My Stress Relievers


I admit that the stress level I carry with me daily is high. I won’t explain why. I know for the most of you; you don’t need an explanation.

There is Al’s bedroom filled with a powerful illness, lots of vintage cars and plenty of coca cola items.

Then there is the rest of the house where I try to keep it peaceful and serene. I struggle to rid the stress. I have a hard time but I do survive through many prayers and my own handy work at feeling like I am not living in a sick house.

So here are a few photos I took tonight to let you see how I try to relax.

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If There is Truly a God and a Satan

Up until last night I was able to find the little things in life that bring me joy. But I have almost given up as the truth is inside this house, there is no joy.

Moaning, screams of pain, rambling on where no words can be understood. Doctors saying nothing else can be done are just more than I can handle any longer.

Al is so angry at God. This is all a new side I have never seen. He says God is ignoring him and for the first time I have to question whether there truly is a God.

With Al being mentally challenged and completely bed bound there are no lessons for him to be learning anymore. Al can not see beyond the pain any longer. I can’t accept the answers that God may be using his illness to teach me something.

In fact that just irritates the crap out of me. I want to scream out loud, Don’t even use my brother to teach me a lesson. For then the guilt I carry within seeing him suffer is way beyond the stability that I try to carry.

If God has a lesson to teach me or if God thinks that by letting Al continue to suffer it will back fire, because all I can feel is anger within at seeing him suffer.

The moments that Al is not asleep is pure hell here. His body is contracted, his body is burning up. His vision is total blur. His body doesn’t tolerate the high doses of medications he is on. There is no balance. If you give him higher dose he abuses himself from the opposite effect the medicine should have.

The doctors are refusing to give him anything else. They don’t know the answers either. And if they don’t know the answers after years of schooling how can anyone expect me to know them.

When Al is awake I can hear Al screaming out, ” Please, please help me. Somebody help me. God why aren’t you taking me home?” These are words that are repeated so many times I can not begin to count them.

I can bring no comfort, no joy to his life. I have begun to feel like Al and I are actually living in hell and if there is a heaven, then surely this will be his reward when he passes. I continue to beg God,” If you truly exist than take him home now. There is no more perfect moment than now.” But, nothing happens. Al is still here and suffers a little more each day.

My body is drained. Doing housework has become a chore. Christmas coming makes me want to vomit. The joy of listening to Christmas music and baking sugar cookies makes me ill.

If Satan has tried every trick he has then he is winning over Al and it is trickling into me also. If there truly is a God and a Satan, which one is winning?



The New Talk

I haven’t felt good all day. I have been cold. I have some sort of sniffles. My sugars have been low. Last night here at home Al and I had a different type of evening. Al was very calm. He spoke of wanting to make sure I got a Christmas gift from him to remember him by.

He talked about how he had forgiven family who had hurt him terribly. By the end of the evening it was five in the morning when he finally drifted off to sleep. The last words he spoke in that conversation were I see the ladder going to the sky.

It smacked me hard. Maybe he was right. Maybe he really wasn’t going to be here for Christmas. I went to my couch and laid down and got three hours of sleep before he called out to me in pain.

This morning though Al is a different person. Very chatty, laughing, smiling. He talked about his conversation with God last night. He spoke about my Christmas gift from him and asked the care giver if she would go purchase it for him. He spoke of the ladder to heaven in a very calm tone.

Since I didn’t feel well and still not top-notch I am laying on the couch more and watching the Inspiration Channel. There is a movie I have been glued to called One Last Christmas. I am always drawn to movies where there is an underdog. An ill patient.

It is almost over and then the theme song came on. Suddenly I started crying. The words in the song were exactly the same as my own thoughts were last night. This child has leukemia and doesn’t make it to Christmas. It is too close to home as Al feels the same way.

Here is the song. The words may not mean anything to you, but to me, they are mighty tree



Living is for the Breathing

castle 4Floating on the surface, waves gently passing me by. Fish tickling me as they swim by, life is good. Sun peeking out from foggy skies. I am alone. Only God is with me. I am forced to accept me for what I am able to do. I have to say hello, to hear my voice, but the only one who answers is me. Hearing the sound echo from the depth of my soul I recognize myself but never knew me before.

A tiny sperm helped mold me into the form I take today. Years of learning, hearing voices, recognizing right from wrong. Yet today I wonder if the decisions I make are right for me. While God is holding me above sinking ground I have no choice but to live or die.

Is one better than the other? Is death more beautiful than life? I have the opportunity to find out now, but no, I am not ready. Although many speak of glorious lights, golden paths, love being the air we breathe, how can that compare to what I see in my view today?

Would it make a difference if I could fly to heaven and see if it is what I have heard? Would it make living easier if I knew for sure something better was waiting at the end of the rainbow?rainbow 3

Could we live with our bad choices knowing the consequences will be short?

We live in the moment, we hope for the best. We error, we win, some times we weep in our pillow.

I have come to the conclusion that although there is fear of tomorrow and heaven is golden, we need what we are dealt with each moment here on earth. We would never appreciate the here after if our lives were not filled with tests.

One day my work will be done and God will call me home.  I will look back in my own book and smile as I know I gave all I had to give. The mistakes that I made will have been done without vicious intention. Desires that I dreamed of, wishes that went unanswered were meant to be.

Life is good. Heaven is wonderful. I am here for a purpose and I will decide to enjoy the rocks in the road. The valleys I will climb out of. The choices I make I will accept.

Living is for the breathing, looking back we won’t see our footprints. We have no choice, we either live or we die. Hold on to your hope, follow your dreams, one day you will close the last page of your book and you will smile.


canoeI can see myself in this picture. The sleek water, guiding me through virgin territory. Any where I look will be a new experience for my eyes. Cocooned in my little space of the world, breathing in crisp air, my lungs expand, spitting out debris that has been clogging my soul.

I need to feel alive. I wish  to be taken high above the trees. I want to look down on the world’s problems and with one thought, all will be healed. Life is too heavy. I have carried within me all of your problems. I am now ready to toss the cloak aside. Feel the skin tingle, as new cell growth takes over the stale mulch.

I lift my arms to the heavens and yell loud enough; my pleas echo across the lands. Ears will tune in but see nothing. Minds will mimic another soul that was once lost and now is found.

Cheers will go up around the world as another heart is freed. I will stand up and with God‘s balanced  hands I will praise his name for giving me the difficult tasks  I have performed. I will see his smile and his eyes will reflect in my soul of how he is pleased with me.

Oh that I might toss aside these grungy clothes, and stand naked in front of this earth and be made new once again. To take my experiences, my memories and sift through them. Picking out the best, leaning over the side I will vomit  the worst and I promise I will live once again.

And I will place myself in a fetal position and you will hold me next to your  bosom. I shall drink new life. My skin will turn supple, my eyes will sparkle. My sponge will expand, allowing me to learn more of this wonderous life you have offered to me.

Oh but I was a wilted flower leaning from a firm root, but now my petals are to be envied as they give off rich color and a perfume that will force you to always remember me.

Yes, life is good, but before I could see it clearly, I had to be cleansed.