Christmas break has been a life saver. I have finally slowed down and have managed to do nothing for several days now! I really should go home and get something done. I've been hiding in my parents guest bedroom. It is a good place to hide. Nobody believes that I'd go there to hide. Plain sight kind of hiding.

I was thinking about the last 3 months and all of the changes it has brought to my life. I don't really think I have had time to process what I have lived. Time is really precious. I think I have taken it for granted. Busy is one thing. Simply maniacal is another.

I like change. It is good. I was reading my emails which seriously pile up over the week and a friend from out of state IM'ed me. It is exactly what I needed. That conversation really cheered me up. I feel good, but it is like i waited all day for it.

Silly me. Now that I turned my internal engine off I am having trouble getting it to start again. I think I need to go back to journaling daily with pen and paper. Get the juices flowing. There are so many things I have been putting on hold, developing ideas for projects, stories, new artwork, poems that haven't been written yet, philosophies on life, thoughts I haven't heard, dreams I have forgotten to ponder, feelings I have ignored, things that are really important to me, life lessons, staying organized, shopping, comic books to read, books to discover myself in, music to sing and dance too. I have so much waiting for me to do, things that I love doing, how did I forget to take a break!?

How does one learn to be a workaholic in a healthy lifestyle? If I practiced the answer I would be a millionaire and people would be coming to me for answers. Maybe I should just stick to asking questions. I like questions. I like learning new things. Like what do I want to be when I grow up?

I don't plan on ever growing up. I like being me. I'm not sure of this illusion of becoming a responsible adult. The grass is always greener on the other side. Here is the rest of the story: and when you get to the other side the grass is greener from whence you came. Therefore the moral of the story is all that glitters, glitters and are you smart enough to enjoy your bling bling where you are?

Enjoy each day for the gift it has been given to you, that is my current challenge.

It is a gift that keeps on giving that does no one any good.
How is it when your parents ask something of you, you as the child are not allowed to say no. I guess the real issue is a battle of wills. If I win, I feel terribly guilty for not doing what I was asked to do. Yet, if I given in, depending on the issue will depend on the resentment I have for myself. This here is a delicate balance between self preservation and respect for your elders.
It is not about what is asked, being the real issue. It is typically stating that I would prefer to _______. They state we are or I am and ______. Again filling in the blank isn't the real issue. Instead it is the issue of will. What am I willing to give up in order to do and what am I getting in return. Most of these issues blow over after said errand, or task is completed with or without me. Yet I am still racked with guilt either way. So now I feel like a sod for not going on said errand. I wanted to do something else. Of course the weather is bad and parent insisted on going out in it. The car is not in good condition and the rental has not arrived yet. So the preverbial worrywart is at her station - me. So now i feel the need to worry until she gets back, because what if_____. Then it is all my fault. Yet it is really only a matter of will. Her will led her to decided, and go. My will forced me to stay and wait. Yet I am not doing what I wanted to do while I waited. Maybe the other assumption parents make is that you will do it no matter what you just stated to the opposite.
This Christmas is just never had it's equal. None of us want to do anything. We feel tired and out of sorts. Everyone is grumpy, moody and acting childish. I am no different than the rest of my family. Then as for everyone else who is in a good mood, why do they expect me or the grumpy part of my family to be any different. Hell, last year I was kicked out of the house i was invited to for dinner do to too many people showing up. It made for a shitty Christmas afternoon and evening. I really don't have much energy to celebrate. I don't even want to go to church. Of course that will depend on the car. What is with me? Or everyone around me? Why are we so gloomy?
We have lost one too many family members and the family is shrinking and the times are changing and though change is good sometimes it takes awhile before you can settle into it.

