BFP-fingers crossed

Well some people know at least those who read this blog that I have been trying to have a baby. I am forty-four (cue to cringe) I know it seems old to try unless you are a celebrity but try I must.

I started a couple months ago, tracking dates, getting lab work done, having a physical, working out, taking vitamins etc. Then I went to an infertility doctor (serious stuff, desperate waiting room) who did something called a clomid challenge test. My initial labs were good and my CCT labs were good and we are almost sure I ovulated just missed it by a day. To quote my very serious doctor "Good Response for an old chick".

This month I had two IUI's, that's when they put the sperm (all spun washed and tidy) into your uterus so that your chances improve. I did this after another round of clomid an LH surge, a couple scans and a trigger shot, the shot helps to make sure you ovulate in a predictable little window of time. This was not fun or comfortable but I was very sure it was going to work...why wouldn't it?

I have never had a difficult time getting pregnant, I have a healthy body, my lab tests were impressive for "my advanced maternal age" and I timed this cycle perfectly, All my I's dotted all my T's crossed.

In this new age of reproductive technology I am officially DPO 10 that means ten days past ovulation. My little fertilized egg should have found a nice cozy spot in my uterus by now (implanting happens between DPO 6 and 12) and Hcg should begin to enter my system (the pregnancy hormone that makes you barf and have boobs like Selma Hyak). Symptoms may appear this early but not all the time which is good because none have except the hunger but I am always a hungry girl, and I already own a version of Selma's boobs.

I did what most women who are in this two week holding pattern do and obsess. We start peeing on sticks before the sperm has even found it's way to the egg. I am no exception I have pee'd on a whole lotta sticks in the last two days but today I was sure I would get a BFP (Big Fat Positive) instead it was BFN (Big Fat Negative.

This could mean that the egg never fertilized and instead of a baby I will get the dreaded days of bleeding and binging. It could mean that the egg has not seated itself yet and I am not producing enough Hcg to be detected on a pregnancy test. It could be that my stubborn little egg is waiting until the last possible minute to enter its 38 week home.

I am Being emotional because of the hormones that occupy a woman this time of the month, the hormones injected, inserted and swallowed. The rational non-hormonal person might take this all in stride and say "well we will just have to wait and see won't we and if not this month next month" Oh no, the hormonal woman can only count days over and over, and worry every moment. She needs this, she must have this, and how can she possibly wait. It is sweet torture, it is almost like climbing a mountain. The summit is there and you can see it but after hours of hiking it doesn't feel much closer.

This was my big shot at being a mommy, I have three days to produce a little Hcg or I will have to go off the prometrium (a progesterone they give you to help you build a happy nest for your baby) my cycle will start all over again...a cycle I refuse to acknowledge.

There is no trying again, this is it. We can't adopt our combined age is too old. I have no interest in foster care, I could never give a child back, too hard. So it has to work.

Where are you Stevie, My Sweetness?

I found this poem today after typing in "Where are you Stevie, My Sweetness" into the google box of my computer. Not sure why I typed it in, maybe if we are all just energy it would be a good way to communicate, maybe I just needed to type it in...

I opened this link not sure what I would find and there was this beautiful treasure waiting for me. It is perfect in everyway and speaks to the depths of my being. This poem could have been written by my own heart.

Stevie tell Khalil Gibran thank you for his beautiful poem and thank you my sweet girl for helping me find it this morning. I love you, I love you, I love you...

Mom




Where are you, my beloved? Are you in that little
Paradise, watering the flowers who look upon you
As infants look upon the breast of their mothers?


Or are you in your chamber where the shrine of
Virtue has been placed in your honor, and upon
Which you offer my heart and soul as sacrifice?


Or amongst the books, seeking human knowledge,
While you are replete with heavenly wisdom?


Oh companion of my soul, where are you? Are you
Praying in the temple? Or calling Nature in the
Field, haven of your dreams?


Are you in the huts of the poor, consoling the
Broken-hearted with the sweetness of your soul, and
Filling their hands with your bounty?


