Old photographs and poetry

Old photographs and poetry...


you still have a hold in my life.
I tear down the images
your face imprints into my mind.
I hide the glass that keeps you constant.
I cannot move one with your perpetual gaze.
If only I could hide the memories...


I heard your words, read on yellowed paper. 
I feel the warmth on my face though its meaning has changed.
I burn the language you invented for us. 
The love and wit crackle with each flame
I cannot move on with your ancient tongue. 
If only I could set fire to the memories.... 

To a certain someone

To a certain someone I feel I must inform you that I no longer care what you think or what ships you sink.
And I feel you must know that you'll have to let it go that I no longer wear my hair the way that used to make you stare, and my clothes have change since you've since become a stranger to me.
I'm sick and tired of trying to read your mind. You cannot believe that I still wish we were together when we were never together mentally. I feel you have simply lost touch with reality.
You and me can never be since you lost touch with what we used to be.
Used to be...


To a certain someone, I feel I need to remind you that you've seemed to lost your mind when you called me blind to what I was leaving behind. Please wipe my smile from your mind. I can no longer be kind.
You made a mistake in thinking this was just a break and now you want to make me take your word.


To a certain someone, you forgot you caused the problems when I wanted to solve them.
You'll have to move on and I'll sing my song- but don't worry, I'll change the names so you won't be blamed for the change in me from how I used to be and why I smile a bit more than before, why I don't cry like I used to when I was with you. Now I'm not with you and that suits me just fine. It's relief for my mind...


To a certain someone....

Clarence on the wall

The breeze carries a gentle tune as Richard plots, ruffling his concentration and furrowed brow.
Elizabeth pushes back a stray blonde hair as she smiles at her king, though Edward's health is quickly fading.
Lords Rivers and Grey support their sweet sister, perhaps scared for her future.
And Clarence is hidden, hanging on the wall. 
Anne falls for a riddle and a poem, tripping from the tongue of a dog in disguise.
Richard devours another heart and licks his lips clean of the crime.
Edward sighs.
The crown falls to the floor.
And Clarence who was hidden, now floats with the angels.
Queen Margaret, prophetess, shares all though no one listens. 

The children cry, though they know not why.

The mothers cry for themselves, only giving a small glance to the sanity they lost to the boar.
Margaret laughs to herself, their misery her delight. 
Richard continues his plans, green and red. 
Only blessed Richmond can stop his envy and anger, plagues though they are. 
The mother York mourns alone.
The hidden princess is untainted.
Buckingham and Hasting water the flowers on their shallow graves.
Richard fearing shadows, destroyed under the blotted sun. 
And the puppets dance and sing without their strings, leading the players in their mad dance; silence and footfall, their refrain. 

The Diva is doomed, revised

The diva has no hope.

The diva smiles for the crowd but, below the act, she wants to scream aloud. 

The diva wants to let the monster out. 

Below the diva's stage, her foundation is crumbling.
The diva covers her pain and troubles with makeup and band-aids.

The diva is now haunted by her mistakes, 

yet continues to fail her loved ones.

The diva's unrelenting ability to destroy is her downfall.

The diva surrounds herself with friends and emotion,on a crowded stage of strangers. 

The diva always fears time spent alone, for there the truth finds her.
The diva forgets how to bleed, but she can show you her scars.
The diva never knew how to love. All that beats is her broken heart. 
The diva sings no melody, but has her own tune and march. 
The diva has discovered true loneliness though she hides behind a glass of wine.
The diva never keeps time, too busy in the limelight. 

The diva is tortured by the demons she has created.
The diva has no room for clothes in her closet, full of skeletons.
The diva has compromised her life, her emotions, her relationships.
No script will save her speech when all charisma is sucked away from her eyes.
She will discover the bottom of the empty bottle.

No role will spare her from real emotion.
No revival will save the diva's soul.

The diva is doomed. 

Tahrea, Vegetarian, Part Two or The End of National Vegetarian Month

I did not intend for my previous blog to be a two part thing, but I've actually had some great feedback the first part. I thought I'd follow up and expand on a few things. As of yesterday, I've been a vegetarian for four months now! Yay! I have felt better and my body has been functioning better, excluding these past few weeks where my cast mates and I have been sharing some sort of bug with each other. I have actually lost 24 pounds since I started this endeavor, an extra fabulous bonus. :o)
Every once in a while, I find myself craving a steakburger from Steak N Shake or bacon. However, since I look at this whole change as a challenge for myself, I know that not giving in to certain cravings only helps me build my will power. To me, it's like some one trying to quit smoking, though not as extreme. What's aggravating is that when someone close to me says they reeeeeally want to smoke a cigarette and I support them by discouraging that craving, but when I make a small mention about how I kinda miss bacon, I am encouraged to EAT the bacon. Argh. That response certainly does not helping my personal cause. Luckily, the worse BAD craving that has cracked me is french fries. Yep, I've gone through a drive thru as of late for some fries and a fruit and yogurt parfait more than once. GUILTY. :o/
As we end National Vegetarian Month, I reflect on the past couple of months and realize how much I've learned about myself and about the amazing alternatives I have been given or have discovered. I hope that more people will explore healthier options for themselves and make healthy decisions for themselves as they reach for their next meal.
Remember, we eat to live. We do not live to eat.

It could be worse but I'm glad it's not....

I should be asleep. I SHOULD be. I'm in bed. It is late at night. I should be asleep. But I'm not. Instead I find myself sinking into the melancholy void that tends to overtake me when I find myself suddenly alone. Sometimes it hits me when I'm driving alone or when I'm doing something menial at work; random actions which one does alone. UGH... it's hard to shake sometimes. It isn't that I'm depressed, just... brooding in my solitude. This is a state few "emo" kids can only hope to achieve, y'know.
No I'm not depressed. That's not it. I mean, about what have I to be depressed? Yeah, I've got a few things pulling against me right now, but I've got a few great things going for me. I have several things to which I am look forward including a date with a pretty decent guy on Friday. I am surrounded by friends and family. I have a terrific theatre family who is overwhelming me with SO many great memories and moments....
...but I'm still in this funk. Bleh. At least I am feeling sleep pull at my eyes, slowing my fingers as they dash across this keyboard. My intent on writing tonight was to expel poetic nonsense about my sense of self seclusion and lonesome feeling. Yet here I sit, babbling. I guess I just need to keep repeating "It could be worse but I'm glad it's not...." Words by which to live.

It could be worse but I'm glad it's not....

Tahrea, vegetarian

A few months ago, I started a journey, so to speak. I decided to give up meat, eggs, and (maybe) dairy. I pretty much went cold turkey on eggs, since I didn't consume eggs on a regular basis. It took about a week for me to work myself into a meatless diet. (Dairy? Pfft. I'm typing this as I munch on pasta with Parmesan cheese.) I was pumped about this decision. Even though I am surrounded but borderline carnivores, I have found major support from friends and folks I didn't even know were vegetarians. Since I cannot seem to fully kick dairy, I don't see a complete crossover to veganism in my near future. (Sorry vegans.)

