His eyes were wide and panicked, darting everywhere, never pausing until I cleared my throat and parted my lips to speak. He focuses on me, his Sea-Foam blue eyes piercing me to my very soul. For a brief moment, I was rendered speechless. My throat dry, the words clung to the tip of my tongue, unwilling to exit my mouth. I felt my heart shatter and fall like shards of heavy, broken pottery to my stomach.
"I'm so sorry beloved, I know it's hard and I wish I could go with you", I gently cooed as I held his trembling hand in mine.
I could feel the tendons in the back of his scarred hands; flex-pause-release. The tension in the air was palatable; the cacophony of voices continually diverting his attention.
"He's scanning again," I thought to myself, "this must be a bad episode."
His head remained stationary, but his eyes were never still.
I squeezed his hand and gently said his name, "David-"
His focus returns
"Where were you?", I inquire, looking deep into his eyes, willing him to stay present.
"I was over there again" he whispers, sadness sliding across his pained face. His leg begins to bounce, the motion reverberating up his body shaking the table. I become acutely aware of the stickiness of it's surface, the pint glasses leaving a sweat rings. He lets go of my hand and begins to toy with his glass, then raises it to his lips and takes a long drink. His movements are slow, like molasses on a cold winter's day. He sets the glass down, a 1/4 inch remaining in the bottom and looks at me with that smirk; trying to change the mood he says,
"For the Angels"
I look at him, concern gnawing at the edges of my mind. I'm a "fixer", it's what I have done since I was very little and this is one of the few times that I couldn't fix it. I had to just stand by and bear witness, watch the flashbacks take the man I love and twist him into knots. All I wanted to do was make it all go away. I would shoulder this burden if it meant that his pain would dissipate.
Life with a disabled combat vet is ever changing, fraught with highs and lows. Hyper-vigilance, perceived threats when there are none, and when flashbacks hit, a disconnectedness that is hard to penetrate. I always know where I stand with David, his fierce loyalty and need to always protect me and our children is a sense of security I had never felt until I met him.
Like many writers, I struggle with writing from time to time. It can be anything from just getting started, to tackling a subject that may be difficult to deal with. I knew I wanted to explore the subject of failure, but just couldn't figure out HOW to approach it so I utilized a technique I learned 5+ years ago in a writing workshop; list making. Armed with my trusty fountain pen, I scribbled across the top of my notepad: "Things I've failed at; monumental or insignificant," and let the ink fly for about 5-10 minutes. What I was not prepared for, was what came of it what came next:
My balance is a huge FAIL; I trip over my own two feet now!
My memory sucks
I lose my words/forget what I’m saying in the middle of a sentence, A LOT
My vision is failing/night vision is SHOT
My body is failing me since I fell so my anxiety is pretty much never in check.
I fail at dealing with my *NEW* limitations
I failed at remembering my meds
I fail at advocating for myself
I fail at respecting my boundaries/saying no
I lost my patience again today
I fail at keeping my mouth shut (arguments)
I fail at staying motivated/quit too easily (I suck at sticking with things)
I suck at keeping in touch
I failed at being an adult for far too long
I failed at kindness
I failed at being a good daughter
I failed at being a good wife
I failed at being a good mother
I failed at being a better disciplinarian
I failed at following my dreams
I failed at following through with almost everything I start
I fail at having self confidence
I fail at making decisions
After making the list I still had ZERO idea where to even start writing! So, after much ruminating, I returned to my notes from the same seminar and came across an idea I had yet to explore; utilizing a different structure all together: police blotter, want ad, journal entry, and several others. Ah-Ha, Journal Entry and the recurrent theme(s) that stuck out for me; follow through/quitting, so here goes!
7/2008 Dear Diary, Today is going to be different! I know... I've said that before, but THIS time I really mean it! I have an interview with New York Life & it's actually lunch with one of the partners! I'll let you know how it goes, G2G, I need to make myself look Gorge!
7/2008 Dear Diary, Well, the interview was lunch at Fruit & Salad company in Victor and it was AWESOME! Tim was really sweet and he got a kick out of my irreverent flirty personality. He even said from now on because of my last name (Zingg) & personality he is going to call me "Sparky"! LOL I know, it made me laugh too! So much better that the nick names from grade school & high school huh? Any-who, I have an appointment to meet him again at the General Office to do all of my paperwork, start the process for a background check, etc. I'm sooo psyched, I'm going to be an insurance agent and make LOTS of money! Screw Brian & his disparaging remarks about me not making it! TTYL
8/2008 Dear Diary, Wow, my insurance classes are ROUGH! Buuuuuut, I'm the only female, so it's a much better environment than I'm use to. UGH, none of the petty BS because someone thinks my skirt is too short or too long, my hair isn't right, etc. Lots of compliments everyday and the ball-busting amongst us is fantastic!
