Growth Through Challenge

Yesterday was a very bad day.

The weather was about to move in, and I'd had a tough week at work. We decided to go out early in the afternoon--I took a break from work--to get a few things from the store and visit the post office box. While I was in the store, Thelma called her mother, who had been clued in (with Thelma's permission) about our relationship status but mostly about accepting her daughter. We've tried to be respectful and keep it quiet, but more than once we've had words over the fact that I want to live my life being "out" to the important people in our lives, while she wanted to keep it quiet to keep "all hell from breaking loose."

You see, she was "out" for most of her life, and it always brought hellfire down on her head. Only her father seemed to accept her, and as you know, he was killed at his store in 2000. After that, she crumbled and caved in to the pressure being brought to bear on her. She married a man in 2001, less than a year after her father died. Prior to his death, she had dated a few men to please her family, but it never felt right to her. She remembers having always been gay.

I, on the other hand, was so afraid of my father (who was strung out on morphine when I met Thelma...it was prescription, injectable morphine because he had cancer - but he became an addict and had to go get clean at the VA hospital), that I stayed in the closet. I had girlfriends throughout elementary school, but when I got to Jr/Sr high school, I began to see how "those" girls were treated. I was terrified, and I kept my eyes down in the locker room. I hid my feelings and dated VERY few boys in high school. The ones I dated were usually guys I either (a) knew were gay or (b) seemed safe. I ended up leaving town when I was 17 to go finish high school in Texas. Thelma never saw me again until May 16, 2009. As you know, I never forgot her.

So when I got back in the car and heard her mother, on speakerphone, saying, "And you cannot bring Louise into this house. My house is sacred, and I won't have you lying around with some woman here..." and I saw Thelma just sitting there, listening, letting her mom have her turn, I freaked out. I got out of the car in the pouring rain and pulled my hood up. I didn't know where I was going, but I couldn't stay there. I left my purse, my phone, everything, and started walking. By the time I got to the post office, I was drenched. I had walked through ankle-deep water and crossed streets without paying any mind to the cars. I went into the building and waited. I knew she would come.

When she pulled up to the curb, I went and got the keys. I was angry. I got the mail and the package. Came back to the car and got in. She was saying things to her mother like, "Do you realize people have been murdered and have committed suicide because of this so-called 'lifestyle'? Do you really think I would choose this for myself? To be harassed, punished, and abused?"

It was just too much for me. I said some things I regret. Thelma got angry and threw the phone down, disconnecting her mother. We argued. We cried. She tried to jump out of the car at one point, while we were on the way home.

It was a bad day.

She is hurt that her mother has rejected her and has given her an ultimatum: either you go straight or you don't have me.

We've been un-invited for Christmas.

I'm hurt, too. I feel like yesterday's Caesar salad, left out on a counter to rot. I feel unwanted and unloved. My mother died in 2006, and she died knowing EXACTLY who I am. She loved me. She was a Christian, too, and she loved me unconditionally. This is exactly why I can't understand when a parent rejects the child because of sexual orientation. I lost my daughter this year. She was bisexual, but I didn't give a rat's patootie, because she was my daughter. This is hard for me to comprehend, Thelma's mother rejecting her and saying things such as, "I'll never set foot in your house again."

And then I compounded it by showing my butt and being a pig about the whole thing instead of being more supportive. I was just shocked and hurt. I was injured, but no one was or is more injured than Thelma in all of this. She is missing her mother. She is wishing her dad was alive again so that she could feel someone would care.

I care, honey.

I care, and we'll get through this together, just like we always do. I wish it were easier, but I guess God wants us to grow through all these trials. He is carrying us.

Love, L

Thelma's Response:

Well I haven't heard a word from my mama today.

I sent her emails on how I feel. I won't call her as my aunt told me to just let things lie...stew with her. I am so sad because I am used to talking to my mom every day. But I don't want any more abuse or ridicule. I just can't take it anymore in my life.

I do hope that she will read the emails that I sent her from Soulforce.org, and Mel White. I love her. She IS my mother, after all. I miss her. I just wish that she could accept me for who I am. Her older sisters do? Why not my own mother? I am heart broken and I am sure that she feels she is too.

Let's face it, I'm not the perfect daughter. But I am a good person and try to do good things. I don't flaunt myself in public. Never have. I don't believe that I am a bad influence on her grandchildren or great grandchildren. I am not a pervert. I have never harmed a child. Never will. Those children are and will be exposed to all kinds of people in this world...God's PEOPLE!!!! They cannot shelter them forever from the outside world or differences. She said that she didn't want her grandkids to think it was acceptable to be gay, and that I was NOT welcome in her home with Louise. Those kids are growing up in this world with seeing all kinds of love of every kind.

Who is the JUDGE? I believe that my GOD loves me and He will comfort me through all of these challenging times. I am learning from this..so that I may someday be able to help another person going through this unacceptance issue. I am glad that I have come completely out to my mother, because it has been very unhealthy for me to hold this all in for so long. So many years of my life I felt ashamed of being me.

I love Louise and I will NEVER be ashamed of that...EVER!

Love and Fear

This is the most amazing love I could ever have imagined, this romance between Thelma and I. My heart is full and overflowing.

What I don't understand is why there are so many people in this country (and in all fairness, around the world) who would say that our love is wrong. Whereas heterosexual people, in most circumstances, take for granted their rights and protection as a couple, we must think about things like "would that person understand?", "is that place safe?", and so on. Why does the world have to be this way?

I want to hold her hand in public. I want to lean over and kiss her at dinner. I want to go to church with her.

The last one is what I miss the most. Yes, we could drive to one of the big cities (two hours in any direction), but why should we have to? Yes, we are in the buckle of the Bible belt, but we are Christians! Why shouldn't we be able to go to our church of choice, worship as "straight" people do, and get our spiritual food for the week without having to make such a trek? Thelma is out of commission right now because of the hip injury and will be going to physical therapy three times a week, so going two hours each way to church isn't even an option.

Today a family member said that homosexuality is the only thing the Bible says is an "abomination" against God. Not so. Thelma has been doing a little research and is finding quite a bit of Biblical scripture to refute that. But I'm too exhausted from work and stress to expand on that right now. Instead, I'll refer you to Soulforce.org and any of the books by Mel White (especially "Stranger at the Gate: To Be Gay and Christian in America"). Educate yourself, though I suspect our readers don't need to be educated all that much. If you want to know more about taking on the religious wrong, as I call them, read Mel White's material. He follows the principles of Martin Luther King, Jr., and is fighting the good fight every day.

It breaks my heart when anyone calls what we have together an abomination. I love Thelma. She loves me. Our souls are enmeshed and have been since we met as kids. I want to marry her and have the same rights and recognition (and protection) as any "straight" couple. What the hell is everyone so afraid of? We are who we are, and we love who we love. We aren't hurting anyone.

But as Emerson said, “Do not waste yourself in rejection; do not bark against the bad, but chant the beauty of the good.”

(found this on the writers' blog for the Grey's Anatomy writers...great blog, if you like the show)

Peace - L

Maybe the Holidays Aren't So Bad

[Image credit]















We've been busy girls at the Girly Ranch. This past weekend, we moved past the single-candle-in-the-window phase to an almost full-blown Christmas decorating party!