People keep asking me, "Well, what do you eat?" I hate that question almost as bad as "Where do you get your protein?" (What do they say about bringing a knife to a gun fight?) Don't ask a vegetarian (or a vegan) either of those questions. They are ignorant questions. Since the switch, I've found that humans put meat and cheese in just about EVERYTHING we cook and eat. It's ridiculous! Meat can be replaced by extra veggies, rice, tofu or beans. If you use meats for flavoring purposes, like bacon, you can try bacon bits for salads and a certain amount of liquid smoke. Those are just two substitutions I have found.  I also found a major love for beans (frijoles negros!) and nuts, both an amazing substitute for meat and great sources for protein. (Hah, ignorance!)

If you've been my facebook friend or twitter follower for anytime in the past few months, you will have noticed the random food and vegetarian related postings. I know it seems odd to post a picture of my lunch, but there is a method to my madness. 1.) I decided to document my journey into this widely known yet misunderstood realm of life. 2.) I wanted to show that vegetarians can eat and eat well. I'm not exactly trying to flaunt it or shove it in people's faces but rather share and enlighten. People eat before they think, stuffing themselves with unknown garbage and then wonder why they feel sickly or why they are borderline obese. It is not a mystery. Another reason why I chose this lifestyle was because I wanted to find ways of eating healthier and smarter. For the past three months, I have gone through a drive-thru twice. Twice. Once in late August and once last week. Both times for a mini blizzard from DQ (ARGH Dairy!). That's it, and that says a lot because I'm constantly on the go, driving between work, home, teaching, rehearsal, and church. I have started making meals and eating at home a lot more than before. I have found that if I choose my own ingredients and make it myself I have a better grasp on what exactly I am putting in my body. In my research and reading ( MAN, have I researched this stuff) I have found a lot of great recipes and substitutes and I've also made up some dishes of my own. :o) It is empowering to be able to know that I'm doing something worthwhile for my body, bettering myself and my life. It has been a major confidence boost and it is exciting! 

"You are what you eat" carries a different tune here. If you consume crap (pop, foods of unknown origin, meat) you will feel like crap. You can/will feel sluggish, fat, unmotivated, and sick. If you eat healthier you can feel healthier. You only have one life here on this planet. Why bog it down with unnecessary stress on your body and on your mind? Honestly, I'm not out to change the world with this lifestyle change. You, my friends, will each choose to eat what you what and believe what you want, just as I do. But please be smart. Love your bodies.

Happy National Vegetarian Month! 

(Please recognize that I'm not joining PETA, this is not a religious decision, and it is not based on animal cruelty. Though I am disgusted with the way animals are treated in the process, and I COULD go on about my opinions and findings on THAT subject, that is not the initial reason behind my change.)

Another time of mourning...

Due to a completely unrelated and completely ridiculous string of events, I did not feel the least bit compelled to answer the phone when it rang, signifying that Ray (Biological father) was calling me at Midnight tonight. Sure enough, he left a voicemail. On said voicemail, he informed me that Ethel, my late grandfather's wife, had passed away on the 19th. Ray himself had apparently just discovered this information and wanted to pass the info along. For anyone who has read my blogs in the past or found any particular interest in the random babblings on my facebook page, you know that I went to Georgia back around Easter. That was the second time in my life I had been in that house, the first time I could remember. That time with Ethel turned out to an extremely significant time that I will never forget. She touched my heart in a way that would lead one to believe we were very close. Though we've know of each other my entire life, I had no relationship with her or my grandfather of which to speak except for the little time I spent in their home as a baby and the two weeks I was there this past spring. However, I learned much about/from Ethel and that house. I created memories that I will always cherish. I hated leaving her and that house. I guess these are the reasons why I bawled when I got tonight's unexpected message. I guess that's why I'm still crying... and why my heart hurts.
She was a dear woman, and would've been 90 this year. Gosh. 90 years old. She had a great life though I know she was probably heartbroken over the death of her husband. And I know she was suffering physically. But, now she is at peace. And even through the sadness I thank God I was given the opportunity to meet her and be able to spend time with her, and to have so many questions answered.

I pray for peace for her loved ones because I know she will be missed by her family.
God bless you Ethel.

Another emo poem........

So close to being with you
so close to the brink
I can hardly think
You push me on
you write my song
I want to hold you close
I want to be free
I just want to fly
I can't remember
I only feel the wind
Why am I here?
You won't be there 
in the end
You'll run away
You'll leave me on the curb
You'll leave me on the line
standing alone again.
But you push me on
you write my song
You make me want to hold you
though I want to be free to fly
I wish I could remember how to feel
Why am I here?
You'll only drive me away
or drive me over the edge
I'll never feel your warmth
You'll keep me at arm's length
over the cliff
I'll dangle for you
as long as I know you're there

A serious issue of theatrical proportions

I have been mulling over an issue that has hit me hard lately. It may not impact others the way it has me, but I feel quite passionate about this. It's an issue that slightly frightens me. We have a wonderful theatre community in Central Ohio. And yet live theatre is suffering, locally and nationally. Companies are merging, downsizing, and even closing. It kills me. Since becoming a reviewer with Theatre Vault I have been connected with so many wonderful people, and  pleasantly surprised by how many theatres we have in our hometown. I have also picked up on a couple of common themes: Lack of space, lack of funding, lack of interest. Lather, rinse, and repeat with the next theatre company.  And not just the community theatres either. Our main equity house, CATCo, has also felt the harsh blow of our currently economy to a great extent. How tragic is it that an actor's escape or true utopia, their home, the stage, is being threatened by something  beyond the realm of creativity? How sad is it that we must almost beg and borrow to make a halfway decent production only to be let down by a miniscule crowd on opening night?
 Luckily (for most theatre groups) actors are creative, giving, and resourceful folks who find ways to make their shows work. Instead of performing on an actual stage, you find theatres like Raconteur Theatre Company, a company that is often seen performing on the second floor of Club Diversity. You also find a lot of costumes, props, and sets are borrowed between theatre companies, as we are a community and we are all connected through each other. For some theatres who don't have their own home stage, there are others like Columbus Civic Theatre who allow other companies to share their stage and utilize their facilities. So there are a many resources and people in our city who are willing to make ends meet in the midst of the dreary circumstance. Still, there is a need. There are still those who are feeling the harsh blows. What else can be done? PLENTLY. My favorite thing to do is to audition. Support your local theatres by auditioning or being involved backstage. So many patrons are sick of seeing the same actors in every show. If you are one of those patrons, put up or shut up. AUDITION! Donate your time to props and costumes. Sit in the freaking tech booth and push buttons. My next suggestion is to donate props, costumes, or even money. A litte, a lot- it doesn't matter. Every little bit helps. And stop complaining about ticket prices. If you want to see a show, save up and go. Support the theatre and the actors. You never know; that extra money might be going towards the meager recompense of the actors. Yeah, your attendance may pay the actors. The actors will love you for that. Theatres always appreciate their patrons in their programs and newsletters. We need people who are willing to support our art. And I don't mean theatre folk supporting theatre folk. We get bored with each other after a while. I mean regular, not theatrical, sane everyday americans looking for entertainment, education, and an escape from their everyday american lives.
Bottom line, something has to be done. There needs to be a radical change in our community. I'm one person. PHYSICALLY, I'm one person. I write my reviews, I attend shows, I donate my time, I perform. I live for my art. I'm doing what I can. And now I'm challenging everyone who reads this. There are shows going on EVERY weekend in Ohio. I guarantee you, EVERY weekend, Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays, somewhere in our state, someone is performing on a stage. Go. Support them. Laugh at them (even if they aren't funny). Cry (especially if they aren't funny). Love it. Hate it. Debate it. GO. Better our community by better our theatre community. And think about what you can do as an individual and we can do as a people, united by one goal.

