This is sort of a continuation of the Wednesday, Feb. 26th rant on wanting and trying to make life as pleasant as possible.

As you all know, I’ve had vehicle troubles lately – which, of course, means I’ve had money troubles. (who doesn’t?:)
I was without my truck for 3 weeks, and then I had it back TWO DAYS and it wouldn’t start. Hhhaaaaah. I called the mechanic (nice guys, really – this new problem was NOT their fault) and they helped me to ascertain (in a very respectable, non-“we are talking to a dingy broad” way) that it was probably my starter.
I knew my landlord was on the way to pick up the rent, so I figured I’d ask him for a jump, to be sure it wasn’t just the battery.
(For those of you who don’t know, I have a really wonderful little house. It’s my landlords’ parents’ old home, and I love it. It’s in a big, pretty wooded yard with fruit trees and vines, two bedrooms, a great porch, nice fire pit in the back, and my rent is so obscenely low that if I were to say what it was here, blocked internet systems wouldn’t be able to show this rant.)
Not only did my landlord try to jumpstart my truck, but when it didn’t work, he took the battery out for me, drove me to the parts place to have it checked, gave me back 100$ of my rent so that I could buy a new starter, took me to visit his brother (who used to be my neighbor, but is now in an assisted living place) and took me out to a nice lunch.

I’ve been living here a while. Nearly six years, I think, and when I first moved here I didn’t know a soul. A lot of people would – and some people have – tried to take advantage of the fact that I have no father/brother/uncle/granddad/hubby to come to my aid in rough times. But Grover and his family have treated me like a family member since day one. I think there are a lot of reasons why – they are good, old fashioned Christian people. There are some old fashioned people and some Christian people who would still only do what they HAD to do, and not think twice of it. As nice as Grover is, I wouldn’t have expected him to go so far out of his way to help me. My rent is REALLY low. He could have wished me luck and gone on his way and neither of us thought a thing about it. But he didn’t, and I think the reason is a combination of all those things – good, old fashioned, Christian, and southern. He grew up* in a time and place where it was better to have a little less than you might have so that you don’t have to see a neighbor or friend do without. He didn’t help me (or keep my rent low, or give me a nice gift every Christmas**, etc…) because he’s trying to earn a better place in heaven, or to gain anything from me. He did it because That’s Just How You Do Things. And he knows that I understand that and try to live that way, too.
I realize that a LOT of people have made their fortunes by being able to hoard and have much while people around them go without. I’d like to be rich, but I don’t think I’d be very good at it.
Even when I am sad and hurting, I am always aware that I am truly blessed. I can’t imagine how bad the pain and sadness would be if it weren’t for all the wonderful, generous, loving, funny people I have in my life. I hope I have a chance to return it all, to pass it on, to keep it going.
I hope that you are all equally blessed, and that you have many chances to pass it on.
-s

*And I was raised by grandparents and aunts who grew up that way, too.
**Usually food. (Woo-hoo!) Home made jams and jellies, and fig preserves, last year!
Mmmmm! I am a honey-bear, y’all!

someone called ‘just little me’ wrote something very dear in my guest book. i’m so sad to say that i am just jaded and paranoid enough to wonder (and optimistic enough to hope) that they are what they say they are, because their post really touched my heart.
i have a guess as to who this mystery-person is, but of course my natural curiosity WANTS TO KNOW. (Please write to me, samarei7@yahoo.com, and tell me who you are… 'sounds like we could both use someone else to talk to.)

i hope i made it clear that i have a LOT of people that i could talk to, but it’s just so hard for me to do it. i can say some things to anybody, but there are certain things that i cannot say at all… i am trying.
it means the world to me that this anonymous person would reach out like this. it seems as if this person is either a very good judge of character, or is a lot like me*, because they are definitely speaking to my heart.

whoever you are, i hope that what you are going through is bearable, and that the hard part – the hurt – will help you to grow in good ways, make you stronger… thank you for saying what you’ve said. to know that what I’ve been through, what i still go through, and my need to talk and write and draw about it helps to give you hope means the whole wide world to me. i strive to be a candle in my own darkness, and a light for others too. That seems to make it all – whatever it is – worthwhile.
if you ever want to talk, or just hang out and enjoy the light part of life sometime, you know where to find me, obviously. :)
thank you. be a candle.
-s

*and if you are whom i suspect, it think it must be both of these. (f.c., s.b.f.o.E.d.)

Well, it seems that the sadness that came to visit me a few days ago is not going anywhere. In fact, it has propped up its feet, put on a pot of coffee, and is inviting all of its friends over. At least it isn’t fatal – or even unfamiliar. I will survive it, just like everything else so far, but this is one I’m really going to have to work hard on.
Today I feel like the weather looks. The whole world seems filled with a giant soft, misty grey cloud. I feel as if someone touched me I would begin to rain.
What’s really funny is that, other than that central core of blue-grey, I am happy. Things have been worse. I finally got my truck back, my back is healing, and I’ve gotten a lot done at home, at work, and art-wise. I am making some plans for future fun and work…
But down at the bottom of all of it is this 360-pound truth that has me feeling bruised to the bone. Deep, deep – and I fear permanent – sadness.
Does everyone have that? And is it related to very specific things? I’ve known people who were just clinically, chemically depressed. That’s not me. My spirit and my body are just naturally bouncy. I must seem bi-polar to my friends (whatever the hell that really means – I assume it refers to severe chemical mood swings) but the truth of the matter is that I am like a fancy jello salad molded over a brick. I feel wiggly and sweet most of the time, but if you cut down deep enough, there’s this solid, permanent weight that displaces a whole lot of space where more jello should be.
I really wish I could have a serious word with the cooks.

What’s been getting at me lately is this ridiculous emotional tenderness that’s come with this latest wave of my childhood’s re-visitation. Even just sitting here, trying to find ways to say all of this without seeming maudlin or frivolous is bringing me to tears. If I think of it, this most recent parcel of misery my parents have sent me (even dead and gone, they have this ability), I break down, just a little. To think on this one thing, this latest thing, brings up the whole kit and caboodle. Everything. I wonder how many more times in life will I have to go through this. How many more surprises can they spring on me? How much more work do I have to do to come to terms with the past? And how are my siblings dealing with it?
The greatest ‘surface’ misery is this craving I have for someone to hold me and let me just get it all out. There are people who would do this, quite a few, I think, but there are none that I could allow myself to do it with. And that says a lot about me and my ability to trust. Of the two people with whom I could and would allow myself this comfort, one is dead, and the other might as well be. My anger toward them seems to grow in direct proportion to my sadness, because not only can I not seek comfort with them, but they also created a child - no, three children who are unable to seek it anywhere else.

I make do. I find small comforts and patch them together. But it is wine to a woman thirsty for water, and I have to come to term with the fact that it will more likely always be this way.
This is a lot of ‘nudity’ for a Saturday morning, innit? I’m sorry. I think I’m just trying to get it out of me and into the world. It’s definitely !@#$ing up my jello. Maybe one of you has a clue, and will write to me. Maybe one of you will think twice before laying something very heavy on an unsuspecting heart. Maybe one of you feels this way, too and just understands. Maybe one or more of you have parents and/or children out there and this will remind you to give them whatever love and forgiveness you have for them today, not tomorrow or next year.
And maybe the one person who really NEEDS to read this will, and it will light a spark of truth and light in a dark, dark place.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.