You are God's spirit everywhere;
You are stronger than the ages.


Do you have memory of the day we met, when the halo of
You spirit surrounded us, and the Angels of Love
Floated about, singing the praise of the soul's deed?


Do you recollect our sitting in the shade of the
Branches, sheltering ourselves from Humanity, as the ribs
Protect the divine secret of the heart from injury?


Remember you the trails and forest we walked, with hands
Joined, and our heads leaning against each other, as if
We were hiding ourselves within ourselves?


Recall you the hour I bade you farewell,
And the Maritime kiss you placed on my lips?
That kiss taught me that joining of lips in Love
Reveals heavenly secrets which the tongue cannot utter!


That kiss was introduction to a great sigh,
Like the Almighty's breath that turned earth into man.


That sigh led my way into the spiritual world,
Announcing the glory of my soul; and there
It shall perpetuate until again we meet.


I remember when you kissed me and kissed me,
With tears coursing your cheeks, and you said,
"Earthly bodies must often separate for earthly purpose,
And must live apart impelled by worldly intent.


"But the spirit remains joined safely in the hands of
Love, until death arrives and takes joined souls to God.


"Go, my beloved; Love has chosen you her delegate;
Over her, for she is Beauty who offers to her follower
The cup of the sweetness of life.
As for my own empty arms, your love shall remain my
Comforting groom; your memory, my Eternal wedding."


Where are you now, my other self? Are you awake in
The silence of the night? Let the clean breeze convey
To you my heart's every beat and affection.


Are you fondling my face in your memory? That image
Is no longer my own, for Sorrow has dropped his
Shadow on my happy countenance of the past.


Sobs have withered my eyes which reflected your beauty
And dried my lips which you sweetened with kisses.


Where are you, my beloved? Do you hear my weeping
From beyond the ocean? Do you understand my need?
Do you know the greatness of my patience?


Is there any spirit in the air capable of conveying
To you the breath of this dying youth? Is there any
Secret communication between angels that will carry to
You my complaint?


Where are you, my beautiful star? The obscurity of life
Has cast me upon its bosom; sorrow has conquered me.


Sail your smile into the air; it will reach and enliven me!
Breathe your fragrance into the air; it will sustain me!


Where are you, me beloved?
Oh, how great is Love!
And how little am I!

22

Twenty two years ago I gave birth to a little girl.

For nineteen years she let me love her and she tenderly loved me back.

Today I watched the sunset over Mt.Diablo as I placed fresh fruit and an armful of beautiful yellow tulips (yes, real tulips in September, thank you Teresa) on her grave. It was quiet and calm and a family of deer came down the hill and danced on the lawn looking for blossoms to nibble. I knew once I left tulips would be desert.

I love thinking of the two little fawns tasting flowers, apples, and pears as the sun turned from pink to that bruisy blue. Stevie would love to be surrounded with such sweetness.

My heart is full of things to say but I think tonight I will keep all those words in my heart.

The night sky is indigo now, and there is a crescent moon, a wishing moon and I wished my girl a happy birthday...I wanted to wish her home, wish me were ever she was but I simply wished her love on a day I will never forget, a day that changed me forever.

Stevie,

I love you, I love you, I love you...if you were here I would bake you a giant chocolate cake an put a million candles on it. If you were here I would kiss you until you begged me to stop. If you were here I would ask you question after question and hold you so tight you could never leave again.

I don't know where you are lovey I just pray everyday that in that sacred place you have found you are floating in a sea of bliss.

I am opening windows, it worked for Mrs.Darling, I am hoping you will come home after you awfully long adventure.

Don't be too far away...

Mama

Hope

I get a lot of emails from family, friends, but mostly from people I have never met. They find the blog and read backwards. Some have lost a child, some a parent and some are attracted to the story like a car accident.

It is always a positive experience for me. I am comforted by the caring emails, it feels good to write a little bit about my girl when people ask, and I like to think that I am helping someone else who has just stepped off the train where they sat next to their child and out onto the platform where the train leaves taking your child, your heart and all your hope.

