Her favorite color is wild

Random thoughts flit through her mind,  color's spiraling like a kaleidoscope 

Spinning and changing with her mood

greens, blues, calming, and reds, brilliant like her life... Yellows, creams, peaceful, but rarely. 

She's always been a wanderer, in love with life,.... free. Unfettered. Even in the midst of commitments.......

Always tempered by exspectatons, society, grounded by roots. 


Her spirit roam's as free as horses, across the plains and praires. Folloing the sun and stars. 

Chasing butterflys in summer,  catching one.... she smiles.  Her favorite color is wild. 

Who can take sorrow

Who can take sorrow, to use as a crutch

 to have all you need,  and never know it as such

 to have the warmth of fire, rather than the burn of his touch

I think about you so much; I think about you so much


The devil has my secret, he says he'd never tell

I leave it for safe keeping, He places it in hell


A match is struck once, a thought more than twice

honesty's a virtue, that waver's on the ice

It screams in all directions, it slices like a knife

I'll think about you, all of my life


The devil has my secret, he says he will not tell

I leave it for safekeeping, He places it  in hell


I should choose the one in waiting, my life has gone on.

My lifes not broken, my homes not gone

I will choose the other, so sweet and loving

no?  I'll think about you, then continue on


The devil has my secret, he says he'll never tell

I leave it for safekeeping, and leave it in hell;

and let it burn in hell. The devil has my secret


When you died before I did, and heaven sent for you,

I know you stopped by and looked for me, to say goodbye again.

I'm movng on in life, it seems to be my lot

I know you know who, and that I give all I've got.


My life is given over to the one you chose for me,

I feel it in my daily life, it's how its suppose to be.

I think of you often, with all the love in my heart,

knowing that you're happy, with what I had to start.


The devil has my secret, I let it burn in hell,

and followed you to heaven,

with the man who has my heart.

30 year difference (feeling old yet?)

Going to start this with a caveat; I didn't write it, although it is in my journals from years ago, and I do not know who did 

1972 long hair
2002 longing for hair 

1972 The perfect high
2002 The perfect high yield mutual fund 

1972 The keg 
2002 The EKG

1972 Acid rock
2002 Acid reflux

1972 moving to California because its "cool" 
2002 moving to California because it's "warm" 

1972 Growing pot
2002 Growing pot belly 

1972 Trying to look like Marlon Brando or Liz Taylor
2002 Trying not to look like Marlon Brando or Liz Taylor 

1972 Killer weed
2002 Weed killer 

1972 Hoping for a BMW
2002 Hoping for a BM

1972 The Greatful dead
2002 Dr. Kavorkian 

1972 Going to a new hip joint
2002 Getting a new hip joint 

1972 Rolling Stones
2002 Kidney stones 

1972 Being called to the principals office
2002 Calling the principals office 

1972 Screw the system
2002 Upgrade the system 

1972 Disco
2002 Costco

1972 Parents begging you to get a haircut
2002 Children begging you to cut their hair

1972 whatever
2002 depends 

Just in case you were not feeling old enough yet, this next bit of information will change things. 

Each year the staff at Beliot college in Wisconsin puts together a list to try to give the faculty a sense of the mindset of that particular years incoming Freshman students. 

Here is this years list (caveat. I believe this was 2003) 

The students who are starting this fall across the nation were born in 1983. They are to young to remember the space shuttle blowing up. Their lifetime has always included AIDS. Bottle caps have always been screw off or plastic. 

The CD was introduced the year they were born. They have always had an answering machine. They have always had cable. They cannot fathom not having a remote control. Jay Leno has always been on the tonight show. Popcorn has always been cooked in the microwave oven. 

They never took a swim and thought about Jaws. They cannot imagine what hard contacts are. They do not know who Mork or where he was from. They never heard "where's the beef", "Id walk a mile for a camel"  or, "de plane boss" de plane..... 

Love

"love"

Anger

Dark, blood red, black...

Anger

rage

Let it go

love 

hate

anger

let it go

Love

  

 

The keeper

I grew up with practical parents, 

A mother, god love her, who washed aluminum foil after she cooked in it, then re used it. She was the original recycle queen before they had a name for it. 

A father who was happier getting old shoes fixed then getting new ones. 

Their marriage was a good one. Their dreams focused. Their best friends lived barely a walk away. 

