What's the worst?

I remember about six months after Michaela died, around Christmas time, people started asking me this question.  THE question.  The question I get asked more than any other.  What time of year is the worst?  Is it the holidays?  Her birthday?  The anniversary of her death?  At the time, I had no idea.  What kind of a question is that to ask someone in my situation.  My answer then would honestly have been...every day.  Every single F-ing day is the worst.  Every day I have to wake up is the worst.  They are all the worst and each one is worse than the one before. 

We just passed the third anniversary of Michaela's death.  I still can't put a date on it.  I noticed this year that her friends recognize the date of the accident; after all, she never woke up, so maybe that is the day.  People underestimate the wisdom of youth.  It is something I have struggled with...the date of the accident, the date she was declared dead, the date she went for organ donation, and the date we put her ashes in the ocean.  All separate and painful memories for me.  The whole week throws me...not by calendar dates, but by days of the week and surrounding events.


Michaela's accident was on the last Sunday of June.  That it was a Sunday was important because it defines what we were doing that day.  We were home.  I had been on a photo shoot the day before.  We were still in our lounging pajamas at 3 in the afternoon.  I was editing photos.  Bill was watching sports.  Michaela went to the beach for the afternoon.  It only makes sense on a Sunday, so regardless of the date, in my mind it will always be that last Sunday of June.  At the other end of the spectrum is the day we placed her cremains in the ocean.  That day was the 4th of July.  There is no other way to think about it...I couldn't tell you what day of the week it was.  It isn't important.  So from the last Sunday in June to the 4th of July...those are the days I relive the impossible. 

I have a better answer now, I suppose, for those who ask that question.  The answer is the anniversary of her death followed very closely by her birthday.  Sure the holidays are hard.  But anyone who knows, knows.  Every day is hard.  Every single day.  It numbs.  It gets easier, sort of.  But every day will never be like every day used to be.  I will struggle to get out of bed and put on a smile and do what needs doing; some days I will succeed, some days I won't.  But those two dates...they are killer. 

Here is why...simplified.  All of the holidays involve all of the family.  Kids, friends, parents, other family...there is usually a crowd and a lot going on.  Cooking, cleaning, presents--you know the drill.  But those two dates were (and are) all about her.  Birthdays are about the birthday girl.  As her birthday approaches, I think about all of the birthdays she had...what we planned, what we did, what she loved and even (stick shift car) when she wasn't pleased. 

But the anniversary of her death is worse yet.  In the month coming up to that, my mind is filled with what we did that summer.  We had a wonderful summer (a blessing).  The time is filled with memories of "the last time"....the last road trip, the last ice cream at Del's, the last visit with David, the last argument, the last hug, the last "I love you", the last, the last, the last. 

And then there are the messages from her friends.  Oh how I love the messages.  Oh how the messages make me cry.  I hope the messages never stop, but I know they will.  The messages are so bright they make my eyes water to look at them.  I love them.  I need them.  But they hurt too.  I would love the messages to come at other times.  I love that they come then.  But so many, all at once, I can only read them in short bursts.  The beauty of the Internet is that those messages stay and I can go back, during leaner times, and look at them one at a time.  When I am not so very raw. 

As an experienced griever...what a terrible thing to have on your life's resume....I know now that I can't look straight on at my grief very long or very often.  It is like looking straight into the sun.  You can glance at it or you can see it in your peripheral vision, but if you look right at it, it makes you cry.  It hurts.  It could blind you with its power.  It isn't safe at all.  It is much better just to grab a glance now and then.  You know it is there all the time.  It wakes you up in the morning.  It pops in and out of the clouds.  It warms you and sometimes it burns you.  It is ever present, but you don't think about it every minute; it is just part of your existence.  That is how my grief is.  More importantly, that is how my daughter is.  She is ever present.  She is part of my existence.  She colors everything else I see.  And when I can't feel her, all is dark.

Hello, It's been awhile

Hi!  Wow, have I been busy.  Last I left you, I was telling you about my plan to open a business this summer.  Well, here we are in summer and no sign of a business yet, but don't worry, we're working on it.  I have a story to share.  This blog isn't just about my life.  This is about my life as a bereaved mother.  And I have to tell you that there is nothing that happens in my life that isn't colored in some way by that.  Unless this is your first time reading my blog, you also know that I strongly believe that the line between this world and that one isn't very thick...we are just not equipped (usually) to see across it and we are trained from a very young age that we can't.  Once you tell a child they can't; eventually, they believe it.  Until something proves them wrong.

