Grace, (Gracie's) Eulogy

Originally Posted: Monday, March 09, 2009
Written: aprox 6 days after my Doggie Daughter Gracie died.
Current mood:Somber/sad
Category: Writing and Poetry
So it's been 6 days, almost one full week. I still don't know whether
I'm coming or going. My Doggie daughter (Gracie Marie) is gone, and I
still don't know. I can listen to "Finding Beauty in Negative Spaces"
even though I played it while my sister and I washed her off and
brushed out her fur and cut the mats out. I can hear it and usually be
okay while hearing it. I can't decide what to eat though. I can't
decide if I'm hungry or not hungry. Sick or not sick. I can't stand at
the sink brushing my teeth without having someone to talk to and not
remember the way her paws clutched at me in the throws of death. I
can't stand to be alone to long but I can't stand to be around most
people either. I can't stand being in this house without her in it,
but I can't stand leaving this house because she's buried outside and
I don't want to leave her alone. She's not alone since her body is all
that remains and her spirit is at home on the other side, but I still
can't stand to leave her alone. I can't remember anything but I can't
forget her last 40 minutes of life, some of it spent arguing with Dad
over stupid money I couldn't find to take her to the vet that seems so
irrelevant now and was such a waste of time! I was going to get her to
the vet, going to help her but she died before I could. I hear her
panting, feel her heart racing beneath my palm. I remember patting her
and feel her fur and hear her struggling to breathe. She tried to go
potty but couldn't. Dad tried to get her to drink water but she
couldn't. I tried to save her but I couldn't. It was just like that. I
was watching L&O SVU: "Rage" & then my sister is saying:
"We think Grace's dying!" She's crying & I'm asking
"Why? Where is she?"
When I get out there, their all sitting around her on the flor, on the
couches & their crying or alternately acting calm. They aren't even
doing anything! Their just sitting there, so I sit and reach out for
her. My mother nudges her forward and I take hold of her, start
patting her and trying to calm her down. I say
"Call the vet."
They ask for the number and I give it. They call, ask me how old she
is and for once, I hear myself giving the correct answer:
"Thirteen."
Usually I screw up and say she's five. In my mind, Gracie is five, was
always five. She never grew older, never changed. She just didn't,
couldn't, wouldn't. But she did. I was worried about what it would be
like for her to go blind since she was a Cocker Spaniel. Little did I
realize that her heart murmur would take her first.
I feel her spirit pushing me forward, hear that long breath. The one
that seemed to take almost a full minute, and then there was no more
panting. I thought that was it, but she kept fighting. She kept taking
small breaths, inhale stop. Exhale stop. Inhale stop. Exhale stop. She
should have died at 4:15 but fought like hell for another 20 minutes.
It was 4:35 when she finally gave up. I can feel the couple of times
her head seemed to spin completely around. It jerked and brushed the
side of my face as I held her tight. I can feel her front paws
clutching at me and remember that sound her head made as it moved like
that. I can feel the jerking and hear the breathing. I was doing
things before for the most part, but now I'm home and we went shopping
but couldn't stay gone. It's 2AM and I'm sitting here typing now. I'm
sick and trying to hold in all my tears. It seems like their endless.
I remember wanting to hit Mom because she new Grace was gone but she
said:
"Lisa, c'mon. Maybe it's just the flu and she's really sick and we'll
take her to the vet and she'll be alright! They'll help her!"
Then she started crying. I was stuck with her and Becca & Eddie and
Dad, Bella and Cymmy kept coming into the living room to investigate.
