tap, tap.  Hey, Internets, Its me Jennifer.  You still out there?

GAAAAAAAAAAD.  The cable guy just left my house.  I had to hold myself back from making mad passionate love to him for giving my connection to the Outer Limits back to me.  Funny thing?  I went to high school with the cable fixer guy.  Thanks, Matt.  YOU are a peach.

I don’t know where to start.  Its been so long, so I’ll start now, and go backward.

FIRST GROUPING OF THOUGHTS

The conversation I had with my husband last night went something like this:

Me: Did you read that Herman Hesse book Demian?
BH: Yeah.  I used to be really into Hesse (except he pronounces it right…)  Didnt you ever read Sidhartha?
Me: No.
BH:  REALLY????
(and then he really just goes on and on about how that book is a classic, and I tell him that I didnt read a lot of the classics until I was much older, and really, I dont like the classics all that much.  I even really almost HATE Dickens with all his blathering and dreariness.  With this he agrees with me wholeheartedly…but STILL!  How could I, an avid reader, NOT have read these books??!!  Oh the agony.  Oh the humanity!  And, while I have all this time, I really should go to the library and read every book ever written which he considers “great”.)
Me: Yeah.  I dont really like Borrowing books.  Not really my style.
BH:  WHAT?  OMG.  HOW DID I EVEN MARRY YOU?  I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU HATE THE LIBRARY.
Me:  Huh?  I dont “hate” the library.  I just…what if I LIKE the book?  What if I LOVE it?  I cant keep it!  Id have to go buy it and then never re-read it, and there it would sit on the bookshelf unloved!  Plus, I dont really like the time constraints. 
BH:  THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE!  UNACCEPTABLE!!  DEATH TO ALL TYRANTS!!!
Me: Books are like a photo album to me.  The books that I keep, I can remember all parts of them, and have left a good chunk of my soul in each one.  I can remember how I felt after finishing every one of those books on my bookshelf.  I like that about reading.  Like when I read Johnny Got His Gun for the first time…I read it in one day while I was laying in YOUR bed waiting for you to get home from class/work.  I bawled.  Its a keepsake.
BH:  YOU ARE WEIRD!  CALL A SHRINK!!! 
Me: Bah.

Okay, so some of the words in this presentation have been changed to protect the innocent (i.e. me), but really.  He did get all worked up because I’ve never read 1984.  And, okay.  I DO want to read it, I just havent yet.  Cripe, buddy!  Has he ever read the complete works of Shakespeare?  Or just one work?  Or ee cummings?  Or Leaves of Grass?  Yeah, no.  So shove it.   

SECOND GROUPING OF THOUGHTS

I AM reading Demian by Hermann Hesse right now (because I finished Killing Yourself to Live by my one and only, Chuck Klosterman.  Really Chuck.  Lets you and I get together…I mean, Im done with the drugs and all, but we could really be friends).  And, already, Ive found a few sentences that spoke to me.  They are as follows:

I do not consider myself less ignorant than most people.  I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question the stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me.”

And this immediately made me think of my own Christianity.  Which is kind of funny if youve read the book, but will be completely UNfunny, if you have no background info.  But its not ha-ha funny, more of a a-ha type funny.

Essentially, the above quote IS me.  This is the reason why I am such a believer.  And, I dont just mean God, either.  I mean everything.  I do still seek, but there is just so much to know, I find that if I let my soul do the walking, I learn so much more.  And, thusly, can accept so much more, because my heart is open.  Wide open.  Thank God, too.  Because I honestly do not know if I could get through all this hell with my mom if I didnt have faith.

I remember having so much more to say about that, but, I think Im done there; lest I get too verbose.

THIRD GROUPING OF THOUGHTS, MOSTLY ALL ABOUT DISNEY.

What a blast we had!  Everyone always asked how my mom did.  She was FINE.  We wheeled her around everywhere.  She road Splash Mountain, and we got in a lot of the rides a hell of a lot sooner as we, as a whole…thanks to mom, were “handicapped”.  HOWEVER, my father should have had a wheelchair!

My mom and dad had to drive since her Doctors wouldn’t allow my mother to fly.  Somewhere in Kentucky, Daddio took a spill.  It was slippery, see.  And, Dad was wearing his Crocs.  Let me interrupt myself here by saying, My dad is a bit eccentric.  You dont see many 60 year old men wearing Crocs.  You also dont see very many 60 year old men wearing knee lenghth leather tie up moccasins either, but this does not stop my dad.  See, he is part Indian (the feather kind), and he likes to “hunt silently like his People”.  Thus, the mocs.  And as for the Crocs?  I just dont know…But anyhoodle, he fell and hurt his hip.  He limped around all four Disney parks.  God bless him.  And, would NOT get a chair.  Because (here we go again) he was sitting in my mothers chair once when she was inside a store, and “a damn vet saluted me.  I was so embarrased, I dont need a damn chair with people saluting me.”  Why did the damn vet salute him, you ask?  How could the damn vet possibly have known that my dad was a damn vet, too?  Why that is because he wears a hat with VIETNAM VETERAN on the front with every imaginable pin commemorating every MIA, POW, Purple Heart whathaveyou.  Der, dad.  I think youve kind of earned the right to be saluted every once in a while.

Disney really is a magical place, though.  Even Big Hands had a great time.  I believe the word to use is “happy”.  It really gave me hope that his inner child is not as buried as I had thought he was.

Holden had fun, the cousins had fun, the Nana and the Papa had fun, the Greats had fun, the uncles and aunts had fun.

Rained every damn day, but what are ya gonna do?

THE LAST GROUPINGS OF THOUGHTS SOME OF WHICH WILL DEPRESS YOU

Ive been home for a week now.  During the day.  Home!  The laundry is almost done which was my project for the day.  The floors are shiny, the dust is dusted, the bathrooms have been sprayed.  I love this staying home thing.  Its the most awesomeness ever.

I am going to my moms about twice a week (or that is the plan anyway).  She is getting rid of things, which is depressing if you think about it, so I choose not to.  Hospice came in and we got all signed up for that.  She is well, though.  She is good.  She is still free to roam about at her leisure.  She just wont roam for very long.  Or…maybe she will.  Who knows.  We are all just trying to do what we can.  Be by her side.  Take her wherever she wants to go.  Talk about death for longer periods of time than we would like…whatever makes her happy.

Im just a seeker, here, trying to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me.

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