No, I haven't been gifted with the powers of a medium.  I can't see the future or bend spoons with my mind.  I have just learned to try a little harder to listen to the signs the universe is sending me.  My angels, my daughter, the universe, God, and all of my family members alive and departed want me to succeed in this life.  With a cheering squad like that, how can I fail? 

Ok, back on track.  I was working on a plan to open an art gallery.  Everything the universe was telling me was to do this.  But then a few things changed.  I looked at the real estate I had thought was perfect and it wasn't so perfect.  Then David got accepted into a great art school; which would mean I would have to find someone to run the business on a day to day basis or give up my job.  We had discussed putting in a coffee/wine/beer shop along with the gallery and that was causing a lot more research...what do I know about coffee?  The stress was building and time was crunching.  We were just about to leave for a magical trip to Africa and nothing was in place yet and I was stretched way too thin.  Too many irons in the fire with that project and so many family projects that are important to me. 

Then I had a dream.  In the dream, I was a terrible person.  I mean, seriously, the worst.  The dream was loosely based on Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.  There were some kind of tickets and whoever got one could bring one other person.  It wasn't to a candy factory though.  It was to go see or do anything in the world you have ever wanted to experience.  There were about 10 people who would win and the winners would magically do everything in a weekend.  Tickets were impossible to get, but Michaela got one.  She chose to give me the other one.  Then unexpectedly a casual aquaintance gave me one too.  But instead of giving Michaela back her extra one to give to someone she loved; I gave it to someone else.   I half heartedly told her not to worry, I would spend plenty of time with her, but it wasn't true.  I felt obligated to the person who gave me the other ticket and left her all alone, knowing no one. 

Another factor in the dream was that I had several animals--dogs, cats, even horses--but I was so excited about doing this adventure that when I was asked about the animals, I shrugged it off.  I said they would be fine for a weekend on their own.  I didn't even try to find someone to take care of them. 

In Ngorongoro valley. 
One of the real seven wonders of the world.

Finally it was time to pick our destinations.  I can't remember now what I picked, but they were enormous things...7 wonders of the world type choices; almost all about travel.  Even knowing that we would spend barely seconds in each place to get everywhere in one weekend.  I was greedy on top of everything else.  And the adventure happened.  And I didn't spend the time with Michaela.  She was alone.  And I didn't enjoy a single minute of it, because there was no time to breath and enjoy the beauty of the places I wanted to go.  And I woke up very upset.  I had taken Michaela for granted.  I had been greedy.  I had been thoughtless.  I had been selfish.  Just about as crappy of a person as one could be. 

Then oddly, I went back to sleep and the dream started over.  But I could remember the other dream.  I made better (but not perfect) choices.  This time I stayed with Michaela and the dream went on.  And I woke again disappointed, but not devastated like the first time.  At least this time I took care of Michaela; but she was disappointed in me.  My other choices weren't right.  Two more times that night I dreamed the same dream.  Each time I made better choices.  In the last dream, instead of trying to see the wonders of the world, I picked very simple things.  That is what Michaela was telling me to do.  I don't remember what they were...I remember one was something about making chocolate chip pancakes with Michaela and Grama.  They were all along those lines...learning something new, appreciating something small. 

When I woke the last time, I was happy.  I had learned what I was supposed to learn.  I got it.  I got it on a grand scheme of remembering what is important and what is beautiful, but I also got it in my current situation.  I believe I was being told to slow down.  Take small steps.  Don't forget what is important.  Learn one thing at a time.  I believe that Michaela, who in life wanted me to move faster at getting a photography business going, was telling me in spirit to slow down and not fall over my own ambitions. 

Out of that, the first thing I decided was to nix the coffee shop part of the plan.  At least for now.  That takes time, knowledge and money that I don't have at my disposal.  Next I decided to slow down the the opening of the actual storefront gallery.  First we need to sell some art at other galleries or in an art festival format.  Get things shown.  Build a resume.  Build a reputation.

And keep the momentum.  That is my biggest fear of going slower.  I have started so many good projects that I want to keep working on, but I lose my momentum.  I need focus.  I will continue all of those projects, but it will take time.  I wish I could not work my full time job, but that isn't in the cards either for a good long time.  There are only so many hours in the day; so I have to focus on 1. what has to be done and 2. my family/friends and 3. what my dream is.  The rest is just hobbies and pastimes...blogging, craftwork, and some other things I have started and not finished...these will fill in whatever cracks there is in time available.   But I will continue to find a way to follow my dream; one small step at a time.

