...random thoughts, opinions and secrets on children... aging... cooking... crafts... nature...divorce...second chances...
and whatever else I deem curious...
~Copyright 2017. Hootie~

Sunday, May 28, 2017

Hoping in Tomorrow...

I don't have writer's block.  When there isn't anything posted, it is because I am dumping my thoughts on my private blog, or in my paper journal.  It means I am trying to decide what to share next. My personal goals are to accept how my life has played out.  I need to understand it, and why things happened as they have.  I need to understand my role, my needs, and my desires.  I am moving forward with my life.  If my writings can help someone else along they way, that makes me happy.  Not many truly understand what it is like to live with someone who has a personality disorder.  I didn't even realize that's what I was doing until I started to find my voice and put myself first. Our current political situation in America makes me feel the entire country is living through something very similar to what I have survived. The difference...  I was in the inner circle, and politically we are all at least one step removed.

I have been reflecting on what I have publicly written.  I do not have regrets for writing, but I realize that two posts ago I might have shared more than many people can handle.  As I re-read it, I know it doesn't sound like what happened could have been real.  It was.  I am glad that I documented in the moment exactly what did happen.  What I experienced was something that started long ago, nearly 33 years ago, and gradually built up.  I have been slow to mentally let things go, because I have had a lot to sort out.  It is something that I hadn't realized I had allowed to happen.  What I experienced was intense for someone in the line of fire. I have a little PTSD due to what I lived under, and it sometimes flairs up.  I am learning to recognize my triggers, work through them and not let them set me off.  Experience make us stronger.  There is risk in living, and in relationships.  Friendships are less risky than deeper, personal commitments.  When humans pair up, we trust that other person is on this ride with us, and are not working against us.  We trust they are going to build us up and be proud of our successes, not be jealous, or competitive and try to out do us.  I am a soul who loves deeply.. I know people are thinking, "I wish she would move on all ready", etc.  I am, and at the pace I've needed. And I've needed a lot of time! I realize that what I have shared has been incredible personal.  Sharing has been a necessary step in my healing.  My choice has been to write.

At this moment, I feel as if I have my hand on the door handle to my future.  You know that saying, When one door closes, Another opens up?  I feel like I am just about ready to turn the handle, open the door, AND in walking forward through the door, enter the next chapter of my life.

This is an exciting, yet scary time.  There is nothing standing in my way, except for myself.  Only my own fears are holding me back. I am still a little fearful.

Am I strong enough to speak my voice when I don't agree?
Am I able to let my opinion be known?
Am I ready to let down my guard and really open my heart to another?

Summer is here, and I think I'm ready for another adventure.

~Lisa Kroll
     spreading Love,
               and Understanding,

Sunday, May 14, 2017

To Date or Not To Date...

That isn't really the question.

HOW does one make connections so they can date?  
THAT, is the real question.

Dating sites in my 50's?!  
Not what I expected at this stage of life.  How can I learn to play this game?  I would love to meet someone who is looking for a friend to share his life, for a lover, a confidant, and a partner in crime*.

I have been with a few people since my divorce, but I haven't really dated.  In the Divorce Support Group I attend, it was suggest a divorced person really needs to allow one year to heal for every five they were married.  According to that schedule, I still have a few years to go.  I did have one on-again, off-again relationship over the past year.  I actually still really like that guy, and it doesn't take much for me to tell anyone who will listen about his great qualities.  He's a good person.  Unfortunately, we are just not at the same place in our lives.  I have nothing tying me down, while he still has the responsibility of his children, and I didn't get the feeling I was someone he wanted to go with on adventures.  He's got a lot going on in his life, and I know he will find the perfect person to fit into it.  That person just isn't me.   

What message does this picture send? 
I need someone who is ready to go on adventures.  I am experienced at playing old married couple, but I had anticipated I'd be traveling at this stage in my life.  With my children out of the house, the National Parks are calling me.  I want to check all 50 states off my bucket list as I explore the wonders each has to offer.  My passport is current, in hopes of being whisked away for even grander adventures in Canada, Ireland, Italy, France, Spain, Great Britain, Sweden, Brazil..and wherever else needs exploring.  I can do all this alone, but I'd like a partner to share this adventure.  I need someone who has disposable income and feels I'm worth spending that extra money on.  If that sounds harsh, or wrong, it's not meant to. Although nice, I don't need diamonds, but I do need adventure. I don't mind sharing the bill, but I need to feel wanted and just a little spoiled.    

