Kristina Furey

"Love and Lust"--Kristina Furey


As of today I have been married to Dan for 27 years.  We dated for four years previous to getting married.   It amazes me how much things have changed in the world since Dan and I got married and how many adventures we have taken on, as well as how many difficult things we have faced together.   Sitting here today, I realize how fortunate I have been to have a hand to hold and particularly, his hand.  

If I were to make a wish for each person in this world, it would be that they too, will be supported by love as they walk through their life.  That with loves gentle hand and guidance they will face the difficult head on and understand that the difficult does not have to travel with them once they have walked through it.  No need for those souvenirs.

I carried so much unnecessary baggage with me as I entered into marriage but marrying a person who picks up my spirit instead of diminishing it has not only been crucial to my survival but also supported me in such a way that moment by moment I have lightened the load of my baggage as I realized what it is to have another person invest so much love in me.  ME!  How awesome is that!?!  Well it’s the most awesome feeling, with the exception of what it is like to generously invest my love in Dan without fear of losing out.  

My mother told me a long time ago as I considered becoming sexually active with my first love to think carefully about it.  She asked, “What happens if you get pregnant?”  I said, “He said, he would marry me.”  I had just turned 18.  In fact, I waited to 18, so I could be “responsible” for my actions.  She said, “If you do get pregnant and he marries you, do you think he may resent you?”  I thought about this…  I was thinker and it was an astute question.  “Yes,” I said, but not as convincing as I had hoped it would come out…   How do you think he will feel when his friends and peers are exploring their new found freedom of being 18 and done with high school and independent?”  Do you think he will continue to feel the same about you, when you and possible child, stand between him and life experiences he could otherwise be having?”  “Well, he loves me,” my answer.  “You, do you have a direction you want to go?”  She knew I did.  I don’t know if she knew my father was intent on stacking the odds against me or the part she played in that intentionally or unwittingly.   WOW, if we could have had that discussion…  How, I could see the walls creeping in on me in such a way I was being led to follow the plans they had set out for me and become who they wanted, instead of who I was.  Perhaps the reason for choosing my boyfriend who had that “Hop on the back of my motorcycle and lets get the hell out of here” attitude.  But now, now this conversation I was having with my mom was bringing a reality to light I feared and I hadn’t yet found a way to erase that one moment, when I saw my boyfriend kick his mother’s dog in irritation.  I thought about my own Dad and his unchecked anger and how it had scarred me and made my brother so defiant.  No, I didn’t want children and I wasn’t sure I wanted permanence with my first love.  Well, I was unsure at that point.  I still needed time, time to observe, so I could figure out if this was the kind of love I needed or if it was not so different from the controlling love I felt I needed to escape.  I needed time and my first love needed to move forward.  It was so hard to let go of him and everything he represented to me.  Hard too, to face the fear that I may never love and be loved again…  I was only eighteen and I had no idea that opportunity comes around and around and I thought I was starving but I wasn’t.  I wasn’t full.  I was satiated and I was okay, even if I did not realize it.  He was a beautiful person, damaged in some ways that were no fault of his own.  Part of me wanted to fix him and part of me needed to fix myself and realized I would have to keep searching for that fix.  I found it in Dan.  I’m so thankful for the conversations I had with my mother, especially that one.  

Two years later and sexually involved with Dan, I wrote the following song (in the style of Annie Lennox’s “Missionary Man”…

