Children have this innocence that we can only dream of. The world will rob them of this in time and it will never return. In the sweetest voice earlier today, my two year old daughter asked me “daddy, where’s my mommy?” How do I respond to this, she was about a year old when everything happenend. I’m sure she has no recollection of that night since she was asleep and stayed asleep throughout the whole fight, when I ended up telling my wife to go (all she wanted were the keys to the car, so I gave them to her). We haven’t seen her since, I talked to her once a few months later and told her I still loved her and she told me to “f*** off” so that was the end of it. I didn’t answer the question when my daughter asked me today, before I could say anything…..I don’t know how long I was silent thinking about the ’right’ answer, when my son told her “mom is at the doctor to get better before she comes back”. Now I’m stuck with either letting it go or shattering his dreams of her returning, in the eyes of a four year old, he only recalls the good things. Sometimes when he acts up and gets punished he tells me he wants me to go away and then his mom can raise him. He asked me once a few months ago where she was and my answer was “I don’t know”. Just an honest answer because she dissappeared again and I have no idea where she is. It’s an odd feeling knowing that she knows where we are but dissappeared again, only leaving me wondering when or if I will ever hear from her again. So back to the innoence of children, do I tell them the whole truth, or do I leave them with that wonderful hope in their mind that she may return. If I shatter their dream now, what will be their reaction, how will it affect them in the future, and if I leave them with the hope will they resent me for not telling them the whole truth. My daughter made it all better later in the day when she told me “daddy, you’re my mommy”. It all became clear…
I am more than an online worker. I am a woman who loves to write. I paint pictures with words. Sometimes they are beautiful like a painting by Monet. Other times, my words slide off the page in a poor imitation of Salvador Dali. Before I turn 45, I will go to a bookstore, find my novel, and lovingly run my fingers along its spine. I know I will. I am more than a faceless worker. I am a mother raising her brood in a shiny, neon city. A city that wants to eat them alive, chew them up, and spit them out. My son’s friends have discovered the nightmare that is black tar heroine. I pray they never draw him into their twisted world. Hawkers stand on the street corners, passing out calling cards for women who have sex for money. Red, blue, green, purple lights but twenty-four hours a day on the street where tourists come to play. They do things here they would never do at home and expect that the natives will never tell. But we do tell, some even take pictures and sell them to the highest bidder. How sad for all of us but this is the case. I am more than a mechanical turk. I am a person of integrity who winces at the lies and twisted schemes of this world and those who prepetuate them. I look after people who have less than me. I smile before I am smiled at. It’s my way. I want more from my world, more love, more compassion, more honesty, more fun. I want less from my world, less poverty, less hunger, less greed, less pain. I don’t know if I will these things come to pass. It what I pray for behind closed doors. I ask God for more and for less. I’ll always pray.
Once a successful Manager at a Fortune 500 Company, my position was eliminated, along with hundreds of others as part of a part of a corporate restructure. Oddly enough, the bulk of those who were affected were over forty five. Yet age discrimination is illegal in the United States. So know I have spent the last sixteen months pursuing another position. When not scouring the job boards, I pass the time doing assignments such as this,reworking sentences or answering surveys for pennies a day. My weekly salary does not match what I earned in an hour in the corporate world. The problem is many companies have outsourced American jobs to other countries. They earned a huge tax credit and did not have to deal with the expense of providing health insurance. They do not seem to be concerned that the quality of the service business is now lacking which ultimately effects the ability of these companies to sustain business. Having managed a group of service providers i am appalled when I am reduced to communicating with a representative thousands of miles away who does not even have a command of the language. Worst yet are the cases where there is no 800 number to call but only the option to relay a question or problem via email which continues in circles only to end in a canned response. I believe these jobs need to be brought home. National health care will enable U.S. companies to be able to do this by making it more affordable.
Now hear this! I don’t think I can overstate the positive influence that watching old TV shows on DVD’s has had — on me, my kids, my wife. Get Smart, I Love Lucy, Andy Griffith, Superman. These stories were invented and written by a group of writers and directors that no longer exists - but they were great. You can get a DVD and watch them uninterupted. Mission Impossible episodes captivate the young ones. If we want to watch something together, it’s a whole lot easier to fit in one or two of the old shows than a movie. Somehow I just don’t run into a lot of stories that I remember, so the plots are fresh, suspensful, surprising and funny. It’s also fun to see my kids watch shows that I watched as a kid when I was as old as they are now. When I first started watching TV this way, I thought I would end up with a favorite series. But the collection of the classic shows from the 60’s to the 90’s is the real treasure. It’s the totality of the collection that I’m happy to have as a resource.
My husband is on a bowling league and is a “way too serious bowler”. If I stay out of the gutters and score at least 100, I’ve already won. We used to be on the same league and team, but now I won’t even play with him for fun and here’s why. One particular league night I couldn’t throw a bad ball. I was picking up spares, splits and throwing stricks like crazy, he on the other hand should’ve stayed at home. He couldn’t even be happy for me and at one time actually kicked the ball return in anger after throwing a bad ball. I ended up with a 254 and he had a 179. I even beat him total pins. I could tell it was going to be an awkard ride home and after about 10 minutes I broke the silence by asking if he was mad because I beat him bowling. Without pausing to breath this was his exact words, “No I’m not mad, but your legs are fat and you need to do something about it”. I had to laugh because it was so 4th grade jealously. My reply was, “well they may be fat, but they still beat you bowling”! We celebrated our 21st wedding anniversary, December 2008, in Mexico. I’ve lost 105 lbs since November 2006 with Lap-Band Surgery. Not because of his chosen words, but because I chose to do it for myself!