I am told I just need to do those things I love and I'll cross paths with another like soul.  I hope that is true, but I am of little faith.  Will I?  Am I even approachable?  Will I ever really be asked out?  I am not getting any younger!!!

A man who is divorced in his 50's seems to wants someone who is in their 30's, they don't want a woman in her 50's.  Do older men even realize what they are missing out on?  Older women offer stability, and life experience, as well as their own financial independence.  

My experience with dating sites is, one gets what they pay for...

Free dating sites:

They are okay, but it's hard to filter out who talks to you.  Not wanting to be rude, I'm afraid I've spent too much time being kind and sending messages to people I will not date.  Talk is cheap.

Pay dating sites:

Depending on the site, you might be able to filter for location, social habits, education, etc. My experience is that there is a lot of activity for the first few weeks, and then because the pool of "fish" isn't very big, you are paying to look at the same fish.

Does this say, I volunteer?  I am capable?  
Being in my second year of my career, and loving my home and town, I don't really want to move so I can date.  Surely, there are more fish close to home worth looking at, and who want to look at me!?! Ones who just aren't in the pool because they are also intimidated by the nature of on-line dating. 
How do I reach this pool of fish?  

When I do check out the dating sites, I have certain parameters in mind. I assume others do as well.  I wonder, as my profile pictures are looked at, if guys are thinking is this someone I could share my time with, or more? That's what I want them to think, because I dislike feeling like just some fish who the fisherman will filleted and then discard.  It's hard to want spend my money on a site to meet people, when I'll be made to feel like I'm just a notch in some one's belt.  I think, regardless of ones age, dating sites are mostly a place where people turn to find someone to hook-up.  That's not what I am looking for in my life.       

Remaining positive minded and forward thinking, I have a list of what I'm looking for in someone. I trust that the Universe is listening to me.  

I want my someone to be older than me,
kids are fine - but no kids at home,
a non-smoker,
educated, a Masters or PHD is not necessary, but I enjoy smart conversations and so should he, and he will not be intimidated by the fact that I have my Masters. 
He will be someone who enjoys a nice glass of wine from a local winery or craft beer from a local brewery.
Grey hair is fine, in fact, I'd like him to have hair that I can run my fingers through, but this is not a deal breaker.
I'd like him to be taller than me, so I can wear my heels. Heels do make a lady feel sexy.  
He must love cats, and want to own a dog with me because I miss W but I don't want a dog by myself. Not yet anyway.  
And he'll love nature and the outdoors:
stars, sunsets, sun rises, the beach, the mountains, snow, the ocean, wild life and wildflowers,
he will be active and he will need to own hiking shoes/boots.
He will enjoy traveling/adventures and coffee shops.
He will understand my need to write.  
He will enjoy the food I make and will enjoy working with me in the kitchen.
He will be fit, but not too thin.  He will enjoy my curves.
He will play games with me and not mind when I pull Bananagrams out of my purse while we are having a drink at the bar, in fact, he might even suggest we go play trivia, just because. 
He will volunteer and want to give back to his community - more than just attending meetings, he will be a person of actions, putting his money where his mouth is.    
He will love music, museums, concerts, and live theater and want to attend events.
He will love my family and I will love his. 
He will laugh and know that life is short, so he will treasure the time we share together. 
He will have many friends, and share them with me, as I will mine to him, and he will enjoy people. 
He will be romantic and want to spoil me, and he will be healed from his past relationships. 
He will be spiritual, and respectful that I am still finding my way with my faith.  
Mostly, he will be ready for a partner, too.  

I know this is quite a list.  
Am I a dreamer?  Of course!  But, I believe in love and am ready for it to find me. 

          ~Lisa Kroll 
               Eating, Praying and Loving, still.

*figure of speech, this does not mean breaking the law and doing illegal things!!!  

P.S. I could write an entire post on how does one pick out the pictures they will display on a dating site...maybe I will.  Stay tuned!  

Friday, May 12, 2017

Emotional Manipulation...an example

Mother's Day... a day when we honor our mom.

