Packing and Praying

I messaged my son earlier and I asked him to pray for me. I said “Please pray for me that I can do the work and be strong enough to go on with it”. He replied “Always do mom”. I said “Thank you”.

My recent Twitter posts were meant to be known and while I could have held back on the potty mouth it wasn’t all that necessary. Why? Truth. Because that’s the reality in it all. I have my dead daddy’s mouth and while I didn’t use those words when he was alive or even in the first 20 years after he left us I’m sort of proud that it really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. It only matters that I don’t drop those words if I want not to. It’s not beneath me otherwise. Why? Because I’m not above anyone.

Ozra is coming to pick me up on Saturday. We’re going to get this hair cut off. Yep. Most all of it. Short. Most likely to my shoulders or layered down a little farther. If there’s enough without going shorter, I’ll leave it with our girl who owns the shop to donate it.

I leave California the next day for awhile.

Threw some things away today, did dishes, cleaned up, and started packing.

Taking a break right now. I do still use my pennies carefully, but I don’t run out as quickly and that’s a good thing.

I posted about guilt some. The one thing I feel most bad about is not being able to work sooner to fix things before they got so out of hand. Carrying it all is heavy. If one person can’t carry it someone else has to. I did and I will. I have to.

I never stepped away from God and I never stopped praying. I did stop believing in hope even though I continued to be hopeful for one day.

I’ve always known I’d have to live it hard to understand it. Understand what pain is, poverty, loss, and rejection. To love so deeply that it hurts. That’s why I understand that people sometimes have to choose roads that another would never go down and many pretend don’t even exist.

I’m not looking for an easy life yet I’m hoping there’s at least an easier one out there. Hard is good. We learn. Too hard can have devastating circumstances, consequences that can’t be taken back.

My mom said “The reason you’ve gone through it all is because you have a place in heaven”.

I don’t deserve heaven.


But maybe she’s right.


Playing in the dirt isn’t bad, but it’s much more fun rolling around in the mud. Especially when it’s nice and gooey.


What do we need to fix it she asked. I don’t know it’s still plugged, he said. Well can we start with that again then, she answered.

Pain and disability. People give away the ability to take care of the things that should matter. They become locked in their own minds and that’s where they stay. We can’t help people that aren’t ready to be helped and we can’t force someone to change things either.

One either has to do it themselves or leave it using what’s available on hand and cope with it.

What else can we do. New coping strategies develop to survive through the obstacles.

I’m not sure how I’m going to do all of it. Asking any questions just puts a damper on us.

Money isn’t important to me other than for what needs to be paid for by it.

Pay for it then.

We all have problems and we all have ability.

If I had boy parts it would be easier.

But I don’t.