9/2008 Dear Diary, I'm DONE! I can't friggin do this anymore! I have tons of appointments but never close a feckin' sale! I haven't made shit & I'm actually losing money with all of the driving I'm doing! Screw this, I'm going to apply with Verizion Wireless- I heard they have a lot of paid holidays and paid time off. Oooooo and 1/2 off my cell phone bill too!
9/2008 Dear Diary, I had my interview & skills test w/VZW and it went GREAT! I will be in the call center and work 2:30-11. Woo-Hoo no more early mornings except to get the kids to school! I think I've found my new "home" we shall see!
12/2008 Dear Diary, I've made it through classroom training and it wasn't too bad, the instructors are hilarious & told us about the "ladder of success" we can climb- Manager/Team Leader here I come! Oooooo & I get 1/2 off my cellphone bill, not to mention all of the PAID time off we get!
6/2009 Dear Diary, Well this sucks
I've struggled with "adulting" for the better part of 30 years and though I did my best to inject a little levity to the above "journal," I'm sure you can ascertain that 'Adulting' was not my forte 15+ years ago, and quite honestly I still struggle with it from time to time. I've done a lot of "internal work" over the years and have come to realize that the growing pains most of us go through during our 20's; discovering who we are, finding our path in life, learning to be independent from our parents, etc. is something I was never afforded.
I was married at 23, and was pregnant soon afterwards, then again 4 years later. I was a stay at home mom for the majority of that marriage, but it was not by choice; I wasn't allowed to hold a full time job until I finally left him. I know what some of you might be thinking: "You're complaining?", "You get to stay home & don't have to work!" , or "He is supporting you!"
However, I think you missed the most important word "allowed." I wanted to work, I wanted to contribute to our little family and was not afforded the opportunity. Granted, I was able to go to cosmetology school & get my license (eventually) but he made it exceedingly difficult to maintain a job. Fights, accusations of not caring about our child(ren), suddenly having to work a double (later found out it was 100% voluntary & he actually requested the extra hours), and many more manufactured reasons he created for me to call in "sick".
Fast-forward 13 years-
I finally had enough of the control, the lies, the terror, the abuse. I was tired of living like a virtual prisoner in my own life and needed to reclaim my freedom, so I filed for divorce, left Washington state, and moved back to Western, New York. Little did I realize, it wasn't that simple-
I had been out of the job market for over a decade and was armed with nothing more than a fart in the wind associates; did I mention I was 37 and had never held a full-time job before?!? There was no one to guide me or help me navigate this new "normal," I was just expected to already know these things "at my age," yet I felt like a child compared to my contemporaries.
I already mentioned NYLife and VZW, but what you don't know is that I had FIVE more jobs (another call center, bookkeeping, hairdresser, pool store, telemarketing, repair scheduler) before I started to figure things out and went back to school for dental assisting and held 3 more jobs after that!. That's a grand total of ELEVEN jobs in 12 years! Translation- I bounced around A LOT, with no clue as to what I should be doing or wanted to do for that matter. I was making it up as I went along and just trying to survive & provide the best I could without a good example to draw from, let alone a healthy role-model to emulate. It's been 15 years since I left and I'm still trying to find my way and figure it out, but could that be the wrong approach or mindset? Tom Clancy once said: "There are two kinds of people: the ones who need to be told, and the ones who figure it out all by themselves."
Instead, maybe I need to take George Bernard Shaw's words to heart: "Life isn't about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself."
I need to stop looking for that elusive path, and just start creating!
What do you love or are currently working towards and does it bring you joy? DARE to dream BIG and follow your heart!
#LoveAndie
10/27/2018 My father giving my son the following advice: “Do what you love and you will never work a day in your life!”
Think of a place and time that has deeply affected who you are today. Mine was Kindergarten...
"Okay boys and girls, it’s just about time to go home for the day. Find your cubby, gather your things and line up," Mrs. Eddington chirped.
My classmates scampered for the cubbies; shiny birch shelves, labeled with their names written in black magic-marker, on autumn leaves cut from construction paper. The shine of the freshly-polished linoleum tiles, quickly scuffed as tiny little feet, shod in brand-new “Buster-Brown’s” shuffled over its surface.
