The End or the Beginning?

Shakespeare so eloquently wrote,
"The sun for sorrow would not show its head"
It rained yesterday.... a steady downpour of raindrops outside;
inside a steady flow of tears.
The skies wept with me.
The thunder echoed the violent pain that tears me apart.
Your vicious goodbye was so abrupt and unfounded
I felt as though a part of me with died with your parting.
Your love seems to have disappeared
.....into the mists of the morning fog.
The tears make trails of dampness
as they slowly travel from my red, swollen eyes...
down my face to finally drop silently, but with such finality.
The fact is that I was never good enough
I always felt that I didn't deserve someone like you.
You treat me as if I'm of depraved character.
Yes, I am guilty of several wrongs,
but not the accusations with which you crucified me
...of those things, I am innocent.
I loved you with a pure heart.
I gave my love totally and unconditionally,
never considering the inevitable pain
we both knew I would eventually experience anyway.
I honestly thought that you returned my love,
you almost had me convinced.
I have always been true to myself, true to my ideas,
...and I have followed my heart.
Whereas, you on the other hand chose duty over truth
and blindness over enlightenment.
Though for a short time, I actually fooled myself into believing that...
maybe....just maybe....but alas,
my hopes have been dashed, our relationship torn apart.
My heart and my soul, forever scarred...
by pain and your condemnation.
Just remember, that regardless of how you feel for me
How you despise or curse me...
I gave you my heart, and my love...
First as a friend, then as my love...
though now I know these things are meaningless to you,
and the reality of that is difficult to face
I am not sure I can face it...
for you will forever have possession of my heart and my soul.
And I am now empty...
Without you, I have nothing
....I am nothing.

©Copyright 2000
SLG
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Forever Yours

Forgive me,
but I want to cherish
each moment I have left with you
every look, each touch,
every caress, each breath, every moment.
I don’t want to dwell on the pain,
the inevitabilities.
I want what time I have left with you to be happy.
If that means being in denial –
then let me be in denial,
my subconscious knows --
at times breaking through
bringing the tears and t
he gut-wrenching pain to the surface.
Oh, just please, let me pretend,
if just for a little while
that everything is good –
everything is as it should be
chasing the knowledge that
I’ve lost you into hiding..
It won’t change anything,
of that I’m well aware
and it won’t make anything
easier at the true end,
it will but postpone the t
otal devastation for a while
--the devastation of my heart
and of my soul.
Never think my love for you
was a mistake –
I have no regrets,
will never have regrets, ah
but one – that regardless
of the depth and strength
of my love and devotion,
my love was not enough.
And I hope you never l
ook back with regret,
even though one day
I feel you’ll realize what’s lost,
the rare and precious
love I offered, unconditionally
I gave to you that part of me
I’d never offered to anyone
that part of me can’t be returned,
nor offered to another.
You see, with that part,
you actually have all of me,

you still have all of me – and will – forever.

©Copyright 2007
SLG
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Essential

Can you not understand
how essential you are to me,
to my life
The need is greater than
any I have ever experienced
The need for water or food
cannot even compare
The need for air,
that vital element for survival
That’s what you are to me,
vital, crucial, critical..
When I see you,
or think about you,
I feel as I did when I thought about
Christmas as a child,
Easter, birthdays, running through
a field of flowers in the spring, barefooted;
Wading in the edge of the lake,
with pants rolled up to my knees,
knowing it was forbidden
Running through the woods, full-speed.
As a child, there was no fear
But with these feelings,
sometimes fear does sneak in
Uninvited, unwanted, and
I try desperately to push it away
Sometimes I succeed, sometimes not
Just as one who feels
they will might suffocate
Without that vital element, air
You are that vital element in my life,
As one deprived of air,

I could not survive without you.

©Copyright 2006
SLG
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My Soul

MY SOUL

When you look into my eyes,
I know that you can’t help but see
my love for you reflected there.
But can you not see the pureness, the depth,
breadth, or intensity of my love for you?

Occasionally you look into my eyes,
you can see pain, that sears my soul,
pain so overwhelming so all-consuming.
Pain caused by your doubts and suspicions,
About my integrity, my honesty, my love for you.

If you could but see into my heart,
You would see that my heart is pure.
And if you looked closely, you would realize
It is so full of love for you,
There is no room for anyone but you.

If you could but see into my soul
You would see, without you, my soul is not whole.
Without you – it was but half - empty, incomplete.
You would find assurance, and truth, for you posses
the missing portion of my heart and my soul.

©Copyright 2006
SLG
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Deep WIthin

His plans and dreams are unfulfilled,
he says I’m not what he needs.
He feels the need to be on his way
and I vow I’ll not beg or plead.

