She Used To Be a Backseat Bumpkin

Reading A Persistent Muse's blog, I couldn't help but be reminded of my own precious daughter's wandering ways. When Paige was little, she kept a pink and purple backpack with her name embroidered on the front tucked away at the back of her closet with her favorite books, toys and other essentials she thought she might need to make her escape. She toted the bag on her back the first time she ran away to the corner. Standing apprehensively at the doorway, allowing her to spread her wings, I was thankful when she finally turned homeward.

"Where did you think you were going," her father questioned her.

"Anywhere!" Paige replied adamantly, "Away from here!"

Many times she traveled with me as my backseat bumpkin, like the times I took her to Chicago and told her we were in Ireland. We sang Irish songs all the way... "Too-Ra-Loo- Ra-Loo-Ral" and "I'll tell my ma when I get home, the boys won't leave the girls alone!" Then, there were the trips to St. Louis when I told her we were in Italy. I'd take her to the park and over to The Hill for spaghetti. A simple trip across town could be to France!

"Bonjour!" we'd say to people in the park.

"Bonjour," they'd reply. Granted, when she finally took geography in grade school it posed a small problem, but nothing she couldn't get over.

When she was in sixth grade, our family was transferred to Switzerland. Her dreams came true as we toured castles, skied the Alps, climbed the Eiffel Tower and pretended we were Monet in the South of France. I thought it was a once in a lifetime experience, and for me, it was. Soon, we were back home in the United States and she was attending football games and proms, but little did I realize her wandering ways had only been magnified.

In what felt like a blink of an eye, she was packing for freshman year at college. I entered her room and noticed her shelves were practically empty. She dragged every suitcase from the basement and there they were, spread out all over her room, filled to capacity with books, trinkets, and every essential she thought she needed to make her escape.

"WHAT are you thinking?" I questioned.

She turned on a dime with tears in her eyes, "You don't get it, do you? I am NEVER coming back!"

"Of course, you are! Don't be ridiculous. You'll be home all the time and after school's over I'm sure you'll come home and look for work." I retorted.

I could not have been more wrong. Her senior year of college, she applied for the Peace Corps and moved to West Africa within three months of graduation. There, she lived in a hut with no running water and no electricity for over two years. After her stint in the Peace Corps, she traveled to Bali, Angkor Wot, Indonesia, Thailand and Singapore with her brother. I thought, now.... now she has seen the world and she'll come home for awhile. I reminisced about the travel games I played with her while she was growing up and realized they were a curse and a blessing. Soon she was engaged, stayed home long enough to plan a wedding and then she was off to California with her husband. Paige had been right, she was never coming back, not to stay anyway, again.

I assure you her wandering ways have not stopped. Paige and her husband traveled to China during the Olympics. After that, they flew to Germany for a rock climbing trip with his brother. Now, almost every weekend she can be found carrying an even larger backpack hiking or rock climbing in the mountains outside of Los Angeles or Las Vegas. This August, she and her husband are meeting her brother at Glacier National Park to hike for eight days.

I often wonder if Paige had a sixth sense about the path her life was going to take. I question if our travel games caused her wanderlust and if I would have changed them if only I had known. Yet, when I think of that little four year old girl standing on the corner with her pink and purple backpack, I know in my heart she had a plan and she stuck to it.

Paige called me last week from California. She's a little homesick and wants to come back the 2nd weekend of August. So, I will be waiting apprehensively in my doorway once again, thankful for the moment she walks up my driveway and turns down the sidewalk, homeward.

Hang Ten, Baby!!!

My nephew, aka The Stud, flew out to Los Angeles last week

to visit my daughter and learn to surf!

Here's her brother-in-law, my nephew, her husband

and a high school friend of my nephew. (cute, huh?)

Can you tell he was a line backer in college?

Getting ready to go!

And...... He's up!!

Then, drinking!

(that gorgeous blond is my daughter!)

And.... more drinking!

Which leads to this...

Next day, lunch at the same restaurant where Mel Gibson drank a wee bit too much,

just before he asked the nice policeman if he was a Jew.

