The title of my journal entry here is going to be a bit confusing, even to me. Well, I do know what it means, but to actually write down my feelings in words that will reflect my confused state of being will be a bit of a challenge. Let's see if I can get it all accomplished in something slightly less than a full novel.

A week and three days ago, while spending a really very nice day with my grown son, having decided to drive through a part of the Texas Hill Country (I always capitalize those three words as it  seems only fitting to do so) that is well known for it's profound display of wildflowers each Spring, our lives were changed in a way that indicates that , yes, a miracle did indeed occur that fine April day, but most of the changes were not good changes. Most of the changes incurred that day messed with our lives, particularly mine, big time that Sunday afternoon and every day that has followed since. Let me expound further.

After spending a really great day driving the Willow City Loop looking for virtually non-present-as-of-yet wildflowers (it was a bit early in the season), my son (who is going through a marital separation and had come to Texas to spend some time with my husband and myself while trying to decide what to do) and I headed back towards home. I called my husband to see if he was back yet from doing a job for a friend, the only reason he was not with us on the ride. He was home and working out in his barn, so I told him we'd be home shortly and we took our times. I had wanted to stop at Dairy Queen for a dipped cone but my son talked me out of it. We were both counting calories and besides, dinner would not be long once we got home.

On the last stretch of the road, going about 5 miles under the 60 MPH speed limit, we were talking about how many wildflowers there weren't as of yet, but how beautiful the hill country of Texas is. I was keeping my eyes on the road, but the weather was clear and beautiful and conditions for driving were almost perfect. Even traffic, generally so busy at this time of year and indeed bound to be very busy this coming weekend now that the flowers are finally out, was very light. We passed very few vehicles coming down the road or heading east as we were on the fairly straight country road.

At the crest of a small hill, a very slight rise in the road, actually, a large doublecab, diesel pickup truck suddenly appeared, not slowing down or signalling to turn, but suddenly it virtually swerved towards our side of the road in a curve that indicated that it planned to turn around or into the driveway that was just a few feet down on the right side of the road. I had absolutely no warning that the truck had planned to do this, and my last words before I swerved towards the right side and a grass apron that I hoped would get me out of the drivers way were, "What the heck does he think he's doing? Watch out Jim!" and then it all becomes jumbled. The next thing I know is that the car came to a rest on it's roof and I came to (I don't think I passed out, but came to realization instead) with blood dripping all over the ceiling of my car and wondered where it was coming from. I also noted the ceiling light and then the dawning came that I was hanging upside down from my seatbelt. I could not reach it to unbelt myself.

I suddenly remembered that I had my son and my little  Shihtzu, Tillie, with me and dreaded the possibilities. Just as I prepared to say something, my son said, "Mom? Are you alright?" Sighing with slight relief, I asked him the same question. Asserting that he was okay and realizing his voice was coming from outside the car, I asked where my dog was. Silence followed and then he said, "I've got her" and reported to me that she was okay. I asked if 911 had been called and he told me that it had been and they were on their way. I asked him to unbuckle my seatbelt and call my husband. As I heard his voice trying to reassure my husband, I assessed my injuries. My neck felt strained, but not broken. I could move it stiffly. My head didn't hurt, but I assumed the steady stream of blood was coming from my head. I knew that head wounds could be tiny and bleed profusely and I didn't want to know if I had a huge gash in my head.  If so, we'd deal with it later. In the meantime, I realized that my left arm hurt a whole lot. Something was wrong with it.

Feeling out of kilter now that I was unfastened from my seatbelt, I decided to get the heck out of my car. I didn't know if it would burst into flames, but wasn't waiting to find out. Figuring out the logistics, I determined that the best bet would be for me to crawl backwards out of the shattered window nearest to where I was squatting. Being a woman, one thought that went through my muddled head was that I'd probably get stuck with my butt for all the world driving by to see. It did not happen that way at all.