He said he’ll give “us” one more try
and acts like things are fine
But I know down deep within my heart
he’s only marking time.

He has to know that I’m aware
he doesn’t plan to stay
Action speak louder than words
so he doesn’t have to say

I try not to let him see the tears,
the pain and the despair.
I try to stay upbeat and cheerful
and act like he still cares.

I show him love and affection,
and steal kisses when I can.
But sometimes his cool demeanor
is more than I can stand.

I listen to his comments closely
looking for any sign or clue
For I want to be prepared the day
he finally says we’re through

Until that day, I’ll try not to dwell
on all my pain and fears
I’ll show him all the love and support
and he’ll not see any tears.

I hope one day he’ll look back
with warm thoughts and a smile,
for the total and unconditional love
that I gave him for a while.

©Copyright 2007
SLG
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Your Eternally

I dreamt of you last night,
While deep in sweet repose
I felt the warmth of your embrace,
the sweetness of your lips upon mine,
the passion only you can ignite.
We made sweet, passionate love
the type of love that only those,
who have known total,
unconditional love can achieve.
Again, for a short time, we were one,
one spirit, one heart, one soul.
As you faded from my dream,
you whispered “One day.”
So I await that day, when once again,
we will be reunited as one.
Whether it be in this life time
Or the next, I will wait for you.
Yours eternally,
SLG

©Copyright 2001
SLG
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Your Eyes

Sitting here in the quiet
of the morning hours,
while the rest of the world sleeps,
I occasionally glance at your picture,
and think about time spent with you.
Feelings of warmth, and yes,
sometimes feelings of desire
accompany those thoughts.
I've always heard if you look deeply
into a person's eyes you can sometimes
see into the other's soul.
And sometimes you can read emotions.....
feelings in a person's eyes.
My eyes are that way.....
love, devotion, desire, hurt,
disappointment, and anger
are always evident in my eyes.
But not in yours.
The only glimpses I've gained
to your soul, thoughts, and emotions
are contained in your writings.
I've searched your eyes for clues
and weighed your words carefully.
Sometimes I can see gentleness.....
sometimes desire in your eyes....
but all else is closed to me.
I'm still in the dark.
Sometimes I long to ask,
"Please shed some light."
Yet at the same time,
I'm not sure I wish for everything to be illuminated....
so I will continue to search your beautiful eyes
and remain in the dark
with occasional flashes of light.
And maybe one day
you'll share your "inner self" with me.....
and maybe not.

©Copyright 2000
SLG
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Your Spirit

You came to me last night,
I felt your touch.
I lay in my bed, alone,
but not alone.
Your spirit was with me.
You touched my heart,
I felt you in my soul.
The night was frigid,
yet warmth surrounded me.
Although a stranger,
You brought comfort
with your presence
Although foreign,
I felt fire in your touch.
You came to me last night
But not in my dreams;
I was awake.
Who are you?
Where are you?
What are you?
SLG
Copyright 2001
SLG
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You Are Always With Me

YOU ARE ALWAYS WITH ME

I’ve watched the red fingers of dawn spread
across the lightening night sky with you.
I’ve felt your arms encircle me, protectively, lovingly,
encasing us in the isolation of our private reality,
oblivious to the existence of nothing but each other.
I’ve felt your lips on mine and tasted the nectar of your kisses.
I’ve covered your body with warm kisses,
while exchanging loving caresses with you.
I’ve lain beside you as the moonlight enveloped us,
protecting us from the shadows of the night.
I have made passionate love with you through the night.
But all of these have been done in my mind….
though sometimes even while awake I can feel
your touch across the miles….and know….
that though you are not physically here…
you are with me at all times.

©Copyright 1999
SLG
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The Kiss

He turned toward me,
the look in his eyes told me
....he was going to kiss me.
Before his lips ever touched mine,
I knew......I was lost.
Looking into his eyes,
a torrent of emotions assaulted my senses,
emotions that I could not control
or understand.
As his lips brushed mine
I felt this strange energy surge through me,
the kiss deepened .....
and his tongue invaded my mouth.
I felt myself spiraling through a vortex.
"Open your eyes," he whispered
his voice thick with passion,
I looked into his eyes......
he looked into my soul,
reality slammed into my consciousness.
I would need to guard my heart stringently,
.....or it would be forfeited.
Only twice in my lifetime
have I experienced such a
spectrum of emotions and feelings as those
evoked by the mere touch of his lips on mine.
The kiss ended.
He stepped back and gazed into my eyes
And my mind shrieked,
"How can fate be so cruel?"
You see, he is already taken....
someone has a prior claim on his heart, ....the lady that calls herself his wife.

