“My Lord,” a strong, soft voice drew his eyes upwards. “I beg to serve thee.” She stated with head bowed and her own eyes closed.

Sir Dorad Archstone gasped. The future of his city knelt before him, begging to serve him? What in the nine hells had happened to her?

– — – — – — – — – — – — – — – –

Coming soon: - Visions By C.A. Dubois

What is Visions? An unfleshed story envisioned as C.A. Dubois lay sick in bed, written from memories, hopefully cohesive.

See?

Makes.No.Sense.

Lemme try again!

I am really at a crossroads right now.  I want to blog about something that is ongoing in my life, but feel that if I do, people will get bent out of shape.

Now I know that I am not in control of whether or not people get bent. I also know the opinions, thoughts and feelings I would blog about are my own. I don’t expect anyone else to hold the same views. Any person who walks away from my post with specific feelings is responsible for them – as they are their feelings.  That being said, there is a large chance that should I blog about what I wish to, someone would get bent and friendships could be effected; friendships for another person.

Ah hell. Basically I am concerned that if I blog about the thing I want to, people who read my blog and know @TheWocket will be upset and thus somehow it will affect their relations with @TheWocket. That is my concern.

I have no doubt that if I expressed my opinions here, people might get bent with me. And I am okay with that. I expect it. I accept that. But I am not so certain that those involved will be able to separate things so that it does not overflow onto @TheWocket or anyone else.

I know I am an over-opinionated bitch. I have never claimed otherwise. I know once I set my opinions/views/thoughts/beliefs, there isn’t much that will change them. I know that often times people do NOT agree with me. And I am totally okay with that. In fact I welcome it.  Each of us is entitled to be who we are, the way we are.

I am often accused of swaying other’s mindframes. It happened with @Sarie, @Rach, and many other friends. For whatever reason, people in their lives firmly believed and blamed MY presence on my friends choices.  It always infuriates me because my friends are MORE THEN CAPABLE of making their own choices. Blaming me takes away the credit they deserve for being brave enough to make their own choices. Here at The G.H.C. House (So named for the owners of this house formally known as the J3P house), we joke about how any little change will be blamed on Cy.

It’s stupid, but it does happen. I have watched as my closest friends become ostracized from others simply because they agreed with a standpoint or choice I made, and others believed I made that choice for my friends as well. In my current situation I don’t want that to happen for @TheWocket.

Thus I feel stuck. trapped. bound to silence, simply to avoid bringing any strife into relationships @TheWocket and other’s may have.

But the silence is pissing me off!

Seriously, I am pissed. Pissed because I *should* be able to blog what I want. I have the power to. I could write it all down. I WANT to write it down. I’ve tried the old standby of write it but do not post. That does not purge it from my system. I’ve tried the traditional, ‘give it a few days, it will ease’ approach.

No. It hasn’t.

The fact remains I care about @TheWocket. About his life, his health, his friends, his joy. I want nothing I ever say here to reflect poorly for him or on him. So I have shut my mouth so to speak and I HATE IT WITH A PASSION!

I don’t do group friendships well. Obviously. I am too outspoken, too opinionated and too of the mindframe that while we may be a group, we each have our own ways.

This sucks ass.

I hate it.

Fuck.

That’s my blog post. Why Not – Right?

I KNOW!!!!!!……

I am a league sanctioned bowler now. I lob a 10.4 lb, blue, white, and black, Maxim brand ball who is named Captain Midnight! (true story, the ball was labled “captain midnight” on the shipping box)

I do NOT own a bowling ball bag. Those are **soooo** last decade!!!!! I transport my ball in a chrome, duct tape box!!!

Yeah…… Don’tcha wish yo bowler was HOT like me!

Why Not – Right?

@TheWocket and I have been talking recently.  While we’ve covered many, many subjects, as we often do; one subject came up that struck me on so many levels – it lead to the recent weeks of blog silence on my part. The silence comes not from being wordless, but feeling unable to express myself in a non-offensive, but accurate manner. I’ve actually confessed my reticence to @TheWocket, explaining to him face to face what it is I wish to convey and expressing my concern at it’s ramifications. I even offered to never write at this blog again, purchase another, secret domain and move my writings elsewhere. @TheWocket would not hear of it.

“It’s your blog Angel. Write what you want. If others do not like it, ban them.” was his response.

Thanks @TheWocket, for the listening, the support and those words. They don’t take away my angst, but at least I am not going into this post alone. *kiss*

Again without prior setup: @TheWocket and I were speaking a few weeks back, and the subject of my boys came up. This isn’t that unusual really. I often share tidbits about them, and sometimes @TheWocket or others are curious, so they ask questions. During one of these conversations, the subject was broached about my boys, and my lack of photos of them.