It was like a fucking circus and I just wanted to hit them all! I
wanted to run into my room and lay on the bed with her in my arms and
never let go. I wanted to take her away where I could keep her all to
myself, didn't have to let anyone else see or touch or take care of
her. I wanted it just to be us! Her and I and noone else! I remember
Dad saying we should take her outside. He opened the door and I set
her down on the porch. He walked out and closed the door and I put on
my shoes and coat and was gone out to the porch to. He said she didn't
look well at all and I picked her up and held her. I kept saying
everything would be okay. We went back in and she had had her first
spasm outside. I knew she was leaving but I couldn't let her. I wanted
her to stay with me! I wanted her here but I did finally tell her to
let go. She still kept fighting and I had to say it again. I could
bearly get the words out. It was like my entire throat closed up and I
couldn't breathe let alone speak. Then there was mom calling her
sister and me phoning Holly and the other mother. There was brushing
and petting and holding. I asked Becca if she thought Mom would make
our BLTs we'd been planning for dinner, I just felt like we were
supposed to keep moving. 6 days later, I'm still trying to move. It's
like everything is still in slow motion. I eat because I'm "supposed
to". I talk to slow and swallow to fast and don't chew at all.
Nothing's real but everything's to real and I feel nothing and
everything. I cry and then I'm "fine" but not really. Fine just means
not crying. Crying means not fine. Food is ok or bad. Ok means "good"
and bad means "not tasting, not feeling textures". I'm either
comfortable "not cold" or uncomfortable "freezing from the inside
out." Music doesn't even help any more. I sing and I talk to people
and I type (some) and I check my youtube account, but I don't really
do anything. I'm watching myself do everything. My brain is overloaded
with images of Grace. Like a friend said,
"You want to focus not on the bad memories that make you cry, but on
the good memories that make you cry."
She's right, everything makes me cry. Seeing Duke and Snowball and
Tigger and KittyKitty and Belle and Carmel makes me cry. If I'm not
near them, that makes me cry to.
I keep thinking I should have made it to the vet, should have saved
her. She lived a good life but I still should have helped. I can feel
her body in my arms, she was warm because I kept her that way. I held
her almost every second that we weren't brushing her. If I wasn't
holding her I was lying curled up around her. No reason to protect her
in death but that's what I was doing. My arms don't ache anymore ,
neither to my legs from standing with her so long. Now the only things
that ache are my heart and soul, both things that are intangible. I
can hear my sister saying ew and cringing when I moved her body and
blood came out of her mouth and nose. I can see her lying on the floor
and hear her boyfriend telling her to get up and hear her saying that
she doesn't want to. It should have been me on the floor but it
couldn't be me because I had to take care of Gracie. She needed me and
I couldn't fumble the ball, I had to help her, but I did fumble the
ball because she isn't here. All I have left of my baby daughter is a
collar! A collar and to many memories that I can't live with or
without! A collar that smells like her and animals all around me who
belong to others, to remind me that I'm not owned anymore, that I
don't belong to a pet anymore. Animals that simultaneously comfort and
discomfort me. Animals that simultaneously love me and torment me just
by their existence.
It was suggested that maybe if I could figure out why Grace was put
here I could figure out why I was here. In other words, why I was
supposed to go on without her. I think she was here to teach me
independence. I remember my parents saying that I could take her for
walks. There was my incentive to gain more independence and stop being
such a chicken shit! My words not theirs. But I didn't take her for
walks, I didn't hold her as much as I should have or play with her as
much as I should have or value her as much as I should have or even
realize just how much I loved her! I didn't brush her as much as I
should have or cut out the mats from her fur as much as I should have,
and although none of those things would have stopped her from dying
when it was her time they still plague me. Their glaring inadequacies
on my part and now I have no way to remedy them because she's gone.