I had moved my few boxes of Christmas decorations up to the main level a week earlier, but Thelma wasn't quite ready to face the task or the notion of Christmas just yet. She misses her father during the holidays, and I'm dealing with the first holiday season after losing my daughter. It was waterworks all around, let me tell you.

But after spending much of Saturday in bed (not sick) or piddling about the house and barn, we found ourselves with time on our hands Sunday. I decided to begin to decorate. I took out my Charlie Brown Christmas tree, which is a 4' pre-lit tree, and my few decorations--mostly blue and gold, with white lights. I felt bad, because Thelma didn't want to bring out her decorations, as she felt I needed to be with my things more. My little tree was too small for all her ornaments. My mood dipped, and suddenly my tiny spark of Christmas cheer was almost out. I did what I do often since my daughter died - I lay down in the bed and cried for awhile. Though Thelma tried to cheer me up, I was suddenly exhausted.

A few hours and a nap later, I came out to find her buzzing around, putting a few of her things out and finding places to hang lights! Before we knew it, the place was sparkling with bright colors, folk art pieces, and Christmas spirit. My tears were dried, and the mark of us both was all over the house--her reindeer and snowmen, my tree, her towels, my towels, her bows, my 4' star... It was radiant. Though we are both missing pieces of ourselves - our loved ones - we realize that this is our first Christmas together. We want to make it special.

Shopping has been difficult, because we are always together ('cause we want to be, of course!). I've done almost all of my shopping online, which is how I normally do it anyway. She has done some shopping online, but some of it she did with a separate cart at Walmart tonight. That was a challenge, I'm sure!

The jaunt through the megastore was a challenge for me, too. Right now I'm on a cane with an ankle splint on because of a fall down the last three steps down the stairs from the loft. I'm okay - just sprained - but it gave us a scare. It's the second fall on stairs I've had since we moved in here last summer, but now we know I have MS. I need to be much more aware of each step I take, and I need to hold the handrail. It's difficult to relearn how to do things like walking up and down stairs!

Thelma had an EMG on both legs and her appointment with the neurosurgeon on Monday, and she has a couple of options for what's wrong with her hip (piriformis syndrome). She can have same-day surgery to cut the tendon to the piriformis muscle, which should alleviate most of the burning pain she has in the hip almost immediately, followed by physical therapy, or she could have physical therapy to see what happens**. This pain syndrome is caused by a permanent spasm in the piriformis muscle, which is deep in the pelvis. The pain has stopped so much of her activity, because on the days it hits her the hardest, even sitting down is difficult. Walking around a place like Walmart, with its hard floors, is grueling for her.

What to do, what to do? With me gimping around, she's worried about having surgery that would lay her up for awhile. She doesn't feel I could handle the barn detail every day plus other chores that have to be done. We could have some help come in, but then that means dealing with an extra person in the house. We're still in the selfish phase of our relationship, when we want to be able to grab onto each other in any room in the house, kiss at the barn, make love in the middle of the day. (Honestly, I hope we never outgrow this phase!) I think she's going to try physical therapy first to see if it helps, plus she's getting a deep tissue massage on her birthday (next Tuesday), as part two of her gift. (Part one was a trip to the salon!)

Whatever we do, though, we will get through it together. It's been a wild ride so far, and we often wonder exactly what God has in store for us. He must know how strong we both are, and He is using all these trials to strengthen us as a couple. I feel it.

I promise to write more later. We've had other things going on - such as her brother's illness. He was diagnosed with bladder cancer, but the surgeon got it all out. He has secondary-progressive MS and has had many challenges, so would you all please include him in your prayers? God will know who you're talking about.

Peace and happy holiday prep! -L

**Another treatment possibility is an injection of Botox in the muscle, followed by physical therapy, but there are a couple of problems with that: (1) insurance will not pay for the Botox medication (several hundred dollars), just the doctor's services and (2) we're not reading that people have gotten really good results from that route. But she would never have a wrinkle on her butt!

A-maze-ing

This has been a strange year. I would never have seen it coming, not for all the clues in the world.

You can probably guess that it is difficult going into this holiday season without my daughter, but there are so many other things to deal with as well. My son is going to the doctor on Monday to have his blood pressure checked again. It was pretty high today, so I spent some time talking to him about his diet, exercising, etc. I know that the root of it is this: his sister died. She was his best friend, and she's gone. They talked about everything, and she's gone. It's the holidays, and she's gone.

He's depressed but doesn't want to take medications. He needs to lose some weight (don't we all?) and is "not motivated" to go to the gym that he joined a few months back. He has a sedentary job (and stressful, too - doing credit card collections calls) and is taking classes online to finish his degree in computer science. PLUS, he's taking care of the house and 5 animals (a dog and 4 cats), since his dad is traveling a good bit of the time.

I'm worried about him, yes, but he is a grown man now. This requires me to pull back and not jump into the kind of codependent relationship I had with my daughter. I need to let him handle his life while still staying involved enough to let him know I care. He is dealing with the same crushing sadness that his dad and I are dealing with, but he finds himself now an only child. And I am far away. Communication between us takes place daily by phone, text, email, and chat. He has been to see Thelma and I twice since I left. In fact, we celebrated the Thanksgiving holiday early with him and his friend Travis. He is already planning his next visit down in January - this time with a girl friend of his (notice the distinction). He likes her, but she smokes. She seems to like him, too, and she's taking him hiking tomorrow - a very good thing! We'll see what plays out there.

That is all just the latest in what has come to be normal for us.

At the ranch, we've had visitors nearly every month, so we've been busy and a tad bit stressed out from time to time. Okay, sometimes we're really stressed out, at least I am.

I can explain it this way--have you ever had one of those days in which nothing seems to go right? When everything you say or do comes out wrong? When all of your best intentions fall flat? On those days, you just want to give up, right? You just want to throw your hands up in the air and then go back to bed. Except when it's your whole life that is going that way, you can't just go back to bed and solve anything.

If only one bad thing had happened this year, then maybe I could keep my equilibrium, but I've had

• the decision to leave my marriage (January) immediately following two months of battle with my daughter to try to get her into a recovery program for her drinking
  
• finding the long lost love of my life (late March/early April)
  
• the loss of my daughter in April after she'd been sober for 3 months (accidental death)
• a move to another part of the country in May which led to a brief battle with the ex (we've since worked things out so that we're on friendly terms again - if for nothing else but for the sake of our son, who was drained by the whole ordeal)
• a trip back to my former home in June that was part of the whole battle with the ex
• a visit with and falling out with my eldest sister in September
• a visit with Thelma's family and my youngest sister in October, which went well except for her brother (who has secondary-progressive MS as was on leave from the nursing home) getting sick and ending up spending most of his trip in the hospital (thank God he's alright but is still on antibiotics at last report)
• and a visit with my son last weekend in which his best friend exhibited the same signs of alcoholism as did my late daughter (as if I needed that reminder of how things went at home last holiday season!)

