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Showing posts from December, 2017

Yeah, that happened.

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Have you ever experienced something so out of the ordinary and unexplainable that decades later it remained in your mind? One of those things where out of the blue you will remember it and think "Yeah, that happened!" A couple of blog posts ago I wrote that I do believe in miracles and have witnessed a few. One of those dealt with me back in the 80s and when I was in recovery after having an extremely enlarged spleen removed. It was that spleen which caused me so much pain and isolation growing up. Dozen upon dozen of hospitalizations, tests, and ping-ponging back and forth between specialists trying to discover what the root cause was for the ever-expanding enlargement and all the other odd symptoms I dealt with since the age of 9. By the age of 14 it was enlarged to the point where part of it was no longer protected by my ribcage. I would experience attacks where the pain in my side would make me pass out. Doctors were so concerned about it that they removed me fr

Domestic violence in small communities

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Reporting and seeking justice in domestic violence criminal cases is a cold and emotionally trying endeavor for any survivor. Survivors from small rural communities face an extra hurdle, everywhere they turn someone has an opinion about them and the judgments fly. When I went through that process I had hard evidence- over an hour-long audio recording of the assault - even so, I found myself trying to prove my case through a barrier of judgments, even from strangers. Word gets around rather quickly in these small communities - and by the time that word reaches most ears the message has been twisted and contorted a hundred times over. On top of that, there are the families. The generations of the victim's and the abuser's families who call that same community home. Add in their friends and co-workers, and you more than likely can imagine the lines drawn in the sand. Everyone feels like they have a stake in that nightmare scenario of domestic abuse. In my case, I didn&

2017 - Thanks for the memories....

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Another year is about to come to a close. Perhaps that is why, lately, I find sleep difficult to come by. This year has been a year filled with lessons, some of which I never planned on learning. I guess, when you think about it, those are the lessons we need to learn the most. Last year at this time I was apprehensive and filled with fears. Fears surrounding my children moving 10 hours away from me. It was the first time we have been a part for any significant amount of time. The day they drove away was probably the hardest day of my life. I will never forget that feeling, I felt like my core had been ripped out. It was a pain I cannot describe. Since they were born, everything I did...everything I had hoped for and dreamed about centered around my boys - keeping them happy, healthy and safe - and just like a bird taking flight, they left the nest I worked so hard on keeping them safe in. I miss their faces, their complaining, the shenanigans but most of all I miss them walking in

Mental Illness and Suicide - stop exploiting the victims

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This is something that has been on my mind lately - and I just feel a need to vent it all out...I apologize if it sounds a bit disjointed. After decades of advocates pushing for awareness about and of mental illness, mental health, and suicide prevention, lately, I've been noticing a shift - a push back to stigmas of yesteryear. It almost feels like big pharma and ancient attitudes are having a psychological war while those who really need the help and attention are in the center, being pulled apart. If you go to the doctor and mention you've been a little sad and down or anxious, more than likely you're walking out with a prescription for anti-depressants and Xanax. If you happen to catch a sermon you may hear how there's no such thing as mental illness, and that it is the devil at work - just pray more and give your life over to and follow Jesus. I've actually heard words like that a couple of times within the last few months. It took everything inside me t

Stalin's return and it is for a reason

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Seven years ago my youngest son brought home an older kitten he found wandering by our city cemetery. It was an orange tabby. He knew I would be a sucker. So, after a barrage of statements from me with the word "NO" emphasized, I set up our 3-season porch as a temporary home until a permanent home could be found. At the time the porch was all decorated for Christmas. The kitten made himself at home on the table I had a small tree nestled in the center of a Christmas village scene.  He was rather adorable. I listed him as found on social media sites and even in our paper, but no one claimed him. Somehow I knew that would happen. My entire life has been spent trying to find homes for strays - for some reason, ever since I was a child, they have appeared at my doorstep...more like flocked. Usually, I have the resources to be able to find them a home but this time I knew it wouldn't be the case. I don't know why the homeless are attracted to me. I've even had on