Myrtle Beach Vacation, Part One

It is 3:35 am. I am completely numb to feelings and emotions right now as they do not exist in this ungodly hour, though if I were to pinpoint one that I probably would be feeling right now it would be unmitigated disdain for this terrible time. As I lay here, the rest of the household sleeps. I woke up early to shower and get ready because everyone one else said they would wake up around 4 am. I didn't feel like fighting for a shower, so I jumped the gun on this one. I hate long roadtrips where I sit in the back seat for nine hours, hating life. Knowing that is what is looming in the near future only adds to the resentment. I've never understood the concept of getting up so early to get on the road. I know it is to reach your destination at a decent hour, thus beginning your vacation and optimum relaxation time.... but seriously. I for one want to collapse on a bed when I get out of that despicable van. I have no desire to eat or sightsee. THAT can begin tomorrow. Whatever. I've learned not to argue. I've accepted my fate. And besides, if it makes the parents happy I'll be cool.
My next coherent thought won't be for hours as I will try the uncomfortable effort of sleeping in the godforsaken van. That will go over really well I'm sure. :o/
Why couldn't Myrtle Beach be closer???

The reasons why you are suffering (a poem)

Tired, past the twilight
you're sailing into the murky night.
It's going to be another shouting match
Another bloodbath.
You're going to claw for each other's eyes,
both being accused of lies.
Unrelenting, unwilling to let go
and sail into a world you don't know.
you fight against the swirl of emotion. 
Only one has any devotion,
and one is making ends meet to try and keep it right
but you're only going to end up in another fight.
Never ending circle could end by your hand
but you're too busy trying to be a friend.
You are trapped in that cage,
and you can't find your stage.
You belong to yourself
but your balls are on her shelf .
You pray for release
so you can do as you please 
but you can't find your way
so you begin to sway
and fall down,
dirt and ground,
making the same mistake,
always give and never take.
You may never learn
and she'll make you squirm
and crush you with regret when it's your turn.

Guess what I've got to plan.............

http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=AtGJ2PqNkMGAjcvWwYSzEvMjzKIX;_ylv=3?qid=20070130045420AApQq2f

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Dreams of you and I, someday....

Suddenly sleep has overcome

and I am drifting away

sailing down night's rocky shore

dreams of you and I, someday

Kiss me once

Love me twice

Hold me close

and never say goodbye

I wish it would fade into nothingness
sail into the deep
All of the creeping, dangerous
words that come with sleep
I almost don't want to wake up
so I won't have to face the light
Won't have to deal with the consequence 
of wanting to hold you so tight
Push past the thorns and the briars of
confusion and misery's rose
Making a break 
don't want to wake up
fearing the flood as it goes
When shall we ever be free
When shall we sit 'neath the stars
When shall we share our words in the open
revealing our bruises and scars
So long since I could even cry
so long since I've seen you smile
I hate to say the word, goodbye
It's been for too long a while
Concealing myself
My heart's on the shelf
My mind is  sheer poetry
My eyes are yours 
wanting tears and sore
You are all I can see
Suddenly sleep has overcome
and I am drifting away
sailing down night's rocky shore
dreams of you and I, someday
Kiss me once
Love me twice
Hold me close
and never say goodbye

RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!

RAINRAINRAINRAINRAINRAIN.... UGH! No more rain GOD! Please. Give it a rest. It sounds great and it's fine when I'm not in it. Unfortunately, half my life is spent in my car, DRIVING, so c'mon! Let's have a nice sunny day tomorrow, whadya say? Hmm? Sunny? Warm? Something optimal? Maybe even, dare I say, DRY? Just a thought...


I shed a tear in my indecent heartache.
I know it's too much to ask
to want our moments to last,
but I just can't resist...
I sit in my solitude
knowing you are not alone.
I breathe and worry...
I wonder if you think of me. 
The rain does nothing to console
but rather mimic the pounding of my heart.

VBS!!!!

Among everything else that is going on in my life, Josh and I were approached at church Sunday and asked to head up this summer's VBS. As in the church's VACATION BIBLE SCHOOL!!!!! After the initial freak out, I realized I actually have to sit down and figure out what exactly I want to do for this VBS. I'm so excited. Now I need to praypraypray and find the perfect theme.
PRAY!
http://ministry-to-children.com/vbs/
http://www.christianbook.com/vbs?kw=vbs&event=PPCSRC&p=1018818&cm_mmc=Google-_-Vbs-_-vbs-_-vbs&gclid=CIHr9o2E5KECFSQ65Qod1HLPKQ

Do you hurt like I do?

Do you hurt like I do?
Does the pain cause chaos in your mind,
and you toss and you turn at night?
Do you long for the dawn
yet wish to sleep the day away?
Does it hurt so you can't breathe?
You can't think, you can't see,
but your mind won't stop reeling 
and you cannot collect your thoughts.
Everything seems so fraught.
Do you hurt like I do?
You cannot be still, 
yet you have no will to move.
You cannot sing your problems away.
You wipe away tears,
but there's no hiding the tears that stain.
You lie in bed, you're at home,
but you feel so alone.
Can you breathe?
Can you feel, can you see?
Do you feel this agony?
Has driven you completely insane?
Can you feel your brain?
Do you hurt like I do?

Without you...

How many nights so bright
shall I wander through
without you?
How many days so grey
must I spend
until my heart starts breaking?
How long must I travel on?
How shall I go on?
Without you....
Without you...
I cannot see the end
I cannot find a friend
I cannot breath again
until I'm with you
I cannot wait
I cannot stand up straight
I cannot live another moment
without you....