More than likely, mom is the woman who carried us in her womb for nine months.  She protected, nourished and loved us, before we even entered the world.  When a man and a woman have a child, it is possibly the most intimate experience they can share. Not long ago, men weren't allowed into the delivery room, but now they are not only welcomed, but are active participants, being asked to cut the cord that binds their child to his or her mother.  The woman may carried their child, but the man is the witness.  He witnesses the growth of his child as he or she goes from being a home pregnancy test result, to a small bump that grows into the size of a basketball.  He witnesses black and white images on an ultra sound machine.  He is witness to that incredible event of the birth of his child.  He witnesses as the child travels from the safety of the uterus, through the pelvic bones, and out into the world where the first breathe is taken.  A man witnesses the transformation of the amazing body of a woman.  There is no doubt, a woman's body is truly amazing.

I have given birth to two children.  To me they are blessings beyond compare.  I no longer need to protect them as I once did.  The nourishment I offer is mostly emotional, with a side helping of real calories. I love them more than they can every possibly know.  They are two amazing human beings...a product of the childhood they were given.  

Mother's Day 2013

In February of that year, he had started pushing me away.  What was wrong with me?  I didn't seem to be doing anything right. I sought therapy to find answers on what I needed to do to help change myself for him, for us.  We were still sleeping in the same bed on Mother's Day.  When I awoke that morning, I turned to him and confessed that I missed "us", I missed being intimate.  Had I expected the lashing that followed, I would have remained silent, I would have kept my thoughts to myself.  

I didn't expect what followed.

me-What are you thinking?

            him - What are you thinking? 

me - I realize we are probably just going through something, but I miss our intimacy. 

           him - When did you see your therapist last? 

me-Two weeks ago, and I'll see her this week. 

           him - Why aren't you seeing her weekly?  Are you taking your meds?  
            Have you been taking your Xanax? 

me-The Xanax is only for panic attacks and I haven't needed those for some time now.

           him - What do you talk about in your sessions?

me-Well, I did tell her I miss our sex and she told me I need to back off and not push things. 

           him - What else do you talk about?  
            I mean, I know your sessions are private and not my business.  

me - Well, I worry about how much you ride, and you are the one who told me about Over Training Syndrome.  I wasn't even sure that was a real thing, so I googled it and you seem to fit all the symptoms. 

           him - That's part of being a high level, competitive athlete.

me - I know, I don't understand since I'm not an athlete.  

            him - That's absolutely right, you aren't.   

me - I just don't know any other high level athletes to compare my concerns about you to. I also am concerned because you seem more jovial with others than you are with me.  I'm just trying to figure out what I need to do to help this out.  I realize I'm a pleaser and I shouldn't worry.  I just feel like you give 150% of yourself to your cycling, and 150% of yourself to your job and there is nothing left for you to give me.  I feel like there isn't a balance.  I feel like all I get is a peck on the lips.

            him - "That's all I have for you." 
             You suffer from low self-esteem and you need to work on that.  It isn't my place to tell you daily that I love you, or that I find you attractive or that I think what you are doing is good. 

me - Well, do you feel that way about me though?

           him - Not all the time.  
           You are 49 years old.  When are you going to start taking care of yourself? You have a basket of pills under the bed and you are comfortable taking those to manage things rather than to exercise, and walking the dog doesn't count as exercise.  You need to get your heart rate elevated. 

me - I have so much to do around here.  I don't have time to exercise too.  

            him - What do you have to do?  

me - I have to shop, and cook, and clean, and walk the dog, and work. 

             him - Your priorities are off.  You need to find time to work out.  How much are you on the computer during the day?  How much are you on there morning, noon and night?  I challenge you to write down how much you are on either the computer or your iPad. 

me - You know, my mind just races.  I'm worried maybe you are having an affair. 

           him -  Is your goal to keep gaining weight?

me - I've actually lost 10 pounds since December. 

            him - Well, I can't tell. 

me - I don't care if you can't tell.  You can ask my doctor, they have official records. 

            him - "I'm not attracted to someone whose gut sticks out more than their tits.  
             Are you surprised to hear me say this?"

me - no (I was in absolute shock.)

            him - "I mean, come on (and he touched his own chest) have you looked at me?"  
                (exhale and pause) Do you want me to hold you? 
me - no

I took three xanax that day and emailed my therapist.  
Above is from my email.  Every word is true.  
This is what emotional manipulation from a Narcissistic looks like from the inside.  