Just as I got out of the window and as I was assessing what I could see of my once cute little Kia Sportage, a man came running up and introduced himself as Chris. He was in his 40 probably, seemed calm and assuring and it turned out that he used to be an EMT about 10 years previous. He made me sit still, held a sweatshirt (my husbands from the car it turned out) to my head to staunch the still profuse bleeding cut and had me keep my obviously injured arm close to my body. He spoke with me calmly, asking pertinent questions and listening carefully to my somewhat scattered answers. I was in shock and although I thought I was making sense, I might not have been, in retrospect.

An elderly doctor, probably in his 90's and his lovely wife then pulled up, offering what assistance they might supply. He was on double canes so he could do little actually, but his presence and his wife's caring attitude calmed me a lot. Then a recently retired General Practitioner, my former doctor in fact, came up and did further assessment. He joked, as always and his words made me laugh in spite of myself. The EMS arrived and he helped them get me on a backboard after placing a collar around my neck, and as they lifted me to the ambulance, he cracked, "The last time I helped lift a piano, it played music for me. " I was too amused to even get offended at that and laughed at him. He made note of that fact.

I was placed in the ambulance for stabilization and in the meantime my husband had shown up, the emergency crews and law enforcement were trying to get answers and I was asking repeatedly about my purse, a costly new one given to me by my recently returned from England daughter, who had purchased it there. I was told that my son was okay (something that I suspected, but he had cuts on his arm and bald head and I was still worried until they checked him out) and that they were going to put me in the newly arrived helicopter for transport to the nearest trauma hospital in Austin. I was surprised and a bit afraid to take the helicopter ride. I'd always wanted to ride in a helicopter, but not flat on my back and unable to enjoy the ride.

We got to the hospital and from there, I had test after test, xray after xray and questions galore asked of me. I answered them to the best of my ability and tried to be patient as I waited for my son and husband to make the 60 mile drive from the scene of the accident and for the doctors to tell me results of the tests and films.

I had a collar on my neck for hours, laying flat on my back in an uncomfortable position. I was left alone while they checked on new traumas and since it had been determined that I had no internal injuries, it was okay to leave me for periods of time, all hooked up to monitors.

My husband and son finally arrived, having had to wait for the state highway patrol to do their investigation and the wrecker to take my car. My husband had finally begun shaking with the realization that my son and I had almost died that afternoon. The man who had hit us with his truck had shown very little concern at the scene of the accident. In his late 60's or early 70's. he'd leaned against his barely damaged truck and then been checked out for injuries, having suffered none. I was grateful to hear that he was okay, but concerned that he had not even come over to the car after it had rolled to check on us, had not asked how I was doing at the scene and I figured that he was likely going to blame the accident on something. He did. He stated that the sun had been in his eyes and he had not seen my car. The sun was still very high in the sky at that time (and we checked that out the next day also) and could not have been in his eyes. That is when I first became angry. What happened to taking responsibility and being honest?

After hours and hours of being in the hospital I got the good news. I could go home. My left clavicle was indeed broken, and a bad break at that. Also, tendons were pulled and needed to be repaired. I'd need surgery. I got a referral to a surgeon and went home at 2:30 in the morning, scared of the car ride home, stopping at an all night pharmacy for pain meds to see me through the next few days. The morphine shot they'd given me was wearing off and I hurt.

The next day we went to see my crushed little red Kia. It was amazing to see that we'd made it out alive from that mangled little car. The roof was crushed, EXCEPT for where we'd been seated in the front. The roof had pushed up to allow more room. The seats were intact and in track still. The airbags had not gone off (not a direct hit) and thus my little dog, snuggled tightly in my sons arms as the car tumbled, was not killed.

Our seatbelts saved is, no doubt at all. God saved us, no doubt. We were alive when we had every reason to be dead. My relief and the awe I felt then outweighed the anger and the pain, the frustration and the realization that someone's out and out carelessness had almost caused our lives to be snuffed out. The fact that his carelessness had also caused my injured clavicle and for me to have to submit to surgery to fix that injury had not hit yet. The fact that his carelessness had damaged my as-of-yet unpaid off car to the degree that it would be totaled, causing me to owe money to my lender yet had not sunk in as of yet. The fact that I would need legal help to deal with insurance companies and the at-fault driver had not occured to me as of yet. I was just glad to be alive and living on the high that though provided.