And my personal favorite!!!

Diddy Riese!!

He flew back on a red eye flight Sunday night and arrived in Chicago safe and sound!

My daughter said they didn't sleep all weekend!

I love having kids! And I love that they have cousins they still play with, even as adults!

Many thanks to my sister for having such great sons!

I love you all!!

MOTHER FUCK!!!!!!

TWO MONTHS AGO:

Ex-husband: "I'm buying a condo in Florida, then heading back to Beijing."

Me: "Really? (wheels spinning) What are you going to do with it while you're in Beijing?"

Ex-husband: (looking at me like, oh God, here we go) "Yes, you can use it."

Me: (happy, happy, happy) "Cool! Thank you, can I go for two months? I can do some oil painting while I'm down there."

Ex-husband: "Yes, I'd rather have someone living there than have it sit empty."

~~~~~~~~~~

So, three weeks later, my son and his father head to Florida in a U-haul taking all of his earthly belongings that had been in storage for over a year waiting for him to retire. I cannot wait to take a vacation. Two years ago, my mother died. I've been helping to take care of my father, who has dementia, ever since. My son finally graduated from college and I am free! My sisters will help take care of Dad and I am so ready to blow this pop-stand! The real estate market has taken a crap so, I started tutoring at the local grade school, finally putting my degree to use. I have the summer off. What luck! Destiny! Serendipity!

~~~~~~~~~~

TWO WEEKS AGO:

Phone rings...

Ex-husband: "Lois?"

Me: "Bob!" (still in hog heaven about going to Florida!)

Ex-husband: "I'm sitting at the closing and I can't close on the condo."

Me: "Why not?" (thinking, this can't be good)

Ex-husband: "I got married after I made the offer and they need my wife to sign papers."

Me: "You got married?"

Ex-husband: "Call Michael (my cousin the Real Estate Attorney) and have him call me."

~~~~~~~~~

Well, needless to say, things went south. Yes, my 67 yr old ex, Bob, married a 40 yr old Asian woman, who is sitting back in China waiting for a Visa. The builder allowed Bob and Zach to move his things into the condo before closing. During closing, the agent called a locksmith to change all of the locks. All of his earthly goods now sit in boxes in the garage and the living room waiting to be unpacked and he couldn't get back in to do so. Bob takes the papers back to Beijing, makes an appointment at the American Embassy to have them notarized and mails them to the closing agent.

~~~~~~~~~

YESTERDAY:

E-mails...

Shunnedexwife@shit.com: "Well? Did you get the papers signed?"

Exhusband@livingoutmyporndreams.com: "Yes, we got them signed and the closing agent has received them." (end of message????)

Shunnedexwife@shit.com: "Great, then I can go in August after I get Zach moved into his new apartment in Chicago. Thanks!"

Exhusband@livingoutmyporndreams.com: "No, you can't. I want to unpack everything first before anyone goes down there."

Shunnedexwife@shit.com: "Uh, you couldn't tell me this before? When are you coming back from Beijing?"

NO REPLY!!!

MOTHER FUCK!!!!!!

Happy Graduation!!

He did it!!!

DePaul University

Bachelor's of Science

Chemistry

Dean's List

Continuing on to get his Master's in none other than

CHEMISTRY!!

Congratulations Zachary!

I am so proud of you!

xoxoxo

Hang On In There, Baby!

Woman in the Rain

by

Mariia Kouznetsova

I have a sister who is eight years older than myself. She was graced with a private school education, while I was not. Apparently my parents didn’t think it worked out so hot for her so, I was placed in public school. She wore a cool uniform with pleated skirts, jackets with emblems on the pockets and wore saddle shoes. I, on the other hand, looked like an orphan in dresses that seemed to need ironing and hair that went every which way. She had her own bedroom with a HUGE full-length mirror, a stereo and posters of Elvis. She would sit in front of that mirror for what seemed like hours and tease her hair until it stood up on end and then style it into a beehive. I was in awe. I had to share my bedroom with my two younger sisters. My sister walked a few blocks from home to catch the bus to her school. When it rained, my mother would get in her car, drive downtown and collect her. She did this faithfully. I took notice.