She loves me unconditionally still, I feel her here, but I don't love
me unconditionally and now everything I should have done or didn't do
haunts me. I shouldn't have let her drink out of the toilet even
though Dad thought it was a great idea. I shouldn't have spanked her
so hard that she cried out the day she bit Bella's ear and I shouldn't
have tossed her away from me the day she bit me after I spanked her
for biting Becca. All these things I shouldn't have done and even
though I apologized for them and she forgave me I can't forgive me now
that she's gone and I feel like I have to apologize for them over and
over again. I feel like I have to make her understand just how sorry I
really am and that I didn't mean to treat her the way she was treated
before she came to me. She was abused before, we got her from the
animal shelter and I never meant to do that to her again. I wanted to
make her life better and pamper and protect her and keep her in the
lap of luxury like she deserved. I feel her pushing me to move on but
I don't want to. I want to go outside and lay on her grave forever, to
just freeze to death and feel nothing. I want to crawl out of my skin
and run and run and run until this is all over and I can't feel or
remember any of it anymore. I want to forget everything and remember
everything and keep busy and not move at all. I want to go back to
Friday and apologize for sitting on her paws accidentally when I went
to check the answering machine and she was laying in her usual spot at
the end of the couch. I want to hold her all day long and give her the
bath I was supposed to give her and let her know how much I love her!
I want her back!!
Please stay my Gracie, my baby, please stay!!!
---
Gracie Marie Medina
Best Doggie Daughter of them all!
Original birthdate unnone.
First birthday with us 4/11/02.
Died Friday 1/23/09 4:35PM.
Mommy misses you baby!

9:04 AM

Old Letter on SHAUN, Transportation, thoughts

Another old email, tells about my Desire to meet SHAUN and how it played out!
Written Monday 4/16/2012
As for the concert, I had been doing that "I will meet SHAUN MORGAN
Saturday 4/14!" affirmation. . . well I made it to the 1,000 mark,
which as I may have mentioned to you before, I heard through
MindMovies.com is how long it takes to START believing something. It
takes that many times saying an affirmation, any affirmation, for a
person's brain to actually start believing it. On Saturday I didn't
meet SHAUN, CRY!!!! however, Friendis and I were walking the halls of Joe
Louis arena seeking wristbands to get out onto the main floor and this
guy walks up and says: "Hey, wanna meet and greet with Nickelback?
We got an extra one!" Now, I'm not the biggest Nickelback fan and in
fact, the more songs they write about alcohol the less of a fan I am,
but on the other hand I thought "Well what the hell?" So we said sure.
So we got a meet and greet. All we did was say hi and get our picture
taken with the band. There was no giving out of signed memoribilia, no
time to even fake some great awakening in my life to thank the band
for, or time to whisper something about I've met SHAUN before and
since their on tour together could they rig it so I could. Lol.
Seriously, the plan would have been to play it up like they were the
greatest band ever, then just throw it in there as a casual
afterthought. Either way, I had no time to even consider or reconsider
my options since it was so quick. I have to say it didn't change my
impression of them at all. Well, unless you count the fact we left and
RAN towards the main floor SHAUN was in the middle of "FINE AGAIN" and
all you would have heard if you'd been there was some VERY 'unlady
like' language coming out of my mouth! Goddammit! Motherfucker!
Cocksucker!!!!!!! I new it!!!!!!!! I NEW I heard "GASOLINE" while we were waiting in line! Friendis just laughed and said: "Well okay then! Tell me
how you feel!"
Lol. After the show she said: "Friendis, I think the Universe got it's
signals crossed. Maybe you need to put more emphasis on SHAUN FUCKING
MORGAN FROM SEETHER!!! next time." Lol. I said: "Well, on the upside,
it proves affirmations work on SOME level. And besides, thinking about
molesting him did make it ALOT easier for me to finish my workouts!"
So meeting Nickelback wasn't a big deal for me, but I've been trying
to figure out how to inform the Universe of that without giving off
the signal that I'm completely ungreatful. The best way to some it up
I guess is that I'm Greatful the affirmation got me through my
workout, and I've carried on with my other ones. In fact I hit the
1,000 mark with both "I lose weight easily and effortlessly!" and "I
love working out!" today.