I saw a surgeon on Wednesday of last week, had my surgery that Friday and am healing slowly. I hurt. I have to take pain pills or suffer a lot. I cannot use my arm for anything and even though I am right handed and this is my left that is injured, do you know how many ways we use or non-primary hand/arm daily? The lack of being able to do so has resulted in half-hearted cleaning, a difficult time doing laundry, having to depend on my son and husband for simple things and my husband for helping get me dressed/undressed.

I had to rent a car for a few days, the policy I have covering a small car. I got the settlement offer on my car today. It is almost $5000 less than I owe for the car that is totaled and I will not have enough money, OR money for a new used car. I live 9 miles out of town and 25 miles from the nearest larger town and 60 miles from all of my doctors. You see, I also have battled metastatic cancer and lupus that was uncontrolled for years, necessitating medical care in Austin and Houston from time to time. I also need to get out of the house. I had begun volunteering 1/2 day per week a the library in our small town and also begun a womans group in town that allowed me to meet new women and get out of the house. Now I am going to be isolated again, stuck out in the country with no transportation while my husband works out of town.

The realization is finally hitting me that this miracle that saved my life was also an accident that changed it in ways that I'd rather it had not. I am closer to God than ever, but also angry that I am dealing with issues that I thought were long resolved. My new life that was so satisfying has been interrupted because a man chose to turn around without looking to make sure the road was clear. And his life goes on, unscathed. I don't wish him bad things but I do wish I was not suffering now. Thus the madness and the bit of clinging sanity is mixed with the very miracle of being allowed to live my life. God must have a plan for me and for my son. He has decided to become a fireman and possible an EMT. His life was in limbo but his resolve is strong now. I am so glad that he was spared bad injury and pain. I am hoping that the rainbow at the end of the rainbow soon becomes evident to me also.

I am not going to check for typos or edit the feelings my words here, misspelled or not, represent. I needed to vent. Thanks for listening.

I went to get my hair cut today. I had grown it out, albeit not intentionally, for almost a year now. It became my badge of "well, I'm not too old to have long hair" courage and I only recently colored it from dull graying blonde (it had been highlighted last May) to my natural light golden brown. I'd felt better after dying it, but still....I felt frumpy - kind of like an aging Earth Mama who didn't care about her looks. That's okay if an aging Earth Mama is what and who you are, but I am a Capicorn and it is apparently in our nature to be organized and orderly and my hair made me feel disorganized and disorderly.

So does this mean I feel younger? Nope. Does it mean I'll be more organized? Nope. What it does mean is that I feel like the weight of the world has been taken off of my shoulders, and that I was trying to be something or someone I am not. I am happier with neat hair and a touch of makeup. It makes me feel good and well kempt and that is important to my well-being.

So, what do you think? You can see my other look in my photos here. I don't mind if you like the other look better, but I'd like to hear your opinion.

I think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, whatever side that would be! I could have sworn that I was on the side I always sleep on, but from the minute I got up the first time (I went back to bed after the grandsons left for school at 6:30 a.m.), I knew this day was going to start off on an uneven keel. Even the fact that I was inclined to go back to bed was a bad sign.

At 8:00 my cell started squawking, or shall I say crowing. I have my husband's number programmed to ring as a rooster (he loves roosters). It has caused some amusement at different times. Once while in Lowe's shopping with my husband, me on one side of the store and he on the other, he called to see where I was, and when the phone began crowing at the bottom of my purse, a woman walking past had the funniest look on her face. I said, not really thinking, "Oh, that's my husband!" and as she looked even more confused, pulled my cell from my purse and she began laughing so hard I thought she'd crack a rib. It WAS funny and this scenario has been repeated many times since, always with huge humor. In any case, as the phone crowed, I was dreaming and a rooster entered my dream as though ushered in through a stage door. Where did HE come from? I thought. He doesn't belong in this dream. I was at the dentist's office! Well, the confusion wore off, but I was awake  now and not inclined to speak to my husband at that time. I needed to wake up fully and in the midst of another dream of which I cannot recall, I finally did, at 9 a.m.!