I can see them now, dad in his trousers, mom in her house dress. Lawn mower in his hand, dish towel in her's. 

It was a time for fixing things, a curtain rod, the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress. Things we keep. 

It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy. 

There is no wealth but life.
~John Ruskin

All that re-fixing,  re- heating, renewing. I wanted, just once, to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence, throwing things away meant you knew there would be more. 

But then my mother died. and on that clear spring evening, in the warmth of the hospital room, I was struck with the pain of knowing that sometimes there isn't anymore. 

Sometimes, what we care about most, gets all used up and goes away...never to return.  So, while we have it, it's best we love it, care for it, and fix it when it's broken, and heal it when it's sick. 

This is true, for marriage and old cars; children with bad report cards, dog's with bad hips, ageing parents and grandparents. 

We keep them because they are worth it, like a best friend who moved away, or friends you grew up with. They are people and things that make life important, like people we know are special. 

 We keep them close. The keepers 

poetry in motion

Time 

My kids, my life....

Shades, time phases; 

years, numbers, spaces....

my life...

Sun, wind, rain.......

Time

My life. 

K. Surdyk 

Bragging Rights

Antony Youseff Ahmed 

I've always said, I was proudest of my 1st born son, and I still say it. 

Antony has always been my rock. Through good times and bad. He's always been the closest to me, out of all my children. 

I don't know why, but I can guess it has a lot to do with everything he has been through, and everything we both went through. 

He's stayed focused in school, highschool, and now college. He has a full credit load at the University of Washington, and he works full time. 

In his spare time, and there is not a lot of that, he takes private dance classes, that he pays for himself. 

My son is amazing. He's driven. He knows what he wants and he goes after it. 

One of the things that I have recently been proud of, has been his dance. For the last 2 years, he has taken private lessons. He's good. I've watched him. 

I used to dance, and I like to say that Antony got a little of this from me. It was always my love. My passion. Dancing. And now my son is dancing. 

The team he is with, are selling t-shirts. They are also selling thier story. You can find it here, and this web addresss 

http://www.onesecretmission.com/thebeginnings

My son's photo is also used on the landing page, and when you click to pre order, you can click the 4th picture and that is also my son. 

I am SO proud of him!!! 

I wish him all the success in the world. He deserves it. Not just because of his hard work, but because he's good, and working on being great. (although I already think he is, great that is) 

This kid is my heart, I would do anything in my power for him. 

I love you Antony Ahmed. 

The Windchime

I sit with my back to them.  Silent.  No wind, no thoughts... 


and then, I hear it, a tune... soft, notes, drifting on the air.... 

It's barely there, but I catch it, as I turn, I see the slight breeze

the chimes are moving, in a distinct patteren... odd I think..

it's a melody; unlike anything I have ever seen, or  heard from a windchime...

It's not chaotic, the way you would exspect it to be with the wind. 


It becomes quiet again,  I watch the chimes sway,  but not making a sound...

I contemplate what I heard;  my mind drifting....dreaming,  thoughts of Bobby fliting by...



I focus on  Bobby then.... he's been here once, last summer, he knew I lived here long ago...

We came to visit.  He told me we should live here again, he liked it. The order, and calmness ....

He knows I am here now, he's letting me know through the chimes. 

He's playing a song to comfort me. 


Three times now when I have gone to sit outside, I have heard the same notes. 

playing lightly in the breeze... almost saying, you are fine now, you will be fine now..

I am here...I am here...I am here with you... 

I've always loved windchimes;  more now,  when I here the same pattern,  the same notes


I know it is Bobby with me,  watching over me.... playing his song for me.

I miss you every hour

I miss you every hour, and you know what the worst part is? It catches me by surprise. I find myself walking around to find you, to talk with you. 

Missing you, every hour 

Not for any reason, out of habit, because I've seen somthing I want to tell you about or read something I want to read to you. 

I want to hear you're voice, and then I realize, you aren't here anymore. And every time, every single time, it knocks the wind out of me. 

I walk the places we used to go, the beach, the lake. Gone to clubs, looking for you. It's just the worst. 

Not seeing you, not heaing you speak, not listening to you breathe. I want to talk about our future, the one we planned. 

I miss you, and I hate knowing that you are gone from me. You're scent is still on your pillow, in our room. 