Now, I don't want you to get the idea that life is all bad, but I wanted to put it in perspective for a moment. Just re-read and digest that. Now...add to it:

1. Thelma seemed to hurt herself in late September. We thought it was something quite temporary that resulted in a swollen upper thigh and bad pain. Two ERs and a trip to Atlanta later, she is still waiting for a final diagnosis. Meanwhile, she missed the entire fall horseback riding season and has spent a good deal of it on heat/ice/medications/rest/stretching. My poor woman has been sidelined, and she's not the type to be sidelined! Trust me on this one. December 7th we will return to Atlanta for her to have an EMG test on both legs and another visit with the neurosurgeon. Remember her telling you that she was injured when she fell through a stage floor in 1994? Well, the MRIs of her lumbar spine don't look good at all. It seems as though she may be dealing with the gradual deterioration of a disk catching up with her.
2. I was diagnosed with MS and am going to see a neurologist in Atlanta 12/30. It's the soonest I could get in, but my nurse practitioner said that this is the neuro she would see if it were her.

So how do I keep my equilibrium? How does she?

I haven't had the energy to do as much writing as I used to do, nor have I read as many books. But then again, I'm with the girl I've always wanted to be with, and of course I want to spend time with her. I haven't made plans yet to return to school, but when I do, it will be online by necessity. There are no universities close by. With our health being what it has been, we haven't gotten out as much as we did in the beginning, but we did go out to dinner on Thanksgiving, and we went to a movie together tonight.

She has pulled away from many of her old friends, as some of them are in the ex's corner or are very anti-gay. She has not been able to horseback ride, or do much of anything. She has missed a lot of things she used to enjoy.

The end result is that we've both been through a tremendous amount of change and associated stress in the last year (including a major surgery she had in January). It isn't just one of us; it's both of us. We're both trying to find our center again.

We don't ever mean to let any of that get in our way, but how can we help it? There are days in which we miscommunicate or fall short of being the perfect couple. But I've really given up on being perfect at anything, truth be known. Since my daughter died, I have begun to realize that there is no perfection, there is only one's best effort.

That's what I'd say I'm giving life most days - my best effort. I try to be cheerful and hopeful and positive, but there are days during which I just want to pull the covers up over my head and give up. I can't imagine why she puts up with me. I just can't imagine.

As we make our way through this maze, we may make a few wrong turns or find a few dead ends. The key, I think, is to keep correcting our path and moving forward. As long as we're together, we'll get through it all. Otherwise, we risk wandering aimlessly through the endless hallways and right angles, the dark corners and frustrations. It's far less scary if you just reach out and take the hand of the one you love.

Peace - L

Little Gifts

I know that when my mother died, I received a gift. I got to be there during her last days, sitting with her in that lonely hospital room with my siblings, taking turns feeding her until she passed. That was a gift. I got to talk to her and say my goodbyes. I got to hold her hand. I got to bathe her forehead and feed her ice chips.

With my daughter, I got to do none of that.

Instead, she died alone in the home of someone I didn't know. The woman never came forward and offered to talk to us or anything. She wanted to fade into the background, I think, but I would have loved to talk to her. It was someone she knew from AA, so I guess anonymity might have been a factor, but still. Wouldn't you have reached out to the family of someone who died in your home? I would have. It would have been a gift to me to talk with them.

When my girl died, she was alone. I didn't get that chance to be at her side, holding her hand. Her body lay there for at least 12 hours with no one home and no one knowing what had happened. That thought haunts me on days like today. No one should have to die that way, though plenty of people do. That my daughter died that way will always torment me. I talked to her on Monday. Her brother talked to her on Wednesday. She wasn't feeling well when he spoke to her. She canceled plans to go out and shoot pool with him, their Wednesday night thing. She was afraid he was mad at her, but he wasn't. He was disappointed, because he'd been looking forward to it all week. None of us ever got to speak to her again.

On Thursday afternoon, a wave of fatigue hit me like nothing I've ever felt. I set my Away status on my work computer and fell into bed for a nap. I couldn't keep my eyes open. While sleeping, I dreamed of her. She was lying in a hospital bed - as she had so many times before - and she had all kinds of tubes and wires running to and from her body. She was wearing a pale blue hospital gown with dark blue diamonds on it. She had a peaceful look on her face and was just gazing at me. I was shouting, "What's wrong? What has happened to you now?"

You see she was always sick, and sometimes we think she made herself sick. Some of her doctors thought so, too, but no one could ever say for sure. It was hell on us all.

When I woke up, I was shaken. I thought, "Okay, she's sick. She's in the hospital again. I'll hear from her soon."

The next day at noon, the doorbell rang and it was the police, telling us she had been found dead around 4:30 that morning. They said she had been dead "at least" 12 hours. I probably could have pinpointed it more accurately for them - around 1:30 p.m. on Thursday. She was a Thursday's child. She came into this world on a Thursday and left it on a Thursday. Thursday's child has far to go.... but my daughter didn't get far. She got as far as age 25. I'll never get to see her marry or have children or get gray or start a career or any of those things. All those milestones are left idle. All those little gifts a mother looks forward to? I won't get those.

I have no idea what she was wearing when she died. Probably pajamas, as she was in bed. But when we had to go to the funeral home to view and identify her body after the autopsy, she was respectfully laid out in a simple casket. When I stepped into the chapel and saw that it was really her, that porcelain face and dark hair, looking for all the world like Snow White, a moan escaped me like nothing I've ever heard come from my mouth. I had hoped against hope that there had been a terrible mistake. I walked down the aisle toward her.

Inside the casket she lay inside a cardboard box that would be used for putting her remains into the cremation chamber. They had covered it in white gossamer fabric. When I drew near to the casket, I saw that she was in a pale blue hospital gown, covered in dark blue diamonds. A white gossamer blouse was on her underneath it, covering her neck and arms. She had sent me a message that Thursday afternoon. Her last gift to me.

But I also got the gift of knowing she was going to AA and was working hard at service. There were many things I didn't get. But what I did get was the gift of having her go to church with me one time and meet my friends there. What I did get was the gift of having her AA buddies tell me that in her last meeting, she said that she was alive because God was with her. Those were all incredible gifts. But you know? I would rather have her back with me, all things considered. That would be the greatest gift. What parent who has lost a child hasn't thought that?

Today has been hard. I needed to write about it. I was making myself a bowl of chili for dinner and started crying. I'll never get to make sure my daughter eats again. I'll never do her laundry or take her car for an oil change or visit her in the hospital or any of those things I did a hundred times over. Instead, I'll miss her the rest of my life. I'll miss her face, her laugh, her beautiful hair, her smell, her wry sense of humor... I'll never get another call from her or another visit from her. I'll never laugh with her or cry with her again. I'll just cry over her, over the fact she's gone.

I don't write nearly enough anymore, because it always turns into this - sorrow. Maybe that's the point, really.

The grief support group meets again on Thursday. I'm looking forward to seeing them, and I need to take a photo of my daughter with me for the remembrance board. I'll have to find one I can part with.

In the meantime, I'll keep plugging along. Thelma has been ailing with an injured hip that the doctors can't figure out. She hasn't been able to ride her horses, which is making her (and the horses) miserable. Keep her in your prayers that she will be mended soon and that the doctors can see to it that she is. Keep us both in your prayers for the days in which we deal with more than we think we can handle.

I'll write when I can. Peace - Louise

Long Road

Hey everyone -

Louise here. It's been a long time between posts here at GirlyRanch, for a lot of reasons. We've just celebrated 4 months together (yesterday) and are doing well! Recently there was some family drama, however, that left us quite shaken up. We're hoping that has passed and will be a blip on the radar, in the long run.