I stumbled into the kitchen and the dogs, in their crate in the kitchen, were whining to get out and go outside. They'd been out at 6:00 but they are little dogs and their bladders fill quickly, I guess. Out they went, stumbling over my feet and out the slider to the lanai and out the doggy door to the small side yard.

Stretching,  I opened the lanai door and stood outside with them as they were SUPPOSED to be doing their morning ministrations. They did, the younger one coming straight back into the carpeted lanai and before I could stop her, squatting to defecate. I sent her flying out the door onto the grass and she finished up, ran back through the doggy door and as I was grumpily considering doggycide (is there such a thing?), in came her mother with a huge palm frond, which the baby grabbed also and round and round the huge lanai they ran, full of vim, vigor and pure joy. I finally chuckled. How could I not have?

Inside again, as I fixed myself a diet cappuccino on my son-in-laws fancy machine, I found that I could not steam (froth) skimmed milk properly. It simply doesn't have the properties whole milk or half and half does, but whatever, it is healthier. I even put a shot of sugar free caramel  syrup (I think I like just plain old coffee best) to sweeten the coffee and hopefully my attitude.

Cleaning up after myself, I began to load the dishwasher. Getting distracted by something else, I began to shut the door and there, sniffing all the dirty plates, sat the little pup, a miniature dashund of 3 months of age, cute as can be on the inside door. Shaking my head, my humor coming back, I found myself laughing out loud. Wait....what was that sound?

Huge cup in hand (I needed a lot of caffeine this morning), I headed for the laptop, checking my email and going to the AARP site directly afterwards. I've become addicted to reading these journals, connecting with new people my age and older, or a bit younger, but who've lived through much of the same time in history that I have. What a relief and what a pleasant experience.

Feeling finally awake and getting more so as I read, I even found myself responding "Amen" to an avowed atheist's journal entry (on a totally non-religious subject, however). Now how silly was that? I made comments on a few more that touched me, wondered why a particular person was able to advertise her business on the AARP site when I mentioned an organization I have no connection to and got my entry removed and a letter of explanation as to the rules, and finally decided to write my own entry today.

I do believe I'll have a good day now that I'm awake enough to enjoy it, enjoyed some humor, experienced some inspiration from my new friends here at AARP's online community, and spent some time with my spiritual practice of praying.

I think I'll call my husband back now that I'm in a better mood.

I am in Miami and in truth have been for a week already. Just visiting, staying with 2 teen grandsons while my daughter and her husband are in Europe on business/pleasure. They will be back this next weekend

Miami has always intrigued me, It is exotic in so many ways and certainly very tropical, with palm trees waving their fronds in the soft breezes and blossoming bushes and trees all over the place. I used to be really intrigued with that tropical aspect, but now it is just a nice change of scenery for me. I've lived in FL, spent several years in Bradenton and Sarasota. Beautiful beaches, really cool shops (the ones that aren't simply tourist shops, duplicating the merchandise that lines the shelves and windows of the shop next door), and excellent restaurants. Like any place else, when you live someplace, it often loses it's charm after a while. So, FL itself is a beautiful place for me to visit but Miami...well, it still has the magic that comes with so much diversity of culture. It truly is a melting pot of humanity, with people from all over the world living here to enjoy the climate, the water and to live in neighborhoods that remind them of home, which may be Cuba, or Puerto Rico, parts of South America or Mexico. The warmth of the climate is reminiscence of their homelands, the palm trees and the flora so very familiar.

Miami has long had a large Jewish population. In fact, according to an article I read, it has the 3rd largest Jewish population in the world, following Israel and then New York. With the Jewish culture, come the delis. You cannot beat a good Jewish deli. They beat Italian delis hands down in my opionion, but perhaps I have never been to a good Italian deli, so I'm not the best judge of that.