At first, when @TheWocket mentioned it, my response was to blink wildly….dazed. Apparently, people or peoples think it slightly odd that I, as a mother, don’t have pictures abound of my boys. This concern, along with the fact that there aren’t many real life people around here who have known me for years, was brought to @TheWocket so that he could be aware of these “questions”.

I was honestly…….. kind of blown away-ish. “What does me having pictures of my sons have to do with anything?” I asked quickly.

He just looked at me and sort of shook his head. He wasn’t questioning me, he was merely expressing questions about me brought to him.

I can still hear my shocked voice as I said, “But I have pictures….they are on my rolltop desk at home in michigan. In fact I even twipic’d the desk and noticed the boys pictures were in the desk picture.”

I truly was shocked that something like me, having or not having pictures of my dead sons being a warning bell to someone that I am some sort of bad person.

“I mentioned you only packed to come to Kansas for a week.” He softly offered. The look on his face said it all, even he didn’t understand the picture thing.

I was really quite stunned by this, and it took some time and thought before I could speak of it again. When I did, suddenly I felt like I had to explain myself, with regards to pictures and my boys. It made me sick.

I sat with @TheWocket and carefully tried to explain……hell I don’t know what i tried to explain. I think what I did was start speaking about that time…. back after they died…..until now.

I realized in speaking with @TheWocket, that while I am okay speaking of my sons, their death and also their/our lives together, I am only okay with that when I am not having to share, or explain my pain.

And suddenly as I tried so hard to unemotionally explain to @TheWocket about why after they died I kept no pictures, why after the fire I asked no one for copies, or why I stopped contact with my few friends after I moved away…… I felt horrid shame.

It was the act of having to justify how I grieved, continue to grieve that shamed me. It was explaining to him that photos of the boys hold no real memories, the memories are etched on my soul….. it was looking at him and suddenly asking, “Was I wrong not to have their pictures to flaunt around?”

I felt shame, humilation and as if suddenly, I’d just found out the last 11 years of my life I’d lived WRONG!

**deep breath**

I was pretty tore up, to the point that I called @NAMG and over the phone I talked – she listened. It was as I asked her, “Is it wrong for me to NOT have their pictures to show people?” that I also revealed more of my pain surrounding their deaths. I told @NAMG how I am okay speaking of their deaths, or of our lives….. and then i heard myself say for perhaps the first time outloud, “But I am NOT okay with sharing my personal pain with anyone. I can’t do that yet… not yet.”

She, being a true friend listened, and comforted and dared not judge. We spoke of how I did not wish to express my feelings on this subject in an emotional, possibly manipulative way. I wanted @TheWocket to understand my past as it were, yet I didn’t want pity or sorrow to be his reasons for acting or responding.

@TheWocket and I did speak of this subject again…. and slowly, with tears at times, but mostly as I worked to keep my composure, i explained as best I could that sharing my pain, which is still VERY REAL” isn’t easy for me. I told him how before this was ever brought up, I’d wrestled with the idea of sending for my boys pictures. I explained that it hurt to look at them and it hurt worse to share them….. that in my heart I had a STRONG feeling that someone, anyone, should DESERVE to see my boys pictures, before I ever show them.

I was floored he understood. Floored and oh so grateful. He is the greatest man I know due to his gentle understanding.

Yet, despite the listening ears and understanding of my friends, the entire subject still bothered me….. only it bothered me for a far different reason then I’d thought it would.

I can’t look at anyone and say my way of handling the boys deaths was “right”. I always said (before they died) “I would just die if my kids were killed before me!” <— I meant that with every ounce of my soul. In the game of trying to imagine what “You” would do in any given circumstance, I was POSITIVE I would not live if my children died.

Then they died.

Then I lived…………

In the immediate days, weeks months after their deaths, I woke up each time realizing I hadn’t died yet. I spent my days struggling with other peoples pain…… not able to share mine with anyone…. always dealing with it alone. Hell, I even up and moved away, cutting all ties to all my friends and support systems because I could not bear it.

I lived.

And then, as years passed, I started healing.

Like I admitted to @NAMG, I see NOW it was not good to cut ties and run away like I did. And by the time I realized that, years later…. I figured it was too late. I’d burned those bridges.

I’ve never been proud of that. But it was the best I could do at that time. *holds hands out, palms up, shaking head regretfully*

I also never realized, at least consciously that one of the reasons I have lived such a solitary life is because I kept people at a distance by not sharing my pain. I realize it now. That’s a huge step for me, albeit not easy.

And now I sit here with just a sickening feeling in my tummy. Wondering why anyone, anywhere would even try to question what another person does during a traumatic, life altering loss.

How are “you” to judge the fact that I do NOT display pictures of my deceased sons? Seriously…. who are you? Perhaps to “you” it may not be normal, but have “you” lived in my shoes?

I know since the day the boys died, I have never, ever second guessed, questioned, compared, judged or quantified any persons reaction to death or traumatic loss.