Tonight we'll be going to our first meeting of a grief support group geared just toward parental bereavement. I should have gone to such a meeting long ago...after all, my girl has been gone for 5 months now...but I kept thinking I could handle it. Just as doctors make lousy patients, people who have studied thanatology (the study of death, dying, and bereavement) think they can help themselves. I was doing my first (and probably only) semester in that discipline when my daughter died, and my term paper for that semester was on - you guessed it - parental bereavement. Had I know how much I would need the information in that paper, I could never have written it. As it turned out, though, I really needed the info. One of the national organizations I studied about has a chapter in this area. I'll be meeting with them tonight and will probably go through a box and a half of tissues while telling my story.

That's what I'm finding lately - that I cry at everything. I'm already on an anti-depressant, but you can't medicate away this kind of grief. It pervades everything I do. What I'm hoping to get out of this support group is a set of peers who have been in my shoes, a group of people who really understand what I'm going through on a personal, core level. Lots of people have given me their love, support, and sympathy, but I want to know some people who have come out okay on the other side of this grief. Later, I can offer to be supportive to newcomers. I was going to be a grief counselor, after all. Now I am too frozen in my tracks to know what I want to do.

I got my belongings shipped to me over the weekend. Included in them were things that belonged to my daughter. Among the things I have encountered so far: clothing that still smells like her, her cherished make-up case that contained her nail polish and piercing supplies (she did body piercing for people), a note she wrote to me about 5 years ago, and her purse. When I opened her purse, I saw her glasses case. I opened it and saw her eyeglasses, just as they were when she took them off for the last time before falling into a sleep from which she would never wake.

My blood felt like ice water, and my vision seemed to narrow. I closed her purse quickly and put it into the plastic bin. I'll deal with things like that later, when I'm stronger. I still can't believe she's gone. There is very little comfort to be had some days because nothing anyone says or does (including my dear Thelma) takes the sting out of my torn heart. Maybe this support group will be good for me.

Anyway, I hope you will keep checking back with us at the ranch. We will post updates as we can, but we are still both going through divorces. Maybe you will keep us in your prayers, if you pray. We would both appreciate that.

Love, L.

Taillights Receding

Now I know how my mother felt.

They tell you that you won't be able to truly put yourself in your parents' place until you've had or raised children. There is something about having to mend a boo-boo, potty train a kid, hear them shriek from their room - "I hate you!" that shocks you into a deja vu moment of "Wow, this is how my mom must have felt."

This morning around 5 a.m., my son and his best friend drove away from Girly Ranch to head back home. We had them visiting since Thursday night and spent our days talking, eating, drinking margaritas (okay - that was in the evening), and doing some fun things. Thelma got to know my boy a little more, and we enjoyed spending time with his best friend, as well. I wish I could post some pictures of the visit here, but for now we're laying low. Lots of divorce stuff going on, and though I've taken great pains to hide us away here in the blog, you never know.

It wasn't until last night, though -- when I was making sure all the boys' laundry was given back to them, that they had snacks for the road, that the coffee maker was ready, that the car was cleaned out and packed -- that I realized how my mother must have felt when I came for a visit and was packing to leave. She must have felt the same rock in the pit of her stomach thinking about how long it might be before I came to visit again. At first it was once a year, then it became less frequent as I added children, pets, and more responsibilities to my plate. It was really hard to do when I was traveling with work - and now she's gone. I'm hoping that my son - the only child I have left - will continue to want to visit us here and spend time doing fun things.

I swore I wouldn't cry when he left, but as Thelma picked up her blanket and rose from the rocking chair on the porch, as the taillights of my son's car passed through the gates of Girly Ranch, I burst into tears. Thelma hugged me and took me back inside.

"I wonder how many times my mama has cried like that when I left," she said.

We drifted back off to sleep at some point, but the ranch feels very empty today. I'll be waiting for the boys' next visit with longing.

Peace - L

The saga continues...

Well continuing on about my dad and his murderer. The 21 year old shot my dad on a Wednesday morning at 6:15. My dad had normally opened the store at 6:30, but the newpaper deliverer came earlier that day than usual to deliver the paper. So my dad decided to go ahead and leave the store door open, being that it was only 15 minutes until he opened anyway. The young jock came in and asked for a pack of cigs and began shooting until my dad hit the floor dead. The whole scene was captured on the store video, so there was no doubt who committed the crime. Now, it was a matter of catching the guy.

He left out of the store and ran away to a hiding place until Friday night. He escaped to a rural area outside of town where he stole a big rig and drove it into the ditch. Then he stole a tractor to try to pull the big rig out of the ditch when someone saw all the ruckus. Needless to say, he was caught. He is now serving life without the chance of ever seeing the outside world again. If he does try to appeal he will go straight to death row. It's very hard for me to have a forgiving spirit with this kind of trauma, but I CAN say my mother is a forgiving person as she had one of her ministers give my dad's Bible to his murderer. He didn't realize he had my dad's Bible until the trial, when the judge gave my mom a chance to speak. She told him about the man he'd murdered. That he would have given him the shirt off of his back, or helped him in any way. She told him he now owned his Bible. The young guy broke into tears and asked for forgiveness.

This was so hard for me (traumatic) as I was an only daughter and the baby of our family. I was a daddy's girl. He was the ONLY one in my immediate family who accepted me as I am. He never said a negative thing to me about my sexuality. I lost my best friend and advocate, forever! Somehow, I know he is looking down from heaven and seeing my happiness.

Back to "our" story...back in January, I had to have a hysterectomy and was incapacitated for a couple of months in recovery as I had complications with the surgery. I had bought a computer and thought it was a good time to try to discover the world of the internet. I had heard about Facebook and decided to join and reconnect with old school friends and family. I found I enjoyed the space and stayed on it quite a bit during this time. One day, on April 1st, I got a message from Louise. I racked my brain at first trying to remember her as I didn't recognize her last name. It threw me a curve. Then, oh my gosh, I remembered!

My heart pounded as I tried to type and answer her message. I told her I had remembered us being friends all those years ago and that I was glad to hear from her. Then our replies were passing instantly back and forth. We talked about old times and people. As time went on over the next day or so we became closer, more open. There was an excitement stirring in me once again. I wanted to get to know her more. Know what was going on in her life. Wondering what that fire was I felt when we were young.

My life for the last 8 years had been so dry, bland, and cold. I tried to make my marriage work. I tried to love my husband honestly and faithfully. I had made a commitment and was determined to fulfill this commitment til death do us part. But I was so sad and lonely. And he was not loving me as he should a wife. Not giving me affection, attention, or a sexual relationship. And my husband and I already slept in seperate rooms. Our marriage was one that had long been burnt out. We were just going through the motions of what we should do as a married couple. We had everyone fooled that we were happy, in actuality, we were far from that. I had stayed long enough trying make it work, make everyone else happy. Trying to live up to their expectations. I was ready for a change. Missing my old self, I allowed those passionate feelings to come back in when I heard from Louise. Remembering those looks we gave each other back then, I knew there was something that had happened between us that no one else but us realized. And it was hot!