There are plenty of Europeans and Scandinavians now living here, also. They originate from Great Britain, Ireland, France, Italy, Sweden, Denmark, Germany, Switzerland and other European and Scandinavian countries. Their cultures are more mixed in than isolated in neighborhoods, it seems.

And, of course, there are the Winter Floridians, coming down from Maine, Massachusetts NY, New Hampshire, Michigan, Ohio, Indiana and other eastern, northern and mid-western states. They come to escape the snow and blizzards that keep them homebound during the winter months othewise. Here they luxuriate in the warm tropical clime, the weather perfect most of the time for golf, tennis, boating, beach going, horseshoes,  you name it, it's perfect weather for it all. When it rains, it usually rains in heavy torrents for a while each day, or it's a soft rain that doesn't last long. Far more pleasant than heaps of snow, especially when it first begins to melt in the late winter, early spring. Ugh. Being a Native Michigander (now living in Central Texas), I well remember how nice it was to come down for a few weeks each year, to escape the last dregs of Winter.

My stay has been interesting. For example, last Saturday, while driving with my teenaged grandsons to a outdoor basketball game in a neighborhood about 15 miles from where my daughter and her family live, we passed people of so many diverse cultures it was almost like being in the heart of the city. We passed an old Jewish man dressed from head to toe in black, walking to temple. We passed kids of different Latino cultures playing together in the streets of nice neighborhoods. We saw people of  Mid-Eastern culture in their yards, tending to flowers, mowing, painting a fence. It was a regular melting pot of culture and everyone appears to live harmoniously in the same general area. How wonderful. This is how life should be, where tolerance is not simply the norm, but a way of life. Although I prefer acceptance to tolerance any day. Tolerance to me means merely putting up with someone/something. Acceptance means just that, accepting who and what they are without prejudice and judgement. 

One note of interest:  when we were driving down a certain street, my memory clicked in as I recognized where we were. It was the street that the infamous O.J. Simpson's home is on. My daughter had driven by last year when I was in Miami, on the way to a friends home, and had casually pointed out the home. Hummmm. No Big Deal. I'll keep my opinion of the man to myself. I did think of his children when I drove by and hope that they are happy young adults in spite of everything. That's another entire story/journal entry.

The one thing I have missed this trip is experiencing the culture via food. I did have an excellent sandwich with turkey, cream cheese and strawberry preserves on Cuban bread at one really nice restaurant filled with Cubans enjoying cultural cuisine that is so familiar to them and so unfamiliar to me. Next time I'll try something a bit different. A turkey sandwich with cream cheese is not unfamiliar to me, with the only difference being that I use a croissant instead of Cuban bread and canned cranberries (I like the whole berries instead of jelllied) instead of strawberry preserves.

When I leave in a bit less than two weeks, I will miss the waving palm trees swaying in the soft Miami breezes, the beautiful flowering bushes and trees, the green grass and plants everywhere, the ocean and waterways, and last, but certainly not least, my grandsons. What a pleasure this has been. When I return to Texas, home of barbeque of National Acclaim, Tex-Mex virtually everywhere, and huge Ryan Nolan steaks, I will be glad to be home, but miss Miami too, but I will be returning to my favorite time in Texas, Spring!

I just read my last entry and realized that a year has passed since I last wrote here.

It's been an interesting year - one full of adventure, fiasco, coming home, enlightenment and resolve. To explain further:  Last year at this time, I was restless. I felt unhappy, full of restlessness and very unsure of where my life was going.

I was unhappy in my marriage, but as I told a close relative when she asked me what was wrong, I didn't have a good enough excuse to leave him. This is my second marriage - the first one lasted 15 years and produced my only children. There were 14 years between marriages, during which time I went from desperately wanting to get married again to questioning if I truly should marry again. Well, I did it. I married a man who was the total opposite of my former spouse. I married someone I liked but wasn't sure I loved. That love, however, came, grew strong, flickered and got strong again and so it goes. Right now it is strong again. BUT, I realized that I had finally figured out something about myself: I was the problem in my marriage, in my boring, restless life, in my thinking. I put up blocks to happiness. 