The chattering like a banditry of chickadees, was generally brought under control with the kindergarten teacher’s admonishment, “Shh, shh, shhhh, quiet please or you will scare the angels.”
I lingered and took my time, noticing the tap-tip, tap-tip, my foot falls made in the hand-me-down, black, patent-leather shoes. I gathered the papers from my cubby, the ruffles of my dress swished as I turned on my heel to follow my classmates to the heavy blue door.
We lined up and fell silent after the teacher raised her hand. “Where’s my firecracker?”
I slowly made my way to the front of the line; tap-tip, tap-tip, lost in my 5-year-old thoughts.
“Boys and girls, Andrea’s birthday was the Fourth of July so we are going to let her be the head of the line today. Come here Annie,”
I flinched after hearing the dreaded nickname she had given me when I was three and knew the comments from my classmates would soon follow.
“Little Orphan Annie, Annie Bananie, and Bananie Head” were whispered as I walked past.
“Ladies first today Mr. Albrecht.”
I looked up and Scott Albrecht gave me stink eye, then crossed his arms because he had been first all day.
“We are going to pretend today is your special day,” Mrs. Eddington cooed, then placed a pink construction paper crown on my head.
I dreaded leaving that happy little bubble. Colors and shapes, laughter and joy, filled the sky-blue room. Construction paper clouds dangled from multi-colored strands of yarn across the ceiling. The smell of mimeograph ink wafted from the sheaf of papers I clutched in my chubby little hand. The bell halted my classmates teasing for the day, but anxiety soon took over. I knew what waited for me at home; anger, chaos, violence. The door to the ugly world outside, slowly creaked open to reveal exuberant parents waiting on the sidewalk below. I slowly descended the weather worn, concrete steps. Gingerly grasping the metal railing, the texture felt oddly calming; peaks and valleys, like a topographical map from decades of chipping paint, repeatedly glossed over, coat after coat. The air was crisp, but the warm, bright sun lessened the chill with that perfect temperature only an Indian Summer in early September could provide. I remember thinking that no one was going to be waiting at the bottom of the stairs to walk me home, much less, be that happy to see me. When my little foot touched the sidewalk and I looked up, there he was, standing with his hands clasped behind his back apart from the other adults. Tall and stoic with his round, gold, wire-framed glasses, white ball cap, and ever-present flannel shirt, he always smelled of Old Spice and WintergreenCopenhagen and was the one person that made me feel safe and happy and- loved.
"Grandpa," I squealed, running as fast as my five-year-old, little, legs could carry me up the sidewalk.
He smiled, gave me a gentle hug, then took my pink school bag, which looked Lilliputian in his strong weathered 84-year-old hands.
Slowly, we made our way home in silence; the leaves crunching under our shoes was the only conversation we needed.
Think of a time when you had to choose or make a major decision -
Is it time for a new car, if so what do I get? Should you place an offer on that house you've been eyeing? Contemplating quitting or changing jobs, Is it too late to change careers? I don't know about you, but I've had to make so many decisions in my life, many of which didn't always turn out the way I had hoped or anticipated. Maybe it's a failure schema or the old "once bitten twice shy" but as a result I tend to ruminate far longer than is necessary and end up in a vicious cycle of analysis-paralysis! The following is a peek at one of my decisions-
"Should you?"
--Inwardly thinking-- Remember how you felt when '"that idea" popped into your head for the 287th time? It always started as a small spark that you entertained momentarily, then quickly extinguished and buried. Here it is again, this time loud, like the shattering of glass; pieces falling to the floor with each new detail.
"How are you gonna pay the bills?" *Crrr-ack*!
"Will you even be able to cut it?" *Cr-aaashhh*!
I go to the familiar website and re-read the information for the umpteenth time..
"High school diploma; well DUH, I have an associates." I mutter..
"Full-Time 5-6 months, excellerated. I think the program at MCC was a slower pace and 12 months!"
The thought of not working for a year possibly more, fills me with dread and panic.
"5-6 months it is." Eye-roll. "Entrance Assessment, what in the actual Fuck? I haven't taken a test in 25 years!" I reach for the glass of wine and take a long slow swallow,
Looking at the glass, "Sorry liquid courage, it looks like we're headed for a break-up, I have to tighten my belt."