I had envisioned blogging about my business set up experience initially, but that isn't going to happen for two reasons.  First, setting up a business, even a tiny one, takes a whole lot of time!  So instead of trying to write a whole blog on what is happening, you are welcome to follow my progress in fun sized bites on our Facebook page:  https://www.facebook.com/?ref=tn_tnmn#!/EnsoGallery

I will continue to write here, when I can, about my experiences as they relate to Michaela and my life as a grieving mother.  I have a lot to say.  Things are happening and she is constant in my life, but I didn't want to leave the business series unfinished.  But I also love hearing about other people's otherworldly experiences in all their various forms, so I set up a facebook site for sharing.  It is a non-judgement zone.  A few people have shared their experiences and I would love to hear from more:  https://www.facebook.com/?ref=tn_tnmn#!/groups/205921422836363/

I had a wonderful gift from Michaela in Africa that I shared on that FB page all ready.  I opened my heart to meet someone I was very nervous to meet, but that worked out wonderfully.  I feel on the edge of a great something that she is leading me to.  But I also must point out that this week is the week of the third anniversary of the end of her time on this earth.  It is a difficult time for me.  I find myself crying a lot and not feeling physically well; wanting to cocoon myself in the safety of my home away from the people who would help me.  But I also must remember that in the past two years she has blessed me with a sign of her continued presence in my life.  I'm asking her again to be with me and help me through.  And maybe get TS Debby to move on her way and let the sunshine into our lives again.

With Blessings.

Katy

Messages: The Reveal

I have kept you all in suspense long enough.  Although I am a long way from ready and the plans have a lot of finalizing to do, I am comfortable enough now to share where my messages have been leading me. 

It started with a woman I am an email only friend with (so far) who just couldn't seem to hear me when I said, "no, I'm not doing anything with my photography."  I would send her a picture or she would see them on my Facebook and she would exclaim over them and then ask (again), are you doing anything with your photography, business wise?  And I would answer (again) no.  (She is actually the editor of a magazine who contacted me about publishing something I had written.  Yes, it was published, something I probably neglected to ever tell much of anyone because it was published in the premier magazine for grieving parents, so blessedly most of you would never see it.  But our communications continued and we have become friends.)

Then I went to DC for a meeting and took pictures of the Cherry Blossoms.  The three women I was working with there, who are also now friends, were very complimentary of my pictures and my shared pictures even got the attention of the Washington Post just as my New York City pictures were commented on and retweeted by the New York City Tourism board.  And then finally there was the lady, Kelly, at the UPS store who I already spoke about and the signs from the angels that I also already explained.

But, lest I sound like I am bragging, let me clear up one thing.  I am not a great photographer.  I never will be.  It is my nightmare to be asked to create an image to someone else's liking.  I do not want to pose families or take wedding pictures.  I do not want to learn to set up artificial lighting or build backdrops and collect props.  All I like to do with my camera is capture what is already there.  The art that God put on the earth or the art that man built while not intending it as art.  And I do think I am good at that.  I do think my eyes see beauty where other people just drive on by.  And I do not have any qualms about editing the image beyond recognition to make a pretty picture into a work of art.  And I will call it art, because if I don't, nobody else will either.

Another piece of the puzzle fell into place when I found out my son, who is an Art Major will not be going to Graduate School in the fall and is currently looking for a place to start his adult life.

And so.......

Drum Roll Please!  Later this summer we are going to open an Art Gallery in the Eau Gallie Art District.  We are going to show art from emerging artists in all mediums to include some of my images, some of David's painting, and a variety of other people's art on a commission basis.  Some of the artists are local, some are not.  David will be bringing down art from artists he knows in Iowa and Nebraska.  Bill's brother is building crosses and boxes of inlaid wood (he is a very talented wood worker).  We hope to get some images from Luke and Misti (Bill's daughter).  And of course local artists, hopefully will approach us in the long run.  But we feel like we have a lot going for us in just having a lot of unknown artists among our friends and family who will be willing to show at an unproven gallery. 