Woes for the diva

What's the diva to do when she hangs up the crown?
Where does she go when she can't find her crowd?
Woes for the diva who cannot hold her head high...
Ode to the diva who's head is in the sky.
She cannot look in the mirror long enough to fix her makeup.
She doesn't recognize her face.
It's not the one she had before.
Who is that staring back?
No one knows.
She doesn't know.
She has forgotten how to spell out what she needs without another person's words.
She cannot love for long and she cannot love just one.
This diva surrounds herself with many different lives, different loves, different arms, different words.
The diva is a complicated, overrated, degraded shell of her former self.
Where has the diva gone?
No one knows.
They saw her last week, around the corner, down the street.
Or so they say.
They can't truly be sure if it was indeed her since she disappeared so quickly.
But it must've been her.
But why would a diva cry?
This diva has all emotion, but cannot convey how she feels.
The diva finds her way to the bottom of the bottles and other's heels.
This diva is out of touch with reality, running from its harsh beams.
She doesn't care what morals are or where you come from.
She'll treat you just the same, and put you out with others when she's through.  
She needs direction, she needs bright lighting.
She needs someone there to cue her, to dress her, to pursue her.
She needs her medicine, her addiction.
Woes for the diva who cannot hold her head high...
Ode to this diva who is only living out a lie.

Another time, another place

Another time, another place
Another song, another embrace
It's all too fresh
My soul's turmoil
I spiral downward as I lose control
I shove past the bottles and sink into withdrawal
Another time, another place
Another song, another embrace
You smile in the red light,
My late night tears,
All becoming a blur
Terrified you'd kiss me
Wishing that you would
Another time, another place
Another song, another embrace
I am truly alone in this madness
I have lost my drug, separated
I am losing myself in my mind and the eyes of others
Though I lost myself already in your words and smile

Me

 I'm Tahrea.
I am an Aries.
I am in love with one amazing guy...
I am a SERVER at the Tuscan Table.
I am a Ghost Hunter with BSPHI.
I am a Drama Queen.
I am the Musical Theatre Instructor for the Charmion Performing Arts Center.
I am obsessed with theatre.
-------
I love to talk.
I love to sing.
I love to act.
I love chinese food.
I love my friends.
I love going to the GroveCity Steak-N-Shake at 11 pm at night with my friends.
I love laughing. Loudly.
I love God.
I love live.
-----
I believe in God.
I believe in Prince Charming.
I believe in Fairy Tales.
I believe in Karma.
I believe in doing what is right, not what is easy.
--------
I have been out of America.
I have a sister and two  brothers.
I have big boobs.
I have an australian shepherd.
I have a great singing voice.
I have a fabulous personality.
I have many talents.
I have no idea what I'm doing.

My current frustration and opening night (Opening NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT. It's Opening NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!)

I hate Writer's Block. It sucks even more since life has given me tons of material lately, but my muse isn't giving me the clarity I need... This sucks majorly since I find writing poetry so therapeutic and healing. All I can do is look over poems I written in the past and just say "Yup, been there, done that." ARGH. It is so frustrating. I start writing something only to delete it, yelling at the screen because it didn't help conjure up exactly what I wanted it to say in the most eloquent and poignant way possible. I'd kill for a good metaphor right now........... The worst thing is knowing that inspiration could hit at any stupid moment like when I'm onstage in the middle of a show or during a busy lunch rush or when I'm driving. Any stupid moment when I can't grab a pencil and my poetry journal and just go to town. DOUBLEARGH.

In other news, No Exit opens tonight at 8 pm. I am really excited to see how an audience responds. Britt had an old friend come in and he seemed to really like it. Or he was the greatest actor in the history of EVER. We shall see...

A monologue from Company

Right after I got to college, a friend of mine who has a garden apartment gave me a cocoon for my dorm room. He collects things like that... caterpillars, insects, and stuff... It was attached to a twig, and he told me that one morning I'd wake up to a beautiful butterfly flying around my room when it hatched. He said that when they first come out, they're soaking wet and there's even a tiny little speck of blood in there -- isn't THAT fascinating -- but within an hour they dry off and begin to fly. Well, I told him I had a cat. I had a cat then. But he just said, "Put it somewhere where the cat can't get it!" which is impossible, but what can you do? So, I put it up on a ledge where the cat never went, and the next morning it was still there, at least so it seemed safe to leave it. Anyway, about a week later, very, very early this one morning, the guy calls me and says, "April, do you have a butterfly this morning?" So I put down the phone and managed to get up and look, and sure enough I saw a little wet spot, and a tiny speck of blood, and... no butterfly. And I thought, "Oh, dear God in heaven, the cat got it." I picked up the phone to tell the guy, and just then, suddenly, I spotted it underneath the dressing table. It was moving one wing. The cat had gotten it, but it was still alive. So I told the guy, and he got so upset and he said, "Oh, God, April, don't you see that that's a life? A living thing?" So I got dressed and took it to the park, and I put it on a rose. It was summer then, and it looked like it was going to be alright; I thought so, anyway. But that man... I felt so damaged by him -- awful -- that was just cruel. So I got home and called him back and said, "Listen, I'm a living thing too, you s***head!" I never saw him again.

My current insanity....

My life is non-stop. I no longer possess that which normal people refer to as "FREE TIME." I'm not even sure that's how it's spelled anymore. I somehow have become as busy as a.... a soccer mom. MINUS the soccer and mom part, multiply the busy  by two. I'm constantly on the go. If I'm not getting ready for play practice or a board meeting I'm going to church, worship rehearsal, or teaching class. Or I'm going to see someone else's show. OR I'm going to RTP to fill ticket orders. OR I'm memorizing lines. Or I'm at work. Or I'm driving. Or sleeping. Or getting showered and dressed, preparing to do any of the aforementioned activities/duties. And you know what... I love it. I love the stress. I love the go, go, go of my life. It can put a strain on having time to just hang at home and get housework out of the way, and time with my family can be sparse.  But I've been blessed with a family who is almost as busy as I am, so they get it completely. I've conditioned myself over the past six years to the point that I can't go too long without doing something. I sit and have nothing to do for very long; I go into withdrawal. lol. I'm sure it's no surprise that I enjoy the insanity. :o)

You bring me up
you bring me down
make me your cross
make me your crown
I never know which way to go
I'm never quite clear on where you are
You frustrate me
you drive me crazy
I'll try to leave but you always bring me back

Stuff and stuff.... (Too tired to come up with a cathy title....)

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH. I realized I haven't blogged since I got home from Georgia, two weeks ago. Coming back home was like hitting the ground running with no intentions of stopping. Life, just as I left it. I've since begun rehearsing with Columbus Civic Theatre, performing in No Exit. Wowzers. It's always fun to  work with a new theatre group. New people, new space, different perspectives. It's awesome. One of the great things is the degrees of separation in the theatre community. I am probably connected to everyone in the Central Ohio theatre community by... we'll say six degrees, just to be safe. Everyone knows everyone. :o)
 The great thing about this show is I'm learning more about myself and I'm exploring this amazing show everyone knew except me. It makes me wonder what other awesome shows are out there, lurking the dark and mysterious realms of all things theatrical, just waiting for me to come along.... hhhmmmmmmmmmmmm....

