Loving the Sacred through Word and Image. Parliament Hill Ottawa. A Wordpress Production

You define You

Designer Baby

BabyL2Sometimes my image gallery comes in very handy. I spend a good amount of time looking for images for the blog.

So that is a thing.

It was a very productive day today. And it was another stellar day, but rain is on the way.

My laundry day has been moving from one day of the week to another. Wednesday was always my laundry day, because it was an off day. But for the last month or so, laundry has been moving across the week, and even to the weekend when necessary.

I did laundry today.

We have one H.E. washer and six regular washers. Every time I go upstairs to do laundry, I have to wait for the person ahead of me. There is a sign in the wash room that states a ten minute rule for laundry left in either the washer or dryer.

Being patient is not a strong suit when it comes to laundry. And I have taken to counting the ten minute rule when it comes to my schedule…

I got my laundry done, went grocery shopping and got the super to come fix a light switch that was on its last leg. When they came to treat us for our ant problem a few weeks ago, the team that did it came in and wrecked the apartment removing all the plates on all of the electrical outlets, switches or plugs, and leaving poison behind them. They were none too gentle with some things.

It only took a couple of minutes for our guy to fix it.

I spent a couple hours surfing the net, and then I took care of some chores I needed to do, in getting the clothing, stuff and shoes changed over for Spring. What do you do with old shoes???

I chucked them into the closet for now. But really I should bag em and toss em.

I took an abbreviated nap, which ended prematurely when hubby got home.

We made it up to the stop, and as we walk up the hill to catch said bus, usually one passes by and we get to wait for the next one. Tonight, that early bus was still back up the street so we made an earlier bus than usual, which got us to the church early.

Our set up guy got the message loud and clear that the institutional chairs go in the back of the room and the patio chairs go up front. Last week he had not placed the comfy chairs out and several of us switched our chairs before the meeting.

There are things you never ask someone.

  • Like, never ask a lady her age.
  • Never OUT a friend.
  • Someones sexual orientation is not necessary information, unless given to you directly.
  • And Never, Never, offer your personal gossip to someone, about someone else, to others.

It was a last minute thing, our speaker was a pinch hitter tonight. And he was a friend.

Every gay has a story about what it was like, what happened, and what it is like now.

Synonymous with our program of recovery.

  1. It doesn’t pay to be the designer baby of the family
  2. Reparative Therapy is useless
  3. Parent should love their children, no matter what, how often, that is not the case
  4. Money can’t buy you happiness
  5. People, Places nor things will ever define us
  6. You – Define – You
  7. Sometime taking the bus and being happy, is better than driving a Mercedes Benz and being miserable

I wonder how much money our man spent in therapy, to get over reparative therapy, that was supposed to change him and failed …

What happened? A martini would be good right about now, so it was.

Having faced death either ones self, or having witnessed a death in your family, is something you cannot take from a human being. Death changes you in ways you just cannot imagine.

Most people, take life for granted. And they mock those of us who have been to hell and have stories to tell. And I just look at them and say … “one day it will come for you, and it will be over!”

Then you will understand.

People who have yet to face death themselves, are clueless to the pain we have seen. Hence, taking life for granted.

People who get sick, don’t usually have a choice.

They get sick, they suffer, they come close to death and (1) survive, and/or (2) pay the ultimate price. In my case, I can’t plead innocence. I still, to this day, don’t know the who, what or why, I got sick, or who gave it to me. And I stopped worrying about that, because once its done, it is done, I had to get on with living or I was going to die like all of my friends.

My friend lost his brother, which took him to the lowest point in his life. And one night, in his garden at home, with a martini in his hand, ready to drink, the thought came to him …

“My brother didn’t have a choice, BUT I do …”

He put down that drink and returned.

He’s got a few months in. It isn’t a cake walk, by any stretch.

Moving from filthy rich and privileged, to taking the bus, I don’t need things to define me, is one hefty swing from one extreme to the other.

Portioning a house one shared with someone for over twenty years, ending that relationship,  jettisoning those “things” that need to go, and making peace with that process is difficult.

He did what he had to do, He is doing what he needs to do. And he chose not to drink over these things, God is doing for him what he cannot do for himself.

Sometimes I feel sorry for my friends, because of life’s lumps. Sometimes I weep during a meeting, because I just can’t understand that some human beings, should never have children, yet here we are, telling our stories, as survivors of those parents, who should not have had children to begin with.

There is a question I asked myself on the way home. I’m not sure that it would be prudent or beneficial to ask it to anyone else either.

My friend is sober tonight, and we are all grateful for that blessing.

Another friend took her twenty two year cake tonight. That woman is the woman who handed hubby his Big Book when he got sober, just before we met. She got him sober, and he has been sober ever since. She has been a fixture in my life for many years.

It was a very good night.

Everybody is sober another night.

More to come, stay tuned …