All posts by RobinLynn

About RobinLynn

A traveler, sometimes lost, sometimes misinformed, always ready to learn.

Acknowledging the heart

My friend Mike is heavy on my heart this holiday season.  I think of him everyday, always miss him, and have done wonderfully the last few holidays without having to put on any shows~it’s about being in the moment, being happy when there is happiness, and being sad when there is sadness…but I miss him, intensely.

Have you ever had that feeling, when feeling something intense, that pieces of your heart were almost literally dripping away into oblivion?  Or dripping with tears?  I have multiple reasons…and they weigh heavy on my heart.  During the holidays it’s just much more intense.

I was with my friend Barbara yesterday.  I took her to lunch for ‘our’ Christmas gift, I wanted to create a lasting memory with her.  She has a disease that is incurable, and it’s slowly but surely taking over her body.  I don’t know if I will spell it correctly (will do spell check, but not sure it’ll be in there) but Barbara has Scleroderma.  It’s already affecting her lungs, her esophogus, and her heart, in addition to what it’s doing to her skin and muscles.  She walks with a cane, and has so much difficulty doing anything that requires much energy for very long.  She has been more of a sister to me at times than my own sisters.  Her one wish is to live long enough to see her daughter happily married, with babies, her grandchildren. 

There is much I’m celebrating this holiday season, and so many people I’m blessed to have in my life.  I’m learning many lessons about what ‘have in my life’ means, whether that means they’re doing the best they can here, trying to have the best life possible, actively in my heart and life, or just nestled deeply in my  heart, along with the memories of them and their love.

Some days it’s an intense juggling act, with tears blinding my eyes.  Other days I just hold the emotions that are still very real close, and value them, and don’t regret their causes, and the people that came with them one little bit.

This holiday season I am celebrating the love around me, the love within me, and the love I can give.

This Want of You

This is absolutely hands down my favorite poem I think in the whole world.  There is an understanding here, an experience that can’t be faked, or created.  I embrace the truth within his work, and admire his ability to write with heart-drops.

This Want of You

This want of you is like no other thing;

It smites my soul with sudden sickening;

It binds my being with a wreath of rue – –

This want of you.

It flashes on me with the waking sun;

It creeps upon me when the day is done;

It hammers at my heart the long night thru – –

This want of you.

It sighs within me with the misting skies;

Oh, all the day within my heart it cries;

Old as your absnece, yet each moment new – –

This want of you.

Mad with demand and aching with despair,

It leaps within my heart and you are – where?

God has forgotten, or he never new –

This want of you.

 

Ivan Leonard Wright

Today I learned a valuable lesson~

Today, I had to go see my ortho dude about my knee.  There were some lighthearted moments, a little laughter, then tenseness filled the moment when the outcome of the visit wasn’t quite what I’d envisioned.

I had to explain to my doctor, who was being trailed by a student, that sometimes bad words come out of my mouth when something hurts me.  Not aimed at people, individually or as a whole, but just bad words due to the pain following some treatments.  This treatment had that potential, as it involved a needle going into my knee full of steroids for the mystery knee problem.  He had a big laugh out of that, and commented that perhaps I had ‘needle tourettes’, lolol.

So the dude with the needle came in, and as I had requested he brought the syringe full of numbing meds that I had wanted so it wouldn’t hurt as bad~learned this from having the monthly epidurals.  He looked me straight in the eye and asked me if I trusted him.  He answered some of my questions about the procedure, and asked me if I would allow him to do things his way, because he could guarantee me aside from a little pressure that there would be no pain.

I realized at this point, I did trust him.  I didn’t know him from Adam, but I trusted his ability to do what he said he could do (and wouldn’t do).  I trusted him with trying to help me better my health, and I paid the co-pay fees, so it only made sense for me to relinquish control and let him do his job…that was after all what I was there for.

He sprayed this stuff on my knee cap, I turned my head and closed my eyes, and he told me to prepare for the pressure I might feel.

There was no pain, at all.  There was no pressure, at all.  I think a lot of this had to do with my willingness to let go of a situation I hadn’t been able to fix on my own in 3+ months.  For a control freak, and someone with trust issues, that was huge.