©Copyright 2000
SLG
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The Flame

When I close my eyes,
I can see your eyes, and your piercing glance
I feel as though you can see through to my soul.
I am frightened, not by what you might see,
But of the possibility that what I see
is just an illusion.
You say my words echo your thoughts
….can this be true? Are you real?
I shared my thoughts and feelings with you,
Something I now realize I do not share with others,
except through my writing.
For they came with tears and a broken voice,
My hopes, my dreams, so real, so vivid…..
but never realized.
So few understand these things…..
to find someone who does
reinforces my belief that it's possible.
But at the same time somehow frightens me.
I fight myself to keep from stepping back,
Like a child who has touched the fire,
but is still drawn to the fascination of the flame,
reaching out hesitantly with fear,
yet an overwhelming compulsion
to try and capture the beauty,
remembering that the wonder they seek
might scorch them.
Do I draw closer to the flame?
Or do I step back in fear of pain?

©Copyright 2000
SLG
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The Dark One

You look away from me, cannot meet my stare.
The truth lies in your eyes, in your demeanor,
Your heart is hardened; your soul is tortured and dark,
You have built an impenetrable wall around yourself.
You treat others with a calculated callousness.
I know the reason for your heart's protection,
But I wonder, what must you have endured,
What has clouded your soul?
I can see a faint light, but it dims a little each day,
soon I'm afraid it will be too tainted……totally dark.
What I see in your eyes frightens me,
yet I cannot help but to reach out to you.
Allow me to show you the light, help to ease your pain.
At the risk of my own soul, which is virtuous and serene,
my heart which is pure and gentle……I wish to help.I see there is still goodness in you, why must you hide it?

Spring

SPRING

Spring is finally here,
the change almost complete.
The earth has slowly awakened from
its slumber.
Trees reaching for the deep blue sky
with new sprouts on limbs,
previously bare.
The limbs laden with green leaves,
casting shadows and shade
on the ground beneath
granting cool protection for those
retreating from the glare of the sun.
Birds hide among the
leaves and new limbs,
building nests for
their expected offspring.
The grass looks as though it
has been spray painted
an emerald green
The scraggly shrubs,
which turned to mere
twigs in the gray of winter,
are now bursting with leaves;
bulbs opening into beautiful
fragrant palettes.
I sit and marvel at
this beautiful transformation
and realize that I too have experienced
my own metamorphosis.
My heart and soul were dormant
like the grasses and
the trees in the dead of winter.
Your love has awakened my heart and
it sings like the birds creating
a home for their precious brood.
My soul has taken on the colors
and light of spring.
Beauty and magnificence inhabit corners
where nothing but gray
and black shadows lived.
After a long hibernation from the drab,
cheerless, days of winter
......I have awakened.
And like the fawn,
newly born in spring,
.....on weak and wobbly legs,
I am learning to walk and run,
and explore this world
that is alien to me.
Your love has also given me strength,
a type of strength that
I've never possessed
and a confidence that I've never known.
Though I've made a trip
into the world of love,
this world is different.
This world of absolute,
unconditional, love
contains deeper hues and
more exotic fragrances.
Contrasts are more vivid and
euphoric sensations
surpass anything one could ever imagine.
What frightens me is the uncertainty
of what will happen in this alien world....
when the spring fades to summer
.....and then to fall.....and finally winter?

©Copyright 2000
SLG
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Reality Bites

Reality came crashing in on me today.
I needed someone, anyone to help.
My problem wasn't that serious or life altering.
But what if it had been?
To whom would I turn if a real need arose?
I decided to take inventory for future reference.
Alas, when I ran through my lists of family, friends, and loves,
for one close by to help in a time of crisis;
a cold realization slammed into my consciousness.
I have only myself upon which to depend.
Oh I have friends in far away places with families who need them.
Friends with lives of their own, little time for me.And suddenly I was scared! I am all alone.

©Copyright 1999
SLG
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Our Souls

Though our encounter was so brief,
that it passed like the blink of an eye,
I felt our minds and souls merge.
And although you have decided not to be part of my life,
I can feel your presence, in my mind,
my heart, and my soul.
I can still feel you inside my soul......
sometimes, so strongly it’s as if you are here beside me,
At night before I surrender to sleep,
I can feel your breath on my cheek,
your lips on mine, so gently,
and although you chose not to be here,
your essence is ever present.
You are now a part of me, and will always be,
regardless of circumstances.
And I know, that if it is meant to be,
as I feel with every fiber of my being that it is,
that we were meant for each other,
we will find our way back to each other.
Maybe not in this lifetime or the next,
but eventually for I know.... we share one soul, one heart, one dream.