I have revealed my plan little by little in discussions with people and not only have they been supportive, but I am also getting more inspiration from them.  For example the printer who works in the building I work in offered to print cards and post cards and invitations to the grand opening at a much reduced price because he knows what it is like to start out when all the money is going out and none is coming in.  Then he told me as we flipped through some of my pictures that they look like the natural art that his church uses to display as a background to inspirational Bible verses.  And it hit me later, why not print some of them as post cards or cards with inspirational sayings on them.  That may be more marketable than a simple postcard.  Now post cards and note cards are not going to be the basis of the business by any means, but we will be offering small art reproductions as well as large original art pieces...prices varying....sometimes you need to sell peanuts to keep the dollars dripping in.

I would be silly of me to go into my entire business plan at this point, but the basics are no secret.  We will sell upscale original art and small reproductions, no arts and crafts stuff.  The primary business will be the store front, but we will also go to the major local art festivals.  We will be marketing to the people on the street, but we want to reach out to interior decorators for homes and businesses to establish ongoing relationships that will buoy the business with a more steady income.

But for now, I am writing the business plan.  Doing worksheets of start up expenses and break even analysis and projected income charts.  Getting insurance quotes and talking to vendors and even buying small furniture pieces at garage sales.  All of the drudgery that when done well up front will help ensure the business is a success in the long run.  I am even setting up mentoring sessions with Small Business Associations that specialize in helping start ups and working on putting together an advisory board of artists and business mentors to help keep us on track.

And here is the disclaimer to keep me out of trouble:   I am NOT planning to leave my current job.  Rest assured that I love my work and my coworkers and do not expect this to impact my job at all,  My son has committed to coming down this summer to set up the gallery and while I hope he will stay on to manage it for some time, I will be hiring someone to do the day to day running of the business.  I have already had so many offers from people who want to help!

That is all for now.  I'm sure I will be writing more about this new adventure in our lives, so stand by and please wish us the best with prayers for success!

My First Three Mounted Test Prints:  8x10, metallic paper, 3/4 inch raised mount.

The meaning of art

I know I promised a trilogy with a big announcement at the end, but the time isn't right yet.  First I have to get all my rubber duckies all lined up in a nice neat row.  Fortunately, all of my rubber duckies are being very cooperative :).  I promise that my clues have been very good, but your general idea isn't the whole picture by any means. 

But in the meantime, life isn't standing still.  First news is I got my tattoo.  I'm no hippie girl tattoo'd bohemian (but I hope to be some day, lol).  I have planned this one for a long time.  Here it is: 

Every part of this tattoo has meaning.  On the foot is a message from a mother's day card in Michaela's own hand writing.  The daffodil was her favorite flower as well as the birth flower for the month of March.  The Red Rose was used to cover up the childish rose that used to be there, but also stands for everlasting love.  

The purple flowers indicate mourning and sadness.  The butterfly is a common symbol of afterlife and a symbol of afterlife visits for many people, but this one is filled with all of the colors of the rainbow, because the rainbow was a significant symbol for her both in life and death.  The peacock feather indicates several things.  Her favorite colors, the colors and theme she was planning to decorate her apartment in, and a kind and thoughtful thing she did in her last days.  The round pink flower at the top indicates everlasting life in the eternal circle.  The lady bugs, always a favorite of hers, indicate another sign she has used both in life and death of her continuing presence.

I admit I was worried about getting such a large and detailed tattoo on my leg, but I absolutely love it.  Wait til I do one for my son on the other leg :).  I can already envision it, but he needs to finish growing up so I know all of the elements that belong there. 

Second news is that I visited Kelly at the UPS store again today.  I waited a whole week, which was hard for me to do.  I swear, talking with her is like downing a six pack of 5 hour energy drinks in 10 minutes.  I leave there electrified with energy.  Still, I don't want to dry up the energy source and I don't want to wear out my welcome; after all, she is running a business.  But again, this visit was amazing.  From the minute I walked in the door, her face lit up (don't lie, you know it is amazingly gratifying when someone is obviously happy to see you!). 