My Momma told me a long time ago.  My Momma told me a long time ago.  My Momma told me a long time ago.  My Momma told me a long time ago.—My Momma told me a long time ago, she said, “Girl one day you’re gonna fall in love.  But let me tell you before you do, there are guys you love and there’s guys you lust.  Hey, we are just women but we got those same feelings.  So before you fall in love, you gotta make sure it’s something you can trust.—My Momma told me a long time ago, “I don’t want you losing your head.  There’s a difference between falling in love or just falling into some guys bed.  If you think you found the one, make sure it ain’t lust on the run.  If it’s love it will come in time.  You don’t think with your body, you think with your mind.—My Momma told me a long time ago, she said, “My little babies gonna fall in love.  Just be sure before you do, it’s a guy you love, not just one you lust.  I’m not trying to put love down.  I’m not trying to dictate.  I wish someone would have told me but I guess we all learn from our own mistakes.— Momma told me a long time ago, “Some guys are out there, just looking for fun.  They can damage your self esteem, so when you see them be sure to run.  Be sure, to take your time.  Explore your body and know your mind.  Be sure to respect yourself.  If you don’t then neither will anyone else.—My Momma told me a long time ago.  My Momma told me a long time ago.  My Momma told me a long time ago.  My Momma told me a long time ago.—“If you think you found the one  just make sure it ain’t lust on the run.  But if you find someone to love and lust, well that is, the best feeling, you can trust.”—My Momma told me a long time ago, “My little angels gonna fall in love but just remember before you do there’s a difference between love and lust.”

…Anyway, I took the advice from my own song, though in reality, it was not all from my mom.  It came from many places and I guess I realized I could put it all in a song and maybe that would be helpful to some other girl out there in the world trying to navigate her way through what it’s like to grow up female.  It ain’t easy!  I ran with all types and I was typed, labeled, groped, blackballed at times, sent to the corner by the powers that were and often misunderstood.  Lost until I found myself and when I did, I always went in search of the others like me, in need of being searched out, found, retrieved and gently put back on their pedestals.  I believe more than ever our young girls need that!  And so I share.

Much love and best wishes to you in all your endeavors!


Haters Gonna Hate


So I wrote this song.  I think it was a culmination of last weeks events and my delayed reaction to watching the documentary entitled “Get Me Roger Stone”.   I would suggest you see the documentary if you have not.  It’s an eye opening look at our “Politics” and perhaps an answer to the question, “What is going on in our country?”

I think I’ll name this one “Haters Gonna Hate”
“He said, “I toast, the Frenemies and all their common enemies.  Watch hate work for you and me and take them down, down, down.  

He said, “We will pass, on the blame, cause them misery, pain and shame, we’ll laugh as they proclaim, let’s take em down, down, down.” Another one down.  Sink another one down.  How’s that goin’ down?

Hater’s gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hate and take you down.  Take you down, down, down.  Yeah, hater’s gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hey-yate and take you dow-ow-ouwn.  Take you down. down, down.

He said, “Give them an enemy and they will do the rest you see, point out they’re at war and they’ll take em down, down, down.  Another one down.  The suckers go down.” How’s that goin’ down?

Hater’s gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hate and take you down.  Take you down, down, down.  Yeah, hater’s gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hate.  Hate is gonna hey-yate and take you dow-ow-ouwn.  Take you down. down, down.

“So, give them a sacrificial lamb and let them put their sins on them, put a weapon in their hand and watch them go down, down, down.”  Watch them all go down.   Like dominoes, down.”  How’s that going down?

Are you getting this down?  Do you get this now?   How they set up-you and me-and get away-some how.  This is how!  Do you get it now?  Do you get it now-or must we keep-going down, down, down, down, DOWN!

He Said, “I toast, the Frenemies and all their common enemies.  Watch hate work for you and me and take them down!”

One last thing:  Here's an interesting interview I heard on FRESH AIR today with NEW YORKER’S, Dexter Filkins.  "Tensions Rise Between Tillerson And Trump As The Threat Of War In North Korea Looms"
"Sec. of State Rex Tillerson is a diplomat in an administration that doesn't value diplomacy" --Quote from the interview.