I also discovered yesterday morning that I'm down from 211 pounds to
203 pounds, so that encouraged me to keep up with the affirmations to,
plus choose my food choices carefully. I'm not as worried about
portions *for fruits and most veggies* for example, but I am more
careful with carbs. I found out the mac and cheese I love so much is
300 calories a cup so I only took a third of a cup the other day. I'm
also careful with my consumption of corn though I adore it! On top of
that I was even more proud of my progress considering Easter just
passed and I also just finished a box of apple cinamon chereos! I
didn't eat them all in one sitting, but because I'd already been
holding onto them for months and didn't want them to go bad I did eat
a few big bowls to get them gone before they expired on me. So all in
all I'd say I'm doing pretty darn good!!
I'm still reading like crazy about animals, REAL CSI techniques and
not the 'fake' stuff in the TV shows, and I've been keeping a list of
authors I like that I have received from books on tape so I can call
them up and ask for more of those authors.
Speaking of reading, one of the books I read is by Temple Grandin,
she's part of a group that helps to better practices for animals. All
animals though, from farm animals to wild animals to cats and dogs.
That's the supershort explanation. She's autistic and in her 60's now
and is also a professor in Colo.
Anyway, she was explaining about the different emotional systems in
animals, one of them being fear, another being rage. She said that
when an animal is held down it causes a feeling of fear which can
morph into a feeling of rage. This doesn't matter whether their held
down physically to receive a shot or mentally by having been
conditioned in a certain way for so long that they don't believe they
can ever get out of their present situation. You may see where this is
going. . .
It got me thinking about my rage in not an entirely different light,
but in a different light. I may have said things about my rage before,
but at the moment she said that, I started thinking that if I had a
more fulfilling life, being able to volunteer like I Desire to, doing
what I DESIRE to do, not what some one else tells me they think I'm
qualified to do/should do, than my approach to fighting parents and/or
children would most likely be a different one. My inclination is to
lash out because I feel a complete lack of control MOST of the time
over my life and any external forces that enter it. And in fact, the
fact that I'm able to control my rage at all only proves that I'm
'managing' just bearly and most likely doing so because my prefrontal
cortex has grown up and become fully developed *as it does by the time
your in your 20's* which has kept me from doing anything stupid.
Anyway, on that note, Dad informed me Friday night that SEETHER will be
the last concert in Detroit I see unless I find someone else to take
me. I handled it with grace I thought, but now I'm thinking I MUST
find someone to take me to Detroit BEFORE the Cranberries and Garbage
announce tourdates in our area, otherwise I'm royally screwed!!!! Dad
says when Friendis gets her license I can ride down with her *during the
day since she can drive during the day* and we can get a hotel close
to where ever the concert is, park her car there, walk to the concert
and then back to the hotel and she can drive us home the next day.
This of course ups the total cost of my concert to probably well over
$200, since no hotel room is cheap! Plus there'd be gas and the second
ticket if Friendis couldn't afford to buy her own. He says alternatively I
can ask B, but her personality IS NOT conducive to going in the
moshpit!
I went with SH to the 99% training yesterday and she loves rock
music, especially SEETHER! However, the downside is she hasn't been to
a concert in forever because she can't afford it, so I'm not sure how
she'd take to me begging her to go and promising I'd cover the cost of
everything. She's older and wiser, think she's in her 50's now, and
because she already knows so much about me *since I told her* she'd
probably reject this idea on principle alone because she knows my
money issues.
Friendis says to relax, but you know me, and I AM NOT relaxing! It's more
like I'm in low panic mode, haven't started pulling my hair out yet or
banging my head against brick walls, but should I find that either of
the aforementioned bands is coming to Detroit anytime soon, or that
any other band I LOVE is coming soon I will most likely start ripping
my hair out and pounding my head relentlessly against brick walls!
On top of that the Machine Shop isn't a viable option. They haven't
had a show I've REALLY Desired to see in months, which is why I
haven't been to a concert in months!
Being that my money is going for mail and the like lately, I'm ONLY
spending my money WHERE I HAVE to spend it, or where I REALLY REALLY
REALLY Desire something! So if it's a toss up between P.O.D and
Halestorm at the Machine Shop or SEETHER and Bush at the Joe Louis,
I'm going for SEETHER as I just did.