By now, everyone who reads this stuff I write probably knows about the cat incident. The cat Junia randomly brought home about a month, two months ago had a baby in the middle of my bed Saturday evening. When I should've been at RTP watching Junia's performance in the show, I was sitting in my bedroom, staring at my cat's.... girly parts, waiting to see if she'd pop out another one, and cleaning up what used to be a pretty decent fitted sheet. My bed, long story short, looked like a makeshift hospital on a battlefield. The kind where things are/were being amputated. Yeah. Even though it was just a cat and a kitten, I still say I should've recorded it and used the video in any conversation I may have with my kids about birth control and abstinence. I say "my kids" and I mean my theatre kids. All 1000 of them.

Georgia (and Florida), Part Eight

This is my last blog from Florida. In a few short hours I will be in the Sarasota Airport headed to Atlanta. My flight leaves at 6 AM, first class. Once I'm in Atlanta, I have a short layover and then I'm on my way to OHIO! My flight in Atlanta will land me in my grand home state around 10:30 am where I will be greeted by my loving Josh and his darling mother Rhonda.

Today's itinerary started us off with breakfast on the beach, a trip to Mixons, Red Barn, and then church service at their church, Bayside Community Church. AMAZING! After church, they took me to Siesta Beach to see and feel the powdery amazing-ness of the sand there. Powdery and amazing! Then We went to meet Scott and Gwenn Keefer, friends of Carol and Ray (Scott is also a '83 grad of TVHS), and we finished the evening with dinner at Mattison's. It is an awesome outside cafe finished off with a bar and live band. Tooooons of drunk old people dancing. I dragged Shawn over so we could partake of the drunkness, dancy awesomeness. As I was begrudgingly forced to leave by my cohorts, I kinda danced to the music around the fence that ran the perimeter of the patio and the lead singer, some older, Allman brother wannabe (it was a good band, don't get me wrong) hollered something at me in the mic, though I don't know what it was. I wasn't sure if I was the one he was attempting to communicate with during the song until he pointedly looked right at me. I laughed and told the others, "He just said something to me!" Then Ray noticed the guy continuing to watch me walk all the way around the fence. I turned around and saw that the guy's eyes were glued on me, lol, so I danced for a second and blew him a kiss. I was peeved I couldn't run back up there with the old folks and keep dancing like a fool, but it was time to go.

Now I must face the grueling task of finishing my packing, showering, and getting an hour's worth of sleeping. UGH. I also am not looking forward to leaving these wonderful people I've come to know. The folks I've met have asked me when/if I'm coming back. ARGH. I hate that I have to go, but I am glad to head home. I so wish Florida and Ohio were a bit closer. Distance is a terrible thing at times. Thank God for the internet.
I'm also kinda bummed I don't get to travel in one of those couch sized planes again. :o) That is an adventure I'd try again.

God, please keep me safe as I travel back home tomorrow. Keep my suitcase where it needs to be and get it home safely as well. Amen.

Georgia, Part Seven

We arrived safely in Bradenton, Florida yesterday afternoon. After stopping at their house, we went to meet Shawn for dinner. Then they drove me around to see the amazing view of the beach at night. It was amazing.
This morning Carol, Ray, and I went to the beach and lunch. I have a really nice sunburn now, but it's totally worth it. Now we're getting ready to go to dinner and see some Bradenton sites. I am so excited to get to know Shawn and Carol and too see different elements of their lives. Aaaand.... I'm in Florida. :o)

Georgia, Part Six

It has been an interesting couple of days. Yesterday we though Grandpa was gone. He was catatonic and breathing quite strangely in the afternoon and evening, after waking up and making phone calls early in the morning. Then, this morning he did the same thing. He woke up talking and eating only to sink in a deep sleep. However, he did wake up and was talking throughout the day. When Ray, Carol, and I arrived he was sleeping but did wake up after the nurse gave him a oxygen mask. He didn't say much until we started to leave. Then he asked Ray to talk without "all these witnesses around" (All two of us).  Outside of the room, Carol and I could clearly hear Grandpa and Ray began fighting over my presence in Grandpa's life. It was crazy. I was really peeved that it was still an issue after 15 years. I was also a little hurt. So when Ray left the room, I took the advice received from a cousin and went in the room by myself. I apologized and tried to explain my reasoning. I told him I loved him and Ethel very much and that's why I'm here. I also told him that I had been the one caring for Ethel for the past couple of days. He just sat and stared so I left. I felt more fulfilled than hurt or angry. I have waited so long to talk to that man and to explain myself and I've finally done. I have completely fulfilled my personal mission in coming down here. I met Grandpa and Ethel and even some family I've never met. I got to talk with Ethel and interact with her on a level I never saw coming. I was able to see Macon and different areas that have become major spots in Ray's life and my own. Just stepping foot in this house was amazing enough for me.
Now that Ethel has the care she needs and Grandpa is stable enough that he'll be coming home soon, Ray and Carol are taking me to Florida to see where they live. Bradenton is five hours away from here, so we'll leave in the morning and be there with enough time to spare for some awesome tomfoolery. I'm really excited to meet Shawn and to see a part of their lives together. Then, I'm flying out of Sarasota in the morning and will be in Ohio at 10:30 AM to be picked up by my darling Josh.
I hate the idea of Ethel but I don't want to be here anymore if it will bring some sort of distress to my grandfather. I am not looking forward to telling Ethel we're leaving. I love her so much and I hate to see her cry. I guess we'll just see what happens.

Georgia, Part Five

    Today  was.... ugh. Grandpa freaked out on Ray today when he and Carol went to the hospital. He was highly unpleasant and malevolent, spouting off things that were unnecessarily heated. Ray came back home crushed and very despondent. I didn't go because I knew waking up this morning I was to refrain from going to the hospital. I didn't know what, but I told Ray I did not want to go to the hospital. When they returned and Carol and Ray recounted the awful details, my answer was revealed. My relationship with my grandfather has been really rocky and bitter due to a very emotional letter I wrote to him when I was around eight. The details of the letter are hazy to me, but it was written during a time when I was not in contact with Ray and was very bitter towards him. Although my relationship with Ray has gotten exponentially better, grandpa's opinion of me has not. SO, it did not surprise me that my grandfather relayed to Ray his disdain for my being here.
 Meanwhile, I stayed home, caring for Ethel and got to know her a little bit better.
     My focus has morphed between Wednesday and today. At first, I wanted to come down and see my grandfather for the first time and let him know I loved him. I wanted to meet Ethel as well and say goodbye to both of the them. Over the past couple of days they have stabilized healthwise and give no indications of passing soon, like I was previous told. I'm glad that they are still here and I have a chance to get to know them, yet I'm sad that their suffering is prolonged. Since I sensed my grandfather's negative attitude towards my presence, I have focused my efforts towards caring for Ethel. This woman is sweet and loving, a sharp juxtaposition to grandpa's harsh disposition. She is grateful for my help and apologizes each time I have to take her to the bathroom. She also wishes grandpa would understand my mentality behind the aforementioned letter situation. I am not hurt by my grandfather's present actions and words as I know that he is a stubborn and bitter old man. As long as he is unwilling to open up, he is unreachable. I told him I love him and he knows I am down here. I have seen him and he has seen me. I have fulfilled a lifelong wish. Now my energy is focused on Ethel. I never thought I'd be able to care for an elderly person in the major degree that I have with her. I have bathed her, fed her, cleaned her after using the bathroom, and moved her from point to point. I'm physically exhausted but I feel so blessed for the experience and the ability to be a part of things, helping somehow.  I have completely fallen in love with her. It is going to be so hard to leave her when it comes time to do so.
    Tomorrow will bring new developments. Grandpa may be coming home. In order for that to happen, a lot of equipment and a hospital bed will have to be moved in before he is. If/when he comes home, I shall head back to Ohio. I hate the idea of leaving, but I do not wish to cause a fuss in this house and risk upsetting Ethel, although I know my leaving will make her quite sad. She is so wonderful.