There is a lot I am leaving out here, but I can say that recently I discovered the true path to happiness and peace of mind and soul: Learn to like yourself, put your person out there to meet others of like mind, fill your spaces with good thoughts, deeds and people and you will find yourself waking up to a new beginning where all seems well with the world. You feel good, you look good and you think good thoughts. Who could ask for more?

When I first commented in my journal, I was feeling sad, introspective, confused and wondering, What Next?

I think as we get older, and especially once we’ve battled serious illness or other adversity, we really begin to question things. Why are people so rude in today’s world? Why aren’t things like the used to be? Why do I have so much trouble relating to people? Why is it so hard to find "good help"? Why is customer service so poor?

Well, for every rule, there is an exception. Yup...you read that right. There are plenty of good people out there....polite, kind, caring. So, for every rude person, there are several more polite ones out there. I guess one needs to look past the rude people and focus on the people who are not that way.

Things aren’t as they used to be because time marches on and sometimes we get tired of marching with it. Gosh, I am too YOUNG to be thinking this way. So, although I will still march to the beat of my own drum, sometimes I’ll join the band and we’ll march forward together, in time to the beat of today.

Why do I have so much trouble relating to people? Well, could be I’ve changed and instead of letting my heart be open, I’ve put a huge wall up around it and so, instead of letting people in, I shut them out, thinking they are shunning ME. Aren’t we human beings so very funny sometimes?

It isn’t hard to find good help....not if you look in the right places. Give a chance to the young, hire that middle aged lady, hire that elderly gentleman. All have things to offer, if they are given the opportunity.

Customer service IS poor in many places, but perhaps...instead of giving someone who has been less than helpful a dirty look and huffing on out, tell them how much you appreciate their service. Maybe they need encouragement, not criticism.

So, all the important questions answered for the day, I am going to say Good Day for now. If you are reading this, know that I’m at this site because I want to meet new friends....quality friends.....compassionate friends....interesting friends. If you meet the criteria....write to me. I’d love to hear from you.

I have so very much I want to get said before I leave this earth. I've found that getting older has caused me to be more introspective and less shallow (albeit I don't think I have ever truly been shallow in the common sense of the word).

I have been so worried about this world we live in. Mall shootings, shootings at colleges and universities, kids bringing weapons to elementary, middle and high school. Road Rage. Unethical behavior being so rampant, including in our own Government. War. Pornography being so easy to access on the web. YadaYadaYada.

Now, lest the world think I have a "cup half empty" attitude, let me state that I have always been a hopeful person with lots of faith in humanity, but I have seen such a downfall of our society since my youth that I can't help but be concerned about where humanity is heading.

I can look at my bible and see that this same behavior has been seen throughout the written history of mankind. It is just more obvious due to the internet and the media. But still, it is disheartening to see it firsthand.

I have so much that I value, and none of it is material. I love my family so very much. I love my pets. I love my friends I love God beyond all. I am not a noisy Christian, but a constant one. God lives in my heart and all that I  hold dear.

I have battled and seemingly won, at least for the time being, two life-threatening diseases. I have seen people in all stages of dying, but then again, they have been in different stages of living, also. As long as there is breath, there is hope and as long as there is hope, there is life.

I have been trying to adjust being back at work after years of not working. I am older and a bit rusty, yet I have gained my confidence back and am feeling held back by my job. I am trying to decide what to do about that. It is non-challenging, yet I am grateful for the fact that I have it in this "iffy" employment environment. I love my boss. I am adjusting to my co-workers, as we are so different. Perhaps because I have had to deal with serious illnesses, I have learned to deal with issues that they have not had to as of yet. It is an issue, but not unsurmountable.

Well.....one can see that my mood this morning is a bit down. Tomorrow it could be up high. That is Life! As Paul would say, "Good Day!"