The Bottom Line

Mitt Romney wants
to force me to have children, regardless of what their quality of life would be.
Thus, Mitt Romney believes only in having sex for conceiving children.
Which is a travesty all on it's own.
Mitt Romney lies to people like my forever-Republican grandfather to vote against his own interests,
like making Medicare a voucher program
to save the government money and instead putting that on my grandparents shoulders who put in all their life.
He wants small government only to allow corporations to run rampant
and keep the rich, richer and the poor, poorer.
The wealthy don't make jobs,
it didn't work in the 80's, it didn't work in the 2000's and it WON'T WORK NOW.
He wants to pretend that he knows God and his wishes.
Which I believe is not only blasphemy,
but could he be any further away?
Jesus was a healer and a giver. He wouldn't want people to die of preventable/treatable illnesses because they can't afford otherwise.
Mitt Romney doesn't give two shits about 
the homeless, cause it's totally their fault. Not because they're disabled or alone and helpless. No, course not.
immigrants. Stealin' our women, takin' our jobs.
the environment. Too costly for business. Maybe he can buy us a new planet with all the millions his company WON'T give in raises to the middle class.
education. Keep people uneducated and they aren't smart enough to know what's best for them.

How can you look people in the eye and say you're the people's choice, when you are simply using them for your own gains? How does he sleep at night?

I can't fathom living in a nation where I am ashamed by the president. And I REALLY don't want to move! Sigh. Let's hope people are smart enough to see past the Tea Party. 0.0

4 Hour Record

Spoke with my birth mom in the phone today. It was an all time shortest record: Under four hours. Sometimes I avoid calling (well most of the time) because who has five hours to talk on the phone every week? Also, we kind of talk about the same things over and over (both over time and during the same conversation). It's hard because she is so sweet and means so well, but keeping up with the crazy takes a lot of effort. And again, it's sweet, well-intended crazy, but still crazy.

However, today I've noticed a change. It's the first time we talked since Abby passed away and I had my enlightenment about people and my attitude. I noticed I was much better able to detach from the emotional strain of the conversation and having to keep up appearances so to speak (I lack a better explanation) and was able to really hear and understand what was going in behind the words.

When she says crazy or unlikely things, I see that she is a dreamer, trying to make that a reality in the only way available to her in this moment. Being a dreamer is probably the only reason she survived her childhood at all, even if slightly off.

I'm sure I'm describing her completely in accurately, but its just difficult for anyone to understand until they've seen it!

I explained about Chris' birthday and she was very understanding, even if I may have heard a slight tinge of disappointment. Very possibly from my paranoid imagination. All in all, a pretty successful conversation. 

Towards the end, we discovered that we both thought of possibly starting writing letters since its so difficult to reach one another on the phone (my fault). I thought that was funny. I think that will be nice. Plus, how fun it is a few years down the line to look back at old letters??

Im happy with my internal attitude progress, but to continue enrichment I really ought to start meditating. Which I've been meaning to do for years now, but there is no time like the present!

Last Sunday,

August 5th
was my Dad's birthday.
And the day we lost our family dog.
I'm so sorry that it had to happen that way.
She had a stroke in the morning and was completely unable to see or hear, her eyes kept darting back and forth, she was extremely dizzy and off balance. She couldn't walk or shift herself. Her sense of smell and touch was all that was left. And her spirit.
She had such a beautiful heart. She was part chow and very, very independent. Talk about a dog with an agenda! She would spend all day following my dad around and all night laying around with my mother (who is a Night Owl.)
Her presence filled that home. She had so much love for all of us. Our companion and protector through the years.
We had have so much love for her and always will.
I went with my Dad after we all cuddled for a bit and said good-bye. That was by far the hardest thing I ever had to do. He carried her in and I tried not to completely bawl knowing this would be the last place we ever got to take her.
The nurse said that it was treatable, as in she could live, but the damage was done to her body. What is a life for an independent dog who is completely unable to do anything alone? It's not a life.
I signed the document with the nurse, giving permission, and my Dad stayed with her and had a special moment alone to say good-bye and give his love.
They took her back to shave her leg and ten minutes later I saw the face I simply cannot get out of my mind. You could tell the instant she smelled us and her blank eyes lit up. It broke my heart. They're devotion and love until the very end breaks my heart. The doctor came in and we clutched and soothed her until after momentary struggle she was gone.
I bawled.
She was limp.
And then we had to leave her there. The hardest part.
Not bringing her home. I cry now, thinking about it, but getting my thoughts out does feel better. A release.
I've never seen my family so sad and I have never felt so sad. I wish I could take it all away. I wish she could be here with us another fifteen years.
I don't know how long it will take the vision of her recognition of us coming into the room she will never leave to abate. But, God, Abby I am so sorry I couldn't give you a miracle.
I miss you so much.

We did the right thing.
And I know that. And I'm glad we did.
She never had a sick day in her whole life, since she found us at my grandparent's lakehouse in the Spring of 1999. Emaciated, dirty and scared. She found us and wanted to be mine and Colin's friend. And was she the best friend we ever got.

Her last healthy night on Earth was spent eating cheetos on the couch with my mom. I know she couldn't have asked for a better last night. And I am so very grateful for that.

She was at least 15 years old. She lived a long, healthy, happy life. What more could we have asked for??

We loved her and she loved us. Every. Single. Day.

I do not believe in Heaven, though I wish I did, and in my way of coping, I promise to make other lives better because of her. People and animals alike her contribution to my life has inspired me to make a contribution to others.

Abby, I miss you. I love you. I hope you weren't afraid and I hope you know how much we love you and that we will never forget you. Rest in peace, baby.

August 5th, 2012

Dear Abby baby,
I love you so much. I will miss you so much.
These both seem like the biggest understatements of the year. I wish I could see your sweet, happy face again and bring you back. But I can't.
I want to hug you.
Wrap my arms around your thick fur.
The way you seemed to always be smiling with your adorable black tongue. Your hair shedding everywhere. My heart is already empty without you here.
I can't believe your gone.
I want you back so badly. Healthy, happy, alive.
Remembering the joy on your face when they wheeled you into the room you would never leave, just because you could smell us, breaks my heart. What will we all do without you?
You will never be replaced.
You will never be forgotten.
I wished I believed in Heaven.
You will always, always be in my heart. I promise to keep your spirit in there.