God, please be with us. Keep our tempers down and our tolerance high. Help us make the right choices and keep us safe.
Amen

Georgia, Part Four

Yesterday's meeting between Grandpa and Ethel went over like a lead balloon. He seemed happy to see her at first and then flipped out. He yelled at Ray, asking him why he brought Ethel up there and that he said to never bring her to see him. She kept bringing it up all day after that. I felt so bad for her as it really hurt her. Each day I just love her more. She is a sweet woman who is just frail, quiet, and somewhat confused at times. I hate to see such a nice person like her so distraught and in pain. She has caused me to cry several times over the past couple of days just because she is so precious. I hate that I have to leave her in a week, and I just want relief and peace for her. Needless to say, nothing was decided between the two.
The hospital actually called Ray and told us that they thought our coming to see his father might be adding to his stress and ailments. They suggested that we stay away for the rest of the weekend. Now Ray is torn. Tomorrow is Monday, the beginning of a new week, but we don't know the status of grandpa's mental and physical health. AND, it's grandpa's 79th birthday tomorrow. It is sort of a bittersweet situation. More bone crushingly bitter than sweet.
To add to the aggravation, we believe Ethel's weekend aide quit on us. When we took her to the hospital, we had her aide go home since we didn't need her. She told us to call her when we got home. Ray did, but she didn't answer. Nor did she call back. Then, this morning, she didn't show up. I know it was Easter, but I think a phone call of some sort was in order. I'm kinda glad at the prospect of her being gone. Ethel didn't like her because she was rough and kinda lazy, and I didn't feel that she had a good spirit about her. I did witness firsthand her interactions with Ethel, and she was not a paced and gentle as she should have been with a woman in Ethel's condition. It angered me to see that go on, and, when she said Ethel wanted me to do her make-up, I jumped in to do the rest. I know this news, on top of everything else, will only anger grandpa more, so I doubt Ray will share it unless absolutely neccessary.
My prayers have gotten a bit complicated. On the one hand I am praying for peace and relief. On the other I pray for God's will to be done. I just want what's best for the couple. I wouldn't wish this sort of suffering on my worst enemy. I have heard Ethel across the hall, praying for God to help her. In her sleep, she has cried for "mommy" and "daddy" several times. Tonight is the most quiet she has been. I just feel for her so much and wish there was something beyond prayer that I could do. I just hate that the end is so hard for such wonderful people.
I wouldn't trade these days for anything though. I have never changed or bathed an adult. I've never cleaned them after they used the commode. I've never had to care for an elderly person before. It is a strange concept to me even though I have done the same with so many children. However, I've done it with Ethel because I care for her so much. It doesn't bother me like I thought it would. I haven't exactly enjoyed it, but I feel I have gained much from it. Each day I am more and more grateful for being here.

God, please have your hand upon this house and household, and upon that hospital room. Guide minds and hearts to you will. Help us each to gain patience and understanding as you know we sorely need both. I ask that you grant peace to Ethel and Grandpa.
Amen

Georgia, Part Three

Yesterday and today both found grandpa stressed out, again.
I'm glad I'm down here. I'm glad I've had the chance to be with everyone and help out with Ethel. It's frustrating at times but I am glad that I've been able to come down.
Tomorrow, we are taking Ethel to the hospital to talk privately with grandpa, as he wishes. I'm praying they are able to come to good conclusion that works for them and suits everyone, including the doctors. It really sucks that he and Ethel both are suffering and under stress. I've been praying and praying, but I guess I should focus on God's will happening rather than what I think should happen.
I just hope all goes well...

Georgia, Part Two

As the plane rose from Port Columbus, each light was a twinkling jewel in the landscape. They gave a comforting glow to the picture the small window created for me. The funny thing is as we descended into Atlantan it was lighter as the sun was rising and the lights of the city were bright and harsh. They almost intimidated me, as did the INSANE size of the Atlanta Airport. RIDICULOUS. I completely despise airports. Completely. Period. However, they got me here, and for that I am thankful. After getting the halfing plane with Carol, Ray picked us up and took us back to grandpa's house to drop off our luggage and see Ethel, grandpa's wife.
At the hospital I finally got to see my grandfather. I also got meet his brother David, and Whitney and Scott, David's kids. They were such wonderful people, full of the sense of humor that must be a prominant trait of the Tallent family. Although grandpa's health is diminishing, he was somewhat responsive and was joking with everyone else. I am so glad I'm here finally, but so sad that it took so long.
Tomorrow I shall return to the hospital with Ray and Carol. I hope tomorrow is a smooth day and neither Grandpa or Ethel suffer.
Please God.

Georgia, Part One

After a wonderful birthday, I have quite a week ahead of me. My biological father, Ray, called me yesterday, as he has for the past few weeks, to inform me of the status of his father's health. Little to my surprise, grandpa's health has deteriorated greatly and he has taken a turn for the worse. Ray then surprised me by asking me to come down to say goodbye. Come down... to Georgia. Macon, Georgia, to be specific. Since I was a child, traveling to see my grandfather has been one of my greatest wishes. Of course, my decision was simple. Only it wasn't. Going to Georgia meant I had to cancel my classes for this week, cancel rehearsal plans for the Easter program, actually missing the Easter program, and Rhonda's birthday celebration. After weighing my options, making phone calls, apologizing, and completely freaking out, my decision was made up. So now I sit in Port Columbus, Gate C56, waiting to board my flight. I had to wake up from an hour's worth of sleep around 2:45 am and get here about 4. My shaking due to nerves, stomach gurgling,  and lack of sleep have subsided slightly, though I'm not looking forward to the Atlanta airport as I have been told several times that it is enormous. My one relief is that Carol, Ray's darling wife, will be arriving a few minutes  before I will on her flight from Florida. Then, we shall wait for our 10:20 am flight to Macon where we will meet up with Ray.
Then, we venture into unknown circumstances. I don't know what this next week will hold for me, whether I shall be attending a funeral or not. My flight coming home has not yet been planned as our plans are unknown. I just pray the flights are smooth and I don't completely lose my mind in an airport.

Please God. Let this be a wonderful experience. Keep me safe.