More to come.....
Thelma

The Nest

We have been suffering from a bug here at Girly Ranch. For the last week or so, we've been terribly sick with something of a stomach flu, caught on the heels of eating some KFC out of sheer desperation (we were starving, and we were going to be getting home late). Well, let me tell you -- we are more than ready to get out of this house and do something fun!!! It isn't that we don't like spending time together, but we'd rather be spending time doing something other than lying in the fetal position wondering when the next wave will hit.

Yesterday, Thelma did a little housekeeping, including putting a shine on the wood floors. When she went outside to hang out the mop and dump the bucket, she got swarmed by flying insects. Coming back inside, she said, "I think we have some bees under the deck or something. Could you check it out when you get a minute?" She, you see, is highly allergic to bee venom. That scares the heck out of me, because if something happened to her ... well...

So I did the good girlfriend thing and went out to check it out, though I'm terrified of flying things, myself. I crept outside onto the deck and turned toward the stairs leading down to the carport. The flying things would have come up from that area. We have a lot of lawn equipment down there and were up and down those stairs quite a bit during and since we moved in.

Down the stairs I went, slowly, barely stirring the air. I tried to stay calm. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I went a few feet into the carport and turned to look up at the underside of the deck.

There hung an inverted teardrop shaped nest, busy with flying insects - hornets, to be exact, though I wasn't sure until I looked up nest styles on the 'net. I slowly went back up the stairs, my heart pounding in a way I hoped they wouldn't notice. I've only been stung a couple of times in my life, but I've heard the tales about hornets and how they attack. I don't know if it's true or not, but I didn't want to find out firsthand!

Thelma, being the cowgirl she is, immediately went into action. She got the wasp & hornet spray that shoots a 30-ft stream and went out the basement door after the nest. I tried to stop her, but when she sets her mind to something, stand by! I kept the door open and an eye on her. She got just close enough to fire that stream, and she doused them good, running back into the basement afterwards.

The hornets swarmed madly about the nest, trying to figure out what had just happened. They got slower and slower and eventually some of them dropped to the concrete below. She sprayed them later on, just before dark, with the remainder of the can. We're hoping they're all gone today so that we can remove the nest. But it was an adventure. I'm glad the adventure didn't result in a trip to the ER or even a single sting.

Now...on to my next cup of coffee....

Love, L

Thelma's Turn

(Thelma)
Well I am just about to burst to tell some of my side of this story...

I did meet Louise when I was 15. I did give her the "LOOK"! The look like I wanted to squeeze her or something? At the time I didn't understand what it was that I really wanted to do? I was so young and afraid of what I was feeling. Afraid of being disowned by my friends. I was in the least frustrated because I really wanted to act upon those feelings of desire for her that was stirring inside of me. Plus there was always someone with us and I couldn't seemed to ever get her alone.

Well, time went on and she moved away. We went in our own directions, not knowing or understanding what it was we were feeling for each other. I did finally "come out" eventually but my Louise was gone. I had dated women throughout my life and even lived with someone for close to 7 years. I got seriously injured on my job which resulted in changes in my life that sent her into the arms of someone else. I was hurt and it was over. Also, along about the same time that all of that happened my dad was murdered, shot twice in the chest and twice in the head, by a 21 year old guy who was on drugs. This devastated me.

During all of my "out" life, my mom stayed on my back constantly, saying that because I was gay, I was going to hell. The pressure got so bad that I finally gave in to her and married a guy. I was in this marriage for 8 long years. I was so unhappy and miserable. I knew this wasn't my place..my home. More to come.......

Thelma

Pigeon Forge

View from our hotel room in Pigeon Forge.


In a minute I'll start the next installment of our story, but first I have to tell you that I am missing Thelma right now. We have scarcely been apart for 5 minutes since we reconnected May 16, but right now she is out on a horseback ride with her best friend. I encouraged her to go, because I'm still a very inexperienced rider. We went on a ride at sunset last night, but I have yet to ride anywhere but on our 13 acres at Girly Ranch. I'm learning, and last night was the best ride yet. I actually got the horse into a full rack and had a very good time going fast! That was a first for me, because normally I'm terrified that I'm going to fall. I'm learning.

This morning Thelma is out with her friend, a very experienced rider, and they are scoping out a new trail, one I hope to be able to ride someday soon. But when I saw her riding away down the long gravel drive, a knot formed in my stomach. I spent 30+ years away from her, and now it hurts to be apart from her at all. I know she feels the same way. We talked about it in the wee hours of the morning, but I said, "You have to go ride. It will be so good for you!" And it will be good for the horses, too, because they are getting mighty fat (and shiny) from eating all this terrific grass in our pasture.

But I know you want to find out what happened next in our saga, right?

We planned to meet a couple of hours north of her house in the mountains, to both shave some time off my drive and to spend the weekend together in absolute privacy. After all, she was still living in the house with her own STBeX, and her mother-in-law was just dying to meet me, clueless as she was about what was coming down the pike. Thelma was already on her way out of her marriage, as was I, when we found each other again. Her MIL and husband thought that life would go on the way it was. I'll let her tell that story, though. Suffice it to say we needed some time together before dealing with that situation.

Our planned destination? Pigeon Forge, TN. Think Dollywood. Think tourist trap. I knew nothing about the place, but I knew she would be there. We talked by cell phone off and on all that day while I was driving. I plugged my iPod into the car stereo and listened to an eclectic mix of tunes, including some she had sent me during the previous 6 weeks. It made me feel connected to her.

Most of the drive flew by. I had expected to be tired and sore. I had expected the drive to be rough on me, because I hadn't driven any distance at all in the 3 years since my mother died and I got sick. Instead, I was feeling energized, free, and alive. I was feeling that rush of emotion that comes with new love, though this love had been in my heart since adolescence. As I got closer to Pigeon Forge, my pulse raced and my face felt flushed. The anticipation and excitement was about to be satisfied. While I drove those last few miles, I brushed my teeth and chewed some gum. Normally I like to freshen up before I see someone after a trip, but this freshening-up had to be on the fly!

She had found what she said was the perfect hotel room, and I was to call her when I got off at the exit. If you've never been to Pigeon Forge, though, just think of some tourist trap you've been to - the Outer Banks, for example - at high season and you will know what I faced. Stop and go traffic, endless red lights, and a seemingly interminable trip to Thelma. She told me to look for the Ruby Tuesday that was near ... something else...can't quite remember now - so I kept an eye out for that while watching out for distracted tourists (hmm, was I one of those, too?).

When I finally saw the landmarks she mentioned, I was in the center lane. I pulled a quick right turn across two lanes and saw the hotel just ahead. Hands trembling on the wheel, I pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine. I took a deep breath and checked my face and hair in the visor mirror. Then I called Thelma and said, "I'm here!"

While I waited for her to come down to the parking lot, I unloaded the car of my things. When I heard her wolf whistle at me, I was standing there with my luggage neatly stacked beside me. Her blonde curls were tossed by the breeze as she strode over to where I was standing. She stopped about five feet from me and we took each other in. She was even more beautiful than she was at 15 years old. She had matured and grown into a gorgeous woman. She was wearing jeans and a romantic lace-up shirt. She had on a fancy Western belt and hot little cowboy boots. Her jewelry, hair, and make-up were perfect, and she was smiling at me as bright as the sun. I hoped that I - in my jeans, black t-shirt, and sneakers; 7 1/2 hours of road weariness on me - was not a disappointment to her. I smiled and say, "Hey you."