My knee does feel better…no stabbing pains, though there is still lots of swelling.  In 3 to 4 weeks, depending on whether or not this controlled/eliminated the pain, we’ll talk at that later date about the possibility of a scope just to see what’s going on, that the mri didn’t show.

This was a huge step for me, and I feel better for having trusted in this man, the " " that guides him to do his job, and the universe as a whole.

🙂

last poem for today

The Boardroom

by Robin Halliday

Where is there a safe place, for the crazies to go?
Where can one just be totally engulfed in grief,
and never have to fear there?s a savior running amok,
trying to do those eternal fucking good deeds?
I want a haven, I want some assurances, and I want peace.
I want to want what I want, when I want it,
just as much as I want, and possibly more than I can bear.
I want it to overwhelm me, overtake me, and engulf me,
and not have to worry about the good samaritans peering
into my intentions, fearful for my eternal salvation.
I want my dance with the devil.
I want to fall on your grave screaming, and cursing the
fates that have totally ignored my hearts broken cries.
My begging falls on deaf ears, obviously.
You know of what I speak; only you marched on.
They paid no heed to prayers for a gentler life,
so you shocked them into attention with the pull of the trigger.
I being the fearful crazy that I am, only gnash my teeth,
dream of ripping out my hair, and argue with the silence,
the deafening silence waging the war in my mind.
 

01/07/2008

Posted on 01/07/2008
Copyright © 2009 Robin Halliday

and another poem, lol

On Gentle Wings

by Robin Halliday

Your ability to surrender me
to leave me on the brink of insanity
was vile, deceitful and, heartless
and, reeked of revenge and profanity.

To expose my deepest emotions
while you feigned care and concern,
was indeed a travesty of justice
I hadn’t yet been forced to learn.

History is intent on repeating
my life resembling that living hell;
I tried to leave and you beckoned ~
hence the tale I died to tell.

In a wooden box lined with silk
I lay in wait and pass the time,
warning those who venture my way
of loss and suffering that was mine.

My attraction to your cold selfish heart
was sadly one and the very same ~
as the tender-hearted, trusting moth,
to the always violent and deadly flame.

12/26/1993

and more poetry

A Mirror Image

by Robin Halliday

If I tried to tell you about me
would you listen, and try to understand?
Or would you feed me questions
and then the answers instantly demand?

Do you care that I don’t quite know
why I’m here or what it is I have to do?
Or would you decide quite nonchalantly
I was only sent here, to benefit you?

If I said my soul had been ravaged
and that my hurt would never subside
would you tell me to act like an adult
be responsible, and show some pride?

I binge and purge my way through life
doing that which is expected of me.
Would it matter if I were to say to you
I am not who you think you see?

Me probably never really has existed
and for that there is no one to blame.
I am simply a shadow passing time
no real definition, and certainly no name.

All that never was
and all that shall never be
was part of the bigger picture
that was supposed to have been me.

Lacking the barest necessities
unarmed to face a brutal life
I was unprepared and damaged
by constant and unfortunate strife.

Hoping to see the end
for wounds to heal and scars to fade
I have finally come to realize –
I am the monster, society made
 

10/02/2003

Posted on 01/09/2008
Copyright © 2009 Robin Halliday

some more writing

Life in the Burbs

by Robin Halliday

plastic people
painted on smiles
much time traveling
covering few miles

perfect careers
an ideal life
ken for a husband
barbie for a wife

convenient morals
that fit the situation
a life filled with ire
and much consternation

make believe people
in a make believe life
with make believe love
and make believe strife

lights go off
barbie and ken put away
ready to play at life
on a more suitable day

06/01/1999

Posted on 01/09/2008
Copyright © 2009 Robin Halliday

another of my poems

Sisters For All of Eternity

by Robin Halliday

My birthright was to walk along the jagged edge,
to have revealed to me what previously I could not see.
All masks of diplomacy had been coldly abandoned,
there would be no kindness, no civility for me.

Trying desperately to grab hold of whatever was near,
in a very unladylike fashion I sank to my knees.
Trying not to care, and knowing it did not matter,
the apologetic voice in my throat, did so eloquently freeze.