Day five: I'm broken

I could not take it anymore! I had to go outside! I have been in this house for FIVE days! ME, who spends most of her life at work, theatre, classes, church, ELSEWHERE. ME, who uses home as a base to sleep, charge my phone, my laptop, and sometimes eat. ME, who uses this house as a place where I occasionally see those people I refer to as my family. And here I am, sitting on this couch or in bed, miserable, for FIVE DAYS! AUGH! I couldn't take it anymore. Ami kept walking from the back door to me. Then he climbed into the armchair and started gazing out, almost longingly. Then he came back to me. Then back to the door. Then back to me. THEN, we hear something outside. Dad, roughhousing with Aidenn. Well, that got Ami going. "SOMEONE is OUTSIDE and they are having a GOOD TIME and it's NOT ME!" Well, that's what I imagine he was saying.Meanwhile, I'm slowly going stir-crazy sitting here. So I turn MAGIC: The Magician's Secrets REVEALED 2, and get properly dressed. I put in my contacts for the first time in FIVE DAYS, which was an interesting struggle as the right one had sat in the container with no solution for FIVE DAYS. So I was greeted to a shriveled piece of plastic. Mmmmmmm... After finding my replacement lenses and getting dressed, I got the leash and we were ready to go.

Teddy decided he would join us after some persuasion. He's a grumpy old man of 10, after all. And soon He was leading the way down the path.

E

Everything is still very much... brown from the winter. But the sun and breeze are great indications that spring is very close, thank goodness...

I feel very fortunate to have such a great piece of the wildlife in my backyard. While we were trekking over the hill, I saw two deer sailing over the brush and into the woods, their white tails flicking with each leap.

A certain Amadeus would've dragged me like a ragdoll to catch up with them had he also spied them.

We did, however, find hoof prints in the soft earth, indicating recent activity.

And Aidenn found himself on the trail of an unfortunate rabbit, who darted pasted us only seconds before I caught this moment.

Thank goodness Teddy chose to lazily sniff through leaves and not give chase. 

After several minutes of walking around and listening to the distant yelps of Aidenn running amok after that poor rabbit, we decided to head back to the house. Once again, Teddy took it upon himself to lead the way. :o)

Day four of my imprisonment

I have reached the brink of insanity. I have sat in this house for four days now. I no longer find solace in my bedroom. Nay, it is but a tomb of disease, a sepulcher of sickness, enshrouded by used tissues and a snuggie. Slowly, the bed and walls have begun to mock me. Their entrapment reminding me of the health and freedom that exists outside their walls. They torment me so. When I shiver I reach for a blanket. But soon I am covered in beads of sweat. It is agony! My nose is no longer a nose but a red beacon of pain and trumpeting alarums. Even my own voice betrays me. I no longer carry the light effeminate notes of a 22 year woman, but those of a 45 year old man with a heavy cigarette addiction. My only companion, my laptop, has become my enemy. I loath its screen, I loath the places it takes me, yet I cannot stay away. I want to leave this ungodly house of madness but cannot step outside for fear of chill and more sickness. I must sit, stewing, simmering, festering in my aggravation. I long for sleep to bring the next day, praying it will bring health and an end to this horror.
Lord help my poor soul.

An Ode to the sick and ill at heart

A cough,
a sniffle,
a fear,
a pill,
a pillow,
 sleep.
A temperature,
 a sneeze,
a tissue,
a tissue,
a cough,
a glare,
a tissue,
a pill,
 a pillow,
sleep.
A temperature,
a cough,
a cough,
a coughing fit,
a sneeze,
 a sniffle,
a red nose,
a growl of frustration,
a cough,
a sneeze,
a tissue,
a tissue,
a pathetic moan,
two pills,
a pillow.
A cough,
an string of incoherent growls and moans,
a sneeze,
two tissues,
a pill,
a sneeze,
a tissue,
a coughing fit,
an sneeze,
a pill,
two pillows.

Such is the life of an actress.

For the past year, I had been so focused on Kidsummer that I gave little thought as to what was ahead in my theatrical quest once the musical was over. Now that I've closed the theatre doors on my production and everyone has moved on, I have realized that I have been forcibly placed into the lifestyle of the everyday American: Wake up, work, go home, menial household duties, bed. Lather, rinse, repeat. Luckily, Theatre Vault has kept me in the loop, allowing me to attend productions and revel in the company of other theatre folk. But that can only satisfy the soul for so long before that familiar pang starts back up, that overwhelming need to act, to perform. Fellow thespians know this feeling quite well, suffering through a sabbatical only to long for the stage and lights. In short, I NEED TO ACT! Aforementioned fellows also know that there is pride in directing but it is so much different than acting. It takes on a different meaning, a different affect on the individual. I love directing, and I hope to do it for years to come. Especially with all of the wonderful youngsters that I've been blessed with. I just can't wait to get another part. For anyone who has met me in real life, you know that I am a bit... dramatic at times. That drive has to be exercised through some outlet every once in a while or I go crazy. Thank God acting was invented.
 So now, the question remains: What do I do now??? Well, I have a few options, thankfully. I won't name names until I am 100% certain, there is one role that I'm excited about, and I think I may get. Hopefully. If that doesn't work out, I'll probably cry, but audition for another show and life will go on. Such is the life of an actress.  

A poem...

I saw your face again today
I had to look away
When I came back to see
you were no longer looking to me
I know you're elsewhere calling their name
I know I've lost all I could have gained
And there is no tomorrow
There is only sunset on what could have been
No more time, no chance to win
I wish I would have known when I broke your heart 
that you would one day break mine
I wish I could have told myself before it was too late
but then I just ran out of time
And there is no tomorrow
There is only sunset on what could have been
No more time, no chance to win
I must bow down graciously to whoever it may be
who's taken your love from me
I must smile and break away 
realizing you did not wait
And there is no tomorrow
There is only sunset on what could have been
No more time, no chance to win

Exhausted, but still looking for stuff to do....

I am so exhausted. I haven't had time to sit and breathe. I know part of me doesn't really want to, though my body has this thing where, after a while, it wants to sleep and it fights my will. To punish me, it decides to grab the next bout of sickness or lethargy and hold on for dear life, forcing me to stop. As mom has been sick since the day of grandpa's funeral, I know that may very well happen if I'm not careful. Ugh.
After the show, several if not all of my actors and parents asked me if I would be doing a summer show. Since there is such a demand for it, I announced to the board that I, indeed, would like very much to do a summer show. I am a glutton for punishment, I know. However, it is a wonderful experience to get to know all of the kids and to allow them to embrace and explore their talents. Plus, I gain experience as a director each time I am involved with a show. I love it and I love the children. Actually, I just fall in love with the families that come and are involved with each of my shows. They are all awesome and helpful people. 
So, after Kidsummer, I find myself with a dilemma... How am I going to top THAT? I have been presented with a few ideas. I would like to stay with the same theme of adaptations of Shakespeare, and have found a few different ones. Since they're 50 minutes, I think I'll do one of those for the summer show.
For next season's show, I think I might attempt another musical. Jane keeps bringing up Roar of the Greasepaint-Smell of the Crowd... It seems like a cool show, and I'm going to looking into it.