I walked Winston as my escape after that conversation.  When I returned he asked if I wanted to go to Goose Pond and see what it was like.  He had asked me this once before.  That previous day we were to go after he went riding his bike.  When the time came for us to go, he was too exhausted.  Today I told him no thanks.  He asked if I didn't want to go because the birds were mostly gone.  I told him I really didn't want to spend any time with him.  

At my next therapy session my therapist told me I could believe what he tells me about myself, or I could go out into the real world and see what the rest of the world has to say.  She suggested I take a trip by myself.  You might recall that I went to the Grand Canyon on my walkabout.  Mother's Day 2013 was the catalyst.  

In September of 2013 he moved out of our bedroom.  In April of 2014 he moved out of the house.  On Mother's Day of 2014 he showed up at the house.  He was mad that I had changed the locks.  I told him he was the last person I wanted to see on Mother's Day.  He asked why.  I said don't you remember what you said to me last year?  His response, "I remember.  You're still in shock aren't you?" 

I needed to write this and share it publicly so I can be released.  I have held this in my heart every day.  When I look into the mirror now, I see someone who was hidden and is emerging.  I need the poison he fed into my soul to be out, and completely gone.  

I claim Mother's Day as mine.  

I do not suffer from low self-esteem.  
I am a warrior.  
I am roaring.

                  ~Lisa Kroll
                      Mother, Survivor, Love Warrior

Sunday, April 16, 2017

Practicing Mindfulness

I've been missing my mom these days...and my dad, and Winston, too.  

As the weather is getting nicer, I find I am wanting to wander in the woods, but that makes me feel extremely untethered. I don't want another dog right now, but I miss my hiking buddy.  I am working on learning to be comfortable in my untethered feelings, to enjoy my alone time, and on being mindful.  My alone time is not necessarily a good thing.  Certain tasks allow more time to ponder life.  Alone... I clean my house, and I think.  Alone... I mow my yard, and I think.  Maybe the reason I enjoy music so much is because it distracts my brain.  I am a thinker, but thinking when one is so alone can be dangerous.  My brain is still asking old questions and trying to rationalize what happened: How did I got to this point in life?  Why did things happen as they did?  Maybe if I... Maybe if this... Am I destined to be alone forever?  What if this is as good as it gets?  What if this is all I get?  What if I had my chance?  What if no one wants me? What if I'm too much for someone else to handle?  I know I am smart, strong spirited, capable, a problem solver, and generally, I have a happy heart.  I know I am empathetic, and kind.  A part of what brings me joy is my need to give back.  

So, what's wrong with me???  

I realize that's not the right question to be asking.  NOTHING is wrong with me. I remind myself that I spent almost 30 years trying to make everything in life perfect.  When things didn't go the way they were supposed to, I took the blame.  Whether it was my fault or not. Emotionally, I'm in limbo. I KNOW what I should be doing, but I don't know how to get to the next point.  I am learning to be intentional in my thoughts; to be mindful.  This is my plan B. When I start to feel down, I allow myself to feel the heaviness in my heart for just a few minutes, and then I breathe a few deep breaths.  I consciously think, 'why am I thinking these thoughts right now? I can't change how things are, but I can change my thoughts.' I try to identify my trigger, then, I acknowledge, right this moment, something that brings me joy.  I think about those things for which I am grateful.  It doesn't have to be something big.  It could be simple things like the tea I'm sipping, or Toulouse or Berlioz, or the smell of lilacs, as the scent wafts inside my house through my opened windows.  It could be as simple as my flowered bed sheets  or something funny that happened at school.  This is a conscious effort that takes practice.  

I have disliked weekends for a long time now.  I have a to-do list for school and one for home.  Both are extensive, so it isn't hard to work myself to exhaustion.  However, I know that in order to heal, I need to make, and take, time for myself.  I am working on finding balance.  This past Friday night, I stayed after school until about 7, even though I know I will be going back on Sunday to finish planning out my week.  Was I avoiding going home to an empty house?  Yes.  As I pulled into my neighborhood I could feel the loneliness creeping into my mood.  I'll be honest.  There are times when I think, maybe I should just have a few drinks, numb the pain, block out the loneliness.  Except, that isn't me. I am responsible.  Damn it!  