Anyway, I forgot that my newest affirmation is "I open my heart to
love!" just started that one today and got up to 100 before I ended my
workout.
I'm trying to settle on ones for fear, transportation and getting what
I Desire next. Or maybe fear of not getting what I Desire and Desire
go together somehow. . . Still thinking on that one. Because that's
what all this is predicated on. I'm afraid of living to be 55 and not
accomplishing ANYTHING worthwhile, not having a Baby, not having a
partner, not having transportation to concerts, not having a place to
volunteer at and transportation to and from that place, living with my
Dad forever, etc etc etc. So there's alot of fear there and that's
when I came to the conclusion I'd much rather die then live up to that
point only to find out I didn't do a bloody thing! In fact, I'd rather
die then EVEN ENTERTAIN this possibility of NOT achieving!
Friendis and I stayed up almost all night Saturday discussing it.
I went looking in my middle sized suitcase *I brought that one because
my big one is under a couple boxes and I new I'd be going with SH so
I didn't want to carry anything I didn't absolutely need with me and
that included lugging around a giant suitcase. So I stuck with the
middle one. So I'm digging in there to make sure I have my facepads,
soap, shampoo, lotion, toothpaste/toothbrush/mouthwash and I come
across a bottle with two Tylenol 3 pills in it. I told Friendis, when I
found that bottle my stomach got butterflies. It was like I was going
to meet ELI or something. That had never happened before and the smart
part of my brain thought: "Well, this is a new and concerning
development. . ." while the other half thought: "Great! They aren't
all gone and I can get even happier tonight!" Then I settled on the
idea that I would only take them IF I came out of the show in pain. Of course,
wouldn't you know, I did come out of the show in pain. Of course I did
because I stood on my feet for like 4 hours straight cuz we were on
the main floor! Needless to say I took them and then thought: "Good,
their gone. I don't have to think about them now." Fine thought for
two pills, but what if there had been 6 or 8?
So after we got back to her place we got to talking about it and she
was telling me how because she's struggled with alcohol and because
I've always been the 'smart one' the one who fights against pills and
alcohol and street drugs she didn't ever want to see me fall like
that. She says I already struggle enough and she'd hate to see me
struggle anymore with anything else. I know she's right and at the
moment I know it doesn't matter because I have no pills and no alcohol
and don't plan on spending money on either anytime soon! I've only
taken what's there. However, I also know that I feel just about as
rebelious as a person can feel and feel about 99% confident that if it
were offered, whatever IT might be, I'd probably 'try' it. I think the
only way I wouldn't would be, interestingly enough, if I were around
someone like SHAUN, because I know he struggles with it and I would
want to be the 'stand-up' person in that situation, the one example of
clenliness he probably would have around since most guys are doing
something these days.
That of course lead us into talking about destructive behaviors in
general and why, even when we're trying to improve our lives, we still
find ourselves walking SUPER tightropes. I told her, it's like those
bridges that they make for kids to play on at the park, you walk
across them, but others come and start bouncing on them while you're
walking across holding the rails and the whole bridge starts to shake
and rock back and forth causing you to become off balance. If you don't
hold onto the rails you could get hurt. Not really since they have
rails on them, but it's a perfect metaphor for life. Yes I'm a good
person, and I have some Great qualities, but I'm also very rebelious,
and the older I get the more rebelious I find myself being instead of
'less'.
I know what's good for me and what's not, but I still want to try
things that aren't, even things I know could hurt or even kill me. I
guess I'm like my mother in that way. NEVER thought I'd find myself
writing that, but she played at being a grown-up for a longtime and
then finally gave it up for partying instead. Dad's mellowed with age,
but he had his fun when he was young. My mother moved out of my
grandmother's house and into my Dads a week after she turned 17. They
got married in 1980, had me in 86 though they'd been trying since day
1 and B in 91. She managed the facade, though she did party often,
for quite a while, then even gave up partying and smoking for 8 years
or so and then went back when I turned 18.