There is a destination, and someday that train will be back for you but until then you are here, in this new place. It all looks familiar but everything has changed. As mothers who have lost children we stand out to each other. It is like we wear a secret tattoo. It is a club no one wants to belong to but it is a very big club none the less.

If you have just stepped off the train here is a survival guide.

1. Cry. Cry loud, cry hard, and cry as much as you need to. Cry in front of your children, your friends, your family and complete strangers. Stop your car, pull over and cry. Break down at dinner, walk out of a movie, cry in a park, in your shower, cry until your body just can't do it anymore.

People will get nervous, feel uncomfortable, and well meaning people will tell you to pull it together and be strong for your children. Ignore them. You have lost your child and you are broken, crying is a natural response to pain and there is no reason to suppress that or feel guilty. Your children will see you cry and it will not hurt them, how could you not cry, you are so sad because this families child is so loved. You are letting them know it is OK to mourn and express your grief. As you begin to heal, they begin to heal.

2. Do not look at the clock. Time is different here and minutes last a lot longer than they use to. There is a part of you that wants the hands to stop, wants the whole world to stop and be here in this unreal space of time with you. Then there is the part of you that wants the years to go by as fast as they can so you don't have to live in all those hours.

You will hear "Time heals" it's bullshit. Time only offers distance, healing happens when it does, how it does, and it is never finished. Healing is a process of the soul, not of the body. There are no rules, you will not be better in a month a year or a decade. You learn to live with this loss, it never goes away, your heart won't let it. A vacation, a new baby, a new house, a better job, nothing fills the void. What you learn to do is live in spite of it, because of it, and yes you are stonger than you were before it.

No one gets to tell you when and how. No one can guide you, help you, fix you. This is your journey and it is deep, intimate, and sacred. There are no clocks here only heartbeats.

3. Look for signs. It doesn't matter what church you go to, what you were raised to believe, or if you believe in nothing. All of it disappears. This is a dark and quiet night of the soul. You are alone. Here in this alone place magic happens. Every cell in your body is waiting and watching and things happen. Songs will play and have meaning they never had before. You will find small ordinary things that are suddenly extraordinary. You will wake up in the middle of the night and feel kissed, flowers will bloom in odd places, you smell something that reminds you of something you can not name. I promise you these things will happen.

I don't know why these things happen or what they mean but they do. Get a journal and write them down. Don't try to make them mean something, don't share them with people who would not understand. These are private things meant for you.

4. Stay away from people who don't know better. It sounds cliche but the people who will be most helpful to you from this moment on may be the people you least expect, they may even be people you did not know before.

Here is the deal: When the funeral is over people need to go on with their lives. It isn't bad, it isn't uncaring. This is how it goes and you have accept that. The traffic will still be jammed in the morning, the banks will open on time, people will be rude in line at the grocery store. Your whole world has changed but you are the only one who noticed (well, you and the thousands of us who belong to this club). You are going to get mad and you will feel a little betrayed but don't stay there, move past it as fast as you can. This isn't personal it is just nature.

You will find that people will try to say all the right things and fail terribly.

You will find the people you thought would sit silently by your side and sooth you during this time will seem farther away than they have ever been.

You will find some people will actually get frustrated with your sadness, they want the old you back and try tough love you back to your old self.

None of these people are wrong, they just are.

They don't understand and you would not want them to understand. You have to let these people go. This does not mean cut them out of your life it just means that you have to understand that these are not your support people. You can still love them and let them love you but from an emotional distance.

Here is the beautiful thing, you will find people who for some reason you can't explain will arrive in your life and know just how to be with you, just what to say and are strong enough for your tears and your stories. I promise.

[Note: if money is involved in anyway these are not your people, run]

5. Allow yourself to feel good. In real life we are always trying to stay balanced, as women we find it easy to sacrifice what feel good for what feels right. As mothers we put ourselves last not because we are martyrs but because our instinct shows us how to distribute resources.