One time, about a year ago...I grabbed the bottle of Marker's Mark from my cabinet when I got home. I sent a text to one of my friends and my sister, knowing full well that my sister was busy.  "Here's what I'm doing...," I said.  My friend responded almost immediately, he's been through a divorce. He understands my pain.  He has healed, and is in his second marriage.  "Three shots only," he told me. I had to promise to put the bottle away.  I kept my promise.  It helped in the moment, but it didn't really help.  Also, I know it is unfair of me to put my burdens on others.  It doesn't matter if my sister, or my friends tell me they don't mind, it is not right.  I am reminded that life is not fair, but life is beautiful.  In order to see the beauty, we need to be proactive and live in the moment. So, plan B.  

Friday night, I knew I was starting to feel the weight of my untethered-ness. I allowed myself to acknowledge my feelings. I even allowed a few tears. Crying is a good way to release.   Tears released, I asked myself, why am I feeling like this?  Answer:  It's the weekend, and it's a holiday.  I don't have enough time to travel to be with my siblings and get done what I need over this weekend, so I will be alone.  I am also on my self-imposed sabbatical from church, and I don't want to attend another church on Easter, especially by myself.  So, no family and no church.  Deep breaths, and center.  I focused my thoughts on what I was grateful about at that very moment.  I was grateful that I had a house to come home to.  I was grateful that I had a bed to lay on, and kittens who are happy to see me. My kitties nuzzled my nose. My mood was shifting.  Earlier in the day, one of my cousins on my dad's side, had asked a bunch of us if anyone had a certain family recipe.  I did, but I was at school when she asked.  Remembering this request, I got off my bed, and I found that recipe.
circa 1963
I shared it with my cousins.  "Look!," I said, "bonus recipe, Pigs Feet!"  (Bleh!!!!) Our parents certainly grew up in a very different time.  

I thought about having a drink, but I came up with a different game plan.  What if I baked the blues away???  I went to the store and I picked up the ingredients to make Easter Cheese, plus a few other things.  I came home and went to work in my kitchen.  I turned on some blues...jazz blues and started creating. 
My Easter Cheese draining.  

First, I made the Easter Cheese.  As kids, my brother and I called it Egg Cheese.  Looking at the ingredient list, Egg Cheese makes sense. 


Over ripe bananas were on my counter...which lead to banana bread being baked.  I also whipped together some basil pesto.  I'll be making focaccia bread to go with the basil pesto and cheese tortellinis.  Fresh bread out of the oven cannot be topped!  

Another thing I know to be true about myself is that I am capable in the kitchen.  I love having a reason to cook and share my culinary talents with others.  

I wasn't planning on getting out Easter decorations, and then my sister unintentionally tore at my heart strings.  She started sending pictures of the decorations she had out. She was sharing decorations that our mom had made.  Crumbs.  Up to my attic I went.  I got out the bare minimum...only treasures crafted by our mother's hand...plus two critters she loved.  

Ceramic treasures created with love.  

I do miss my parents.  Having little treasures like these ceramic bunnies and eggs to pull out help remind me of the care my mom showed in all she did. I am very much like my mom.  Having the hand-written recipes above, remind me of previous generations.  As I read the Pigs Feet recipe, I recalled family members actually eating and enjoying these.  Uck!  It speaks volumes though about what they had or didn't have.  It also emphasized to me how resourceful our prior generations were.  Waste not, want not.

My dad would have celebrated his 84th birthday a few days ago, and my mom would have been 75 this year.  I feel their presence in my home, and in my heart.  

~Lisa Kroll

After my morning edits, I must add these Sunday notes: 

Before I went to write last night, my daughter called.  My kids wanted to use my house to share a movie with their friends.  They wanted to show their movie outdoors!  My house is, and always will be, my children's home.  When I returned from writing, I found my carport had been transformed into a drive-in theatre. Food was grilled, beer bottles opened, the porch swing was moved from out back, and camp chairs were scattered about.  Time for the movie.  

