Songs Of Peace

  Anyone who knows me long enough, knows there are two things Evanesco hates more than anything. Liars and the shorter days. Oh, and holidays, which are always referred to as hellidays. If you knew my family or my childhood you would definitely get that.  As hard as I tried to not get in that helliday funk, I did. I really tried on Thanksgiving. I was with friends I love. I had a bonding with the friend who hosted it. I walked away that night knowing that once again, I seem to be the only person in the world who thinks that withholding information, is a lie. From my own personal experience, it's the worst of them all.  What I didn't expect was to come home to an empty house and the only person who contacted me was an ex who wanted to tell me he was thankful I was always honest with him. Good fer you,buddy. I came home to am empty house on a helliday but I am honest. Good fer me.  Is it me, or do I sense I am not getting the truth out of life?

Sometimes God, brings you an answer, in the most simple way. I can't say it enough, how grateful I am that I read this book. I was feeling so out of sorts with what has been happening. I can't say that this book is everyone's answer, but it definitely hit home,for me. Now, go hug a dog or a special someone and remember everything in our life,good or bad, has a purpose. I understood it now, why I had lived so many times. I had to learn a lot of important skills and lessons, so that when the time came I could rescue Ethan, not from the pond but from the sinking despair of his own life.

Video from last blog for my emailers.

I have never stopped. Writing,that is. I just can't seem to finish a blog for the life of me. I am not sure what that is about. I literally find myself shutting down before I can hit the post button. I should note that I am writing this as an introduction,only after I finished this past blog. My aunt Jan, is rapidly getting sicker by the day. So often, after I leave from visiting with her I want to run back and tell her everything that someone should know what to say when you know they are dying. But, each time I go in to her room and sit for awhile, we make small talk. Usually, about horses and dogs. I try and bring her things that she can still eat. That has been narrowed down to mostly liquids and puddings. I noticed the box of fudge I brought back from my weekend in Rehoboth Beach, was empty on my uncle's bed. It broke my heart because the one thing Jannie loves most in this world is chocolate. If she can't get fudge down, I know it has gotten far worse than I have want