She immediately said, I have something for you.  Since the last time I left we had both been unable to locate something we wanted to share, I assumed she found what she was looking for, as had I.  So I said me too.  She was busy and I waited for her to take care of her customers.  I had business to do too, but no rush.  When she was done I pulled up the Angels Cry too picture that Michaela had drawn.  The one I put in the last blog next to the baby angel that Kelly had drawn.  She looked at it and said, it's her, all grown up.  When I told her that Mich had drawn that, she almost cried  She said, so there is a connection.  So I'm not crazy...or at least both of us are.  Reminder images:

But, surprise, what she had been looking for was NOT what she had for me.  She came out from the back room with this:

This is a brand new canvas in oils.  The photo does it no justice.  It is jaw dropping.  I could not believe she was handing me a canvas painting as a gift.  Just a gift.  But more than a gift.  I had told her how much her paintings of Ascension had touched me...this is very similar to the one she did about her sister, but it is not the same.  She said she had started out with different colors than these on the circles and it wasn't right.  She didn't know why it wasn't right, so she asked Michaela to help her make something beautiful for me.  Look closely at the colors (they aren't quite right in the photo, but they are perfect on the canvas) and then look again at that peacock feather in my tattoo.  I just got the tattoo on Friday.  Also look at the hair color...not quite blonde, not quite brown.... she thought that was a mistake when I showed her blond Michaela (she had not seen a color picture of her)...but remember Michaela was born with dark brown hair...now she is going back.  I love the golden hue in the hands.  I know it is my grampa taking her over.  He is the one who told me she had to go over. 

Also, please remember that she has not been able to paint in over a year.  This is the first painting she has completed.  I hope that means I am giving her energy, not just taking hers.

Another blessing I am undeserving of.  I have so many pieces of original art, inspired by my generous, loving daughter both by people who knew her alive and people who did not.  Tell me that isn't proof that life is eternal and important.

Messages: Part two

As I was saying, I was thinking about my encounter with Kelly on the way to my next appointment, which happened to be for a massage.  It was almost a wasted massage, because for me, relaxing the muscles is just part of the experience.  I like to relax my mind at the same time, but my mind was in no mood to be relaxed.  Towards the end of the massage, trying to quiet my mind, I remembered something that I had been doing a few weeks ago, but had neglected to do lately.  So I mentally asked Michaela, my guides, and any angels who wanted to chime in for advice.  I asked for a sign that what I was thinking of doing would be a good idea and if it would be successful.  Then I waited.

I didn't have long to wait as it turned out.  After my massage, I walked in the next room and this is the first thing I saw: 


Gold Angel Wing Photo Holder

Now without knowing what is in my mind, all of the symbology of that won't be clear right away, but it is pretty obvious.  Angel wings, in a glittery gold (indicating financial success) and a note stuck in the top that says "photo holder".  All very obvious signs to me. 

Everything that I want to do is so clear in my mind.  There are people who will say it won't work, but I know it will.  I don't expect it to be easy and I don't expect it to be instantaneously successful, but I do know I can do this.  There are a lot of other factors lining up to make this the right time and place for what I want to happen.  I will go in to them in the next blog.  It is all just too complicated to put out there all at once. 

As I also said, I did go back to see Kelly the next day.  Of course I had to.  I had to tell her what happened after I left her the day before.  We had another great conversation.  She had been as excited and inspired by our talk as I had.  I will go back and see her soon, probably Monday, because I will have something else to share with her then.  Oddly during the visit there was something she desperately wanted to show me and something I wanted to show her and neither of us could find what we wanted to share.  I think that was the universe saying, "you aren't done with each other yet."

She did share some more of her art with me.  First she shared this picture: 

Souls ascending into Heaven.

Then she shared this picture:


Child Angel

Now tell me the truth, doesn't that picture look like a very young version of this Angel????

Pay particular attention to the way the word Angel is written in both pieces and then look at the hair and the lips and even the eyebrows.  Maybe it is a stretch, but it was my immediate thought.  I can assure you that the two of them never met.  Oddly, this is the picture I wanted to show Kelly.  I have it everywhere.  It is on the Face book Page Angels Cry Too....but it wouldn't come up while I was standing there.  No place I looked would it appear at that time.

The next blog will actually reveal my idea, so be patient.  I have to have everything lined up before I tell all.  But before I sign off, let me take a step into the past to give you a hint.  From my blog several months ago called Spiritualist Camp:  [the Medium] said to me, like almost everyone else, that I was bored at work, but there would be a good opportunity coming in June. He said that I wanted to start my own business, which used to be true but no longer is a priority for me and seemed disoriented when I disagreed. 

Amazing Messages!!!