Sometimes life is truly insane. I had a morning planned and now it is noon and I have not gotten to anything on my list, had some unexpected surprises, interesting phone conversation, on a new hunt for my aunt (I think I have an addiction to helping people - this really is a problem. I think I will worry about it tomorrow though because today is simply busier than expected.) Didn't start working on my incomplete class. Didn't manage to get into the shower and still in my PJ's (which is the luxury of being on vacation), Need to revamp some lesson plans, create handouts for next semester, update my grade book, correct papers, Clean my apartment, find out why my tuition has not been paid, figure out how much i owe, plan next months bills, finish making Christmas gifts, do laundry, do my toxic dishes, clean the 7 rooms in my apartment so you can call them clean, all before the inspector comes, visit with friends stopping over, help my dad with his stuff, my neighbor, help him with the fixings for Christmas dinner, help my mom do her stuff, try to put myself back together.
I have told people that my stress level has gotten me to contemplate slitting my wrists. There response is to laugh and say your not serious. Why did I just say it, if I didn't mean it. People kill me. These last three months have had me one step away from sanity and one foot in my grave. No, I don't have 3 kids. (I choose to not have kids at this time in my life.) No, I don't have a husband. (I choose not to add more stress to my life and no one male is truly that insane.) I've heard every excuse why my life isn't as stressful as theirs and to be completely candid: They are right, but also full of shit! It is my life that I am talking about and I am staying sane and alive only because of my belief system. That I choose to put this maniacal schedule into motion and my word that I would do what I said I would do. Therefore I am doing it. Now to speak to the sanity of these choices is to deal more with my emotional state of being. I just finished going to school full time, working a part-time teaching job which is full time but I am getting paid for part-time. Still I kept my routine and struggled through deadlines, miscommunication, people not willing to make compromises, friends who were very self absorbed, losing a long term 10 year friendship, having my father in and out of the hospital, car problems, getting to work and school problems, losing a close friend to a sudden and unexpected death, meetings, choir practice, papers, research,making handouts, grades, correcting papers, work stress and politics, school stress and politics, I'm tired of typing it all out... that is the gist.
SO I have been on this emotional roller coaster and only I have seen the decline in myself. I must pretend really well or people are gutless to talk about real life problems. I have every sign of depression and too stubborn to pay with money I don't have to have a shrink tell me I am sane and need to clear off my plate. See, all this I know, it is in the application of knowledge and self discovery that we create success where defeat looms as the inevitable and heavy shoe to fall. I am almost finished with the ball and chain.
It is just in the loss of self I have been remiss in stating, i miss me most of all and haven't had time for her since July. I know people who have successfully managed to live life without ever missing their relationship with themselves, but again I am an artist not by choice but by birth. I do not have a choice about being an artist, it consumes my soul and begs for expression. Imagine holding that in because you simply did not have time to feel for 3 months? I was on emotional hold and now I am a dam about to burst with no direction and trying to stay relaxed. Like when people witness you staying in your PJ's for three days and watching TV and sleeping, which I feel I have earned without interruption or qualification.
Who are we to judge? Why do so many people want me to know their business? And why do I listen? It is that whole treat people the way you want to be treated thingy. I guess I do it because if I was standing where they were I would hope that someone would listen, help or do something with me or to help me. Guess what? Other people are too busy living their lives to help someone else. This is why I haven't has much Christmas spirit in years. Why I miss my grandparents! and why I have been living on the edge of reason. So Neitche, I have been made stronger, but I stand alone in a room full of people waiting to enjoy the company of one, myself. And almost fearful of how to begin because it is a habit i should have never started - to ignore oneself is self-destruction! The only problem with me being insane is I have the self-awareness to know I am not, but feeling very close to the precipice of insanity willing myself to jump but having a firm conviction in life and making a sorry attempt to live it~!