She looked at me and said, "Get over here, woman - right now!"

We moved into each other's arms and hugged as tightly as I have ever hugged or been hugged by anyone. Our bodies touched from head to toe, and I buried my face in her sweet-smelling hair. "I've missed you...it's so good to see you finally," I said.

That was the best moment of my life (aside from the birth of my children). When I finally pulled back from her and looked her full in the face, I saw that she was just as enamored of me as I was of her. We had had six weeks of reconnecting and courting over the phone and computer, but standing in front of her, I felt all the intervening years and miles fall away. She grabbed some of my luggage and together we headed inside.

Once the elevator door closed, I leaned toward her and kissed her. I waited my whole life for my lips to touch hers, and I wouldn't wait any longer. When I pulled away, we were both smiling. We didn't just have fireworks between us - we had nuclear fission! My heart had known all along that she was the great love of my life, and now the rest of me knew it, too.

We exited the elevator on the 6th floor and went to room 623.

The room was large with a king-sized bed, a jacuzzi tub in the room, and a balcony that overlooked a stream. It was perfect, and there were long-stemmed red roses waiting for me. We dropped my things just inside and I took her face in my hands. I wanted another of those incredible kisses.

Before the day was up, we knew we would need an extra night. We had planned for one, but we knew it would be at least two days before we could face other people with any kind of discretion or propriety. She called and arranged for the care of her horses and for an extra night in what we began to think of as our room. (We plan to spend our anniversary there next year - and hopefully every year after that).

Fortunately she had stocked the room with fruit, snacks, and water. Though we weren't hungry, we had to stay hydrated :-) Our time together was incredible, indescribable (and not something I wish to divulge!). Let's just say that after Pigeon Forge, our lives would be forever changed. Neither of us wished to go back in "the closet" or continue with life as we previously knew it. We decided then and there that we would be together, whatever it took.

More of our story to come later....L

And then it all began...

(A continuation of Timing is Everything...)
After I got the email that broke the dam wide open, I just had to get through what I had to get through for my daughter's death. Thelma was there for me every step of the way, from the moment I told her that my daughter had died right up until now. The last two days have been very, very difficult. It's been three months since my girl died, and it's been weighing heavily on me. When I catch myself feeling happy and content, I start to think about how my daughter will never have that again in this world. She'll never go tubing down the river. She'll never meet Thelma. She'll never get on one of our horses. And then the tears come and I feel like I can't breathe.

We were supposed to be having fun last night at a July 4th party, and I ended up going back to the car and having myself a cry. I ended up crying so hard on the way home that my shoulders, chest, and back ached. Coming off this long-acting pain medication is hard, too, but I feel like I'm in the perfect storm sometimes. Yes, overall I'm happy, but I'm also going through a lot of crap.

But back to the story. Over the days beyond the memorial service, Thelma and I became inseparable, at least online. We were either on the phone, on Facebook chat or sending emails and music back and forth. We began getting to know one another again, because things had changed so much since high school. We'd each had full lives that spanned the spectrum from joy to pain and everything in between.

We started talking about getting together in June in Maryland. I was planning to get her a room at a very nice hotel down the street from me. I had cats at the house, plus the STBeX was still living there, so her staying at my house wasn't possible. She was going to fly or drive in the second week of June.

Then I began to feel that I couldn't wait to see her. I know she felt the same way. So I asked her whether it would be possible for me to come see her in late May. As I expected, she was overjoyed! I began searching for good rates on a flight and settled on one for the Memorial Day weekend. I would be there for 5 days, and she reserved a room in the city for the first two nights I'd be in town. We knew we'd need that time to get to know each other again and express how we were feeling. She reserved a very, very nice room, and we were both looking forward to being together.

The longer we talked, though, the more we knew 5 days together wasn't going to be enough. She wanted to take me horseback riding and to the river, and all the things we ended up doing together. I decided to extend the trip, flying in the week before and working part of the time I was to be there. It isn't that I wanted to work, but I had used a lot of time off around my daughter's death.

As the trip neared, I would give her daily updates, counting down from 30 days... "28 days and a wake-up," I'd say. It seemed interminable.

One Thursday I was out walking my bulldogs and thought, "I just want to get in the car and GO." It occurred to me that I could just go on Saturday...a full 5 days early. I called Thelma and said, "What would you think about me coming down there early? Driving, instead of flying?"

The response was a resounding YES! I went into high gear, packing and prepping everything for the trip. I'd be with her for two weeks, extended from 5 then 10 days. The closer the trip got, the less I felt that I ever wanted to come back to what I was now thinking of as my old life. I knew I needed to get away, to think about something besides my daughter's death and all of the reminders, but it was much, much more than that. I was in love. I had loved Thelma since high school and never gave up on finding her. Now that I had her in my sights, I knew I'd never let go. I'd never give up until we were together. Having her back in my life made getting up in the morning easier. It made life worth living.

Saturday morning came and I put on the coffee. I had barely slept and had a long drive ahead of me, but I scarcely felt the fatigue. All I knew was that in a matter of hours I'd be meeting her at a hotel in the Tennessee mountains. I'd be seeing her again for the first time in 30 years. I hoped she would like what she saw....

Until next time, L

Thelma is ALIVE and HAPPY!!! :-)

Us at the Ocoee River
Hi everyone, I am Thelma!!! Nice to meet you all. I wanted to introduce myself before I respond to this post written by the "love of my life". I am just a country girl, actually a cowgirl who loves spending my time in the country and nature. Especially now. I look at life a whole lot different now, since my long lost high school sweetheart stepped back into my life. Life seems worth living, and I actually feel like I am 15 all over again. The passion, the energy that comes with rekindled LOVE! Whew, it can take you to heaven, that's for sure!!! :-) Anyway, I just wanted to say hi to all of you, and now to my love...


Louise honey,
EVERY breath I take is so that I may be inside "your heaven"! I cherish the moments we share each and every day! You are the light of my life and the heart of my soul! A lifetime of love awaits in my heart for you. I have never been so in love in all of my life. My life got MADE the day you walked back into it. I know we will endure "whatever" to get through this "madness" of divorce. TOGETHER, we WILL be strong and "OUR" love WILL prove to win over ALL obstacles we must face in our lives!

Just YOU know that I LOVE YOU MORE THAN ALL THE STARS IN THE HEAVENS and that my dear is a hell of alot!!!! :-) My life is complete, now that you are here with me!

Yours forever,
Thelma

Dark Nights, Perfect Days

(Louise)

It's amazing to me how dark it can be in the middle of the night in the country. Some nights there are trillions of stars in the sky. Some nights are inky blackness with only the slightest hint of a glow on the horizon, above the tree line.