Today I went to the UPS store to mail a package.  I go to this UPS store quite often.  I actually like going there because the owners are very friendly and helpful (and their little dog gives 'high fives').  But today was something different.  This visit to UPS might well change my life.  Here is the story:
I went in and while I was waiting I noticed a full double rainbow shot of the beautiful double rainbow I had photographed a couple of weeks ago.  I started discussing the rainbow and photo with Kelly.  We have chatted amicably many times, but never at any length.  The picture wasn't very good really, but it was the full rainbow, which is impossible to shoot with a normal camera because of the photo ratio.  She mentioned the guy next door (a photographer) had probably gotten one of the few shots of the full thing because he had the wide angle lens to do it.  (as an artist, I was appalled that he hadn't taken the time to compose a great shot...the beach is right across the street for crying out loud).

I told her I had also photographed that rainbow and opened my iPad to show her.  I pulled up the picture I took at 8th Street (above) and I don't know what compelled me to say this, but I said, 'I doubt I ever told you, but my daughter died three years ago.  This is the street we lived on."  She looked straight at me and said, ' then this is a sign'.  I agreed with her and told her that I regularly ask Mich for rainbows and most often get them, sometimes on days where there is no rain.  She said, oh, I believe all of that...angels, signs, rainbows, butterflies...it is all true. 

Then she started flipping through my pictures and was literally gasping with pleasure at some of them.  Earlier she had asked if I was a photographer and I said sort of.  She said flipping through them, you are an artist and these are some of the most beautiful pictures I have ever seen.  So what, right?  It is a UPS store owner.  Then she revealed to me that she is an artist.  AND she told me that her sister had been murdered four years ago.  She went on to tell me the story of the murder and how she had visited psychics who had all told her the same story of the murder.  They know who did it, but can't prove it.  I won't go into the details but it is a gruesome story.  All of the photos below this are pictures painted by Kelly Poiani.



This is her painting of arrival in Heaven and being greeted by
all of those loved ones who are waiting for you

Since her sister's death she painted for awhile at first, but hasn't been able to create at all in the past year.  Still, I was interested, but not overwhelmed.  Until she got out her portfolio, pictures of her art.  I was floored.  Not only was it beautiful, but it was exactly my own image of death and spiritual connectedness.  She gave me copies...that is what is posted here.


This painting depicts how all of our souls are interconnected.

Before I left she said, your photos would be beautiful as postcards or notecards.  I said that exact thought has been nagging at me all week.  I was trying to figure out how to make it happen.  She said, 'another sign'.  Perhaps your daughter working through me.  And as I drove to my next appointment I thought about that, then I thought of something else (that I won't share yet).   I left there physically affected by this encounter.  I was shaking and my stomach was in knots. 


This is a photo of one of her sculptures.  I was drawn to it.  It you know me, you know why.

I was, unfortunately, rushed for time, but I am stopping back in there first thing in the morning.  I feel like I could have talked to her all day.  These unusual connections keep happening to me and I know enough now to listen to them.  I am being guided and I accept that.  Not only do I want to hear her story in more detail, but I want to know who she talked to and get recommendations from her.  Also, I have a new story of something that came out of our visit.  I'm not ready to share that yet, but it will be life changing.  My life is going to become amazing. 

This shows her sister being greeted by her young nephew who had passed earlier.  He took her before the brutality began.  This is exactly how I picture it happening.  This brings me so much peace.  I am not alone.  Others see what I see.

My life is going to become amazing.  But that is a story that needs this part and a few more to make sense...and I just can't share it yet.

Part two to follow:  Hint--I did go back to see her today and my life is going change (two separate topics).  Stand by for details, this is going to be a trilogy, because there is just so much to share.

Thin Skin. A Side Effect of Grief?

I used to be what most people would call thick skinned.  I wasn't emotional about things (well, most things).  Heck, I was in the military.  I took what was dished out and dished out my own in return.  I won awards for being able to stand up to pressure and got promoted based on being able to stand up for myself.  I used to be the "there's no crying in baseball" kind of person.  The one who couldn't understand why when I had to correct someone, they might start to cry.  Who would stand dry eyed in a life and death situation, yet tear up at the national anthem.  Then my daughter died. 

Some would say I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome, just like a soldier coming home from a war zone.  I say pish posh to that.  But I do share at least one symptom with those that truly suffer from that.  My skin is thinner.  I can't quite take the rough rudeness of the public.  The world is abrasive on my skin, in almost a literal sense sometimes.  The smallest, most inconsequential things can tip the scales on whether I am going to have a good day or a bad day.