Before I had gone to bed, my kids asked if we could share the late morning today.  My heart smiled. When I woke this morning, I found one child and her bf asleep on the porch swing (it folds down into a bed). I made my way back into my kitchen.  Soon, the smells of coffee and cinnamon scones drifted out into the carport.  Banana bread and Easter Cheese were available, too. My son soon joined us and we had the perfect Easter breakfast.  
Cinnamon Scones

Easter Cheese...with salt

Happy Easter to all.  
God is great, and he has risen indeed!  
I am consciously mindful of how blessed my life really is these days.  

Sunday, April 09, 2017

What brings me joy...

birds singing
finding morels 
spring peepers croaking
deer romping through the woods
blossoms and leaves budding on trees
the color of spring wildflowers 
against the gray-brown ground
white clouds
blue skies

cats and dogs
wild grape vines
 the moon and the stars
turtles, snakes and owls
dark chocolate with a sprinkle of salt
red wine: a Malbec or Shiraz
meaningful conversations
holding hands

witnessing love
vistas at National Parks 
the sunrise each morning
sunsets at the ocean
romantic comedies 
captivating novels
playing games

walks on the beach
hiking in the woods
butterflies and fireflies
 tall green grass with dandelions
fresh air and windows open as I sleep
sea shells and snowflakes
salt lamps and diffusers
music and art

                                                               ~Lisa Kroll      

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Sunshine, Small Town Coffee Shops, and a March Snow

It snowed yesterday and last night.  Just a dusting, maybe an inch on the grassy areas and rooftops.  Humans and global warming are messing with the weather.  Living alone, I am the one who puts up the Christmas lights outside my house.  I am also the person who needs to take them down.  I have that task on my list of things to do later this week...it's spring break here, and I'm having a stay-cation.  I don't mind staying home, I have plenty "to do".  As my lights aren't on my list to come down until late in the week...I flipped them on last night.  The rebel in my soul smiled.  Take that unspoken rules!  Twinkle lights on, during a March snow.  

Breaking from my norm, today I am meeting a girl friend.  I still cannot hear.  In addition to not hearing, I also seemed to be unable to read.  Our text clearly says 1o'clock.  I read it as 10.  Time for an adventure!  I spent a short time reassuring my friend I am perfectly fine.  My bad, I read our message wrong.  I'll see her, when I see her.  Then, I checked google maps...what local coffee shops are here?  I am a lover of small town coffee shops!  I am out of town for the day.  It feels good to break from my routine.  It's refreshing to go where I can watch the world around me, while I contemplate about how blessed I truly am.  

Friendships.  I know I've said this before, they are precious to me.  Every chance I get, I love connecting with my friends. Most particularly... I cherish connecting with this friend.  She's been my confidant for a very long time.  Sometimes, I feel like she's my guardian angel here on Earth.  I am not sure she understands how much she really means to me.  I know we 'watch' one another on social media.  My heart radiates happiness when I see pictures of her smiling with her own children, or with her grandchildren.  Our friendship is deeper than that though.  She knows my secrets, both from long ago and more recent.  She knows my heart ache, and she knows my joy.  She is witnessing my rebirth.  When I stumble and am feeling like I'm free falling, her words scoop me up, and ground me.  She is to be credited with helping me move forward emotionally.  I don't think there is anything I wouldn't do for her.  

We all need a friend like this.  We all need a friend who truly loves every ounce of our being.  A friend who accepts us as we are, whether we are perfect or not.  We all need someone to whom we can tell our deepest secrets.  I believe we all need this kind of a friendship, and it needs to lay with someone with whom we aren't romantically involved. And we all need this friend, who can, on a whim, meet us for lunch...even when they don't live in the same town.   

As I look out on the busy main street, the sunshine streaming in is warming my body.  I am watching the people who are entering and dining in this little place.  Groups of men...co-workers, maybe and several couples.  Many couples are older, the one nearest to me is sharing a BLT.  They are talking and laughing.  I can't hear details of the conversations, but I can hear the laughter and feel the happiness that is adding to the ambience.   Local coffee shops are on the fringes of mainstream life.  Friendships, like coffee shops, can offer a place of safety, a place of connectedness, and a place of peace. 

I am grateful for my adventure this morning, and the opportunity to witness the happiness of others.  