©Copyright 2000
SLG
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Our Goodbye

OUR GOODBYE
Although the words were unspoken,
we both knew we were saying goodbye.
You said it's better to end
our relationship with a loving act
rather than with anger.
You were right; it was better,
but so much more difficult.
Twice I quickly wiped away silent tears
which streaked my face
as we lay entwined and connected,
in the afterglow of love.
Did you sense my soundless tears
and their betrayal of the anguish
……tearing at my heart?
I tried so hard to hide the pain……
the longing……
…….the regret.
I try to take solace in the fact
that we will remain as friends.
That it is fate and timing that is the culprit.
But tell me please,
………was there any pain,
longing or regret in your heart?
©Copyright 2000
SLG
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Nightmares

Nightmares haunt me in my sleep.
I am in a courtroom accused of a crime.
I declare my innocence,
but the jury looks away in contempt,
the judge arrogantly sneers.
Tears streak my face as
again I try and proclaim my innocence.
I open my mouth but no sound comes forth.
My prosecutor, wearing a hood like
that of an executioner, laughs,
"There's no need for your words,
you tell naught but lies.
Do you think you'll be believed?"
The jury shouts guilty,
with the finality of the gavel,
the judge passes sentence –
"You are sentenced to death."
I beg to be believed,
The courtroom erupts in laughter.
I fall to my knees....distraught
As the prosecutor removes his hood
And turns to face me,
I raise my head to gaze into his eyes
Which are filled with contempt, hatred, and

I see your eyes -- for it is you.

©Copyright 2000
SLG
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My Vows

Although circumstances prevent you from giving me your vow

That doesn't stop me from giving you mine.

As you ready yourself for the future that fate has in store for you,

my love, these things I vow:

I will cherish every second of every hour,

of every day that we spent together.

I have given you my heart, my soul and my love,

such as I have never given over to anyone before.

I vow that you will always possess these things

For my heart, soul and love are irretrievable.

You will always be able to look into my eyes

and see the eternal love I have for you.

I will never love another as I do you,

I will be there for you for whatever you need

Whether a kind word, encouragement,

sympathy, moral support, or anything…...

………all you need do is ask.

You have told me to move on…………

…..……to find someone worthy.

I had found the one I wanted,

the one I feel is my true mate in life

I want no other.

No one will ever fill that void

which now exists in my life, my heart, and my soul.

The beautiful spring wonders I enjoyed just weeks ago

have faded into a composite sketch of black, grey, and white.

My soul is empty, my heart heavy, and my life meaningless.

All I ever wanted was your happiness,

and to bring joy into your life

So, yes, I will take whatever scrapes of your time

you can give me, as a friend.

But I vow, you will have my eternal love,

Which regardless of our relationship will never change.



©Copyright 2000
SLG
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My Darkest Hour

Shakespeare so eloquently wrote,
"The sun for sorrow would not show its head"
It rained yesterday…. a steady downpour of raindrops outside;
inside a steady flow of tears.
The skies wept with me.
The thunder echoed the violent pain that tears me apart.
Your vicious goodbye was so abrupt and unfounded
I felt as though a part of me with died with your parting.
Our relationship disappeared
……….into the mists of the morning fog.
The tears make trails of dampness
as they slowly travel from my red, swollen eyes…
down my face to finally drop silently, but with such finality.
The fact is that I never deserved such despicable treatment
…but I always knew you believed I was unsuited.
You treat me as if I'm of depraved character
……of that, I am innocent.
You almost had me convinced, however;
I have always been true to myself, true to my ideas,
….and I have followed my heart.
Whereas, you on the other hand chose duty over truth,
deceit over honor and blindness over enlightenment.
Though for a short time, I actually fooled myself into believing that maybe….
just maybe…but alas,
my hopes have been dashed, our friendship torn apart.
My heart and my soul, forever scarred…
By your deception and condemnation.
Just remember, that regardless of how you feel for me
How you despise or curse me….
I gave you my heart, and my love….
First as a friend, then as a lover, then again as a friend…
though I know these things are meaningless to you,
and the reality of that is difficult to face
But face it I will….
with a clear understanding of the pain which can be caused
by someone's deception and intolerance.
You see this end in reality isn't an endBut actually a new beginning for me.

©Copyright 2000
SLG
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My Inspiration

Was I was truly alive? I felt dead inside.
I was just surviving, going through the motions.
My view of life was black, white and gray.
One drab, obscure day faded into the next tedious day.
Excitement and joy were nothing but alien concepts;
abstract illusions, fairy tales poets disbursed in prose.