"One insect can damage so much grain"--Elton John


A second blog this week because I'm just not done expressing this:  It only takes one person to show us, as a society, how sick we are.  Perhaps individually, we are only as well as we are, as a society and perhaps as a society, we are only as well as each individual that make it up…

So Imagine for a moment, if the shooter in the Las Vegas shooting had gotten some form of mental health care, instead of ever going on that shooting rampage…

Now let’s take a moment to look at the costs of him not getting the mental care that could have helped him find another way to deal with, whatever it was that he was reacting to, when he shot all those people…

What about each person shot and the medical costs they face?  Do they even have health insurance?  How many of them will not even be able to work in the future due to their injuries.  Will they lose the ability to afford health insurance?  How will that affect their children?  How many more health issues might some of them face due to their bodies new challenges?  Now let’s alter that last question, just a bit.  How many health issues will be caused due to the psychological impact, on those shot and even those at the scene that were not shot.  It can put people in states of hyper-vigilance.   What impact will that have on their children?  What will be the fall out for us as a nation, those of us that have been vicariously traumatized?   Will depression rates rise among people that were never even at the sight of the shooting as their perception of reality regarding their safety changes?  How will that affect the next generation? 

When we discuss healthcare and the budget, I think these are definitely valid points to consider.  Just what has this cost our country and what will this cost our country in the long run?  The lyrics from “Empty Garden (Hey, Hey, Johnny)” come to mind as I consider the costs of not providing all Americans with health insurance.  “It’s funny how one insect can damage so much grain.” —Elton John’s tribute song to John Lennon

I know it’s easy for some of us to think of ourselves as hardworking and deserving of the things we believe we are working hard for as we look upon others with skeptical eyes and the belief, they too should earn their way and why should we have to carry them?  
Why should we carry them? BECAUSE…  Because life isn’t fair, for you, for them, FOR ANY OF US and our perception of reality is more fragile than we like to admit because it’s reliant upon each person, that makes up the whole.  It only takes one person to show us, as a society, how sick we are.  Perhaps individually, we are only as well as we are, as a society and perhaps as a society, we are only as well as each individual that make it up. 


"Last Night I Dreamt of Angels"


“Last night I dreamt of angels-as I closed my eyes to sleep-As I struggled with the fears of the day-I slipped safely in peace-and in my dreams-they were smiling at me-telling me-to be strong-and they told me-the darkest of nights-can be followed-by the brightest of dawns-What I learned in those moments-was so much bigger than me-what I knew-to be true in my heart-my head could not conceive-yet in my dreams-they were smiling at me-telling me to have faith-then they told me-the greatest of challenges-offers the greatest of strength-but back here on earth-back here on earth-it just hurts!-I’ve been dreaming of angels-well since I was a child-in the darkest of nights-as I lay there-I found them at my side-in my dreams-always smiling at me-telling me to be strong-they would tell me-the will to forgive-was the same strength-I need to move on-but back here on earth-back here on earth-IT JUST HURTS!!!”    <—True story, I experienced this just after 9/11.  (Explanation below)

I believe I have mentioned before that I have sleep issues…  Along with the occasional bouts of insomnia, I have hypnagogic episodes sometimes too.  As I’m falling asleep, I may hear things in my head that can interfere with the process of falling asleep.  I may hear a voice say something or I might hear music and wake up, only to find it was me falling asleep and beginning to dream.  It’s much like starting to fall asleep, and hearing someone snore.  Then as you wake up the snoring is gone because it was you snoring.  Yeah, that happens to me too.  Only difference being, that the voices and music are in my head and not filling the room the way my snores do.  I also experience sleep paralysis, which really frightened me as a child.  I used to call them my coma dreams.   As I’ve aged I’ve become more curious about the experiences and I find them kind of interesting.  During them, I’m aware that I am asleep but I’m not able to wake up.  Sometimes on top of that, I may hear voices talking or music playing and sometimes other senses may be active and I can feel things like a dog jumping up on the bed and lying beside me.  It brought with it such an intense feeling of love.  For almost a week afterwards I could think of that and the feeling would come over me.  I used to fear I was experiencing ghostly encounters, especially since most often when I slept in this one loft, I used to sleep in occasionally, I would hear a dogs tag jingling on it’s collar as it made it’s way up the stairs.  I would hear it’s paws softly touch the carpet as it’s breathing came close to me and I would feel it’s presence at my side.  I couldn’t open my eyes and see it and when I woke up, I never saw or heard anything of a dogs presence.  It was scary at times too but then as I began to realize what was happening, I became more curious and open to the experiences, at times even grateful, as some of the experiences seemed divine as I listened to the intelligence of words that seemed to be whispered in my ears.  Sometimes I tell myself they really are angels because I want to believe we are being watched over. 