One particular day I remember staring out of the windows of my classroom watching it become more and more dark outside. By the time the bell rang for school to let out wind, rain, thunder, and even lightening filled my world! For whatever reason, I remember distinctly standing in the lobby of the school watching as other children’s mothers pulled up onto the playground then, their sons or daughters would make a made dash for the safety of their cars. My rescue never came.

Teachers walked by, “Lois? Why aren’t you going home?”

“My mom is coming to get me,” I assured them.

I heard snickers and talking behind my back, “She thinks her mother should come pick her up.” Giggle! Giggle!

I was not happy. I stood there until one of the teachers told me I absolutely had to go home. My reality was that my mother was not coming to pick me up and I was sent out into the storm alone. I ran. I ran like the wind as fast as I could. I was hurt. I was embarrassed. I remember crashing through the front door and into the living room. By this time, I was mad, so mad! My mother was sitting on the floor holding my youngest sister. I began yelling at her.

“Why didn’t you come get me! Can’t you see it’s raining! You always pick up Sandy! Everyone else’s mom’s came to get them, but you left me standing there!” Tears were pouring down my cheeks while I blurted the words out at her in a rage. The look on her face was one of shock.

“But, Lois,” she said, “you only live across the street.”

This was true. I only lived one house away from the school. Why I thought I should have been picked up is beyond me, but I remember the entire incident as if it were yesterday. Why? Did I think she loved Sandy more than me? Did I want to be like the other kids whose parents cared enough to drive up to the school to get them? Was I that spoiled or was being the child in the middle making me crazy?

I’m not sure what the answer is, but lately I feel I am back in that same position again. I need help getting across the street. I haven’t posted for awhile. I’m busy taking care of my father whose mind is slowly leaving him. He talks to his brother Dale, who has been dead for fifteen years. He doesn’t remember taking his morning pills that I stood there and spoon-fed him. He doesn’t want to eat. My older sister is housebound now, unable to drive anywhere. I check on her, too.

My ex-husband recently remarried, something I didn’t think would ever happen. He’s 67 and his new wife is 42 and waiting for her visa from China. He didn’t have the nerve to tell me, even though I saw him face to face just a week after his nuptials. He’d come home to settle his mother’s estate. The gutless SOB left it up to my son to give me this news. While he was in town he had a doctor appointment to see if he could get his vasectomy reversed. He can’t. I’m thrilled.

I went back to work for the first time in years. I’m tutoring at the school across the street from my father’s home where he lives alone now since my mother’s death two years ago. The same school where I stood fifty years ago, waiting for her to come pick me up in the rain. I visit my father every day for lunch and after school. Some days I still have trouble crossing the street.

Light A Candle For Kate Puzey

As most of my readers know, my daughter lived in Togo, West Africa for over two years as a Peace Corps Volunteer teaching HIV/AIDS education and helping to build wells for clean water. She lived in the country during a time when over 40,000 people literally walked out when the president of the country died. She lived by a border and witnessed child trafficking on a daily basis and was unable to stop it. Kate Puzey lived in Benin, West Africa as a Peace Corps Volunteer after my daughter's term was up. She tried to stop child trafficking and it cost Kate her life. Please read my post, light a candle and complete a day's service in honor of Kate. Please do this for yourself, in honor of Kate and her friends and family, and for children all over the world who are not safe in their own homes.




Peace Corps Family,

One year ago we lost Kate Puzey, a volunteer serving in Badjoude to a senseless act of violence. As we mourn her death on March 11th we need to also celebrate her life and what it stood for.

At Kate's funeral, many were moved at how amazing her family was and even in her death how they still stressed the importance of her service.

As PCVs it is now our obligation to continue in her honor. Pick a day or even, an hour, in or around the 11th and commit to continue the legacy Kate did her entire life. Please feel free to mention how and where you will be making such a commitment on the wall below.

Also, if you would like to make a monetary donation, please consider her commemorative fund through Peace Corps Benin. You will find further instructions on the wall as well.