I have this fairytale perspective that people should follow their hearts. On many occasions it has gotten mine crushed. Never-the-less I still believe, call me a zealot. Either way I have a friend I am mourning the loss over. I have loved him since the first day we realized we had something in common. I have no idea why we stayed friends over the years. But we did. Now, I need to move on and we are incommunicado. There are so many days I think God - he would love to hear about this. My life seems to never go off stage. Always on call, something is always going on and I enjoy the weekends, I enjoy the moments in between when life is quiet and there is nothing keeping me from the movie spree in my living room. Except my best est friend to discuss the details with. It's not just the movies. It is all the things we could talk about, our feelings, our passions, music, life, family, art, people, lessons, work, school, our lives, our dreams, just hearing his voice leaving a message on my machine. I never knew how important he was in my life, now that I think he is gone. It doesn't really matter why we are not talking, it is the fact that we are not talking. Living at opposite ends of the state has something to do with it. I have never has a problem letting my friends go about their business and come back and give me an update. But there was something so final in the last time we said goodbye. Bon Jovi said "Never say goodbye." SIGH I guess I don't really, but I need to close this chapter, because many more are waiting in the wings. There are experiences and life just waiting til I stop being depressed and maniacal. There is the necessary mourning period for any friend that has been close to my heart. For most there is always the possibility of the door reopening. Hey, Mister, the same goes for him too! For some reason I can not fathom this one hurts more deeply than any other that has gone before.
It is true, I am good at making friends, but I think people forget that relationships take energy and we must work for all the things we have in our lives. I hope and pray I never took you for granted, and if I did I have more that repaid my debt with all the pain my heart has endured.
Where do we go from here? (Boys II Men) Can I have another Amen? (Fighting Temptations.) It is a death of sort to close tis chapter with the main character thinking it is all over, not really knowing the whole story but I doubt I'll ever be reading that script.
For Mr. Lee I bequeath a part of my heart always to love you no matter what, because I have tried to squeeze it out, but it refuses to go. As you are not currently not part of my life, I'm letting you go. (Do I really have a choice? Can you take more than one day at a time.... - 28 days) What I wish you is true love and true happiness in every day of your life. I just want to see you happy, even if I never see it with my own eyes. I hope you find what you are looking for. Where ever it is, I hope you find it. I will never forget you. I will always love you. There is always a place in my heart for you.
The thing that leaves me looking over my shoulder for that shadow that just moved... was it real? Did it real exist? Or was it all in my head? Our friendship? I did most of the talking. You did most of the listening. Did I not listen? What did I misunderstand? How did we get here? I guess I was wrong. (Always Wrong never right... I was born in the year of the chicken - Chorus Line) It is kind like when Michael J Fox goes back in time in Back to the Future and he realizes he changed some major time line that if he doesn't fix he will not exist. I guess that is the mourning of emotions I am dealing with. Except add a dash of those great oldies like "White Christmas" where you do it because you love someone. Everything is on the up and up, no Hank panky, just good old fashion respect for each other. You gotta wonder where it goes, when whatever it is we had is gone. Where does that go and how to I caught the next train there...
I love you, Mr. Lee. May the future you choose to bless you with happiness as well as success (because that is a given).
Taking BJ's advise and every old movie I have ever loved and for art sake: Until we meet again...

I have recently discovered how addicting eBay really is. I keep promising myself this is it... but then I have to go to give feed back and then I start to look around and OI! Next thing I know I'm bidding on something and then this competitive edge comes out and I'm like no - you can't have it - I want it! The two year old has arrived and I will bid! I will out bid you! (whoever the competition is...)

So am I a bid-aholic or a charm-aholic... My new addiction is the Italian Modular Charm Link Bracelets. I have definitely gone over my set spending limit and I'm still doing it... I find something and I want it. So I get it. I've rearranged my bills 3 times altogether, it first started with Christmas shopping and not realizing how close Christmas actually is. Some of what I am bidding on is Christmas. Some of it is not. I think I'm in the big 3 oh blues, only my best friend remembered by birthday with presents and though it is completely childish, I'm quite put out by the rest of my friends and family. Hey, I understand when money is tight. But then say you'll get your gift late or something other than letting it go by altogether.

Maybe I should take the high road on this one and let it go. But it has really been biting my heels. It has been 3 months since my birthday and I am PISSED off! I didn't want a party, I just wanted people to remember, give me a card and a stupid ice cream cake. Unfortunately, I do expect more from my family and I still forgive them for not getting me anything. Christmas is coming. SIGH .... heavy sigh ... I hate getting my hopes up. I think that is the main cause for my current addiction on eBay. It is instant gratification for what I want, wither i get it or i don't but I'm not relying on other people to get my gratification from.

I know in another 3 months I'll look back on this whole fiasco and laugh my ass off even though I'll be in debt up to my ears. (Course it happens every Christmas!)
Technically I only have 1 present left to buy; 10 to make and wrap them and I am all done.

The Miser
Late turn of the century, early 1900's clothes. There is this man who is building some kind of project for this rich and powerful man. The customer never seems to have a name and his face is always blurred he wants the gallows built and there are rings at the top and heavy duty pulleys to suspend objects, all this out in the open deep into the woods on his estate. The builder is excited and is a handsome blond man with light blue shocking eyes and a magnificent body, busting out of his tailored suit. He exudes this happiness at his work and does it with the finest craftsmanship and without question builds these idiosyncratic edifices. This is the main reason this man is chosen. The work is in progress when I flip to the future...
These young teenage boys are playing video games and when the pizza deliver guy comes turn on the cable TV, to see what's on... the see a documentary on this mysterious miser that lived in there town. They were so engrossed they watched to whole program to figure out where his property extended so they could check it out. One of the guys so excited about this find called his girlfriend to see if she wanted in on the discovery. Her and her best friend answered and said they'd be over to watch. They got all gussed up in dresses and thought they'd be cuddling on the couch and eating pizza. Excited they walk over to the guy’s house the boyfriends were at. In the meantime the boys so excited over this documentary are grabbing maps of the city with the ones they printed out from the website via the show that was on and are juxtaposing the maps to find out where the man lived. They had this silly idea there was treasure because he was so rich and the inheritance was missing. They figured that was the real story behind the documentary. The girls arrive to empty pizza boxes and over hormonal teenage boys ready for the quest for treasure. The boys explain everything but then realized the girls were not dressed for digging. The plan was formulated. The boy who did not have a girlfriend was to take their girlfriends back to the one girls house they had called originally for a change of clothes and the missing supplies. Then met the other two boys on the land of this old estate, which has been divided up into parcels of land of a farmer, the judge, and a public park. The other pieces of the estate would be in some people’s backyards and the like.