"Whiplash" I finally saw it!


“You’ve got me running in circles-round and round-till I fall down-You’ve got me jumping through the hoops of your heart-And I don’t want to play this game with you-but you know I always do-and I guess that’s the amusing part”  <—My answer, when my father asked me, “What was the part about jumping through hoops?”  After Dan and I had played our song “Obsession” for him.  I rattled it off, as the pride in me swelled, that he had noticed how cleverly I was able to state something, I had tried so hard to explain over and over again, year after year, in songs I wrote and in other things I’d written and tried to communicate.  I was certain in that moment he could really see how hard I had worked and that I had talent.  

So that’s what kept popping up in my head as I watched the movie “Whiplash” last Saturday.  

I squirmed in my seat, recounting all the hurtful things my father had said to me over the years.  I wondered if his strategy had been similar to J.K. Simmons’ character and I was perhaps the student that couldn’t cut it.  I thought about how exhausting it is to to try to please some people in an attempt to validate yourself and how once you’ve been taught to hold yourself to impossible standards, you yourself can carry on the abuse for years or even a lifetime, if you don’t discover a way out of that kind of thinking…  No, I decided, it wasn’t that I couldn’t cut it, it was that I wouldn’t.  I saw it as abuse and I wanted no part.  I did what came naturally to me and walked away in an effort to self preserve me and the things about me, I hold sacred.

Where did it begin with my father?  I have reason to believe, in the boy scouts.  I remember it told, that the NAVY soldiers had been in charge of the scouts while their fathers were away and it was run with military precision.  My Grandfather was an officer.  I believe he also expected nothing but excellence from my dad.  My dad performed like a champ.  He went on to become an Eagle Scout.  

I thought too, about the girl I occasionally spoke to in my chorus class, that showed up at my house at midnight, in my senior year of high school, explaining to my mom and I upon arrival at our door, that she had meant to knock on the door earlier but had noticed my car wasn’t in front of my home and while waiting for me to get home, she had fallen asleep in her mother’s car, that she had driven that day, her 18th birthday, to a Chopin competition in Baltimore.  We lived in Reston at the time.  She had not done as well at the competition as she had hoped and couldn’t bear to face her mother with the news.  There had been a lot of what I would define as abuse going on in her home.  It was always my nature to be open to others, empathetic to them when they opened up to me and forthcoming with my own experiences, when I thought it was helpful and I was kind of use to being sought out.  My mom was the same.  I studied my mom as she took in my classmates story.  I remember her saying, “Well I think we all need a good night’s sleep.  Let’s figure this out in the morning.”  In the morning (It was a Sunday morning), over breakfast, my mother told my classmate, seeing that she was now 18, legally she was an adult, so if she wanted she was free to stay in our home.  She had a scholarship and was heading to college in August.  If I remember correctly, it was in February when this happened. My mom also commented that because my friend was now 18 and the car legally belonged to her mother, she would need to get the car back to her mom or there could be legal problems.  We dropped the car off without her family knowing and then she called her mom to explain her decision to live with us until it was time for her to go to college.  Eventually, she did have some face to face encounters with her mother and family.  In fact about a month before she left for college she moved back in with them.  She and I became close and I learned more of what she had experienced.  Her experiences were similar to Geoffrey Rush’s in the movie, “Shine”.  