I click the hyperlink "Registration"
"What am I doing?!?" I inwardly scream.
I finally took the plunge and decided to go back to school.
"5 months full-time?" I do the math and realize with my meager savings, I can "survive" maybe another 3 months while I look for a job.
That old familiar voice taunts me, tries to stop me-- "You're not smart enough!", "Who are you kidding Andie, you're gonna flunk-out", "Do you remember how long it took you to get your Associates?", "Even IF you did complete this program, no one will hire you!", "Think about all of the younger guys/gals that will graduate when you do.", "You'll never make it, you're going to quit".
I take another slug of wine, the dry warmth slides over my tongue, and down my throat warming as it goes. The negative internal dialogue burns away as it continues downward. Setting the glass of wine down, I forge ahead.
"I'm entering a program that will challenge my brain, could potentially be grueling, but I've always liked a challenge, I freaking thrive on them."
Triumphantly, I hit "submit"
#LoveAndie
Eastman Dental; Dental Assisting School Internship 6/12/2014It’s Official!
“Here and there, a towering, lonely figure never cries defeat”
“Autobiography of a Yogi” Paramahansa Yogananda pg 49, line 6
Here and there, a towering, lonely figure never cries, they just hold it all in. Trudging through life, going through the motions, never pausing to-- just let it out, let it go. I want to shout at all of them,
"drop the rope, just drop the fucking rope. You need to feed your heart and soul first! "
Maybe I would get through to some one- I try to center again by focusing on the tickle of the cool verdant grass on my unshod feet, but I can feel it threatening, to swallow me up. Like dirty dishwater colored Oobleck, it advances slowly, seeping into everything in its path. Right before my eyes, the volume of colors, sounds, smells, creation is muted leaving a dull hum of regret, sadness, resignation in its wake. Silencing grey-goo threatens my slice of Solace. I choose not to succumb but instead, to throw my heart & soul wide open and smile! Wiggling my toes in the grass, I stand and twirl! Young & old, rich & poor, every glorious shade of humanity-- I smile at them all! The gray goo halts, a genuine smile from a passerby, impales it! A tutu clad little girl begins to spin, unbridled laughter explodes from her dad, the goo tries to retreat,
"Mon, dadee, pin wif me peas"
It is stopped dead in its tracks as the dad stands-
"POOF!" the Oobleck disappears as the father scoops up his daughter and spins!
Squirrels scamper, birds chirp, lovers love-. Collective sadness is supplanted by joy. Loud laughing, squealing, trilling, kissing, joyful, peace returns- I am whole again.
He sits quietly on the couch, looking at me – no, searing my soul. His sea-foam blue eyes devouring my every gesture, expression, sigh; memorizing it. I look down at my journal and can feel all of his thoughts and emotions boring into me, branding me. I will never be the same again, I am to blame, but it's all his fault. Just when I thought I had recovered, and we were back to status quo, he does it again- That look; burning my heart, charting it with so much intensity, it transmutes my broken, jagged edges. Slowly softening, like pieces of frit under the watchful eye of a conservative artist. Melting, adding silvers & golds, blending; new, radiant colors emerge. Raw materials transform, become glorious aurenes & galaxies of color. Only ashes litter the floor now. All the broken shards, discarded by ghosts, amateurs feigning artistic heights unobtainable by "mere mortals" are incorporated. That burning look which brands my very core – anneals all of the discarded pieces.
"What?" he queries.
"Nothing Babe." I whisper
"I love you Princess." he smiles. My heart explodes.
October 9, 2010 Corning, NY; Lamp-work bead making seminar.
I fully intended on going to my writing workshop tonight, but this crazy thing called getting a kidney stone in SOUTH CAROLINA, derailed my plans. Why was I in South Carolina you may ask? Well, I was meeting my biological family for the first time! AND here comes the adoption themed post...
It all started with an "AncestryDNA" test I purchased June 2015. I cowboy'd up the $99+ s/h, took a leap of faith and waited the 7-10 days for it to arrive. The days on the calendar sauntered by Then, lo and behold there it was, a package from Ancestry! After the initial excitement dissipated, I noticed how small the box was and thought,
"This Lilliputian box was going to unlock ALL of the secrets that were kept from me for the last 44 years?"
