Life or Lie?

This life began as a dream, but didn’t end as a nightmare.

That word is too optimistic for what this lie became.

For ’tis a lie and not a life that I live.


Three Years

Three years,

A lot can happen in three years:

I’ve seen two more children born to one sister.

I’ve seen one wedding being put together in three months.

I’ve been to two funerals and had to send condolences to another.

I’ve been to four graduations and sent congrats to another.

I’ve found my footing when I’d been homebound for almost five years.

I’ve found peace where previously all I knew was anger.

I’ve seen a family fall apart and then come back together.

I’ve seen strangers turn away the sick and then others welcome the homeless.

People have died,

People have lived.

Lives have been lost,

Lives have been found.

The news has been all over the place:

Storms and hurricanes and cyclones and landslides.

Countries have burned in the fires of revolution;

They have also burned from nature’s wrath, her lightning.

Three years ago, I didn’t know what to do with my life.

I had my family and my friends,

But I didn’t know who I was.

I’m still searching,

But I know which direction to take.

A lot can happen in three years,

And it’s not such a high price to pay.

Written in honor of my third anniversary on

Cleaning Madness

Bleach, vacuum, bleach and then Windex.

Don’t forget the mountains of laundry,

Trying to figure out how much of the homemade laundry soap for thick blankets and quilts.

Sweep and mop,

Wipe that mirror down,

And take out the trash.

More bleach for lots of walls and don’t forget some spots on the ceiling.

(How did ketchup get up there? This is the bathroom!)

Fold the laundry,

Sort the laundry,

And for goodness sake, don’t forget to iron!

Grocery store and shop, shop, shop!

Put the food away,

Try not the smash the eggs in exhaustion.

Thanksgiving is tomorrow and you’re hosting last minute.

The house is clean and the children falling asleep.

Have yet to cook or bake or even dice.

Sit back and rest.

The madness continues in the morning.

Different Life

The room spins about her and she is lost, so very lost. She has never been dizzy before in her life, at least, not physically. Now it is too common a thing and her husband assures her that it is normal for someone in her condition to have sudden cases of vertigo all over the place.

She has been confined to bed by the doctors that her husband hires to check up on her and she takes all the medicine that they prescribe, worry for her small blessing pushing her to trust in the better knowledge of such people. The fact that her child will be very different from other children does not lower her worry, it heightens it instead. Even with her natural healing abilities she worries that her fledgling will not live to see it’s birth.

What she is not aware of is that the ‘medicine’ that she is taking is not all healing. A great many of them are instead for something far more sinister. normally she would have been able to tell. Her senses were better than his, but they were also dulled after spending so much time away from the natural aromas of earth. The pregnancy of a hybrid child was also throwing her senses even further out of balance.

“I wonder where my life will go after this.” she whispered to herself as the lights in the castle, for it was a proper castle now, were slowly extinguished.

She watched out her window as soon the only lights were in the corners of the castle as the watchmen kept the grounds safe. She never interacted with the men in the castle, other than her husband and the doctors he hired. She didn’t interact with a lot of the women either.

Human life was far more different than she thought it would be when she had been plucked from her forest home.

Written for this week’s Trifecta challenge:

It’s the little reminders

Integrity is something that you have to decide to have for yourself. Others can force you to be honest with them by use of consequences, though it’s always been easier to do so without prompting in my experience. The choice to be honest with yourself is not something that you always need to be worrying about, though it is something that you should take the time to think about. Kind of like taking an inventory on yourself once a month just like you can take a moment each month to go over the house finances.

“Organize yourselves; prepare every needful thing; and establish a house, even a house of prayer, a house of fasting, a house of faith, a house of learning, a house of glory, a house of order, a house of God.” (Doctrine and Covenants 88: 119)

I’m not perfect and I won’t claim to be. I screw up and I have lied and I have stolen and I have done things for which I am ashamed to think of. I have not always been honest with others mostly because I have not always been honest with myself. It’s harder to be honest with another, completely honest, when you don’t want to be honest with yourself, but it is easy to judge another because they aren’t being honest and throwing stones and blame at another can make you feel better about yourself. There’s just something about pushing someone down that seems to push you up at the same time. Probably because the actual act of pushing something down has a spring-like reaction in pushing whoever is doing it physically up. (I like to think of it as the Spring Board Effect.)

“He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.” (John 8: 7)

I got a lesson yesterday in personal honesty and integrity from my niece. She was cleaning out the closet that she shares with her mom and happened to find $55 in cash. It had fallen out of her mother’s jeans pocket earlier in the week and hadn’t been missed just yet. Instead of keeping some or even all of the money, she returned it after admitting that she had thought about keeping it, but decided that returning it would be a better use of her time.

She’s not even a teenager yet (almost, less than a year) and sometimes her simple honesty with others as well as herself helps to inspire me to not only want to be a better person, but to actually act on it and be one.

Typical Saturday Morning

I sit here at home and listen to the sound of children as they move about the house. They argue and talk and whine and run about. Cars are banged on, piggy banks are dumped out and all the coins are counted fiercely. One child begs to have a turn on the computer, but he needs someone to log him in. Another refuses to move from their bed, but at least got dressed. The last insists on brushing her hair in the dark in a walk-in closet because she finally knows her way around everything on the floor.

Soon they will start their household chores before running off to the library and spending a day amongst the shelves of computer screens. They will read and wonder and draw and look up things about Minecraft and a million other things before their time runs out.

They will trudge home under a cold, clear Autumn sky and rub their hands together to keep them warm. Once they reach the street they live on, they will bound forward with renewed energy and play with friends available before coming back inside and reading some more. Maybe they will cajole their way into more video game time or perhaps they will hole themselves up in a bedroom and fashion things from legos and other toys before beginning a grand adventure that crosses planets and oceans and the stars without ever leaving the room. Maybe they will draw some more and bring their creations out to hang upon the backdoor with light streaming through.

These children all around me will take random moments in time to stop and make sure that their grandmother and aunt are fine and are they sure they don’t need anything? Their mother is at work and will call to check in just in case because grandmother’s health is shaky and aunt’s memories like to retrograde at random moments. Still, all are welcome within the small home that houses six and two cats.

Of all the things I am grateful for the health and happiness of these children all around me is one the most paramount.

Written for FreeWriteFriday and posted a day late as usual for me. smiles

I Don’t Deserve This

How could this happen to me?

I made my mistakes

Got no where to run

The night moves on.

I’m lost and alone and I don’t know who these people are. They are all around me and they seem to know me, but I don’t know them.

I’m lost and alone and I’m afraid at first. These people move around me and close to me in a way that is frightening.

I’m lost and alone, but I’m no longer afraid. There is a young boy who takes me hand and leads me away.

I’m lost, but not alone, because this boy exudes a sense of peace as he sits me down and carefully puts his arms around me. His hug makes me cry, but from nothing but love.

I’m lost, but not alone because I can feel that I am loved. My companion is familiar, but a stranger at the same time.

I’m lost, but not alone and I know I have done nothing to deserve this. Unconditional love given in response to fear melts my heart and fills me with joy.

I’m lost, but not alone because the boy next to me lives what I know. Real family will love you no matter what conditions or problems you have.


Written for this week’s Trifecta challenge: