That’s What Hope Is

I listened to the songs that brought me down

I went for a swim… and I wanted to drown.

Looking for something to get me out of my gloom

Thinking that life is just a faded bloom.


My world was dark by my own device.

Pushing the envelope and paying the price.

Living this way and the years have flown,

Choosing a path that kept me alone.


I want to know

That everything will be okay

That’s what faith is.

I want to have faith

That everything will be all right

That’s what hope is.


There is a way to cut myself free.

I can turnabout.  I can discover me.

There is an easier and softer way.

I can start anew and fresh each day.


I can fill the hours and give myself joy.

A gift of bliss that I never employ.

Now I know its not out of my scope

All I need is faith; all I need is hope.


I want to know

That everything will be okay

That’s what faith is.

I want to have faith

That everything will be all right

That’s what hope is.



What You Don’t Know About Me – Part 3

 I’m a misfit.  I’ve always been a misfit.  When I was a kid, and watched “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer” when they ended up on the Island for Misfit Toys, I always had empathy for those guys.  I wasn’t sure what empathy was, but I had an innate understanding of their pain and a strange connection to them.  This was a time when accepting people who were different from you was not promoted in the media nor endorsed by sports personalities. 

 I think I was born a few generations too late.  I had Victorian morals, “Leave it to Beaver” career aspirations, and even today, my favorite music genre is Big Band.  Sometimes I feel like one of those jigsaw puzzles that is made up of all one color so if the pieces DON’T fit, all you have to do is trim them with a scissor and shove them in.  When you’re young, you care a lot about fitting in.

 I was a late bloomer in every way… physically, mentally and emotionally.  It took me until my forties to discover or at least have any confidence at all in my own artistic talents and my fifties to find out that I could express myself fairly well through the written word.  Even at my age, I still haven’t gotten past the temper tantrums of the terrible twos. 

 Growing up, the few friends that I had were either older than me, or younger than me.  I never seemed to do well with my peers.  That followed me well into adulthood, until I had my own kids, and had a great deal more in common with people my own age. 

 Today, I seem to get along with everyone.  I think the main reason is that I have accepted who I am, and I don’t really care if I fit in.  Instead of Rudolph, I am more like Popeye.  Do I really need to say it?  “I yam what I yam.”

What You Don’t Know About Me – Part 2

I have dreams. Most people have or had dreams, of what they wanted in or want in life; of what they wanted to be when they grew up; of what they would do if they hit the lottery.

My dreams were never grandiose. Nor were they extravagant, unattainable or selfish. In fact, today, I would call them simple. Most of what I dreamed of came true. Most of them.

When I was young, I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grew up. I only knew that I wanted to marry a nice man. I got that dream – big time. Married thirty years to my best friend, though, I never dreamed of my wedding day. I never had hopes for a particular dress or ceremony or menu. I didn’t even own the game, “Mystery Date.” I just wanted to marry a “nice” man. I did.

I wanted to be a mom. I got that dream– big time. And, I’m grateful for every moment of it. I was blessed with the opportunity to raise two healthy, beautiful children to adulthood. I relished every baseball game, every debate, every swim meet. I didn’t mind changing diapers or sitting up all night mopping a fevered brow. I was disgustingly proud and had absolutely no humility when it came to talking about my children. I fear I’ll be worse when and if I ever have grandchildren.

I did not, however, have any designs on a career of any kind. When I was very little, perhaps, I wanted to be a movie star or a Broadway star. As I grew, and friends found interests and direction, I did not. I didn’t have any idea what to focus on in high school or college. I majored in communications, took a job with my father until he closed down his business, and then took the first job I could get, which ultimately launched me into a career in not-for-profit fundraising. Was it an aspiration of mine to ask rich people for money? No. Did I anticipate making parties and sporting events and symposia whose guests saw me as the “help?” No, not really. I learned the business well, and have succeeded in making a living. Was it a dream of mine? No.

So now, as I deal with the empty nest, middle-age, creaky bones and much less time ahead of me as I have behind me, my dream is more modest than ever. All I want is to simplify. To live a quiet life, pursue the artistic talents I have discovered in myself along the way, and do them just for my own pleasure. I want to grow old with my best friend. And, if at all possible, I’d like to hit the lottery.

What You Don’t Know About Me – Part 1

I have fears. I’m like everyone else in this world. I’m afraid of a few things.

I’m afraid of spiders and snakes. Palmetto bugs and rats don’t seem to bother me, but I recoil around a simple garden snake. If I believed in reincarnation, there must have been something in a former life that created this fear, because I can’t remember ever having a close encounter with a snake.

I hate going over bridges. Big bridges or small bridges—it doesn’t matter. I know when this started. Back in my childhood, when I spent my summers in New England, there was a rickety bridge that we had to drive over when we took a short cut to get into town. Once while driving over it, one of the boards fell off, and ever since, I’ve had this fear. Based on recent news reports about the infrastructure of our entire country, my fears are not unfounded. Having driven over the 7-mile bridge to Key West, the Sky Bridge from St. Petersburg to Tampa, the Golden Gate Bridge and many others, you would have thought that I had faced this fear and overcame it, but unfortunately not. Just last month I had to drive a golf cart over a well-kept bridge at a beautiful golf course and I did it with my eyes closed.

Escalators scare me silly. Part of that is my fear of heights and using escalators to get to the cheap seats at a stadium for a sporting event, because, well, I’m cheap. I have to look down at my feet most of the way in order to avoid panic. When it is time to get off of the contraption, I have visions of getting my shoelace caught or tripping. Palpations, cold sweats and most other visible signs of anxiety ensue.

The last great fear I have is a very personal one. Believe it or not, although I have been married for thirty years, raised a wonderful son, have three terrific brothers and have been successful in the business world, I am afraid of men. It creates a great internal conflict for me, and while I don’t want to sound cryptic, some of my closest friends are men. My fears are not unfounded, however the reasons are deeply personal. I will say that I had two instances of abuse by men and leave it at that. I will add that I grew up in a time the where roles of men and women were defined differently than they are now, and facing fear is something at which I was never good and still cannot do.

Hence, my husband does the gardening. We take the long way around to avoid bridges, and now, we buy seats on the lower deck or stay home and watch on TV, strangely enough, in the MAN CAVE.

Honor Thyself

Honor the dark places. Admit they exist.
Don’t deny them, they are a part of you.
Keep them in perspective, don’t allow them to twist.
They make up your soul, every color, every hue.

When its dark, it doesn’t have to be all black.
There are colors in the shade.
The tones that make up the bright colors you lack,
Will emerge from the foundation you’ve laid.

The someone you are, whom you’ve failed to see,
Has been built through the process of time.
Your true colors will rise and you will ultimately be,
Complete… a whole spectrum, sublime


Calm seas, smooth sailing.
An evenly cut wake across the water.
Never imagined what would come next.

Yellow sky in the distance.
Ominous white caps appear.
Unexpectedly, the hull begins to bob.

Heavy wind heralds a storm.
Eventually, waves crash over the bow.
Listing, tossing and turning, the keel unsteady.
People sliding along the deck, heaving over the rail.

Ensuing turmoil and confusion.

Overboard, and into the drink.