I removed the shrink-wrap and inspected the contents and couldn't help but feel- shocked? I honestly thought there would be more to it, more vials, more chemicals, more instructions, more packaging, more- I don't know, stuff? Instead I found: - An instruction sheet with my unique tracking code - Small, plastic, test-tube & cap with some sort of funnel doohickey to attach to the top - Teeny amount of blue liquid to add to said vial; possibly a stabilizer/preservative - Plastic ziplock for spit filled test-tube & Prepaid/return postage box Didn't they know that this was a potentially, life altering, BIG freakin' deal?!? They, were going to answers all of the questions I've had running through my mind for the better part of 4 decades!
"Deep breath Andie, let's see how this works."
Munching on some dried mango, I pulled out the instructions and began to read,
"Do not eat, drink or smoke for 30 mins prior to providing sample" I stopped mid chew "SERIOUSLY?!?" *eye roll*
I put the bag on the coffee table and set a timer on my cell. I picked up the instructions and finished reading through them.
"Looks like I have to register the kit, might as well do that while I wait."
I opened the website and went through all of the required steps, then *tried* to start a family tree. I could feel the anger building in me as I sat there; I was able to add myself, the kids & their father and that's about it. Little did I know in that moment just how long it would take before I could add anyone else to that sad, little "tree". My phone began to chirp, startling me out of my negative thoughts.
"Here goes nuthin'" I muttered to myself. "I can't believe spitting into a little vial and sending it off to some lab could possibly give me what I've only dreamt about. 6-8 weeks and my results will be ready?" I thought with a high level of skepticism.
Fast forward 4 weeks, and BOOM my results were ready! I opened my laptop, fired up the website, and there was a few hundred "4th cousin or closer" matches.
"HOLY CRAP, I have a few HUNDRED relatives I never knew about! A few hundred possibilities of finding my parents" I thought to myself.
I began combing through all of the information and discovered that I had no idea how to even sort all of these matches! There was no way to ascertain whether they were maternal or paternal relatives. I liken it to walking through a grove of aspen trees and being tasked with the job of picking up all of the fallen leaves and matching them to not only the right tree, but the right limb and branch and correct spot on that branch. It was all so overwhelming; I stared blankly at the page and cried. I was so incredibly happy that I had all of these family members right in front of me, but I also had no idea who they were or how we were related.
I sent message after message to other members that were a genetic match, and plead my case;
"DNA says we are related, so Hi Cousin?" "I'm adopted and looking for some help in figuring out how we are related/connect. I would like to build my family tree and figure out who I am, where I came from, and finally be able to give my children their history/roots."
I hit a lot of dead ends, and had a lot of well intentioned people telling me to request my original birth certificate. They had no clue that New York is a closed record state, so that information is not available to me. All I had was non-identifying information from the adoption agency.
Fast Forward again... A 4th cousin match reached out and we began to message each other. We found that we had a connection almost immediately; we had so many parallels in our lives. After a few months of emails, and phone conversations we started making plans to possibly meet in person. Our schedules were compared and it looked like May would be a great time to visit. Darroch & I would drive to Milford, PA to meet our cousins. To think it would be the first time since I was born that I would be in the same room as blood relations. The enormity of it all was overwhelming at times.
Rae and her mom Karen came to the hotel we were staying at and it was all tears from me. Many take for granted the simple act of hugging a relative, and think nothing of it. This was the first time aside from my children that I was hugged by MY family, my blood, my kin. We noticed right off the bat the resemblance, it was uncanny! Granted, we are only 4th cousins (we share a Great, Great, Great Grandparent) but it was just so striking how the mannerisms, personality and so many other traits were shared between all of us. THEN, we met more family; to be specific, Rae's son who looked so much like mine son that is was almost freaky! It was an incredible Memorial Day weekend full of so much love and acceptance.
You've probably been wondering how a trip to Pennsylvania in May of 2015, a Kidney stone & South Carolina October 2018 comes into my missing week 2 of "Voices & Visions"... I'm getting to that now *wink*.
Fast Forward one last time to June 2018, and I'm doing my best to live my life, and deal with this shitty kidnapping called Breast Cancer. Just like any other random day of the week, I would open the app for the DNA site to check and see if I had any new matches.
"900+ 4th cousin or better matches?!? Wow, this is crazy!" I whisper to myself.