It is time to be selfish. Pull your kids out of school and drive to the Grand Canyon without any plan other than enough money, a full tank of gas and the desire to see something beautiful. Stay up all night looking at the stars and talking to the moon. Bake a big chocolate cake and eat the whole thing by yourself, dance naked in the rain, spend the day in the woods collecting pine cones, write a book, climb a mountain.

Avoid the real world, indulge in things that are good for you, break old rules, be spontaneous, live.

There is one thing you have learned and that is that this life does not last forever and there are no rules about when you go.

Lay in bed all day and watch TV, turn the stereo all the way up and sing and cry, fill the house with flowers and candles, plant fruit tree's, paint the house orange if it makes you feel better.

There are some people who worry that this anarchy will lead to insanity, to chaos, and your ultimate demise. I think it's the opposite, I know it's life affirming. If there is one time in your life when indulgence is not only a good idea but life saving then this is when it should happen.

[This advice does not include drugs, alcohol, or any other harmful behavior that would hurt you or hurt someone else.]

6. Don't give up. I know that the one thing you want most is to be with your child. You are praying to a God you are mad at or a God you never believe existed and you are saying "I want my child back" I know that you have considered leaving this life to be with them or to at least be in a place that does not hurt anymore even if it means being no where at all.

You are not crazy. You are sad.

Trust me, leaving is not a good idea and not really an option. My daughter use to say "Don't waste it" and it would be a crime against your soul to leave when you are meant to stay.

Your child is now free from the body that hurt, the body that could no longer survive here. The timing sucks for you but it makes sense someplace else. If it were a perfect world they would be here or you would understand why they are not.

To leave is to give up and we are not designed to give up. We are here for a reason. You have work to do. It bites, if anyone knows I do. There will be a time when you are ready to go, when your work is done but it isn't now. You have to be invited back home, grief is not an invitation to die it is a dare to live.

Choose life, it is a way to honor your child.

This dark night passes, your heart will never be the same but the sun comes up and you learn to live with half a heart.

7. Expect Change. Everything has changed, food tastes different, there is a color missing from the spectrum, and you feel like you are walking around in a dream you can't wake up from.

Something bigger has changed and you are stronger, less afraid, and the silly small stuff is white noise in your life. You feel disconnected from everything that use to matter and suddenly connected to something bigger you can not name.

Losing a child is like having a baby backwards. There is a rhythm to it, it has waves, contractions. The acute moment is closest to the first and the last breath.

Time will offer distance from those waves that crash so close together. You will stop crying as much, you will begin doing things you use to like paying the bills and getting the laundry done. You may even go back to work.

Don't be surprised if the things that felt important before don't feel important now. It is easier to let things go because you have a feeling there is something else waiting.

Most of us on the platform have changed jobs, left hurtful relationships, written books, started foundations, learned to play a musical instrument, go back to school, find a new hobby, adopt a child, move to a new city, try yoga, become support people, find new things to love just a little.

You are not the same person. You sent a part of you off with your child and like starfish we grow new parts.

7. Children. Most women who lose a child in their childbearing years become pregnant within a year. Mother nature knows what she is doing. If you are in a healthy relationship and you are moved to do this I think it is beautiful.

If you are past the fertile years and you want to adopt, how lucky for a child waiting all this time for a mother.

If you have children...

Those well meaning people who love you but say all the wrong things will say (and I guarantee this) "Your other children need you now and/or at least you have your other children" I think the worst is, "Your still young you can have other children"

It is easy to see how that might seem comforting but really it is insulting. Let the words dissolve, don't even let them enter your mind where they will turn into ugly thoughts.

Do fall in love with your living children. Give yourself time, and give them time.

Don't be afraid to have a baby. This does not replace the child you lost but helps you believe in love again, teaches you to hope.

Don't feel like you need to apologize for not wanting another child, only you and your heart know what is good for you.



This could go on forever and maybe I will add to it as a journey farther. I have a little boy that needs a lunch made and a kiss before school, a lab that is waiting for me to arrive at so they can check my hormones and see if a baby is possible, and a job that requires me to be there.