Too much is on my mind tonight, and it woke me from a sound sleep. The STBeX and I are duking it out via email over the debts he racked up during the marriage. He is threatening to let this go to the judge, and I'm trying hard to stand my ground on what my attorney and I agreed to as to what I'd pay. I won't go into the gory details here, but let's just say that I have been willing to pay the part of the bills I helped accrue. Thanks to whatever it is he spent the money on (I really don't know), we have no real assets to split - just debt. It's a bad situation for me, but it's one in which I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, every bit as faint as that tiny glow on the horizon at this early hour. Someday I will be divorced from this man and be able to go on with my life. I know that divorces can get ugly, and I had naively hoped it wouldn't be that way with us. Unfortunately, it's always been this way - yield to what he wants or pay the price.

It's enough to give a girl an ulcer.

But the weekend was not a waste--far from it. Yesterday we got up and went to breakfast at this fabulous little local place. When we were finishing up, Thelma called some of our friends to see if they wanted to go do something fun with us. Within a couple of hours, we met up with them at the river to rent some inner tubes and float for a couple of hours down through the gentle current. Her friend's teenage boys were there with us and provided plenty of comic relief and entertainment as we went downstream. I'm sure I'll be a little pink from the sun tomorrow (despite sunscreen on my pale, pale skin), but it was so worth it. What a beautiful thing it was to be out in nature, enjoying God's bounty!

We were both achy from sitting in inner tubes for a couple of hours, though, so I made us a quiet dinner at home that we ate in bed while watching "Hotel for Dogs". It was a lovely end to a perfect day.

Thelma has asked me to teach her to write a post here, which I will be helping her with over the next couple of days (between my work deadlines and her wanting to catch up on chores we didn't do this weekend). I can't wait for you to "meet" her!

And Thelma? This video is for you, darlin'. (To the rest of you - this is our song....)

Love, Louise....

Overworked

(Louise here...)

It was a busy week at work. There's a Tuesday deadline coming up for one of my projects at work, and things have been hectic.

Yesterday, Thelma saddled up one of the horses and took him for a short ride around the pasture and up and down the lane down from the house. A friend was supposed to come ride with her but never showed up. When she called to find out what happened, that friend had gone home and gone back to bed - sick - but she never called to cancel. The whole day kind of spiraled down from there. One thing after another piled up on her until we fell into a fitful sleep around 2 a.m.

I was up at 9 this morning, my head throbbing. Since I've been here in the mountains with Thelma, I have come off of many of my medications. Those of you who know me from the old blog know that I've been sick off and on for about 3 years. But now I'm off of my heavy-duty sleep medication - completely. I rarely if ever take my pain medication for breakthrough pain, and tonight I start tapering off of the long-acting pain medication. That will leave me on exactly two medications: thyroid meds and anti-depressants. If things keep going this way, maybe the anti-depressants will go away, too (though I don't think that will happen before the divorces are final...it's been a tad stressful, to say the least.

This is a short post, and I need to get back in the house. I'm in the driveway refreshing/activating Thelma's XMRadio in the truck. I wanted you to know we're okay, but we're starting to get some harassment from a few people who want to equate being gay with being a pedophile. They are starting to come down on her (and are using me to hurt her, too). If you're the praying type, prayers are appreciated for strength during this time. If you're not the praying type, send some good energy our way. Either way, we both love you and appreciate you checking in here at the ranch.

Love, (Thelma &) Louise

Timing is Everything

(Louise, the prolific)

Had I found Thelma any sooner, I might not have been strong enough or determined enough to make that move in the right direction. As it was, I had spent the last year of my life getting "sober" from codependency. My daughter had problems, and we seemed to feed off of each other - with me always picking up the pieces for her when she drove her life into the ditch. I was also very codependent with my STBeX (soon-to-be-ex) husband, always enabling him not to be very responsible as the "provider" for the family. Many times, I was the one who had to go out and find work. I was good at it, though, always succeeding at whatever I set my mind to. Lucky for us, I could do that. Not so lucky for my kids, as their mom was usually traveling.

That year of recovery allowed me to see clearly what was mine and what was my daughter's or my STBeX's or God's. It allowed me to get out of my own way. It let me off the hook for the troubles of the world.

April 1st, I wrote to Thelma on both Classmates (which I hadn't found her on before then) and Facebook, hoping she'd remember me and write back. In my mind, she had moved on and wouldn't have a clue as to who I was. While I had spent the last 30 years thinking about her, I was sure she had never given a second thought to me.

Before the day was out, she had written back to me, twice in a row. In the first one, she seemed a little unclear about who I was, and then it was like a shock of recognition went through her. Within that one day, our notes to each other started flying back and forth minutes apart -- this was before I learned how to use chat on Facebook. Though we have erased all those messages for our own protection while we extricate ourselves from bad situations, they are forever etched in my mind. They went from friendly, long messages catching each other up on some things that have gone on since high school to a whole different tone a couple of days later.

April 3rd at noon (for anyone reading this who didn't already know), my ultimate nightmare came true. The police showed up at my door to tell me that my daughter was found dead at the home of a friend. After 8 weeks of red tape and toxicology tests, it was determined that she died of a fatal mixture of two common prescription drugs: Oxycontin and generic Ambien. If I put more details here, the ex might be able to find me through a search, so I won't. I'll just say that my life was forever changed that day. I still have moments of feeling like my guts are being torn out by a wild rhinoceros, like I may not survive my next breath from the absolute pain of the loss. I still have moments of disbelief that I'll never see my daughter again.

When I went to bed the previous night (a Thursday - and my daughter was a Thursday's child), my daughter was already gone, though I didn't know it yet. The next time I sent a message to Thelma, I had to tell her the horrible news. I think it was late Friday night when I wrote her. This was after I had made all the required telephone calls, gone to the funeral home, and fallen apart completely.

She was there for me in a way no one else was. My sister made plans to fly into town, and I really wanted Thelma, too, but I dared not say that. After all, I didn't yet know the full story. She was married. I didn't know how happily or unhappily she was married. Before the police came to my door that Friday, I had probed a little deeper into her life, asking about the years I'd missed - the years before she was married in 2001. The death of my daughter stopped us both in our tracks, however. It seemed like it would be inappropriate for me to ask for her to come to see me during all of the hell I was going through. But the most comfort I got from the STBeX was a pat on my shoulder. At least my son and I have a good relationship and we were of comfort to each other.

While I was dealing with the tragedy, an influx of family members, and endless planning for the memorial service, Thelma was at her mother's house for Easter. Little did I know, she was running about all the local towns looking for just the right gift to send to me. She was also immersed in my other blog, reading me and learning me.

A week after the memorial service, when everyone had gone home, I got a package in the mail. She and I had been talking on the phone by that point, and she asked me to please open it alone.

I went off to my room and pulled the shades. I was still crying my eyes out on a regular basis at that point, and my eyes felt red and raw. Just that afternoon, I'd had it out with the woman I had considered my best friend for years. She had come into town and made a jerk of herself, angry because I wouldn't go out and get a mani/pedi with her or take her out to eat. She seemed oblivious to the fact I'd lost my child only a week before.

In my room, I felt safe and secure. The world was outside that door, staying away.

I cut the tape off the box and peeled back the tissue paper. Inside I found a beautiful music box with an angel on top. The frame was gilded and the music was "How Great Thou Art". Tears slid down my face. It was the perfect place to put my silver pendant that held my daughter's ashes. She couldn't have known that I was conflicted about where to put that very special pendant. The music box was right on.