I start to scroll past my children's results then see I not only have a first cousin match, but she has messaged me; Sydney M. from South Carolina! We began messaging and comparing the story I have about my "beginnings" with her various family members. After much back and forth, she and her mom lead me to how we are connected; her uncle is my father! These two amazing women solved the riddle I had longed for my entire life, Here it was, another instant, undeniable connection I had never felt before. A sense of belonging washed over me as our "email" conversations went on. Then I got the HUGE blessing of talking to my Aunt Elise (Sydney's mother, my father's sister) on the phone. I will never forget one of the first things she said to me,
"To deny you, would be to deny ALL of my nieces and nephews, and I just can't do that. I love you Andie"
The emotions that washed over me were indescribable. Not only did I have a cousin and an Aunt that wanted to know me, but they loved **ME**, broken, rejected, discarded me. It was the balm I didn't know my soul needed until that call.
As I continued to recover from surgery (bilateral mastectomy) and mentally prepare for chemo, our conversations led to when we should meet. Sadly, we came to the realization that our "reunion" would have to wait until after all rounds of chemo were completed and I got the thumbs up from my oncologist due to my compromised immune system. In the meantime, it would give my father some time to get use to all of this. Margot (bio-mom), never told my him about me so this was a HUGE shock that he had to process before he was ready to have any kind of contact. I completely understood, and never wanted to disrupt anyone's life, I just wanted answers and to know what was denied me, my entire life.
Then the day came... I got to hear my father's voice for the first time, just after my first chemo infusion. We had been emailing each other for a couple of weeks, and I think we both felt confident enough to have a phone conversation! Hearing his voice was music to my ears; the gentle drawl, the tone of his voice, and his snarky sense of humor all melded together into this voice that I could not get enough of. I loved this man & I had yet to meet him. He never knew of my existence but he was willing to take this journey with me and see where it leads. We decided upon upon the end of October, since it would be 6 weeks after my last round of treatment and my immune system would be in good enough shape for the trip.
The big day came, October 25th. We left Rochester and drove 12 hours to South Carolina to meet MY family! My Amazing Aunt was so generous and hosted us in her home for the duration of our stay. To say it was the most amazing 5 days of my life, would be a gross understatement! I met my Aunt Elise first, and she is a pistol! I now know where my personality comes from.
"You come by it honestly", she would reply when I would notice another shared trait.
I can't put into words what that first meeting was like. So many emotions, feelings, thoughts; I felt such deep, abiding love for this woman and so much love & acceptance in return. I had "come home" and returned to the fold. I no longer felt so- alone. The next day, I got to meet my father Sid and my 1/2 sister Emily. The mannerisms are uncanny! One thing that David & Darroch picked up on right away was the way Emily & I both begin to tear up, it's the same exact facial expression! The sense of humor between Dad, Emily & I is just remarkable, and we share so many traits. My big, blue eyes for instance are a family trait. We spent most of the day Friday enjoying each other's company, getting to know each other, and capped it off with dinner out. It was such an amazing first meeting.
The next day (Saturday) the five of us spent time exploring the area; we saw the neighborhood(s) where my Dad, Aunt & Uncle grew up, their old stomping grounds, then a trip to the family cemetery. Some may think this was an odd excursion, but to me it was like walking through a history book. I saw the graves of family members who were Confederate Soldiers, their wives, their children. I saw my direct lineage right there in front of me in 3D, I couldn't choke back the tears any longer.
My family came over on the Mayflower, they signed the Mayflower Compact, they fought in the Revolutionary War, War of 1812, the Mexican-American War, the War of Aggression (Civil war), and almost every war since. I even have a relative (through marriage) that was responsible for opening Japan to the West with the Convention of Kanagawa in 1854 (Commodore Perry). I was standing amongst people of character, principles, honor, who made history. These were my ancestors, I walked amongst them, and I was humbled.
Sunday we had a "Southern Family Dinner", and met even more family members! Uncle Butler, Aunt Grier (Dad's brother & Sister-In-Law), their children & grandchildren, and finally Sydney who's DNA kit was the reason we were all gathered. When I say she is Sunshine in human form, I mean it. Her eyes hold her mother's mischievous glint, that dance when they smile, and is the epitome of a Southern Young Lady. I can't wait to meet her sister Carson; a gal that is not far from her mountain bike and I suspect she shines when she is with Mother Nature. I slept so well that night and it might have been the best night of sleep I've ever had. I felt safe, protected and finally loved unconditionally.
We were all packed and ready to leave the next morning (10/29/18) when I woke up in the worst pain I had ever felt in my lifetime. This pain was worse than childbirth or my bilateral mastectomy! David, Aunt Elise & Darroch were worried it was my appendix so 911 was called, an ambulance came & I was carted off to the local hospital and was treated for.... you guessed it, a Kidney Stone! By the time I was released, it was too late to head home and we were all exhausted from the stress, so ended up staying an additional night, THEN drove home the next morning. The journey back to NY was filled with remembered moments, family trait comparisons, and happy tears. Suffice it to say, it was a beautiful beginning to a story 47 years in the making.