Billy you’re my idol… Back to something I know. My life being turn upside, boy you turnin’ me inside out and round and round. I forgot how much music can invigorate the soul. My mamma don tol’ me, when I was in pigtails, hon, a man is a two face, he’ll give you the big eye and when his big talkin’s done…The Blues in the Night.
    Then movies, back to my books and feeding my brain, and I almost forgot about the people train. Am I distracting myself or just spending and little quality time…? A little stroll down memory lane… I remember all the musical moments in my life. One glorious hit tune after another. Does my life go platinum? Or am I hiding from the pa-pa-rot-si?

I’m burning up for your love… maybe I should be a vampire and suck it out of them or just walk out into the light of day. DAY – O. DAAAYYY –OOOOO Daylight come and I better drink-a-the-rum. Except I don’t like to wallow in my own pity, dislike hangovers (a development with old age), and really don’t need to take a depressant. I am depressed enough. The blues hits at night. I wear my sunglasses at night so I can so I can… watch you weave your story lies, hmmm. I’d quote weird Al except all I got is take an egg and BEAT IT!

Cooking channels are all the rage, kick it up a notch, BAM! Gotta love Emeril. Which reminds me of a Cosby show episode where Theo learns to carve the bird like so… Bill says after seeing his attempt to carve the turkey why didn’t Theo just take a cherry bomb and let the guests eat the turkey off the ceiling and floor. Bringing me back to my strange love, depressed thoughts and no amount of distractions working.

I escape into the SILENCE, which I was not enjoying forgive me Depeche Mode, but I found out I was not alone. Something deep in me, a spiritual ballad without words radiates from my long nights alone, tired and needing a little forgiveness… I will walk with you until clouds move away, I’ll walk with you… I’m the one who’s gonna help you see the light, I be right there… walk with you… each and every day.

Remember me, Lord, when you walk into your kingdom. From this retired disc jockey, who knows well there is a melody for every mood. A song in every person’s heart that must be sung and praised. There is a magic…called LIFE. There is Sweet Honey in the Rock. There is a moment captured in our mind with the help of a tune. A bump and grind, sexual healing – SATISFACTION kind of moment that can lead into an everlasting love that is simply unforgettable. Or the Sentimental Journey we take when we hear the sacred sounds melt those memories into the instrumental moments of our lives.

Let the music play …on…Duende.

The theory is that it is possible for males and females of any sexual orientation to admit to romantic feelings and still have a friendship after the confession with an understanding of why both parties are interested in the friendship. (Their motivation to stay in the relationship already in motion.) As long as both parties are honest, truthful and continue the lines of communication the friendship can be saved from the development of romantic feelings of either party.

The Story:

    There were once a couple of good friends. One male and one female who shared their poetry and a great deal of their emotions. Poetry was their connection. Life happens. They became closer and shared more and the events that had spawned the poetry were shared. Time moves quickly. Then some strange events happened. The female discovered through this sharing that her friend was in love with another girl. Our female was delightedly happy and decided to do something about it. Being a typically over protective friend to her male friend she, decided that the plan was to get to know this girl, whom she was acquainted with and see if she was WORTHY of her poet friend. She deemed they were. In the process of getting them together an oops happened!
    She discovered unbeknownst to her that she was developing feelings for her friend and before she completed the ties between the other two she decided to tell her poet friend her feelings at one of their hangouts and spill her guts. She did. He told her he never felt that way for her, they were just good friends. She conceded this was true. He was concerned are we still going to be able to be friends? She closed her eyes and imagined all the feelings that were at the smallest beginnings and put them in suspended animation in the shoebox of her mind and put the shoebox in the proverbial closet of her mind. She then looked at her friend and said, “no this will not affect our friendship and it will continue as it was before this conversation took place.â€?
    For the most part this was true. They continued to talk, share poetry and dreams. She finally got the girl of his dreams to admit to her feelings for her poet friend and the poetess was left with great poetry to write.