It's another of those things for me though. I know what's what, I just
don't care. I know the score, I know I'd be playing with fire, I just
don't care about that, just like I don't care that I'd hurt my family
if I weren't here. I'd been trying to avoid saying that, kept trying
to figure out another word to describe what I think and how I feel,
but it's time for me to call a spade a spade and that's what this is.
I just don't care. Do I care at SOME level? Most likely, but it's the
same level that I care about killing someone if I get into a fight
with them. I don't WANT to kill them, but that realization wouldn't be
enough to stop me without someone pulling me off. If noone was there
to pull me off the person would be dead and then I'd start thinking:
"Oh shit! What did I just do? Why did I do that? I didn't want to kill
them! I just wanted them to suffer a little, I wanted them to stop
coming at me! That's all!" But when your dead you don't have those
thoughts, but if you could have those thoughts that's what I'd be
thinking afterward.
On an entirely different note, I mentioned SH, she's going to look
into getting transportation for me, she knows the daughter of the Your
Ride head and said she'd try to talk to him herself and explain my
situation to him. She's also talking to the others at the Disability
Network to see if they can't help me get a volunteer position with
babies or animals, maybe both if I play my cards right! That'd be
awesome, then I could probably be busy 3 or 4 days a week, maybe 5!
I think that's it for now.

Changing Perspectives

Note: Back to lessons from "Calling in The One" soon.
I just read an article sent to me via
http://sendmeastory.com/
and culled from
http://www.longform.org/
on a man named Michael May who is the founder and CEO of Sendero Group, THEE man who created a portable Global Positioning System unit *GPS* for the blind. He himself was blind and was the first blind CIA analyst, is a skydiver, a guitar player, mentor and lecturer. He's done ALOT in his lifetime and sighted or not, he's a fabulous role model for us all.
He's a guy who runs towards change! I myself must confess, I am like most, guilty of being complacent and even dare I say it, hostile towards change. In fact, for years my mantra has been: "I hate change! I hate change!"
I was sitting here last night thinking that I won't be that person anymore! I have no Desire to be that person in that crowd of change haters any longer!
I was also smart enough to recognize that this WILL NOT be an easy change,. I mean, 26 years as a self-confessed change hater?
The other day I was talking to my coach about my resistance towards finishing the exercises in "CITO" *"Calling in The One"* She asked me why. She pointed out how in classes I'm practically jumping over myself to get it done! I had reached Lesson 10 on Toxic Ties *in other words toxic rrelationship ties* and I said without thinking about it: "I don't want to. I know I have toxic ties to people and instead of renegociating them I'd rather just move out!"
I thought about that again as I repeated it to one of the Women in our "CITO" group. It was true. I was uncensored and unfiltered and just said what I was thinking and that was it.
It's what happens when I start thinking about others and not myself. I don't want to renegociate ties with my Dad's wife for example, because Dad lives in the house to and if I renegociate with her how is he going to react? How will my renegociations with her affect him? The straight answer of course, is not at all unless HE chooses to allow it to affect him and if he does I have no control over that for I can only control myself!
So how does this fit in with Michael May? It was a case of 'what would Michael May do here?' and I know the answer. The man runs full speed ahead, has always run full speed ahead and if I Desire to be like that I to MUST run full speed ahead!
For God's sake, the man drove a car when he was a kid!! A Datsun, and a Honda motor bike around his high school's track with another blind friend when he was 16.
We were at once raised similarly and completely opposite of each other.
I was told I could do anything I wanted, put in public schools, treated 'normally' by my parents. The outside world was a different story, but they treated me normally. But even they won't teach me how to drive, and even they never encouraged me to try out for anything. I'm not blaming, I never wanted to be a cheerleader anyway, though wrestling or karate would have been a fabulously Great outlet for my pent up anger!
