I've been trying to think my way thru a fog of emotions to make this post.
Been trying for about a week now.
Being forced to leave Kentucky with no chance of returning shook me to the core.
Yes, I was planning a trip back to Texas to see my kids and grandkids thru the holidays, and to take care of some business. But ... I was also thinking that I would return to Kentucky and continue helping out at Hub Cap Annie / Hilltop Hot Rod Shop.
Sadly, that is not to be what happens.
Not by my choice.
I was told by a deputy not to return. Being accused of doing something against myself, as well as against others. Not being believed when I answered his questions.
The choices given me were to (1.) Leave Kentucky and never return, or (2.) Face prosecution and jail time - yes, for something not done, but rather accused of.
Having lived a life of honesty & integrity for 58 years, then to be accused & not believed?
Well, yes. I was shaken to the core.
I found myself not knowing what to do, where to turn, or even who to trust.
I fought a major battle for 2 days as I drove away from Paris KY and to Texas.
Trying to figure out what had just happened. Was it jealousy? Or was it someone simply tired of me being around?
I've been treated hatefully at different times thru my life. I've been told I wasn't worth having around. There has been a lot that I have heard and seen in these years of my life.
But never have I been treated so rudely, disrespectfully, and told to leave ... like I was in Kentucky.
Part of me wanted to turn around and stand my ground & prove my word.
Part of me wanted to keep driving until the truck was worn out & money was gone.
And sadly, there was a part of me that was so dreadfully lonely and alone that I fully realized how someone can get to that point of not going on, that point of no return, that final straw of no hope for the future to where they take their own life.
Crossing the state line from Arkansas into Texas I was listening to my music, and the song that came on was "Gone to Texas" by The Calamity Janes.
"You may all go to hell, I'll go to Texas. You may all go to hell, I'll go home."
I smiled a little smile.
And I drove on.
Am I home? No.
I am visiting my kids and grandkids thru the holidays.
Will I remain here? Only heaven knows.
I have told my kids and grandkids that my crystal ball got busted into a million pieces when their daddy/p-paw died 4 1/2 years ago.
Home is not a place. It's not a house.
Home is love. Being loved. Loving someone else.
Home is being believed and trusted.
Home is knowing that someone has your back no matter what. No matter against who.
Home is arms to hold you when you have had a bad dream.
Home is listening ears to hear you without judgment or condemnation.
Home is quiet conversation over a cup of coffee.
Home is dreams, hopes, ideas for the future.
Home is working together, playing together.
Home is Hope.
Home ... No, I am not home.
Will I ever be home again?
Again, only heaven knows.
But for now, perhaps for now on, I am here ... waiting, wondering, and working on ME.
Realizing and accepting what was with Rick, what has been since he's been gone, and coming to terms with all of that - what it means to my heart, and to my future now.
I know more of what I do, and what I don't want ... I know better what I will, and what I won't, put up with.
I also am learning the hard, heart-breaking, lesson of who to trust ... and who not to trust.
As well as the most difficult lesson of who to vent to ... because most don't care enough to listen.
And those that do listen? Well, must be on guard there, too. Simply put? There are those who listen for one reason - so they can take your own words and twist them, using them against you, to either spear you to the wall, or stab you in the back.
I'm using this time to work on my body, too. New hair style. New glasses. Dental work. Back to walking & exercising. Losing the rest of the weight & doing my best to get in better shape. Time to find a doctor and have some tests run.
This is ME, my body, my life.
Past time to take care of ME.
I've spent a lifetime caring for others ... now ME-time.
I have promised Rick, my kids and grandkids, that I would not grieve myself to an early grave.
Nor would I ever just give up.
But rather I would press on into this life, living the best way I could.
Still wanting to hear Rick say, "You done good, girl! I am so proud of you!"
Now, I have promised myself to be more careful where, and to whom, I give my heart.
I will from this point forward be doubly on guard with my heart, my thoughts, my feelings, my hopes & dreams, my fears & worries.
I also promised myself to carefully choose my words, as well as all that I share on social media.
If I share it, you may know that I have thought about it, wrestled with it, worried over it like a dog with a bone, and finally made the post ...
then often times, deleting it before anyone can see it yet.
And all the while doing so with the thoughts and feelings that I am going directly against what Rick had asked me to do - - be bluntly honest, bravely blatant ... in the hopes that "just one person would be helped or encouraged, and all that I have suffered, all that you will suffer without me, will not have been in vain." Sigh.
However, this is MY website. Bought and paid for by Ricky Lee.
So, here I will share as he asked me to do.
Yet, I still struggled with this post for a week!
So why "Scattered Feathers" ? ? ?
You can read it here