Clark

     As I sat in the ER with my mom, frustrated by the amount of time passing and knowing she was in pain. Acute Appendicitis, diagnosed after getting a C-Scan at DRA Imaging. "I have the CD", I offered, but no one wanted to see it. 

     Meanwhile, my son called my husband who just left us to get some food and something to drink. Instead of getting pizza as I requested, he had to rush home. Clark was throwing up and having a seizure. 

     As I waited for the surgeon to bring my mom into the operating room, Peter called. I knew why. I said, "Do what you think best." without his asking me. "It's a decision we have to make." "You make it." as I half listened to the Dr. 

     Then I texted Peter, "Give my boy a hug for me. Tell him good bye." 

     Tonight, I lost my best bud. We had a lot more time together than we ever expected. 

     I know I had to be with mom so that I wasn't there to watch Clark die. I know there is always someone looking out for me. I am truly blessed. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. 

(More to come but I had to share this for now. BTW - Mom's operation went smoothly. Let's hope for a full recovery with no complications. )

Lost and Found

One day, out of the blue, my daughter got a text from her boyfriend. He had just found two dogs wandering in the middle of nowhere. He pulled over, called them and they eagerly came to him and willingly got into his truck.

They were abandoned by their owners. The Catskill dog warden said there was a history of the family ditching these two dogs. This time, she wouldn't return them. Instead she would put them up for adoption at the animal shelter.

We wanted them. Abandoned dogs that were sweet enough to come when you called them. They were older and the shelter was relieved that anyone would want them. Elderly dogs were not what people were looking to adopt

As it turned out, each of us, Peter, Macallan, Markham and I would go on three different occasions to check out the dogs. They were so sweet. Well, in reality, Lewis (as we would come to name him) was very attentive and happy and couldn't be more handsome. His brother, Clark, not so much. Clark was only fixated on Lewis. He did not make a very positive impression on us. But we all wanted Lewis, so "Yes", we said to the shelter, "We'll take them both."

Unfortunately, Lewis wouldn't survive. He was 15 or older, in poor health, uncared for and extremely thin, we were told. Clark, though was all set. OK, we all agreed we'd take him. But I wondered if he'd ever interact with us.

Well, soon after bringing him home, he had attacehd himself to me. He would look for me, whining from room to room if I went out. He'd rouse himself from his deep sleep when I came home. He needed to be right next to me at all times. I loved it. And loved him.

I felt so responsible for him that I'd try to take him everywhere I went. Co-dependency was a real issue here, something I'd never really experienced before. I don't know who missed whom more?

My sister came to visit and met our new family member. She looked at him and then at me and reminded me of a dog I used to draw when I was little. The image hit me like a slap in the face. Yes, that's right. I knew this dog and drew this dog over and over and over again.

When I was a little girl, I used to doodle a lot. I couldn't really draw and had no artistic ability (still don't), but I'd draw this one dog over and over and over again.

Recently, I found a journal from when I was in 5th grade. A basset-hound-kinda-dog that filled my imagination and filled the pages in my daily diary. I remember thinking he would be my best friend,  that he only had eyes for me, big, sad, lonely, loving eyes only for me.

I have no recollection of where the bank came from but I also had a huge plastic basset hound bank with the same expression.

Could it be that my long lost memories of simpler, happier, impressionable, and hopeful times had come alive? Did this mean that my life is fulfilled? Does it show that instead of feeling lost and abandoned (an issue I've had since my parents left us in the Philippines for a year when I was 4), I am found?

It did not escape me, the irony of "finding" and "rescuing" a dog, only to realize I am the one that was lost and now found.

I'm still exploring the message. I'm not sure what the takeaway is. But I know that it makes me feel safe, secure, and loved. Every day, I get reminders, signs, symbols and guides that help me find the direction "home".

Thank YOU, the royal YOU for always looking out for me. I'm not religious, so YOU is not a particular god, but a collection of energy that enfolds me. Thank YOU for making me feel that I'm worth looking after. And thank YOU for showing me moment by moment how fulfilling life can be.

In honor of #NationalDogDay #BassetHound love #childhood security blanket #LostandFound #Petsareheaven #guidance #signs #spiritualawakening #inspiration #HudsonValley home #Abandonment

https://www.facebook.com/ClarkWithoutLewis/photos/pb.735315543190253.-2207520000.1440600827./742476702474137/?type=3&theater

Cosmo article

It's not every day you appear in Cosmo. . .

30 years later and more in love than ever.

http://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/news/a45153/i-married-my-summer-fling/

Looking Forward to Buying Day

Marea during Buying Day in Ghanzi (Circ - 2003)

I have been emersed in the new project which will be announced on Thursday, August 6. It's been announced, talked about, planned, plotted and presented in various forms and stages, but none of them seems real...yet.

I have stood in the actual building and could easily envision myself there. Feel the presence of the other members. See the light bouncing off the canvases, hear the chatter, smell the coffee roasting from the floor below. It'll be a joyful space.

I fantasize about the established artists coming in at all hours of the day and night, when inspiration moves them. I picture the young mentees, eager to get to work on the new sewing project, anxious to finish the 100 earrings in time for the deadline, the glee when given a check in payment for doing something they love.

I want to surround myself in this every day.

When we lived in Botswana and I worked as a consultant at Ghanzi Craft. I looked forward to being in the office. The coolness of the quiet before the day began. The firing up of the computers, flicking on the lights, and slowly and steadily, the staff filtering into the space. Someone was sweeping the yard. Someone was using nail clippers to begin to make ostrich eggshell beads. Someone was finishing off a strand, scraping the polishing stone over the row of unevenly stacked eggshell that would soon be called beads. I loved the feeling of potential. I loved being surrounded by purpose. I loved being part of the flow of creativity.

I have missed that.

Almost nine years ago, we were living in Ghanzi and today would have been "Buying Day". That's when the San Bushmen knew they could sell their crafts for cash. They lined up outside of the store, catching up with this one, spotting that one, gossiping about her, ignoring him. It was a day of excitement and high energy. At least it would start that way.

It was good to get there early because you were sure to sell something. The ones at the end of the line, it didn't matter if they were the best at their craft, if the nonprofit ran out of funds, you were out of luck. The first few were always the lucky ones. If their bracelets were half decent, they would be able to sell them. The staff were still full of themselves, still looking forward to the day and generous. By lunch time, you didn't know how they would be. If they needed their afternoon nap, if they were too hungry for lunch to concentrate, if the ones in front of you were not nice or didn't make the jewelry properly, or Becky realized no one made the copper bracelets that was ordered by the store in Capetown, then you were out of luck, my friend. Doesn't matter how good a beader you are. You were going to get scolded, money shorted, get told to leave and not come back.

Buying day was my favorite day.

And I am going to have them again.

This center, this Centre for Women's Work will have days where artisans bring items they've made and we have marketed. We will wholesale the products, distribute the jewelry, bring income to the City of Poughkeepsie. Ghanzi was a small town of 1500 people, whereas Poughkeepsie has 50,000, but both are remote in their own ways. And both have a population looking for employment/income.