Then the dark clouds parted, replaced by warm light;
the grays turned to brilliant hues of color, and
my life became filled with awe and exhilaration.
I have discovered the joys of living and being alive.
My heart and soul, once desolate and despondent,
now radiate with contentedness and ecstasy.


Beauty is now woven into almost every aspect of my life.
The harmonious songs of birds lighten my steps.
My enhanced senses embrace the fragrances of the flowers.
The warm sunlight illuminates the splendor in the world.
My life is no longer merely a daily existence I must endure,
It is a celebration of the euphoria of my love for you.


You are my inspiration, my motivation; you are my life.
I awake each morning to warm thoughts of you.
Just knowing you exist, that you are in my life,
that I love you, and you love me in return;
brings joy to my heart, a warm smile to my lips, and
I can now see all the beauty and wonders of my world.


©Copyright 2000
SLG
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The Dance

Nightly we perform a ritual dance,
…..you step forward, I follow
….you retreat, I step forward.
Occasionally you step closer,
to narrow the distance between,
….but then you retreat again.
Sometimes I misstep or retreat;
It’s not that I wish to lead…
but maybe I am not certain to where you will lead
….or maybe I am scared.
Are you scared?
Is that why we sometimes dance in circles…
….me afraid to follow blindly…..
you uncertain of where you wish to lead?
Do we hear the same music
as we perform this ritual?
I don’t know….
…..I just hope you are there when the
music reaches its
final strands of harmony.
©Copyright 1999
SLG
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I Love You

The words hang in the air, like the late

night fog which shrouds the lake.

I love you……

I said it, although the thought has been constant

in my mind lately,

I never intended the words to leave my lips,

to be spoken or heard by the world

….or by you.

I said it….and I cannot unsay it….

nor do I know if I wish to.

I only know that it scares me.

Thoughts of you fill my mind…

my entire being with

feelings of ecstasy, yet trepidation lingers…

for I have laid my heart and soul

open to you…..

…..for you to

accept

or reject.
©Copyright 1999
SLG
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Memory Lane

The cloudless Sunday sends me down memory lane,
A path I walk quite frequently since you have gone away.
I recall the autumn afternoons we spent in the park,
Though always crowded, I could see no one but you.
The days at the lake we watched the breeze skim the water,
The gulls diving for food,
And the sun setting at the water's far edge.
Our love made the days perfect.
At night we'd sit under the stars and talk of
all of our tomorrows, when we could be together,
and only death would be our end.
But death wasn't our end, though I've died a thousand
times since that cold November evening when you
calmly and surely walked out of my life
into your own.
Your last words "I love you" reverberating through
the apartment as you closed the door,
Leaving me with shattered dreams and a longing for the
Love I shall never again obtain
but in my lonely walk
down memory lane.
©Copyright 1975
SLG
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At Last You Found Me

As I ponder the verses of my favorite poem by Rod McKuen,
I ask myself -- Did I really know you would find me?
I raced through my teen years believing
there was someone special, someone unique
that would fulfill all my needs
.....but I did not find you.
Once I thought I had found you.....and yes.....
I did love and have been loved by others.....
but I always felt that something was missing
....that there was a void that others along my life's path could not fill
.....no matter how hard they tried
or how desperately I wished they would.
I had almost given up hope of finding you,
I feared my search for you was based on
fairy tale endings and a young girls
hopes and dreams for a love that came with
understanding, patience
....and the ability to fill that void
That forever made me feel incomplete.
In my disappointment....I told myself....
I must be unworthy
.....after all, I had searched for you,
tried to find substitutes for you
....and waited patiently for you to find me.
So I gave up, only
....you did find me and that void is now filled. I am complete.
The unconditional love I knew I could give
and the joy in giving that love fulfills me as nothing ever has.
I am content.....for I know,
if I do live to reach 90 years, as the fortune teller predicted,
when I am old and alone with only
my cats for companionship....
I can take out the memories of time spent with you
....and smile with the feelings of love and contentment,
....and know I once had what most search
a lifetime for and never find.
As Mr. McKuen said:
"It was for you I saved the best for last"
©Copyright 2000
SLG
All rights reserved. No further use,
reproduction, or distribution in any form,
including print, electronic or otherwise, may bemade without the express permission of the author

First Love Remembered

Sometimes in the early hours
of morning.
When darkness hides me,
and it is quiet, but for my breathing.
My mind travels back in time.
Back to a carefree woman with a
schoolgirls' blush and the satisfied
look of love.
Happiness surround her,
I was that woman, six years ago,
before you left me.
I felt such love,
Then experienced such pain.
I'd always heard that time heals
all wounds.
Well, the pain's faded now.
But no one told me the
love would remain.
It's not a constant reminder
as it once was.
But in the quiet mornings,
before dawn's first light
when I take out those fragil memories
stored in the deep reserves of my mind,
I see those happy days,
And your face which held
Such bright promises.
And I remember your vows of
Everlasting love, and I realize --
I still love you.

©Copyright 1981
SLG
All rights reserved. No further use,
reproduction, or distribution in any form,
including print, electronic or otherwise, may bemade without the express permission of the author

The Kitchen Table

After the afternoon meal on Sundays and holidays, everyone would linger around the kitchen table. Conversation could range from current events in the world to problems, to what was going on in each other’s life. It evoked feelings of warmth, safety, belonging – usually with the exception of my aunt’s occasional commentaries on our appearance or our behavior (which may have contributed to my anorexia). Those times sharing stories, ideas, and opinions, all around my parents’ kitchen table made Sunday and holiday meals special. The sun shining through the kitchen window bathed those sitting around it in cheery warmth.

But on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights, the kitchen table became something sinister. When I was younger, I didn’t understand, I just knew when Daddy was drinking from that funny smelling glass and he started talking funny, that when he said “come sit down, I want to talk to you” that the kitchen table looked so dark, so forbidding, so cold. I would always choose a chair at the other end of the table, only to be told, “Sit right here, I said I want to talk to you.” I would sit on the edge of the seat, hoping to be able to make a quick escape, if the opportunity arose. It never did.

“You don’t love me.” “You don’t appreciate anything I do for you, none of you do.” The “talk” always began with one of those two sentences. Until Daddy decided it was time for him to eat and go to bed, I would be held prisoner under that dark cloud over the kitchen table. I always knew what was coming next, although the order of his checking off my mistakes and faults were sometimes rearranged, I knew he was going to tell me what a bad girl I was by giving me examples of ways I was unappreciative and how I should act, though for the life of me, as a little girl, it never made sense to me. Explanations were demanded, "Why did I do this or that? Was it to embarrass or hurt him? Tell me how you show me you appreciate me." And I would have to justify every "fault" every "misdeed." All I knew was that no matter what I did, or how hard I tried, it was never enough, I was never good enough. Although I never got into trouble with the police, I didn’t experiment with drugs, I only got into trouble twice in school (once for skipping school, once for a fight with a boy that had said something bad about my brother). I learned I could take criticism, as long as I felt it was something constructive or anything other than what I felt was a total condemnation of me as a person.

I went through two years of therapy, which helped, but still didn’t clear away all the self-doubt I had about my worth, my goodness. So I found things in which I could excel – my job at the radio station. I was good, but the pay wasn’t. After that, in college, I found if I studied and tried very hard, I could not only make good grades, but I could usually blow the average and make ranking the grades impossible for the professor – which didn’t contribute to a lot of friends in my college classes, unless they needed a tutor. At 38, I graduated second in the College of Liberal Arts, my three children cheered as I walked across the stage with the yellow sash indicating I was an Honor Student, but no one else from my family was there.

For years, I felt I had excelled at being a good mother. I know I’ve made mistakes with my kids, all parents do. But, my two oldest sons turned out well and since I was instrumental in raising them, setting what I felt was a good example for them and instilling high morals, I thought I had been a good parent. Maybe I was deceiving myself, for that too, has come into question lately.

I spent years making sure that I abided by most of the teachings about morals and standards I had received in school and church (yes, back then they could teach morals in school). At every opportunity, I did my best to help anyone whom I felt needed help. And maybe in some way, I did it to try and help myself feel better about me, but I don’t think that has ever been my main motivation. I’ve always held myself to a higher standard than those around me, I’ve always strived for near perfection in anything I attempt. I guess thinking that maybe if I did the best I could at anything I attempted; was honest in my dealings with others; and did all I could to be the best person, physically, emotionally, and morally that I could be, that maybe one day……………I don’t know, maybe I would “measure up” to others’ expectations of me, maybe they wouldn’t see all those faults I have that had been painfully pointed out to me for years.

Daddy quit drinking twenty-something years ago. And now, his criticism is a little more bearable, though recently I’ve been told several times in a round about way, that I’m going to hell for living in sin. Thankfully, I have a really good friend, probably my best friend, who sees only the best in people. He’s known me for thirty-something years, and he knows all my deep, dark, secrets, and yes, all my faults. I don’t get to talk with him as often as I would like, because he travels with his job. But at times he’s been my salvation, at the least, I know he’s helped me maintain some grasp on my sanity at those times I feel like I’m back at the kitchen table. Last night I dreamt again and again that I was back at that kitchen table. It was dark outside, I don’t remember who was taking an inventory of my faults and shortcomings, but I was overcome with the same feelings of inadequacy, but this time it was more than that. I can’t put a name to it, but the only way I could describe it is swirling black, oppression, a feeling of total hopelessness.

I seldom eat at my kitchen table, although experts suggest that families sit down to eat at least one meal a day together at the kitchen table. I never understood why I had such an aversion to eating at the table; until last night, and my dream.

Land of the Free

Thirteen years ago I sat mesmerized before the television watching what I thought was a science fiction movie about as group of people in middle America who were so full of hate and prejudice that they felt all non-whites should be terminated. One scene in the movie portrayed the execution of a white female and her "half-breed" child. She was viewed as a traitor because she has married a Hispanic. The real eye-opener was after the conclusion of the movie; statistics were given of the numbers of chapters and the members of the various hate groups in the United States. A shiver of terror ran down my spine. I was pregnant at that time with my third child, whose father, my ex-husband, is Hispanic.

Raised in the Deep South, in a racist home, I was well aware of the bias, prejudice, and the outright hatred many whites harbored toward blacks. The magical sixties and the Civil Rights Movement coincided with my adolescent rebellion, and the ideas that I adapted during my defiant rebellion became a permanent part of my philosophy of life. I was aware of the existence of the Klan, but I felt it was no longer a dangerous organization. After all, aren't we a civilized nation with equal rights? I guess it is always easier to be oblivious to something hideous when it does not affect you personally. I was not prejudice or biased, and I guess I closed my eyes to the discriminatory acts of others.

While married to my daughter's father, I became enlightened considerable. I experienced first-hand what prejudice and hate can accomplish; and the feelings of sheer helplessness and injustice when you see someone you love being discriminated against. I swore to myself at that time that I would never sit idly by while someone was being discriminated against. And although it has gotten me into some "dangerous" situations at times, I never have. I have always spoken up and took action when I witnessed someone being treated unfairly. I also vowed that my children would be raised "colorblind." They would be taught that when someone was different, that was not a reason to fear them, it was an opportunity to expand their knowledge and understanding of the world.

While talking with a loved one last night, he related an event that had occurred to himself and a friend earlier yesterday. It seems they went to a local Denny's Restaurant in a city in Pennsylvania. The restaurant was not busy and the employees apparently had time to conduct personal conversations with other employees. My love and his friend stood there for an indeterminate time waiting to be seated, as is the policy in Denny's. My loved one is a very patient man, but after a long wait they decided to leave and find another place to eat. A customer from the restaurant followed them to their car and stated that he was angered over their treatment by the staff. Apparently the night shift at this particular Denny's Restaurant has a habit of discriminating against African Americans and foreigners, for this is not the first time this has happened at this particular location to either of them.

When I learned of this incident last night, I was outraged. I told my loved one that first he should contact the management of Denny's and complain, then he should take it a step further, though my sense of reasoning was a bit impaired by my anger and the pain I felt at having someone that I love so dearly treated in such a manner. He calmly said, I am not from here, I am a foreigner and what I can do is limited because of that fact. He continued by saying, "Sometimes it makes me think 'What the hell am I doing here?'" You see, he is from India. He is probably the most gentle, caring, understanding person that I have ever met. He does not judge others, and he always looks for the good in people, so he didn't want to believe that he and his friend had just been ignored by the staff because of his race, until it was confirmed by several other people.

Incidents such as this occur hundreds of times every hour in this "Great Nation" while people watch and do nothing to correct the situation. I cannot help but wonder why. Unless you are a Native American Indian, your ancestors were "foreigners" in this land at one time. But yet we sit by and allow others to be treated in this horrid manner because "they're black" or "they're foreigners and don't belong here." Unfortunately the United States is not the only country in which discrimination is blatantly allowed to blossom and grow. But, the United States is one of the few nations born from immigration of "foreigners." The United States proudly claims to be a "melting pot of different cultures and races." What makes this nation great is the diversity of the people who have brought their unique cultures and values together to form this country.

Ironically the incident that has me so enraged took place within the same state where Lincoln gave his famous "Gettysburg Address." An address which began with the words: "Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal."