THE REST OF THE STORY:
    The poetess began working on her own things, due to the fact; her two friends were spending more of their time together and not as a group. People drifted apart. The poetess continued periodically to stay in touch, but as time wore on and more and more promised visits and the get together’s were broken. She decided to let them go. One night many years and months later the phone rang and her poet friend was on the other end asking to hang out for coffee and some poetry. The poetess was renewed with hope that the friendship hadn’t died and accepted the invitation. The poetess met the poet at one of their old time hang out spots and had coffee. They caught up on the details. Friendly flirtations flipped.
    The poet informed the poetess that he had not stopped thinking about the what if, of the two of them. (Editor’s note: Poet and the girl of his dreams are now engaged and live in their own house, found out through the grapevine.) Poetess was slightly confused. Did girl of his dreams leave him? No, she is out of town visiting the family. Poetess continues the state of confusion. What do you mean us? He then in great detail spoke about their meeting where poetess took all confessed emotions (at least the romantic ones) and placed into the shoebox in the proverbial closet encounter, at the hang out place they never visited again.
    Poetess took a deep breath and said you’d better explain yourself and in greater detail. He then flattered her about her beauty and how he missed their conversations, but most of all wondered what sex between them would be like. Poetess flattered, pissed off and really hurt from the gapping wound left from the unwanted removal of the
s
hoebox remarked plainly that the friendship changing had not been her issue. As too her beauty, why can’t some untaken straight man with ethics tell her that. Then said the sex would be emotionless and mechanical, simply because the emotions you have asked me to retrieve have not been nurtured, and have been placed in a spot of respect for their friendship. All of their friendships he, the poet, she, the poetess and the girl of his dreams. The sacrifice that was made was of ones feelings for the greater good of all involved, now you are asking me to enter into a relationship that I wanted 8 years ago, without the right to call you my own. How well do you know me? What would the girl of his dreams say? He did not know because she does not know the conversation was taking place. The poetess asked, “what do you think she would say, considering she has a great many issues with competition, many insecurities and a desire for your undying love. True, it might be unrealistic of me to judge, but unless girl of your dreams is in love with me, then you might have much bigger problems. I am unsure I am qualified to deal with those issues and not sure I care to enter into this bargain since I gain nothing once again.�
    The poet friend quickly recovered with something witty and was careful to leave sleeping dogs lie with small talk, promises of getting together to keep their friendship alive and them leaving.

UPDATE to theory:
    Poetess has continued to live life to the fullest. She has shared the theory of being able to put romantic emotions successfully away in the proverbial closet. Friendship will come an go depending on the individuals and the basis and motivation of the friendship.
    The Singer (new to our cast) heard poetess’ theory and says it is bunk. Singer believes that there is no such thing as sex not getting in the way of a friendship between a female and male friendship. Singer stays the no she is not interested in all the men she is friends with, but you never know how they feel about you. Poetess defends theory by stating that it is possible for either the female or male who has the romantic feelings to put it to the side for the good of the friendship. Singer says that if they don’t end up in bed then fine, but usually there is no friendship. Both get into detail life experiences and dating issues and relationship issues and haggles an end to the discussion, the ability to agree to disagree.

New Story (abridged) (for all those who have heard it too many times)…
    New friendship, 10 years and running. Distance. Life happens. Keeping in touch. Poetess finds herself in a similar situation, but this time is unaware of the emotions. Decides to confess. (Confession is good for the soul. Beware the listener…) Boy confesses many things too, but had no idea the poetess felt that way about him. Boy also confesses he is in a new relationship and doesn’t know what to do. They continue long conversations. Boy goes on vacation. Boy calls more frequently with more questions about everything and the kitchen sink. Friendship continues. Boy knows poetess is interested in another party. Boy is still dating new girl. Poetess goes on vacation. When she returns to discover that 6 months have passed a no word from Boy.
    Singer, on trip with band and poetess to visit Boy before the vacation goes badly. Singer gets involved. Singer has very different perspective than poetess. Poetess argues, feels hurt, and moves on.
    Ending pending…

Meditation:
    Poetess lets go and lets live. Hurt, yes. New theory developing: never introduce your best friends to each other if they don’t know each other already. Poetess gracefully bows out. Part of her believes in the Boy and knows someday he will call to talk. Poetess and Singer still friends? Poetess forgives herself for loving Boy, and poet. Ponders that the issue isn’t the theory that has faults but the other women involved who don’t believe in themselves.
    Problem with theory is the hum
ans in
volved and no control group. Boy also knows about the poet. Shoebox theory evolution. No one wants to be in the proverbial shoebox.

