November sucks..

I hate this month..I give to others so I don’t have to think about my Father, pretend to look happy on my birthday, and suck it up for the many things I’ve lost in my Novembers.  Proving no exception on November 6th I had to let go of my happy place

When I first moved to Idaho in 2004 I came apon a fisherman who gave me a crash course in steelhead catching.  In this magical little town north of Boise, Idaho I found strength, creativity, happiness, love, clarity, and I KNEW I would live there someday.   Eight years ago I did live there for a short time, but my dream of being a bad ass old geezer in a side by side, raising hell until I died would have to be let go.  I wrote books there, made friends, buried loved ones, hunted, fished, and will continue to visit my beautiful beloved canyon.  Unfortunately, living out my final days there aren’t meant to be. 

Since going back to work I have been haunted.  I have voices in my head, gut, and dreams telling me that I am forging a dangerous path, and am in the wrong place.  All I have done in the past, never have I felt Aunt Lynda jump out of her grave,  bitch-slap me, and turn her back in DISGUST!   I’m wracked with shame, almost daily, and that’s because I have days off!

Just as I was about to chuck this November perhaps job too up to another colossal WTF, a sliver of light from the most unlikely place crept in, and I was given an ah ha moment.  Light dawned. No WAY can I call tonight a coincidence!  Three moments merged into one and I know that today I was on the right path.

One, tonight was supposed to be my night off but I filled in.  Two, I spoke with a fellow mermaid fisherman that reminded me of my Aunt Lu Lu so I called her, and just as we were finishing our chat Aunt Lu Lu said exactly what I told my fellow mermaid Sista.  Third, I spoke with a total stranger who knew the Pastor that buried my Father.  This man never stepped foot in California, didn’t know where I was from,but here I was talking to a complete stranger and his wife about their child and they knew the Pastor that I sat in front of every Sunday, the name of the private school and just like the moon last night, a sliver of hope crept through my blackening heart.

As Aunt Lu Lu says, “He only gives us what we can bear.”

For the first time since I bonded the first sexual deviant out of jail and threw up, more than once, I understood why I am here.

I hope the Father heard me.  His child is being abused and I hope he heard her. I prayed and have hope!

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