The knowledge that this type of discrimination still occurs haunts me hourly. So what can I do about it? I can continue raising my children to believe everyone is equal, that people are people regardless of their race, culture, or religion, and that having a different culture or religion does not make a person inferior, but makes that person a potential source of information and understanding. I can continue to take an active stand against discrimination and take whatever steps I feel are necessary when I see acts of discrimination committed against someone. As a teacher I daily reminded my students of the horrors of discrimination and tried to enable them to develop understanding, tolerance, and finally acceptance of everyone regardless of race, religion, culture, or gender. My students were assigned projects in which they had to research and interview someone from another culture. The student was to have a clear understanding of the culture upon completion when they presented their "facts" to the class.

It is only when parents and teachers have changed their attitudes and taught our young people understanding, tolerance, patience, and acceptance of others that hate and discrimination will be eradicated in this nation. No, we have not had mass exterminations of people like in Hitler's Germany or in recent day Rwanda and other countries in the world. So tell me, what can YOU do about this problem?

©Copyright 2000
SLG
All rights reserved. No further use,
reproduction, or distribution in any form,
including print, electronic or otherwise, may bemade without the express permission of the author.

Should I Fear Men?

I drove the forty miles home with the words “At some point in time you seem to have lost your fear of men” running through my mind. Those words had been spoken to me earlier in the day. I work as a paralegal/secretary for an individual attorney. My boss is an odd mix of compassion, sarcasm, honesty, and to quote a friend of mine, “a dick.” I never know what to expect of him. He’s in his fifties and admits to being a former hippie.

I was sitting at my desk trying to get subpoenas ready for a trial coming up the middle of the month. Knowing that we were already late in getting the subpoenas out, I was focusing on the task at hand. My boss walked up to my desk and asked me to fax some documents to another attorney. I took the documents and turned to go to the fax machine.

“You’re scaring me,” he stated. Puzzled, I asked him what he meant. “You have a cup of coffee sitting here and I’m afraid you’re going to knock it over.” He then went on to comment that I also had a Diet Pepsi on my desk. “This isn’t a bar room, you don’t need that many drinks on your desk.” I promptly picked up the coffee and moved it to a “safe” location on my desk, though it was in no danger of being knocked over.

My boss walked to the coffee pot and as he was fixing his coffee he said, “You just ignore me. Both drinks are still sitting on your desk, you just moved things around. At some point in time you seem to have lost your fear of men.” Thinking that I had misunderstood him, I said, “I beg your pardon.” He repeated his statement. Now I’m not usually at a loss for words, but there I sat, my mouth open, my mind racing, and my blood pressure rising.

Was he implying that only men were in positions of power and authority? Wait, why should I have a fear of men? I’ve never feared men. For that bit of wisdom I can thank my mother, for what she taught me by example. However, if any women on this earth have reason to fear men, I’m sure I’m one of them.

At the vulnerable age of five, my sixteen-year-old next-door neighbor molested me – with his mother looking on and laughing. From that experience I learned to be careful where you went and with whom you would be alone. When I was fifteen and just becoming a woman, I was raped by an acquaintance. When my father learned of the incident I was told it was because of my style of dressing (this was when mini-skirts and “hot pants” were in style). I must have been fairly smart at fifteen, for I knew it had nothing to do with the way I dressed and I knew it wasn’t my fault. This definitely reinforced my first lesson – with whom you choose to be alone, and taught me that if someone starts drinking, be more cautious.

While married, my husband, who had a problem with drinking, would frequently become enraged and hit me. I learned not to stay in an abusive relationship and to pay attention to how children and animals react to people. Sounds a bit strange, I’m sure. But you see, small children and animals can sense things about people, some type of instinct that adults seem to lose before they reach adolescence.

To quote a song, “I’m a survivor.” These things did not make me fear men. I just learned to use better judgment and be more vigilant. Now if a man is holding a weapon, hell yes, I’m afraid. But the same goes for a woman holding a weapon.

When I was training to become a deputy I had to work a certain number of hours in the jail before I could get on the road on criminal patrol. Several times I had to enter the different “dorms” in the jail at Covington. Most of the male prisoners treated me with respect, and it never bothered me going into the men’s dorm. On the other hand, I’ll never forget the first time I stepped into the women’s dorm. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. When I finished my assigned task, I went back to the “booking room.” I told the Sergeant on duty how I had felt when in the women’s dorm. He laughed and assured me that everyone felt that way when they had to cross the threshold of the women’s dorm. Which confirmed what I had learned in college, women tend to commit more violent and vicious crimes than men.

I wonder if my boss knows this? So I should be afraid of men? I think not, maybe they should be afraid of me.


Copyright 2002
SLG
All rights reserved. No further distribution in
any form, print, electronic or otherwise, may be made
without the express permission of the author