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How Great Thou Art

• Verse 1:

O Lord my God! When I in awesome wonder

Consider all the works Thy hands have made.

I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,

Thy power throughout the universe displayed.

Refrain:

Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee;

How great Thou art, how great Thou art!

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee:

How great Thou art, how great Thou art!

• Verse 2:

And when I think that God, His Son not sparing,

Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;

That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing,

He bled and died to take away my sin:

(Repeat Refrain.)

• Verse3:

When Christ shall come with shouts of acclamation

And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!

Then I shall bow in humble adoration,

And there proclaim, my God, how great Thou art!

(Repeat Refrain.)

Death is a cruel reality

I cannot express the pain that everyone feels when losing  a loved one. Everyone deals with it differently. As I stood in that hospital room surrounded by my aunt, uncles, and mother, along with most of their children and spouses, I felt mixed emotions. We all sat around my grandfather's body as it rested in his bed. We all cried at different intervals. I kept looking at my grandmother, who hadn't shed a tear. I know she will cry, and perhaps she already has. I just haven't seen it. I bawled. I couldn't help it. It is still a pain that I will have to cope with for some time. Grief is a terrible thing. I became more heart broken as my uncle Mike arrived with his family in tow. The three youngsters still have yet to grasp the harsh concept of death and loss, but my darling seven year old cousin Madison has recently become acquainted with it. Upon arrival, she was red faced and watery-eyed. My goal was to help her understand what would be happening this evening and what had happened to grandpa. It took her an hour to muster up the.... strength? Courage? I don't know what it was..... the... whatever to actually look at grandpa. The five year old, Grace, repeated her father's simplistic means of helping and said, "He just looks like he's sleeping, Madison." in her adorable lispy speech. I made several phone calls and received a multitude of texts messages over the course of the evening. We all did. I watched mom and uncle Rich both check their phones as much as I did. Man, Death is a cruel reality.
As I sit here now, alone with the exception of the sleeping form of my seven year old cousin stretched across my love seat, I relive that fresh pain of knowing my grandfather is gone and my grandmother has lost her husband and best friend. Part of me wishes I knew how she felt and what she was thinking. The other part of me wishes to never know, as it must be an emotion far worse than my own, which is terrible and heartbreaking as it is. Tomorrow, mom, Junia, and I will go over to my grandparents'-my grandmother's- and we shall begin the process of whatever it is one does during this time. I am almost terrified of what will happen over the next few days. I only know that I will say goodbye to my grandfather this week, and that is one awful conclusion. I wish everyone I know and everyone who reads this could have known John Dodrill and how wonderful he truly was. There will never be another person like him.
The viewing is Wednesday 2-4 and 6-8 at the Oliver-Cheek Funeral Home in Ashville. The Funeral is Thursday at 10 AM at the Village Chapel in Ashville. He will then be buried in Vinton County near his parents.

God bless you Grandpa.

A late night moment with Grandpa...

It's about 1:30 AM. I have been here since 10:30 PM and shall stay until about 9:30 AM. I'm sitting on a hospital bed parallel to my grandfather. He is perpetually moaning and twitching in his sleep. Each time the nurse comes in to check on him or give him more medication, I have to gently wake him. It sucks. His eyes are bleary and red and don't completely grasp all the information their gaze captures. I try to ignore the random beeps and coughs that echo down the hall. I've become well aware of the constant ticking clock on the wall above me, indicating each second that goes by. I watch as my grandfather's hands, hands that have always been hard working and loving, now spell and sign out words in hallucinated conversations. Throughout his erratic movements he manages to slump against the plastic rail of the bed. I get up and gently move his head, adjusting his pillow so he has more cushion and a bit more comfort. He wakes up and smiles. I repeatedly ask him if he wants me to move the bed for more comfort. After a few failed attempts he grasps my message and nods. He finds a comfortable position and smiles, holds my hand, and doses back off into his drug induced unknown, leaving me to hold back the tears welling in my eyes. It's so hard to watch one of  the strongest men of my life thrashing under the rule of medication and physical pain.
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How much longer does he have, God? How much longer?

Another small realization of God's work in my life..........................

One scripture that gets me the most is "Be still and know I am God." UGH! To me, that means "Chill out and know that I'm here; I'll take care of it." That speaks volumes to me, being impatient and always on the run. Lately, I've had so much crap piling on top of me that I had forgotten to stop and give it to God. In that moment moment when I finally realized the err of my ways, I stopped and shoved it off. I continued to try and pray, communicating with Him and allowing him to work through my crap for me. But, being stubborn, I kept going back to my issues, freaking out and stressing out and He kept telling me to just chill. "But what about my car? What about the costumes, rehearsals, tech, lighting, props and the programs for the play? What about Grandpa? What about my job?" SOOO many questions!!! He just keeps saying "BE STILL. I am here." So I've been trying to breeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaathe and remember He never gives me more than I can handle. Isn't that interesting? He never gives us more than we can handle. That means whatever we're going through, we are guaranteed able to get through it as long as we trust in Him. The really funny thing is when I discover how he helps me, how he answers my prayers. It's never what is expected. And why not? He's GOD. He's a tricksey one, lol.
One thing that has really inspired me is the journey some really great people have been going through. I have had the pleasure and joy of knowing this wonderful family through RTP, the Warners. They and their kids have been involved with the past several children's shows and I've have gotten to know them and just love them. Over the past two years, Mark and Kris have been working through the adoption system in attempts to adopt a baby. At first their journey led them to Vietnam, and now to Taiwan, where they are so close to getting their baby boy, Samuel Isaac Chia-Shun. Their stories of this tedious and crazy journey are amazing and truly exhibit how God works in people's lives. I think everyone should check out their blog which a chronicle of each step they have taken. I'm so happy that they are going to get little Samuel in the beginning of March, and I cannot wait to finally meet this baby that has already touched so many hearts and lives, including mine. Mark and Kris' story is truly one of trusting in God and believing that He will deliver, especially in times when they didn't know where they were going to get money or answers.
http://warneradoption.blogspot.com/
I was interested to see what Samuel's Taiwanese name, Chia-Shun meant, so I looked it up. "Chia" means One who is born in the daylight or "surrounded by light". WOW. "Shun" means Speed; smooth, agreeable. Then I looked at Samuel and Isaac. "Samuel" means God heard, or asked of God; requested of God. "Isaac" means (This my favorite) Laughter or He will laugh. 
Thank you God for blessing me with so much, and continuing to do so. Thank you for blessing me with friends who uplift when I feel down, and giving me the opportunity to do so in return. Thank you for all you've done with these situations. You know the needs and you know the perfect timing for all. Thank you. Please keep me and all who read this safe this week, and continue to reveal yourself to us as only you know how. Touch those who need to know you are there and use us to touch each other. 
Amen.