I understand now, we each do the very best our personal systems allow.

What kind of mother does not have pictures of her kids and has a fire so she lost all of them and has no friends from those years ago?

THIS ONE.

Not right, nor wrong, just who I am.

And as of this post, I’ll no longer be ashamed of how I have conducted myself with regards to my sons ddeaths or my grief. And I forgive myself too. I finally see, no thanks to nosy people who feel they have a “right” to know, that I *really* did do the best I could at the time.

And I’m still living.

My Bodaciously Beautiful friend Janey, (aka @CitizenJaney) from Confessions of a Middle Aged Suburban Diva started a new, weekly, blogging feature she entitles: Being Bodacious.

Janey’s weekly ‘Being Bodacious’ is all about women, finding and revealing the best parts of themselves. In Janey’s words: I’m a huge proponent and fan of my gender. I do volunteer work with my gender. I support causes affecting my gender. I genuinely (most of the time) like my gender.

We chicks really do have it going on.

However (and you had to know that was coming)… we women are unnecessarily hard and unsupportive of each other. And in turn, ourselves. It’s partly our nature (Hey! I can say that because I am a girlie), partly our environment and partly who else knows what. We women spend – no, we waste – time being contrary to one another, either directly or indirectly when that time and energy could be better spend doing something constructive. Life’s tough enough without adding any extra unnecessary angst.

Whew.

Does that make sense? It can get a little heady up here on my soap box.

In an attempt to make a small positive difference for my gender, I’ve decided to host a weekly self-celebration for us girls. Yes, it’s a meme. But it’s a meme with a purpose.

We’re going to spend time once a week Being Bodacious.

I’ll throw out a topic for discussion and exposition – something that will be thoughtful and insightful, a little funny (c’mon – it’s goofy me helming this after all) and completely constructive, celebratory and creative.

What an outstanding idea, and one I adore. This week, is Chapter 2 in the Being Bodacious weekly feature. This week, Janey asks “So, my bodacious sistahs – this week, we all want to know what your personal theme song is… and why you chose it. Why it speaks to you and for you. How it makes you feel?”

**blink…. blink**

Janey asks the tough questions, doesn’t she? That’s why I love her so! Janey says; “A theme song should serve a couple of purposes, the way I see it. First, it should be a song YOU love. Not like, not tolerate, not think is just so-so. LOVE.

Second, it should be a song whose lyrics – and even the melody – should represent some part, some essence of you.

A song that makes you feel good.

Gives you confidence.

Lifts your spirits.

Highlights your bodaciousness….”

Okay Janey, you asked for it, so here goes:

There was no choosing a song for me. Since 1993, when my song was released, it has been more then a theme song, it’s been my Life Song.  In  1993 my son was 5 years old. Wise beyond his years, he remarked to me after seeing the movie in which this song was the Theme Song for; “Momma that’s a life song.”

“Whaddya mean Lil Man Tate?” (My personal nickname for my oldest son was Lil Man Tate)

He studied the road I was driving down and nodded. “It’s a song that fits everybody’s life Momma….” he announced before begining to sing the lyrics loudly. As I watched my little tow head bouncing in the seat, clapping his hands and really getting into the music, I couldn’t help but smile.

“If every person everywhere thought of this song and treated others while knowing we all sing this song in our hearts…. we’d be better peoples Momma.” He blurted out.

I was stunned by his brilliant observation. My son was correct. **If** I would live my life, always remembering with each and every interaction I had with another person, the message of this song…..

So for this week’s Being Bodacious challange, I share that song.  This song doesn’t just represent “ME”. In my eyes, in my life, I always hear this song and know in my heart that each and every person feels like this at some point. We all cry out, even if silently for another to understand us, help us, be there for us. And because I try daily, to keep this song’s feelings forefront in my mind as I meet and interact with people, I can honestly say…… I carry each of you with me every.single.day.

I hope, before I post this song, you get out your earbuds/headphones/ or turn on your speakers. I dare you to turn up your volume, and clap…….. even sing along. Let it lift you up, as it always has lifted me. And remember, not only is this my Theme song, it’s my Life Song. Yes, it refelcts my questions to the Universe, but it also reflects how I try to let those people in my life know one thing:

“I’ll Never Let You Part
For You’re Always In My Heart.”

My Being Bodacious Theme/Life Song:

Will You Be There – Michael Jackson

Will You Be There lyrics

[Spoken]
In Our Darkest Hour
In My Deepest Despair
Will You Still Care?
Will You Be There?
In My Trials
And My Tripulations
Through Our Doubts
And Frustrations
In My Violence
In My Turbulence
Through My Fear
And My Confessions
In My Anguish And My Pain
Through My Joy And My Sorrow
In The Promise Of Another Tomorrow
I’ll Never Let You Part
For You’re Always In My Heart.

Thanks Janey for such an excellent challenge. I love you!