Life is not perfect and I am far from the person I hope to become. Today I have hope and that is a big deal. To have hope is to believe that it can and will get better.

It will. Keep Traveling.

I am home with the flu, a gift from my sweet boy and his bunk mates at camp. He is recovered and doing well and is being a love and getting me ice water, giving me head rubs, and teaching me camp songs.

This is a strange summer...I can't put my finger on it, maybe it is the unusual weather, a quiet house, or business that requires my attention. It just doesn't feel like a real summer yet.

I have been in a bummed out crappy mood. I feel restless, sad, a little frustrated, and disconnected. Because this is a blog about grieving and surviving I think it is OK to talk about the long term fall out. For me there was the acute period of absolute pain. There were whole days when I didn't even want to breath, everything hurt, those days quickly turned into days that were doing, doing, doing. If I kept myself busy I didn't have time to think, remember, or fall apart. I felt like I was healing but I would crash and burn, then get busy again.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months and now it has been two years. For most people that seems plenty of time to move on and leave behind the crying days. I think what people don't understand is that there is no moving on. The moment I kissed my daughter for the last time, before they zipped up that ugly bag and took her body away was the last moment I was me.

I didn't die or disappear, my body looks the same, my life looks similar but everything has changed. This life I live is a broken version of the life I had before. I wobble around in it. Noah still needs a lunch packed, Aly still wants to argue about how she understands life much better than I do. Steve still wants me to be the person he met 25 years ago. The bills need to be paid, groceries purchased, a house cleaned, dentists to see, mammograms, school supplies to buy...

Everything still moves and turns but without the person I love most. I am learning to live this way, it isn't a choice really but I have not learned to live this way with joy, hope, and happiness.

I know several women who have lost children. One woman I know went to all the right therapists, did all the right things, and has chosen to celebrate her daughters life rather than focus on her death. She finds comfort in talking to her, talking about her and wrapping herself in her husbands love, and the love of her children and grandchildren. She is an inspiration.

Most women who lose a child, who are of child bearing age become pregnant within a year. It is easy to understand why, and I know if this option where available to me it would have helped me in a big way. I am very angry that it is not. I know that the act of bringing a life into the world would restore hope and belief.

There are women who can not bear this loss and I understand that. There is no one on this planet that will argue that the loss of a child is the most painful thing a woman will ever have to endure. I know women who have taken there lives and women who still have bodies that live but they don't live in them. This scares me.

Many women put their energy into a cause, they raise money, write books, start foundations. This cause is not unlike giving birth to another child.

There is a spectrum to this like most things I'm not sure it is a very big one but we all fit somewhere on it, I'm not sure where I fit yet, I'm all over the place.

I fear being stuck in a dark place but I know I am not able to celebrate my daughters life. Noah wraps himself around me and he saves me but everything else feels like an enormous rocking sea. I am tired of being busy just to be busy. I desire to find happiness, I would love to have more children.

I know I can live with this pain, missing my girl, and not understanding. I am doing it. I think I can do more than what I am doing. I know I still have a well of strength I have not accessed yet. I have an idea of what I want my new life to look like but I just don't know how to navigate this ocean and make my way to that shore.

I need a soft spot to land, a life that is easy, I need good weather, music, time to heal and a beautiful place to do it. I need to escape this place where the old me use to live. I want a vacation from stress, drama, and work. I want to sit under a big tree with Noah and read stories. I want to eat outside, walk on the beach, float in water, I want to write long letters by candle light, I want to watch the sky turn pink wrapped in a blanket on the top of hill. I want to make art for myself, sing in the kitchen and go barefoot everyday.

I want a real summer that lasts and lasts and lasts.

I am sitting at Whole Foods with the pink cupcake computer I bought a while back. They keyboard is so tiny I feel giant and fumbely. I just ate a huge dinner; curried veggies, tofu with peanut sauce, some garlic potatoes and a fat slice of Lemon cake. The sun shining through the window is keeping nice and toasty even thought they have the A/C turned up to Arctic in here. It is a little surreal blogging in a grocery store but I have an outlet and a connection how could I not.

I am alone, it feels weird. Aly and Steve went to see Hang-over I not so politely declined. I have been labeled "No Fun" by the two of them but I don't feel very offended. I'm sorry I just can't spend two hours of my life watching people get smashed testicles, knocked out teeth and near misses everywhere else. I'm not a fan of stoner movies, parodies, or Three Stooges humor. I also don't like practical jokes or those damn videos where someone always gets hurt. Maybe I am no fun but pie-in-the-face just doesn't do it for me.

I like my humor a little dry or a little dirty, I also like to soar just a tiny bit over my head where I have to reach a little. I also like sweet humor. Last night I went to Walnut Creek to see Away We Go. It was a sweet, funny, smart movie. It wasn't blockbuster material it was a quality film that I am very glad someone made. I wish more films were as thoughtful.

Noah is still at camp and I miss him like crazy. It is quite boring without my little man tagging along, singing his songs, trying everything he can to score desert and cuddling up next to at bedtime.

I know he is having a great time, I can feel it. I can see him at campfires with his new summer buddies, eating big, sunburned cheeks, rowing boats and learning how to use a bow and arrow. I am proud of him, and I am proud of myself for not letting my fear override my knowing. He deserves this magical and caring week.

I am once again at some crossroad. It doesn't have a name it is just a very real feeling that sits just below my heart. My life is about to change my fingers are crossed it is good change. I was telling one of my very dearest friends Teresa that I am ready for something good to happen, something light and feathery to rain down on me and fill me up with hope and a reason to get up before the sun.

I know we all are responsible for making good things happen, we should be attracting what we desire most, inviting the universe to move us into our desired direction. I am just not strong enough to make that happen at the moment. I need the universe to take charge and give me an amazing brilliant magnet to pull me in. I know it's possible, and if it can happen in a heartbreaking way it can also happen in a beautiful life changing way.

There is a woman sitting in front of me, I can't tell her nationality, she has Asian eyes but they are the lightest hazel, her skin is olive and she has a spray of tiny freckles on her cheeks and across her nose. Her hair is black and pulled back in a shiny ponytail. The reason she has my attention is that she is eating a large gelato and reading a book. It isn't the book or the gelato but the expression on her face as she is reading and enjoying her treat. She looks totally blissed out, her bliss is rubbing off on me.

Teresa told me that I need to look for those feathers from heaven all around me and simply be in a moment. If something is pretty it is pretty, if it smells good, it smells good, if I have a fleeting moment of pleasure then be in that fleeting moment.

This woman may be an example of that. She is finding such joy in such simple pleasures, it is almost like she is radiating. If she knew what I was typing all of that would probably change (just a little creepy)quickly as all things observed tend to do.

I love Whole Foods. It makes me sad because this was another one of those Stevie places. She loved this store, and we spent a lot of time and many of Steve's paychecks here. It also makes me feel close to her. It is funny how the two go together, the closeness and the pain. I understand why, and it's worth it.

I am starting to realise I ate way too much, maybe I should go home and go for a walk so I don't have all night cake guilt. A nap is a good cure too but I really need the walk.

I embrace change, I open myself to the greatness of the universe and trust it's plan for me.

Big Hair and the Circle Star

Well it was a big day yesterday for the entertainment industry, two icons gone...

I remember my cousin Ron (and every other teenage boy) had the Farah in the red bathing suit- nipples at attention poster hanging in his room. I remember thinking how beautiful she was and how I wanted more than anything in the world to have two things:

1. Boobs
2. Big Hair

Lucky for me curling irons and a home perm weren't too expensive but the boobs would be harder to come by and a long wait. The boob fairy finally did visit me after the birth of my first child. Because this fairy was late she decided to make up for it by giving my great-grandmothers heavy breasts. It is feast or famine with me always.

Charlies Angels...sigh. You had to love that cheesy show, the original crew made me want a jump suit, made me want to learn karate, made me want to wear lipstick. Alas I was trapped in a skinny boys body but I loved those angels.