Driving to work, someone honks at me or flips me the bird for not taking off fast enough at a green light; on the wrong day that can put me in tears.  On any day it is deflating.  It is so hard to stay buoyant anyway, that every little pin someone sticks in my balloon sinks me down just a little bit lower.

A woman at work today was complaining about people in the elevator asking her to push their floor button for them.  Our elevator is unusual because the buttons are on both sides, but most people don't realize it getting in, if they aren't regulars.  She was miffed at this and said she just pointed at the buttons so they could do it themselves.  She is young.  Perhaps she hasn't been hurt yet.  She is a nice young woman, but can't understand how a small kindness can help someone get through the day and while a small slight isn't likely to ruin their day, what is wrong with taking the kind route?  I hope she never has to learn this lesson in a hard way like I had to; I recognize that I used to be just the same way.

At work, I might make a mistake (it happens a lot!); some people can say to me "hey, that isn't right" and my ears hear "hey, let me help you get that right;" certain other people say the same thing and my ears hear "why are you so stupid?".  
Today I asked three different people at work to help me with a very small task; just something fun on the lines of a 'let's get to know each other and keep the office a personal place' and all three politely declined.  None gave a particular reason, but it was really deflating; after all, I am HR, it is my job to keep the people happy and engaged.  After the third one, I was tearing up and had to shut my door.  I gave up.  I won't ask anyone else.  My day that had started out exceptionally well, turned dreary and sad all for things that wouldn't have touched me three years ago. 

I often feel judged and defensive of my opinions and ideas in a way that I wouldn't have before too.  If I offer my opinion about something and it isn't regarded politely (I don't mean agreeing with me is mandatory, just hearing my side and acknowledging it), I become very defensive.  I love a good debate on any topic, always have, but now I seldom enter them except with those I trust the very most...basically my husband and my son....because to have my opinion belittled, ignored , or misconstrued is too difficult and will ruin my mood, my day and possibly even my relationship with the person.  This too is new...before I would have just told the person to piss off and went out for a beer with them.
All of this is new to me and when I'm trying to define the new me in my new normal, I have to consider these changes.  Much like a returned veteran may jump at a car backfire or fireworks, I jump at unkind words and actions.  And therefore, I most often try to remember that others are suffering too, and try to be kind myself, even when I am stressed or rushed or defensive.  I don't always succeed, but I certainly know it when I have failed and it makes me feel miserable.

Stop Kony 2012?

Ok, so this is off topic for me, but it is really on my nerves.  What is up with the gullibility of Americans?  Why does a well placed advertisement get the attention that the major legitimate news media (oxymoron?) does not?  Why do people blindly follow without asking any questions?  It is so easy to click and share, without further thought.  Keep this in mind though:  A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to put its pants on. ~ Winston Churchill.

I admit freely that I am like 99.9% of Americans:  grossly undereducated about the problems outside of our own borders (and inside too, for that matter), so when I see something as emotional and thought provoking as the Kony Video, I want to know what's up. For real, what's up, not what the videographer wants me to think is up.  Because when something seems too good (or bad) to be true, it should be questioned.  Fortunately for me, there is the internet, just waiting for my queries.

Before you stop reading and start hating, let me acknowledge that Kony is a very bad man.  In fact there are a lot of very bad people involved in the situation(s) in Africa.  It is a bad situation, and a good cause in general; however, Invisible Children is a business.  Non-profit to be sure, but a business.  People get the idea that non-profit agencies do good at no benefit to themselves, but that is an illusion based on the questionable title "non-profit".  All non-profit means is that the organization itself doesn't make a profit (or pay taxes); which makes it very easy for them to offer lavish salaries and perks to their executives, work out of spacious, well-appointed facilities, and spend tons of money on advertising so they can raise their salaries and improve their facilities, while often giving back little to the cause they proclaim to support.

Before opening my wallet to any charity, I want to know how my money is being used.  There are legitimate organizations out there that audit charities and report this information.  "Invisible Children" chooses not to associate itself with one of the largest:  the Better Business Bureau Wise Giving Alliance. 

From their website:  Despite written BBB Wise Giving Alliance requests in the past year, this organization either has not responded to Alliance requests for information or has declined to be evaluated in relation to the Alliance’s Standards for Charity Accountability. While participation in the Alliance’s charity review efforts is voluntary, the Alliance believes that failure to participate may demonstrate a lack of commitment to transparency. Without the requested information, the Alliance cannot determine if this charity adheres to the Standards for Charity Accountability. A charity's willing disclosure of information beyond that typically included in its financial statements and government filings is, in the Alliance's view, an expression of openness that strengthens public trust in the charitable sector.
However, as a non-profit organization, Invisible Children must make their finance public, so you can see for yourself (albeit without the accounting tools that BBB uses).  Here is a link to their 2011 budget.