I want to mention, as uncomfortable as they are to watch, “Whiplash” and “Shine” are both exceptional movies showcasing the excellence of the actors in them, that will most likely leave you thinking of them, long after you’ve watched them.  They are remarkable pieces of work.  I just hope no one was abused in an effort to bring about the excellence of the performances.  

NOTE:  I originally wrote “We Can’t Deny” for my father.  Another one of my many attempts to build a bridge.  To speak to him in a way he might listen…

“We can’t deny-what’s happening here-You’re getting older-I’m getting older-I see the lines-etched on your face-a map to the past-reminder of yesterday-A time when you couldn’t love me-the way that I needed-thought you only loved me when I pleased you-now we push that pain aside-what good is pain-once we learn the lessons it teaches-I can’t deny-when I look at your face-love that I feel-love that you’ve given me-please won’t you give me your hand-I’ll help you stand-I can be strong now that you’re not-you, you can be strong for me-give your hand to me-that would show great strength in deed-Cause we can’t deny- that all that we have-is just here and now-only this space in time-please won’t you give me your hand-I’ll help you stand-I can be strong now that you’re not-you, you can be strong for me-give your hand to me-it could give us the courage-we both seek-…cause we can’t deny-what’s happening here-what’s happening here-what’s happening (.) (!) (?)

Strange enough, a friend shared this with me this past week:  Mike and the Mechanics' "Living Years" live at Isle of Wight Festival DEFINITELY remarkable!


Jim Carrey, this one's for you


Jim Carrey, this one's for you.. Last Friday night, someone mentioned to me that you had crashed “Fashion Week” saying it was the most meaningless thing you could do. The following morning, first thing, I viewed video of the incident for myself and though I don't actually believe you will ever read this, you spoke to my own unsettled nature and may have given me the kick in the pants I needed to put my own voice back out into the world.  I have experienced similar thoughts to those you expressed.  I have struggled with trying to quiet these thoughts in myself.  Quiet them, while suspecting the effort to quiet was detrimental to evolving in ways necessary to help prepare myself and others for something yet to be…  something I am completely clueless to but feel I instinctively know is on the horizon.  While I have felt this way,  I wasn't sure how to communicate this until I looked up the video and realized, I want anybody who is feeling similarly to know that there's others of us shaking our heads at where our culture is putting its importance as we wonder “What the what?!?”  For the moment, my thoughts on this whole existence thing, is that our “selves” are just built on a pattern of reactions, some that come from the pre-programming others have played a part in, some just chemical makeup and the rest probably dependent on the part it seems necessary for us to play at any given moment. I believe that last part is perhaps our nature.  Perhaps like a cell in the body waiting for its impulse to tell it what the whole body needs so it can compensate.  Our reactions, I believe, are natural responses that have just begun to be used in an unnatural, perhaps, ill way...  I'm concerned we have become just a series of reactions brought about by the whims of the mass we are a part of.  If that's so, maybe it is not self awareness that we need but the awareness that we are each a part of one mass in need of congruence.  When I look around at the world today, mostly what I see is people divided and reacting to that division relentlessly.  

What is fashions purpose?  I think Dr. Suess would have defined it as a "Thneed".   "A fine something that all people need."  Fashion is sold like costumes so people can dress up and play a role.  I have a strong sense inside me saying we all need to grow up and stop the madness, this desire to buy ourselves into something that makes us complete, powerful or whatever, may be currently trending as the thing to be.  It's all smoke and mirrors.  A nice distraction perhaps but it scares me that we are constantly being sold on this mentality of look better than, feel better than, be better than and the divisions continue…  I struggle with self image.  It's a slippery slope for me.  I once had the money, I had earned to acquire a chemical face lift, something I thought I wanted/thneeded to feel okay when out in public performing.  I just thought I would feel more comfortable, people can be cruel when they judge.  Then, I thought of this little child with a cleft palette, who gave me such a huge smile in front of the camera, when I was working with Images For Kids as an assistant some years back.  I had just cleaned his face with a wipe, telling him I was cleaning away anything that would get in the way of his parents seeing all his beauty in the photo we were about to take and as I finished, I said to him, "That's it!  I see all your beauty now!"  He beamed!  Long story short, I ended up donating the money so a kid with a cleft palate could have surgery and I'd like to think for some time I felt a lot more beautiful and confident than I would have had I gone through with the injections.   Don't know, I still look in the mirror sometimes and want to fix myself but part of me thinks I'm not what needs fixing... 

What are we becoming?  What do we want to give meaning and value to?
  Things I wonder...

When my mom died earlier this year I unconsciously chose to take a vow of silence, by removing my voice from the internet and any public forum.   She was the third in my family to die from cancer.  After going through the dying process with my brother, my father, and then my mother, I've been overcome with grief at our inability to see how our survival as a species is all connected.  I have found myself perplexed at communicating what I feel I've observed and it seemed like a good precautionary measure to take that vow of silence, so I wouldn't get it wrong and become part of what I believe is the problem, dysfunction.  Dysfunction seems to me to be the disease, we need to carefully cut from our lives, with the precision of a surgeon, performing brain surgery on a cancer patient.  We as a whole need to become self aware, so we as a whole can preserve whatever it is we are.  My heart goes out to Jim Carrey.  I felt you brother and I hope you are okay.  Sometimes being conscious of these things can be too much to explain in a way it can be understood, instead of shunned.  People fear coming to terms with overwhelming truth because they realize, if they accept that truth, they will have to deal with the part they play and decide if they will choose to continue or do the work it takes to get to a higher ground.  It's easier to deny and call someone crazy.  Jim Carrey, you are incredibly creative and I encourage you to find a more palatable, perhaps more subtle way of communicating what you are trying to express.  Try to find a way that they will not see as a threat to their self worth. 


***This last part is a note to any people I have disappointed by abandoning my website and the email attached to it.  I agonized and thought about checking my email but I was really taken aback by my mom's passing and I needed to tend to myself as it's my nature to take care of others and I really needed self care.  I am truly grateful for everyone that has offered their condolences.  Forgive me if I have appeared ungrateful as I know, I tend to walk away as a precautionary measure when I need to regroup, or protect myself and others from the emotional states that may make me less trusting of myself and my own decision making, actions even.  I honestly want something better for myself and for you and if I can't put that out, I really don't want to put anything out.


When The Binding Breaks


This past week I found this song coming through me and I almost posted this but lost my nerve instead.   I woke up at 3am today with a nudge to just do it.  


”When The Binding Breaks"

"When the binding breaks all the pages fall out-When the binding breaks, pages scatter about-Start to fly away-and the story, will never be the same-All the time it took to get it in place-Now it's not your book cause you've been erased-When the binding breaks-nothing will be the same...

But I read you-keeping safe inside our hopes and dreams-I read you-cause we somehow knew all the same things-and I treasured you for all you tried to do.

But when the binding breaks out of anger and hate-when the binding breaks, do they see their mistakes-Propaganda thick-is it too thick, to thick to see through-When the binding breaks stories are rearranged-When the binding breaks different stories come through-Truth is all replaced by a fascist kind of power...

But I read you-and committed you to my memory-I read you-I will sing of you until they hear me-Because before we could read, we would sing.


So when the binding breaks-When they break our backs-when propaganda takes it won't destroy our path-The words of hope you gave, to me-words of hope that I, now sing-will save us from our suffering and help us find our path."

He spoke quietly, paused between thoughts, allowing consideration to fill in the empty spaces.  He inspired hope.  He believed in change.  He understood people need to come together, see their likenesses to quiet their fears so they can peacefully cooperate in building a world that accommodates all.  Soft spoken.  Self disciplined.  Non-reactive.  Thoughtful.  In contrast to rogue.  I had lived long enough to know that rogue  was not to be trusted, just reactionary and more often the equivalent of monkeys throwing poo at one another, while proactive was a finely tuned instrument, designed to deliver quality results and so, I never voted with more confidence in my actions as I did in that 2008 election.   This past week I prayed, “Please don't let them degrade, dismantle or erase what a good leader looks like, sounds like or the actions he would take in support of us.  "One nation.  Under God.  Indivisible.  With liberty and justice for all."  I prayed, “Please God, if you exist, Don't let the salesman break us down and sell us out, piece by piece.  Don't let him fire our forefathers and what they set up in trust to us.”     


David Bowie’s “Man Who Sold The World”

Binding:  binding definition 



I learned something


The Rally was a great success!  Especially since this was its first run.  There are already plans to build on it for next year and more people that want to help out.  We were honored to be part of it!

I learned something!  I learned that registering for organ donation when getting your driver’s license may not be enough to ensure that your body parts will be used sufficiently to your wishes.  There’s different choices you can make and in my case, I was covered for organs but excluded was the use for therapy, medical research and education.  These things are important to me as I want our medical field to get what they need completely to save lives and bring ease to those lives in need.  Basically I want them to get what they need to help those in need.  I understand this is not for everyone but say you just want to make a certain organ or only particular organs available, you can also make sure they will only take what you authorize.  So if you haven’t considered donation for fear they would take more than you wish, that is not a concern.  They will only take what you wish.  So go sign up now if that’s been holding you back!  Here’s the national website address  and here’s the pre-written letter I got to send from  after specifying my own donation wishes.

Please e-mail my decision to Donate Life to my family and friends. This e-mail will read as follows:

"I, KRISTINA FUREY, have signed up on Florida’s organ and tissue donor registry and I encourage you to do the same. It’s quick, easy and FREE. Help save lives by becoming an organ and tissue donor. Sign up and tell others your decision.

To sign up, or to obtain more information, please visit:"

Oh and here’s video footage from the Rally. 

Check out the new pictures in our gallery



My point (I do have one)


Okay, real quick here, if I can do anything real quick.  My mind is answering with, "Slow is smooth and smooth is fast."  Either way, on with it...  We play tomorrow at Rally At The Railroad at noon.  I have been sick but I'm feeling better, thank goodness!  

I had hoped when I starting blogging about my brother that I would be further along.  So perhaps one day I will have the opportunity to tell you what I don't have time to get to right now but I will now get to the point.  Things got complicated for my brother in ways all of those who loved him wished they had not.  His teens and twenties were difficult times and he headed down some paths in search of answers and self medication.  Often our perception of someone can be tainted and it seems more than ever in this day and time people are quick to judge what they don't fully have comprehension of.  I saw things unfold and my heart was deeply invested in my brother's life.  Which is why I was so relieved to see that when he hit his thirties he began to hit his stride in life.  He had begun to comprehend himself and allow his experiences to be something he owned, instead of allowing them to own him.  We don't choose our experiences in life.  We choose our paths with an idea of what experiences they may hold and at the core of those choices are our needs and sometimes we are suckered in, sometimes we make poor choices and sometimes there are simply just unfortunate circumstances.  It was a combination of all these things that played into my brother's life when he was only 28 and in the hospital getting ready to go into heart surgery.  It was just he and I, when he said something like, "If I die I don't want you to be so sad.  My life is not like yours.  You have a husband and family that love you and fill your life with joy.  I have had some real sadness in my life.  Since I was in prison (for drugs) I am no longer treated like a human.  I have no vote, no say in this country.  I have to lie to get a job and if I don’t, I get taken advantage of, paid less than what is legal in this country and on top of this, I have no love in my life.  No one to feel my absence.  It's not that big a loss."  I was floored and doing everything I could not to lose it right there and sob and instead persuade him to the understanding that those who loved him, loved him deeply.  He made it through the surgery and seemed to move forward with his life.  He found love and was married in his thirties.  He brought many people joy and when he, his wife and his business partner created “Sunshine Daydream Festivals” he created jobs and opportunities for others, he helped people create memories to last a lifetime and he gave home and jobs to some who had none.