Living the dream....lifting each other up

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Rebecca meeting Mauston's K9 Unit -  Officer Sanner and Kantor (now retired) This past summer I met a young woman who reminded me of my own dreams and once ambitions. Her name is Rebecca, she prefers Becca. She calls France her home. She is a cinema student with a loving spirit. A wisp of a young lady, with an innocent beauty- much like an olive-skinned Audrey Hepburn. She has no idea of the beauty she holds. How I met her is rather a long story. Another one of those situations you would normally find in a movie, rather unbelievable. My youngest son Kyle, is living in Memphis- pursuing a career as a blues musician.  He is making his way to being discovered - he is that talented, and yet he doesn't believe it. He moved in January of this year, with his older brother and best friend, from Wisconsin to Memphis. A first for all of them...leaving home. It has been quite the adventure. One, many have commented to him and me about being risky. What people do not unders

It IS the thought that counts...

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Ten years ago I was in shambles. I cried every time I was alone with myself. My heart was breaking for my children. I had already filed for divorce, the last brutal attack from my husband was still fresh in my mind and my boys' minds. I shudder to remember just how poor we were. Had I not had the house at the time all this had happened, we would have been homeless - I tried to hold on to that fact as a form of hope and appreciation for what we did have, each other and a roof. But - I felt like a failure. I was embarrassed every time I went to the store and used my food stamp card. I prayed no one noticed it when I swiped it in the machine. I would hold it in a way I thought covered the "I'm poor" EBT green.  I literally was counting pennies - searching for them everywhere in my home, under pillows...in pockets...hoping for coins in the washing machine, because maybe I forgot to look prior to doing laundry.  The turkey from the food pantry would be our Christmas me

God is testing me

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Yes, God is testing me. He is testing my strength as a mother, as a woman, and as a spiritual human. A couple of posts ago I wrote about my Little Engine That Could adventure with my car.  Well, it is looking like the gas pump failed after my gas gauge broke. I guess running on fumes does that.  That was the preliminary finding from the mechanic who is booked up until after Christmas.  He also said it would be at least a $500 fix if it is the gas pump. Merry Christmas! My brother gave me enough to cover the tow and a little more. Tonight I will list items on eBay and hopefully, it will be enough or near enough to cover the rest of the bill for whenever that car gets fixed....probably next year. A lot of the work I do I can complete from home, so, I guess I will be, once again, setting up my office from my bedroom and bum rides for when I need to be at the actual office. That juggling act I can handle. I've been there before. Last night my eldest son, Justin, broke down in

'Tis the Season to Love thy Neighbor

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I get frustrated this time of year when I hear people argue over whether to say Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, or Season Greetings. Why do we debate over the words someone else states rather than spending time nurturing the example we set? Would Jesus waste his time over something like that or would he gather all he meets in his compassionate arms and surround them with unconditional love? Our world needs healing. There is so much division, judgment, and hate plaguing our planet that if we do not get a grip on it soon, we may destroy it to the point of no return and there will no longer be future Christmases to celebrate. If your faith is one of love - show it, live it - don't force feed it. To me, Christ in Christmas means to remember and honor the example he set. To thank God for all that we have and cherish by showing that appreciation in how we treat our neighbors. I feel that is what the Lord would want us to do no matter what religion or faith we or our neighbor m

You just can't make this shit up - Twisted Luck

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Life can be surreal - surreal, in a rather twisted way, at least my life tends to do that.  I always told my boys the reason for it all is God's way of preparing us for something grand. You need to know the struggle to fully appreciate the rewards. Life is an adventure! Well, lately that adventure has me exhausted,  and this week is the exclamation point. Since Sunday I've had about 13 hours of sleep, and tomorrow is Friday, plus I work this weekend. Work has been draining. If I had to keep track of my hours, thus far this week I am nearing 70 of them and I am a salary worker - no overtime for me. It may seem like a charmed life working in media, but what most people do not understand is how the hours get sucked away from you when you're working on a story. There are the phone calls, the research, tracking down leads and gathering your back-up..aka facts. Yes, even for a small community paper that is the reality-especially if you're in a competitive market. Reade