Last year, the organization spent $8,676,614.  Only 32% went to direct services, while  $1,074,273 was allocated to travel and $1,724,993 was allocated to staff compensation.  Note that direct services doesn't in any way imply effective services.

What is effective services?   Just as it sounds:  doing something that actually causes a change or improves the situation.  This self-aggrandizing video does nothing of the sort.  It simply implies that they want to get government intervention, when in fact their goal is to get you (actually people much richer than you) to open your wallet.  There is an excellent analysis of the actual situation in Uganda at this link:  LA Times/World Now.

From that article:  TMS Ruge, co-founder of online platform Project Diaspora: "This IC campaign is a perfect example of how fund-sucking NGO’s survive. “Raising awareness” (as vapid an exercise as it is) on the level that IC does, costs money. Loads and loads of money. Someone has to pay for the executive staff, fancy offices, and well, that 30-minute grand-savior, self-crowning exercise in ego stroking — in HD — wasn’t free. In all this kerfuffle, I am afraid everyone is missing the true aim of IC’s brilliant marketing strategy.

Fred Opolot, Ugandan government spokesman, quoted in the Telegraph: “It is totally misleading to suggest that the war is still in Uganda. I suspect that if that’s the impression they are making, they are doing it only to garner increasing financial resources for their own agenda.”

Read it for yourself people.  Research is nothing but a Google search away.  This whole situation reminds me of Greg Mortenson and his book Three Cups of Tea.  Mortenson took a tiny bit of fact and built an entirely fictional story around it.  He fooled Oprah, Obama and the US government into believing his claims.  He used his Non-profit organization as a "personal ATM machine" while accomplishing very little in his mission of building schools and educating Pakistani women.  I got the book, by chapter 3, I told my husband this story is to fantastical to be true and sure enough, my cynicism was yet again rewarded.  You can read the 60 Minutes story for yourself.  It is quite disturbing.

Invisible Children watched and learned.  Like Mortenson's Non-Profit "Central Asia Institute" there is enough good going on to fool people into thinking by supporting it, they can make a difference.  But do you want only 30 cents of every dollar you donate going to "try to" help children (albeit in an oversimplified and misguided way) while 70% supports the infrastructure of the organization itself?  I suspect we'll hearing a lot more about this organization in the near future and not all of it will be flattering. 

I'll give my money elsewhere and my prayers to the children of Africa.

Happy Birthday Michaela

Today Michaela would have been 24.  Amazing.  I can imagine the kind of woman she would have been.  It is strange to miss something that never was. 
People often ask me about Michaela's art.  She was amazingly talented (like her brother), but she didn't really focus on art.  She really loved the written word.  She wrote poems and thoughts and lyrics to songs she liked.  She journaled her entire life.  She was often sad and lonely, yet somehow brought light and love to other people.  Few recognized her sadness. 
Since so many people have asked about her art, for her birthday I am giving you a special present--from her.  These are excerpts from the art journal that she kept during her summer abroad in 2008.  I hope you enjoy.


This is the first page of the journal.

A Cityscape drawn over a page of journalling.

Pencil drawing.

A pencil drawing of her Italian instructor, Luca.

Her Favorite singer--from the Band "Fall Out Boy".  She was obsessed.

She believed.  I still have that blue Ipod.  It is engraved :).

A bit of anger, perhaps?

Colored pencil drawing of her friend, Erin and her in a car.

A happy day in Valencia, Spain.

The colors of Capri, Italy in watercolor.

Dear Michaela...Past Midnight is not PM.  You never could tell time on a clock, could you?

Not a fan of the bullfight.  I told her she wouldn't like it before she went.

She was so often lonely.  Youth is hard.

She drew this theme several times and told me it illustrated how she felt awakened by her trip to Europe.

The bottom said:  The FIRST THINGS THAT CAME TO MIND 7/9/2008

She got to do a lot while she was there, but had to budget some things out.  A good life lesson.

This speaks for itself. 

I hope you enjoyed this.  I hope you find beauty in your life the way she did in hers.