She also sent a card and a daily prayer book with the box, something else to show me how much she was thinking of me and missing me. Now that we were back in touch, we were hungry for each other's company. She had found the perfect way to tell me how much she felt my grief. I completely understood when I opened the box that she loved me. I no longer had to wonder how she felt then or now.

In the interim, while I was dealing with the planning of the memorial service, Thelma had responded to one of my FB emails in which I pried a little more into her past. I wanted to know if it was true that she had run off with one of our friends and if she knew anything about me. The response I got was a private email with the subject, "Yes". In her message, she said, "The answer is yes," that she had lived among women and had been out for many years BUT she did not "run off" with one of our friends. She moved away to the big city alone at age 17 and lived her life "out".

Life threw her too many curves at one time, however, in the 1990s and in 2000, and she ran back in the closet, succumbing to pressure from all sides.

The dam broke with that message because though it took me a few days to get back to her, I felt I had an opening to talk to her, and when the time was right, I did.

See you next time, L.

From the Beginning

That's me - bottom right.
That's her - top center.
Circa 1978.

Post of the Day at Authorblog!

(Louise)

There's a story here, and you know I'm one to tell it. I can't resist telling a good story, particularly a terribly romantic one.

I was between 9th and 10th grade when my parents announced we were moving from our big city home in Texas to a small town in Georgia. Horrified, I threatened to tie myself to a tree, to run away, or to join the circus - anything to avoid moving back to the sleepy little farm town my parents came from. Sure, we went there every year for several weeks in the summer, and during that time I would hang with my country cousins, fishing, playing softball in a field dotted with cow patties, and learning how to drive the golf cart my cousins zipped around the farm in.

That was all nice - for a few weeks - but my friends were all in the city. Every weekend, they were at my house or I was at theirs. Several of us girls hung out together on a regular basis like that, and I couldn't imagine all of it coming to an end.

Yet come to an end it did. That August we packed up everything and left the city. A wire art sculpture I had worked on for many hours went spinning out from beneath the soft-sided luggage cover on the roof and landed in the road behind us. Dad refused to turn around and go retrieve it (he never turned around - ever), so I watched helplessly as another car ran it over. It flew up into the air and came back to Earth with a crash, bent and disfigured.

Once we arrived in the deep south, life really changed. Things were more tense than ever between my parents because the money was gone. You see the reason for the move was that Dad was sick with cancer and was given about six months to live. He wanted to be back "home", near his mother and his brothers. His run as a big time general contractor was over as soon as he had that first surgery. We were living on very little money and that seemed to make things a lot worse.

My first day at school was a strange one. In the city we always dressed in our finest for the first day of school, but at school in that small town, things were different. Day one was the same as every other day - jeans and t-shirts or jeans and flannel shirts. These were farm kids, rural kids, who didn't dress up - period - unless it was for a school dance or church. Maybe that's not fair...some did dress up from time to time, but on that first day, I felt like a spectacle. I showed up in a black jumpsuit with high heels and a silver ring belt. I had on a silver necklace that looked like an inverted pyramid and silver earrings. For the first day of school in the city I would have been fabulous. In the country? I stood out like a sore thumb.

One of the classes I had to take was World Geography, a 9th grade class that was required and that had not been required at my last school. So in I walked to that first period class on the 9th grade hallway, decked out in my city clothes. One girl, by the end of class, asked bluntly if I was a "ho"! LOL!

It was on that day or one that followed when I first saw "Thelma". She was wearing what everyone else wore, the style I had not yet acquired, and looked up at me. We locked eyes. She would soon become one of my closest friends, a girl I would hang out with as often as I had with the girls in Texas, but she was different. There was something about that intense gaze of hers that shot right through me. I remember returning that gaze on a regular basis, especially during those sleepovers (in which we were NEVER alone....). There was a deep connection between us. She was not my first girl crush, but she certainly made the biggest impression.

I left that school halfway through my junior year because of something bad that happened to me in that town. I never told her why I left, and we lost touch over time. I never forgot her, though.

When I returned to town to see my mother in 1984, with my (ex)husband and little girl (who was 5 1/2 months old at the time), Mom told me that Thelma was gay and that she had moved to a big city with one of our mutual friends. My jaw dropped and I blurted out, "Why not me? What was wrong with me?"

I know that shocked my mother, but she got it. She understood. She had seen us together. My husband was likewise not shocked, because he swore he always knew that about me. But the fact remained that Thelma was gone - with another woman - and I was married with a child.

Over the years, I thought about her a lot. When times were really bad, it was her face I held in my mind, her intense gaze. I hoped I would see her again someday, and I always wondered where she was and what she might be doing.

(There's some stuff I'm going to skip here because it's quite personal to her, and I'll let her tell that part...)

About 6 years or so ago, I began doing internet searches on her name and trying to locate her. I kept coming up empty. She was nowhere to be found. I wondered if she was even still alive, because well, you never know.

And then in March, a mutual friend of ours contacted me through Classmates and MySpace. One of the first questions I had for him was, "Have you seen or heard from Thelma?" He said he had not and that she had not been at the high school reunion he had attended some years before. My heart sank, but I refused to give up.

I joined Facebook in late March, and after hearing from our mutual friend, I thought, "I haven't searched for her there yet..." and I did it.

BOOM - there she was, but she was MARRIED!!!

My heart sank again. I thought, "Well, I at least have to contact her and see...What if there was something there for her, too?"

I'll tell more of this story next time. She's ailing tonight and I'm being selfish, sitting here typing to you. Next post maybe I can tell you that she's better and can swallow without feeling like there's fire in it.

Peace - L

No Turkeys Today

Louise here again. I still need to teach Thelma how to blog on here, because I know she has things to say, too!

The other morning, as we were going about our morning routine, she shouted from the bathroom, "Louise! Get in here, you're not going to believe this!"

Not knowing just what to expect, I scrambled to her side by the bathroom window. In the foreground of that beautiful scene outside our home, just this side of the pasture where our horses were grazing, was a beautiful wild turkey (no, not the alcoholic kind!). He was pecking around in our freshly mown yard, foraging. We watched for a minute and I grabbed my camera (naturally). She slid the window open slowly, but he was alerted and went into a run and then soared out over the pond. A photo shoot ruined!

Despite the fact I was born in a small town in the south, I have lived in cities most of my life. This is the first time I've lived in the country, so far from town that I have to plan my trips to save gas. (She's lived in cities, too, but she's a country girl). In my last place, I was in walking distance of a Starbucks, a movie theater, Chico's, Coldwater Creek, the UPS Store, Fedex, the grocery store, the vet, etc. It was convenient, but it was also claustrophobic. At our new place, we can go out into the barn in our pajamas here, if we want to. We can leave our doors unlocked (though I don't), and we can walk around au naturel if we want.

It's a bit of a culture shock for me, but it's great. We're only 2 hours from a major city where we could go to concerts, museums, and sporting events (and yes, I plan to take her to a hockey game!), so we aren't so isolated. But our home is beautiful. I have never been in a place in which I felt such peace and serenity, such solace, such sanctuary. As soon as the farrier comes next week, we'll plan a horseback ride to exercise these horses who are getting plump on the more than adequate pasture land. I'm looking forward to a ride and a look at some more scenery from the back of this fine animal.

I may just become a country girl yet...Peace - L