Finally, Kate's family is also planning a way for us to memorialize her around the world. Please take a look at the youtube video linked below.

From Facebook


Light A Candle For Kate Puzey





Slain Peace Corps Volunteer's Family Speaks

Atlanta Peace Corps Volunteer Killed In Africa

CUMMING, Ga. -- Kate Puzey’s parents have endured a year of heartache. They lost their daughter under tremendously difficult circumstances, and felt they couldn’t get the answers they needed about her death.

Kate was the kind of daughter any family would be proud of: positive in spirit, a quiet leader (student council president twice), and a citizen of the world who wanted to affect change by helping people hand in hand. She chose the Peace Corps and committed to two years as an English teacher in the west African nation of Benin.
Her connection to her students was evident in the photographs her family shared with Channel 2 Action News reporter Linda Stouffer. Harry Puzey, her father, told Stouffer, “They loved her, and she loved them.”
But two months before her homecoming, on March 11, 2009, she was killed.

For the past year the Puzey’s have struggled to understand the circumstances. They have also kept details quiet, out of tremendous respect for the Peace Corps and the legal process underway in Benin. However, now they are speaking out, to draw attention to her courage and life of service.
Lois Puzey said Kate believed several students had been sexually exploited by a local national employee. Kate apparently struggled with how best to handle the situation, then decided to anonymously report her suspicious. Lois told Stouffer, “The students and the teachers came to her and said can you help us here to try to do something, and in doing that, she put herself in harm’s way. Within a few days of her anonymously trying to get the word out to the right authorities, she was murdered.”
Kate’s parents are just back from a whirlwind series of meetings in Washington, D.C. They are trying to be “Kate’s voice” through a difficult process. They hope to see a conviction in local courts in Benin, but they also want the Peace Corps to be, in Lois’ words: “The Peace Corps Kate believed in: one that’s transparent, efficient and respects and protects and empowers their volunteers.”
The Peace Corps would not provide details of the death of their volunteer. They told Stouffer in an e-mail “The investigation into the death of Kate Puzey is ongoing. The Department of State, the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the Beninese government are collaborating on this investigation.”
Kate’s parents believe several men are in custody, including the man she anonymously accused. Lois Puzey plans to attend the trial in Benin, which she thinks will take place in November.
In the meantime, Kate’s friends and family are circulating loving tributes… through YouTube and Facebook. Several hundred people have committed to a day of service in her honor.
“She was an absolute joy for us from the day she was born until the day she died. I called her my sunshine girl,” Lois Puzey said.

http://www.wsbtv.com/news/22798759/detail.html

While I'm Getting Ready For The Travel Channel To Find Me....

I believe in signs. Not just the usual "OMG! You are headed into snake skin curves!" or "Yo! Look out for crazy falling rocks that might hit your car and send you careening off into a ditch" signs. No, I believe in signs from God! or The Universe... whichever you prefer. I believe that if you pay attention or listen hard enough, you will be given answers to your questions. Now, these answers don't always come in ways that you would expect them and they don't always come when you want them, but sooner or later.... you get your answer.



I was sitting at my dining room table yesterday, thinking of my poor deceased mother. "Damn you! You secretly knew Dad was going to turn out like this so you died first," I berated her, even though I couldn't see her. I pondered this statement as I looked out my window and BAM! A cardinal flew into the bushes and stared at me for a good 5 minutes. I knew it was her! Or at least her spirit come to haunt me. She had a thing about cardinals and redbirds. "The first sign of Spring," she always said.

My phone rang. My good friend and life coach, Tori, invited me to her yoga class, reminding me that I need a break and I knew a few deep breaths would do me good. Let's face it, if one is going to be the star of a new travel show, (read previous post) they should probably be in good traveling shape! Please, sit back and let me share this wonderful experience with you.



Heading Om Yoga Studio



















Our fabulous yoga instructor, Tammy Mitchell


All relaxed now! Sorry, Mom..... oh, and thanks for the invite, Tori! (I think Mom must have whispered in her ear, don't you?)