep.

I lay there in the dark, and I knew without a doubt, what my life's mission

finally was. The best part, I finally got me. Why my life has unfolded as it has.

I made more sense to my own self! A tremendous burden was lifted.

To know so many years of darkness and pain, which I could not understand for the life of me.

What could possibly be the point of that one. A lot of different avenues to pursue. Now it finally made sense. To feel SO sensitive all these years, all this time. My sensitivity now had purpose.

The only one that kept reeling me back in, loud and clear: Hospice.

I cannot explain how at home I feel. I know that's when the best me comes out.

How nothing feels more natural and right.

Taking care of individuals, families in their most vulnerable moments.

A few years ago, I would have told you this decision was insane. No way.

My passion, compassion has only grown. I have had to do a lot of soul searching.

Forgiveness taking me down some roads I never thought I would dare travel.

Opening my heart, when I wanted to slam it shut so tight. Tell everyone to go to hell.

That would be the cleaned up version. A whole lot of kicking and screaming has gone on.

Tears and bitterness that could fill many rivers. Rage, hissy fits and a whole lot of

bitching and foot stomping going on.

Holding on to my point of view, until the bigger plan got shaken up. Having the privilege the honor of sitting, being with one person at a time. Making their transition back home, from this life into the next.

Listening, talking, laughing. Being. Getting to know family members. Holding a hand that is shaking. I completely underestimated the value in a cup of coffee, before. Having a warm beverage to hold, a hot cocoa, in the winter. Soothes a weary soul. Smell of fresh baked cookies wafting. Draws a very unlikely gathering. A perfect orchestra, created exactly at the right time, for each in need of comfort, laughter, just plain old company of strangers sometimes.

Mothers, fathers, sons, daughters. People unsure of what to do, how to behave.

Aunts and Uncles flying in from out of town, exhausted. Blankets draped on tired, sleeping sweeties sometimes can revive and comfort, even temporarily.

Others in great need of comic relief. Fearing there is a great rule book.

If there is laughter, they must be bad. So far from the truth. Laughter is so necessary .

Stories of family history, memories. Just plain old jokes. Knowing that you are not alone .

That is the bottom line.

Children, wanting normalcy. Smelling cookies baking, watching movies. Obviously they see their mothers, fathers in grief. Having a place to still be children, know that everything is going to be okay, critical. They get it. However they still want to play a game, watch a movie.

I learned so much working in a Hospital setting. It is very rare to find a

Hospital that serves specifically as a Hospice.

I am now going back to a new Hospice that I will learn, again my third time out.

This time my purpose has taken on an entirely different meaning.

My eyes, my ears, my radar- with complete alertness.

The student is in need of learning everything.

I, one day in the not too distant future will be opening my own Hospice House.

This is my declaration to myself, and to the world.

This is my Mission. Now is my time to learn as much as I can .

Meet the people I will need to. Have faith that this will all come together.

The thing I need to concentrate on are these two basics.

One, most important, keeping my heart open to love.

Without that, I am useless to anyone. Second, willingness to be a conduit.

I do not have to worry at this moment how all of this will come together.

I think the point is- to be willing. I am. I cannot worry about the other stuff yet.

It gets in the way of what I am good at. I have finally identified that one.

Remember me and signs>in the beginning of all this writing. It has taken me

a lifetime to get here. To accept this part of me. I got this sign covered. Past that I

definitely need to have serious neon signs lead the way.

I know there will be others along for this ride, who will read the signs along the way a lot better than me. I know I'll be covered.