Was there a time when you were a part of something fast, powerful, bigger than yourself? I decided to take a trip down memory lane and write about an event that I initiated and it made national news. It was covered on all of the "Big 3" networks, William LaJeunesse from FOX News paid me a visit and did an in depth interview with me. Range Magazine devoted multi-page spreads in several successive issues, Time magazine & The Wall Street Journal covered it. Michael Savage spoke about it on his show, along with so many other personalities up and down the West Coast and Eastward; even my Biological Father had heard about it in North Carolina (little did he know his daughter was at the center of it all). Then President Bush, even created a cabinet position to deal with it. This was my moment of Civil Disobedience, my moment in the Sun:
"HEADGATES" The irrigation ditches were dry, mud hardened into clay and cracking.
A little defiant voice squeaked from the backseat, "What are you going to do mommy?"
The water had been shut off to 1500 farmers and ranchers; the people who fed our country were struggling to feed their own families. There was no indication that the situation would be remedied any time soon and it would seem Teagan somehow knew. Little did this precocious 4 yr old know, something big, was about to happen.
It was June 2001, a week before my 30th birthday and the Klamath Basin was in the midst of a water crisis and something had to be done. I got on the phone and called the one person who had any pull, who people knew and asked him if I could use his good name for what I was about to do. Not only did my Father-In-Law John Zingg agree, but he gave me names and numbers of people who would jump on board this act of "civil disobedience"
July 4th, 2001 is a day that made history in the sleepy little town of Klamath Falls, Oregon. A transplanted New Yorker decided to do something about the plight that befell the town she now called home. A crowd of approximately 300 people gathered at the "head-gates" where the water from Klamath Lake is normally diverted and sent through a series of canals to feed farms, ranches & a wildlife preserve which is home to over 200 species of animals. The water had been shut off in the name of the ESA and a fish that is know to live quite comfortable in a mud puddle.
The local TV news crews stood by. The air was electric with anticipation. With almost overwhelming excitement, I stood before the throng of people, stomach churning, and began to speak. A hush fell over the crowd, the only sounds to be heard were the Grebes, cicadas and my voice.
"Good Afternoon Everyone! Thank you f..." A faint metallic "clink" interrupted my speech.
Eyes widened, ears pricked up and heads began to turn towards the chain-link fence behind them. A fence that separated them from the precious, now empty, irrigation canal system. Slowly bodies turned and began moving away from the gal in the American Flag hat and Red, White & Blue shirt. One by one at first, they tentatively filed through the gate. The cacophony of raucous laughter and exuberant cheering immediately filled the silence.
I stood for a moment, transfixed by the activity; Men and Women were making it happen, they were actually opening the sluice gates and letting the water flow! I realized it was the 3rd time in less than a week that someone "broke in" to the area surrounding "A" Canal head gates and opened the sluices.
As I scooped up my infant son Darroch and held Teagan's hand, I whispered, "Third time's the charm." I beamed at my exuberant daughter "History my beauty, you are a part of history."
The 4 yr old looked up at me quizzically.
"You asked what mommy was going to do"
Teagan smiled back, "Mommy you helped the farmers and ranchers so they can grow food and feed all their beef again!"
I looked down at my daughter, the anxiety melting away and a deep belly laugh burst from my mouth. "Yes Princess, lots of beef will be fed."
I smiled wistfully at the memory of Teagan and Darroch's reaction when they saw a heard of cattle for the first time "That's a lot of beef mommy!"
My ears pricked up and I was brought back to the present.
Slowly the chant spread "Let the water flow, Let the water flow!" till all in attendance synchronized as one voice. We were the last ones shepherded through the fence to join the exuberant crowd. Hugs, pats on the back, high 5's, "Congrats", "God is good" were showered upon us.
A lone voice rang out above the cheerful din, "Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound..." One voice became many and soon it was on everyone's lips...