My point though, is that they never would have said/did say: "Go run into benches, into other bike riders and make yourself a bloody mess."
Michael's mother did! Even if she didn't use her words, he was treated 'normally' and this was over 40 years ago and because of that, he still holds the record for the fastest blind downhill skiier *65 MPH* and he has made the jump to getting his sight back!
Though case studies have proven time and time again that depression is a huge stumbling block for those few who have sought out or regained their sight, that blind people who become sighted can't distinguish between a sphere and a cube by sight alone, or someone's gender and the like because those parts of the brain aren't the kind to keep regenerating if not used in early childhood, he ran with it and his sight was 20/80 at the time of the writing of this article!
I WANT to be like him, and if I want to be like him, I have no choice but to change my perspective, whether it's on a book that helps to call in love or a 26 year Herstory of hating on change!
It won't be easy, but I am bound and determined!!
If you would like to read Michael's story you can find it here!
http://www.esquire.com/features/ESQ0605BLIND_114?click=main_sr
--
Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
~ David Whyte ~ (House of Belonging)
Sadie Marie Medina!
Original birthdate unnone.
First birthday with us: 2/15/2009
Welcome home baby!

Week 1: Lesson 7, Creating A Space For Love

This posed a problem for me, so I reached out to my group asking for support.
Because this is an action step and not necessarily a 'writing step' the blog that follows is an excerpt of me asking for help and explaining WHY I need the help.
Welcome to my ever cluttered life!! Smile.
 I live with my Dad and am completely unsure of how
to complete the exercise of creating a space for love.
I'm wondering if you have any suggestions if you'd be willing to share?
Space is tight here and my family is not all welcoming and lovy-dovy.
 I wouldn't ever invite a love into this house. We're right on top
of each other, the family room is at one end of the house and the three
bedrooms are at the other end. My Dad and I share a wall, my other
wall connects to the bathroom and the bathroom wall connects to my
stepsisters' room. You can hear ANYTHING and EVERYTHING going on from
room to room. TV watching, music listening, bathing, you get the idea.
The second issue I have is that yes my room is cluttered because I do
everything in here. So there's a TV, a computer, two stereos, you get
the idea.
I have no room that I could move my computer and TV to.
This also means my room is cluttered. I've cleaned out what I could
and am in the process of throwing away or giving away what I don't
need. At the moment when you open my door and walk into my room the
right wall has a box of print papers and a bag of CD'S on top that
I've been meaning to get rid of, just waiting for someone to take me
to Goodwill to drop them off. Then there's a table with my food on it,
boxed and canned goods and my telephone. After that it's my computer
desk with my computer and my biggest stereo. Next to that is a box
with more print papers and a couple VHS tapes in it. The wall there
contains another skinny tall shelf with a few stuffed animals *my
faves, I boxed up the rest of them*, my toiletries and the like. Next
to that is my dresser with my TV and DVD player on top. Next to that
is my closet and next to that a coat rack. Then there's a wall with my
bed against it. That wall also has a window. Finally my last wall
contains the head of my bed, my nightstand with my microwave and my
baby stereo on top of that. Next to that is my CD shelf and my bedroom
door.
Needless to say, I think you get the idea of just how cluttered things
are. So getting two nightstands or a double bed would be nearly
impossible, even if I had the money for those items. Smile. I already
store everything including food and toiletries in my room so I'm not
sure about buying pairs of coco mugs or even towels. I'd have nowhere
to put them but in my dresser. Smile. I would think this wouldn't make
them out and welcoming.
The assignment is to in fact, prepare for love by putting things out in pairs, making room in your closet for another to put their things, etc.
Still waiting to hear back from some of the group, but I was about to put up Lesson 8 and thought I needed to put up lesson 7 first!! Lol.
Happy reading!
Again, thank you to anyone whose reading this, you are AWESOME!!