Sly, sneaky glances, curses muttered deep and low,
I unburdened the stabbing pain, and terror, in my tears.
There was nary a feeling heart inside this cold room,
not one ounce of comfort to alleviate any of my fears.

Half in a trance, I watched through a burning, teary, haze,
praying for the strength to see and having nothing to lose.
I numbly waited my turn, to walk that eternal sister-path,
our birthright to all unborn daughters – a pile of ladies shoes.

01/06/2008

Author’s Note: I tried to imagine a woman, walking to her death, in a concentration camp gas chamber. I read about the shoes at the Holocaust museum.

Posted on 01/07/2008
Copyright © 2009 Robin Halliday

Do you believe in soulmates?

I don’t know if I believe so much in the ‘soulmates’ of the fairytale nature.  I believe there are people that recognize and know each other…and never figure out quite why.  There’s a connection, just an inherent knowing that can’t be explained in this life.

I had one of those connections, a massive one, and he killed himself on September 28, 2007.  He stuck a .357 in his mouth, and blew his head to pieces.  Blunt?  Too blunt?  That’s how it happened, and that’s what happened.

If there was ever a male psyche/soul to my female, Mike was it.  Peas in a pod so to speak, except he was a bit more brutal and more of a risk-taker than I will ever be.  I loved him in a way and to a depth that today still amazes me.  We, however, were not meant to be together in this lifetime, a couple.

There were moral issues, and we both had another, but things were so bad for each of us in different ways in our then relationships, that it didn’t matter.  I made a conscious choice to owe my piper.  I jumped in feet first, and loved him with complete abandonment.  For seventeen years, he was my friend, and more, and sometimes not, but I never stopped loving him.  Stupidly, I always thought he’d be somewhere in this world…if our chance ever became a genuine reality.  Sometimes that’s what you get for thinking.

We lost contact in 98, for almost 6 years.  Never stopped loving him, but it had become one of those kinds of love that you gently push to the back of the shelf…you know it’s there, but something in your soul knows that’s where it needs to be for the time being. 

I lived out of the country for a year and a half, then in 2000 finally moved back to Kentucky.  I married my current husband (I only have one ex, and he is/was an alcoholic ass) when we moved back, and got on with living life.  Then one day in the winter of 2004, something just urged me to get in touch with Mike.  I hunted around, and asked around until I got his number.  Frankly?  He was on a television show on A&E, and when I saw him I felt  drawn to call him.  Not to see him, as we had before, but to call him.

He was surprised to hear from me, needless to say.  We talked for a few months, just at the odd time, but he kept begging me to meet him somewhere.  I did.  Once, for probably less than ten minutes.  I knew to see him again, would destroy my husband, and my marriage, so I didn’t.  We talked a few more months, everytime him begging me to at least go have a coffee with him.  I refused, I had to, because I knew he was the biggest weakness in the world for me.  During one of our last conversations he was talking about ‘us’, and how it was probably best that we hadn’t ever formally gotten together, because as much alike as we were we probably would have ended up killing each other.  I disagreed, but left it alone and just idly commented that we’d never know.

One Sunday in the winter of 2006, he called my house drunk, on his ass drunk, and talked to my husband.  He pretended it was a wrong number, but the name he used when saying who it was and who he was looking for, I knew it was him.  I was furious, I was frantic, and I never talked to him again.

He called my house often from that winter up until probably July of 2007, then he quit calling. 

When I injured my back, prior to the surgery, I was going to Nashville for epidurals.  On Friday, September 28, 2007 I was in Nashville at St. Thomas hospital getting an epidural.  Also on Friday, September 28, 2007, after Mike shot himself and was discovered, he was life-flighted to Vanderbilt  Hospital, also in Nashville.  The hospital I was at, and the hospital he was at, you could see one from the other.

Soulmates?  Do I believe in them?  I don’t know, perhaps on some level, on some other plane.  But sometimes connections, even at the end, can be overwhelmingly obvious.

My life changed the day that I found out, the following day.  The ‘me’ that was, ceased to be.  It wasn’t a conscious choice, but there was a part of me, a piece of my soul that died the day he decided this world was too much.  I still love life, but it’s different now, not as bright, as promising.

But, I choose life, every fucking day, I choose life.

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