#LoveAndie
I was a member of the “Klamath Cavalry” and this was just one of many moments we rode in solidarity after the events on July 4th, 2001. Photos courtesy of Range Magazine Winter 2001: Top photo: Larry Turner, Bottom Photo Rob Crawford
Her lips curled back in a sneer, spittle collected at the corner of her mouth. "I don't know where you came from, you're rotten to the core!" I tried to stuff down the feelings she provoked. Tears pricked the back of my eyes, my fists clenched into balls, my nails left little crescents in my palms. I couldn't hold back any longer, the rage took over, "Why did you adopt me?" I spat at her. Her eyes narrowed and she smiled for a brief moment, "So Laura wouldn't be alone when we die" "Why didn't you get her a puppy?" I screamed defiantly, leaning in, daring her to hit me again. She clenched the wooden spoon, raised her hand and paused briefly before slamming it on the counter and turning her back to me. "Because I have asthma". There it is, the truth finally came out. My breath caught in the back of my throat, feelings washed over me, wave upon wave, I felt like I had been punched in the gut. That moment, temporarily suspended in time, was when I realized that "love" was never mentioned nor part of her simplistic vocabulary.
I could hear the tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock of the cuckoo clock pounding in my ears, mocking my existence. I bolted from the room, a stack of papers fluttered to the floor in my wake. I slammed my bedroom door and locked it, the "Birth Plate" clattered to the floor. I felt the color drain from my face and bile burn the back of my throat as I bent to retrieve it; a simple ceramic plate carved with details of a moment they were NEVER a part of. I heard the rattle of the door, the furious shaking of the knob. "Dammit Andrea open this door" I could hear the anger in her voice, envision her jaw askew as she clenched her teeth. "Bitch and Bastard and Bastard and Bitch that's what you are!!!" she screeched at me through the door. "Wait till your father gets home!" I held my breath, listening; kitchen cabinets slamming, utensils banging on the counter, incoherent screaming. Then it began, her diatribe, the go to litany of deep seeded & hate filled insults meant to destroy "BASTARD," "You're a Bad SEEEEED," I don't know where you came from, I don't who, WHOOOOO!!!," "John, Jahhhhnnnn, come get HER, TAKE HER AWAY!" Sadness and terror enveloped me, I didn't want to be on this planet anymore. I wanted to disappear, slip away, I wanted to die...
#LoveAndie
If you, or someone you know is contemplating suicide or self-harm you can call or text 988 You are NOT alone.
9th grade, September 1985 The year I tried to commit suicide.
Have you ever just let your mind wander and see where it takes you? While your mind is strolling along have you tried to write everything down without editing; anything that hits the paper stays and can't be crossed out? I did just that; I took about 5-7 minutes and just wrote down what ever popped into my head. I didn't edit, judge or censor what came up. What I was not prepared for, were the crazy twists & turns my brain took. I read my list out loud to a group of women and evidently, they found it quite humorous. I'm not sure if it was the crazy connections and how my list evolved or the fact that I read it at breakneck speed and actually sang the snippets of songs as well! I'm thinking it was the latter of the two! Full disclosure there are some items on my list that childhood friends *might* understand and get a chuckle out of it.
______________________________ John Travolta in Grease I was in Grease Patty Simcox Theresa's cousin Patty Was she a twin? Elena & Christina Poretta Elephant Potato Chip, Crispy Potato Chip Eileen Connor & I started that name I hate my name because I know it's not really mine What should my name be? I use to pet bees when I was little The little bee I saw today was cold & wet The pavement was wet & I almost slipped I fell down the stairs & broke my butt Dr Vega fixed my butt I was diagnosed with Breast Cancer and Dr Vega is going to fix me Why am I so broken? Broken Promises "Promises, Promises, you gave me" (song) "Singing in the rain" (song) "Rain drops keep falling on my head" (song) My head is bald Will my hair grow back? I had hair to the middle of my back I hate her and what she did to me "Sisters" shouldn't bully each other I was bullied in high school High school sucked "suck a nut" Joe & Dan Tedesco use to say it Teena Pallini Singing in a band "Band on the run" (song) "I run so far away" (song) Flock of Seagulls A seagull pooped on Joann's leg Girl scouts Trips Cookies I can't stop eating cookies I need to lose weight Weight is my bubble to keep you away I want to go away Can I disappear? Magicians aren't magical ----------------------------
WOW, after that exercise I have a whole new list of things to write about! Try it yourself and see where your amazing mind takes you, then drop me a line or comment on this post and let me know!
#LoveAndie
7/1988 Senior Portraits were always taken the summer before Senior year. Holy 80’s did I have A LOT of hair back then Photo credit: Guyette Studio; Canandaigua, NY