I am grateful I have a friend whom I can hug.  I can't wait to see her!  


Sunday, March 12, 2017

How to Heal...

Gosh, I wish there was an instruction book for this. 

I am currently dealing with an ear infection.  It is s-l-o-w to heal.  I did one round of a Z-Pak, called the doctor because I felt it wasn't working on day five, and they told me to be patient.  

Hey, I have a joke for you.  
I'll be Person A (PA), you can be Person B (PB).  

PA:  Knock, Knock
PB: Who's there? 
PA: Impatient Cow. 
PB: Impa...
PA: MOO!  

This is not a new realization: I am tolerant, but I am not a very patient person.  

I have been without my hearing in my left ear for over a week.  Today is day 10.  I feel it is suddenly going to come back any minute, or in an hour, but I have felt like this for the past three days.  I am tired of not being able to hear.  I can handle being sick, but not hearing....ugh. 

When my dad died back in 1985, I thought my family would never heal from that loss.  We did though.  Time seems to have a magical power.  With time, one is allowed to put distance between the hurt and reality; so one can deal with the stressors.  Time doesn't make it, the thing that caused the pain go away.  Wouldn't THAT be wonderful! Instead, time allows the stages of grief to progress.  Time allows healing to take place, so one can rationally accept how life plays out.  Time allows us to deal with pain and loss, and take away lessons.  In the same way, time is needed for a body to heal from illness. I know my mind needs to relax.  I am sitting in a holding pattern right now.  Clearance to land, has not yet been granted.  

My divorce has hurt my soul more than I'd like.  I wish I could just heal all ready from that.  I don't want to be angry.  I don't want to be sad.  I don't want to feel so alone.  But, I also don't want to forget.  I don't want to be hurt again.  I want to be confident and secure with myself.  I want to feel like someone another might want to hang out and be seen with, and share time.  I feel I don't have many friends who are single and my age.  I am living with the 'odd man out' feeling.  I am aware of not being invited to do things, I mean really, who wants to have the divorced woman sitting there?  Awkward.  I get it.  Conversations, both spoken and silent, become uncomfortable...'hey, Lisa, there's a guy for you.'  Funny, but not really.  I am sensitive to conversations.  When you hang out with married people, guess what gets talked about? I have no one to complain or brag about.  I go home to my cats.  Who wants to hear stories about my cat's antics all the time?  I love my pets, but I don't want to become a crazy cat lady.  When you hang out with single people, those conversations have a certain theme too.  Oh time, work your magic on me, please.   

Time does not heal.  It only offers spacial distance.  In order to truly heal, one needs to learn from the past, make changes, and be proactive.  Only then can one move forward.  This spring I am trying to make changes.  I need more friends.  Oxymoron, I know.  Social being needs more friends.  It's true.  I need more friends.  I need people in my life who want to do things.  I need to find souls who want to get out and have fun.  I am dying slowly each day just working and coming home, and being sick hasn't helped my state of mind.  I can easily be a work-a-holic, but I don't want to be.  I need to nourish the other parts that make up me.  I need to get out!  Being proactive, I have signed up for a class.  Learning and music are two things I enjoy.  In a few weeks, I'll start a five week class on the History of Jazz in my community.  I can't wait!  I am also looking seriously into joining a writing group.  

In the mean time, I turn the music up and dance like no one is watching!  Literally.  My custodian walked in on me last week one night after school.  He said, I guess you still can't and didn't hear me knocking.  He was right.  I kept dancing.  

And I will keep dancing....

~Lisa Kroll
      slowing healing, but healing.  
      turning the music up, and dancing.
      grateful for all I have, and smiling. 

Blogging music:  I had my headphones in so I would look cool.  Ed was playing, after I tried listening to some new stuff on Spotify.  Honestly, I had Adagio for Strings (Samuel Barber) on my brain.  I heard it playing on the radio before I walked out the door.  The Dover Quartet was on A Prairie Home Companion - rebroadcast of Nov. 12, 2016. I am an NPR junkie.  What a beautiful, emotion filled song.  I also had the image of my ballerina and her friends dancing on stage to this song, with a single spot light shining on them from stage right.  Images are powerful.  Music triggers memories, and smiles.