Moral to the story:
In friendship we are so much more, but are we friends with ourselves first?


    

“It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.� I lost again, my friend Shakespeare.

    I seem to be a risk taker. Ripley’s give me a bumper sticker! Drum roll please. So much for women’s intuition. It is so amazing what a man in love with you can do for your sense of self-image! I did not mean to do it. An old friend came back to visit. I noticed some feelings, I didn’t understand and for six months I didn’t get it. He came back and then when he left I cried until my heart sank.
    I made one of the hardest decisions on my life: to tell one of my best friends that I had more than friendship feelings for him. I felt I had betrayed our friendship. Somehow I knew that things would always be different. So I took a leap of faith. I told him straight out how I felt. I asked what he felt. I told him the straight out truth.
    It’s been 5 months and no answer. I won’t get into the mixed messages and half-truths of this sorted mess. I won’t get into the I’m being punished with a deadly silence that shatters my soul. No, I’ve called with big news, little news, just to see how you are doing news, to the complete cold shoulder. If I knew this man at all, I would say safely that he is avoiding me because like all best friends I know way too much.
    Just be real with me. That is what all my male friends tell me and when I take there advise and just tell the man how I feel I get – SILENCE. I’m starting to think Machiavelli had something. Girls have always told me that I am all wrong. Men don’t really want anything they ask for, they can’t handle it. I should play the game. But see then it isn’t about two people anymore it is about power. That is a dangerous bedside tool. I’ll stick to straight up – TRUTH.
    I honestly don’t really think I have answers. I have to come to know that I didn’t really know my best friend at all. I wasn’t the most important person in his life. Or maybe I killed it. Either way, I deserve to know something. Not silence, from 4 to 5 calls a week and our weekly Saturday evening call. Boy was I gullible. Therefore if I lost something so precious it will hurt, and Sweet Jesus, it does! But I’m not really sure what I lost, because my best friend would never have done this to me. Et tu Brute! Or maybe he’s just spineless and better to know now than wait another ten years to discover it. Or was it just something I wanted to hear. Why couldn’t you just tell me the truth? Yes. No. It’s complicated. Anything besides this infernal silence. So, my friend, enjoy the silence…
    So what moral do I have for you… well just another Shakespearian quote “To thine own self be true.â€? In the end, I can look myself in the mirror and have no regrets. I was honest. Spilled my guts. Told the truth. And took a risk not too many people think I am sane for, of course I never said I was sane, just myself. I got to know my real best friend; I just forgot to look in the mirror.

    Love is out there! Somewhere… and too the lucky few who have the courage to go where most never dare to tread, may happiness find you every chance you get to find it!

Somedays I wonder how this world works, you can be in the middle of a crisis and then it's over, kinda like a hurricane, one minute life is normal (whatever that means) and then BAM (kick it up a notch) and then back to normal life, except it's not all the same as it was before, something is different. Maybe it's me, or no maybe its you. Hell maybe it is us both.

SIGH " A Mandan elder told me, when you don't know what to do pray, not so much like a WWJD, but when there is nothing left to be done, do the one thing you can control yourself and give yourself to a higher power." Before I left this wise and weather faced man I had asked him is there something you would do now with all your knowledge that you didn't when you were my age. His eyes twinkled in the evening light as the air dropped degrees cooling the earth and the meal I just served. He rocked in his chair, looked at me and motioned for a light for his pipe. He smoked it and I sat there waiting for the answer and I began to discover something, it is good to take your time with things. I began to feel just his presence, the aromatic scent from the pipe, the night descending on the prairie, I was homesick and thinking of all that the people I missed meant to me. He cleared his throat and I had forgotten that he was even there or what I had asked him. He looked at me and said "Yes?" I was slightly puzzled coming back to the moment we shared and then it struck me like lightning the question I had already asked him, the words evaporated long ago, but he looked at me and said " When I was young and foolish, I wish I would have known the power of prayer, the way I do now. SO when life pulls you this way and that, pray. PRAY!" He took a long drag on his pipe. "If you never remember me, remember my words to you, child, Pray!"