Although I am not a People magazine reader and I don't follow what goes on in the magic world of all things shiny I did respect Farrah making the documentary of her cancer journey. I have not seen it but I think it can only raise awareness when someone who was the standard of beauty in her prime allows the public to see what cancer takes away. It isn't like the movies, it is painful, scary, and ugly.

Thank you Farrah for raising cancer awareness.

Michael. It was a shock to hear that he had passed, I knew it would happen some day I just could never imagine Michael Jackson at 70. It was hard to believe he was 50. My instincts tell me his demise was drug related but it doesn't really matter how he left, it was just his time. His heart breaking seems like a tragic and fitting ending.

I was a fan, then a confused and conflicted fan when he was dealing with the molestation accusations. The plastic surgery never bothered me it is just what people do. His choices were just out there where people could examine it and act shocked and amazed. C'mon what celebrity hasn't been nipped-tucked and had things plumped up or moved around. It's mainstream now, I know more people who have had work done than people who have not.

The monkey, the out-there clothing, Lisa Presley, Neverland, seriously how could that shock anyone. Hollywood is the land of make-believe and he gave people something to talk about, to wonder about and keep them interested, pure marketing genius.

Surrogate mothers...he wanted children for what ever reason, most of us do. I don't care about his sexuality, in these times it seems silly that anyone is really all that shocked or concerned.

The molestation charges. This bothers me. I have no tolerance for pedophiles. I also don't believe children lie about these things. I have my doubts where money is concerned. The first little boys family took 23 million dollars and chose not to prosecute, there is something a little selfish and greedy about that. As a mother I would first want to rip the genitals off the person who did this to my child then I would want them to spend the rest of their days behind bars where they could hurt no other child, money would be the last thing on my mind.

The second little boy...not sure how I feel about that. I wasn't at the trial, I do not know what the jurors heard or why they chose a not-guilty verdict.

I think, and hope that this man will be remembered for the good things he did, and he did do things that changed lives for the better. He did give, he did make a difference. I think all people should be remembered for what they gave.

When I was a kid I went to see The Jackson Five at the Circle Star theater in Oakland. we were way up front and it was spectacular. These boys sang their hearts out. Micheal had a fro back then and all the brothers wore bell bottoms, I thought that was boss. I was a runny nosed little tom-boy but I danced my little chicken legs off.

While I was driving home I spoke to Stevie, I told her, "Hey Michael Jackson is in heaven now, how cool is that" She had a little collection of DVDs that she use to watch. To her it was all "Old School" and she loved the music and videos. Stevie didn't judge people. She like them or didn't like them, there was never an explanation or an apology, she never wavered or changed her mind. She could just feel to the heart of a person. She didn't have time to waste.

I wonder if that is how we should all live. I could have saved hundreds of hours of my life if I didn't try to help people who didn't really want help, change people who were happy in their misery, trying to build friendships with people I didn't really like because I thought it was the right thing to do. My instincts were always right but always a hindsight observation.

I am not saying people should be hateful or avoid helping another person,it isn't about the worth of a person. What I am saying is that we all have a moral compass, good instincts, and if we listen to that without judgement we could live a little more effectively.

I get lost in this. I always tell myself that that gut feeling isn't a tool for me to move in another direction but a challenge, a hurdle that will help me build a better me if I do the right thing, maybe I am wrong.

The universe gives us a road map for our lives, Point A to Point B. It offers us guidance and direction. We have the freedom to take our own route and we can make it as long or as difficult as we like. Only two things are for sure; there is a point B and there are no shortcuts.

I think I am going to stick to my map now, listen to that inner guidance, love when my heart tells me to, run when my heart tells me to. My girl had this all figured out by the time she was five, I am a slow learner.

For some reason humans need idols, and icons serve a purpose but they to die and fade away, making room for other icons.

We can chose who we love, I think we should learn to see lovable greatness in ourselves and not hang all our hopes and dreams on someone else who seems bigger and better.

This is the only life we have and know right now, we have to be kings and queens of our own beauty and promise.