I would have liked to have seen what else he would have been able to accomplish but he died at age 42, just after he was flown to a hospital, where we were all hopeful he might receive a liver transplant.   Organ donation gives those experiencing organ failure hope and sometimes life.  I did the best I could to give my brother hope when he was 28 and going under the knife and I encouraged him again to have hope at age 42 when his liver was failing.  I can only imagine what my brother would have accomplished today (he would be 50) if he had experienced a successful organ transplant.  I am so thankful for every moment I did get with my brother after that day back in 1994 or 95, when he was so sad and disheartened.  I’m so thankful to have seen him rise.

Please consider signing up to be an Organ Donor if you are not one already.  

Thank you





"I always turn the car around"--O.A.R.


I was awakened by a phone call in the middle of the night.  I was 22 years old, still living in my parent’s home but they were away for labor day weekend.  So there I was around 1:30am that Sunday morning, awakened with my heart beating out of my chest, when I picked up the phone and it was my brother Kevin on the other end.  He asked for my parents and I told him where they were and then he said he needed my help.  He lived about an hour and a half away with his girlfriend and her mother and he wanted me to come and get him, now!  I had never been to their house and I think that’s what I said but he told me, “No, don’t come to the house!”  Meet me at the 7 Eleven at such and such place and then he quickly gave me directions.  I assured him I would be out the door in 5 minutes and that I wasn’t good at directions so it might take me some time to find it, especially if I got lost but he assured me if I followed his directions I would make it.  

Understanding from my brother’s quick assessment of what was going on, that I was likely heading into a dangerous situation, I prayed as I used the bathroom and got dressed.  On my way out the door, I hesitated, turned around and grabbed a piece of paper and wrote something like this, “Should you find I’m not home but find this letter, you should know, Kevin called to say something explosive went down at his girlfriends house, which resulted in her hitting him in the head with a beer bottle and him, as he put it, getting the hell out before he killed someone, she or himself. “ I also left the directions of where I was heading to pick him up, along with  the time and the date.  

As I headed down the road, it completely occurred to me that I might get lost, I might get there and he may never show up.  The scenarios of what might happen seemed vast but there was this calm knowing inside me too, this feeling it was going to be okay and that if I was risking my life, he was worth it!  He had gone down a path and this could be a pivotal moment that would deliver him back safely because he seemed to understand  it wasn’t working for him.  I thought about something else too, a time he really showed up for me.  There are very few people in my life I’ve ever admitted this too.  When I was 13 and things were unmanageable in my life I chose to skip school.  It didn’t help that I was being bullied at the time, that was like the nail in the coffin and on any give day it was questionable whether that coffin would be mine or someone elses.  Then, I was told the person responsible for the bullying efforts was coming to my house to fight me after school one day.  My brother found me with my Father’s gun.  As I said, things from my perspective had become very unmanageable and…   long story short my brother stopped me.  He told me should she shows up, I was going to fight her and he was going to stand behind me to make sure it was a fair fight (that her enlisted cronies would not participate.)  He followed that up with advice about how there is no such thing as a fair fight and I should use whatever I was able to, during a fight.  There you have it!  I wasn’t showing up to school with a gun but I had experienced what might set someone off and have them go there and that’s a really scary thing to know about yourself…  Oddly that knowing, gave me comfort as I went to get him and bring him home, safe.  

I did arrive at the location, without getting lost.  Mind you I had only the scribbled directions on me, no map of the area and certainly no GPS to recalculate for any mistakes I may have made.  I waited in that parking lot for about 20 minutes before he showed.  I did go in to ask the clerk to confirm it was indeed the only 7 Eleven in the area.  Still, it was a long wait…

This is a continuation from previous blogs from 2 weeks and 3 weeks ago and is to be continued…

O.A.R. "Shattered"