On the clothes that were you're's,  that now are mine, that I wear when I sleep. I turn over in my sleep to hold you, and wake to find you gone. 

I remember you would tell me, you want me in bed with you, Me breathing on your neck, my hair in your mouth. I count that as something as a miracle you would say. 

I want that... I want you back, and I can't have you. You are gone from me and I miss you every hour. 

He opened my heart

He opened my heart and unraveled the last shred of decency I possesed. 

only Bobby will ever have my heart 

His eyes stripped me, his hands laid me bare. His touch was heaven, his words like wine. 

I lost myself in him, day after day, night after night. 

He knew all my secrets, all my life. He knew me as the sun knows the moon. 


I was helpless to his love, he gave like no other. 

He took nothing in return, except my soul. He owned me. 

He taught me about the world, how to love without reserve. 

He was everything to me. 


In return, I gave of myself, all that I was. 

All that I will ever be, he was the one. 

He opened my heart, he owned me. He will always own me. 

The only one who will ever touch me, 

The way he touched me. 


There will never be another, who can do this to me. 

I will never be open again, the way I was with him. 

My soul will not be bared, my secrets not shared. 

There will only be ever him. 

And the sun, and the moon. 


Was I beautiful, so he loved me, or was his love that made me beautiful? 

Alone in society

Empty, alone and searching; no answers anywhere

Alone

pain fills the void you left for me, 

 I look for you everywhere

A mountain of things around me, there's no meaning

The air is suffocating, I'm trying to break free


The sun is shining brightly, I see nothing but the clouds

pain fills the void you left for me,

Misunderstood in society, I'm viewed as a passing ship

sinking on the horizon, did you intend to slip? 


I sit in our room, in the shadows, no light from anywhere

Your absense feels like knives to me, the pain unberable, 

yet I get up each day and face it, alone in society.


Through trials and tribulations, 

I've made each day seem new, but since I lost your love for me, 

I've been alone in society. 



Empty, alone and searching, no answers anywhere, 

Pain fills the void you left for me, 

I look for you everywhere. Misunderstood in society, 

I'm viewed as a passing ship. 

Are you listening

I hope that you are  listening, 

 I can only speak so loud....

 tears streaming down, 

In the middle of a crowd. 

spinning around in circles; wondering where you are right now


Alone on the highway,  cars flying by

feeling invisible...wondering why

There seem to be no answers; I'm falling to the ground

It's cold and lonely here, is anyone around? 


I hope that you are  listening, 

 I can only speak so loud....

I'm standing here with tears streaming down, 

In the middle of a crowd. 

Spinning around in circles; wondering where you are right now


People all around me, their shapes and colors blurred, 

I look for you when spinning, but can't find you in this crowd

Please help me make it through this, 

I can't do it on my own


I hope that you are  listening, 

 I can only speak so loud...

 tears streaming down, 

In the middle of a crowd. 

Spinning around in circles; wondering where you are right now


If you can hear the music, and see me where I am, 

feel my heartbeat when your near me, see my dreams 

when I'm asleep. Do you feel me when your passing,

are you the breeze that follows me. 


In the middle of a crowd, I stand so all alone..

My tears are falling faster;  I cannot see the ground

I feel like I am drowning

I hope that you're still listening, 

I can't do this all alone. 

Further away

I look for you; every day and night 

I don't think I agree with all the euphemisms about death. As I am laying here, pondering 
what my life is now going to look like without Bobby in it; It seems to me, at least it feels 
like, the further away I get from his passing date, the process of grieving becomes harder. 

I have purused sight's that offer inspirational quotes, and sayings, beautiful pictures and thoughts of where our loved one may be. I have listened to other friends storys on how they managed to go on with thier life after the loss. 

Friends say that the pain will ease with time, that down the road, or for however long it takes a person to grieve, you will look back and realize that you have healed. 

I have to wonder, how? What does that look like, what does that feel like? It's March; sunshine and spring like weather. I am finding that I become more and more panic stricken, the further away I get. 

From the last time we spoke, the last time we kissed, and held hands. My head on his chest, his arm around me. Him calling me sweetheart. Telling me how much he loved me. The trip to the hospital. 

The last 9 days. Trying to process what is happening. Making decisions based on test results. Those last 9 days were so very precious to me, even more so than the 9 months we were together.

It's all I have. re-living those moments. Remembering his beautiful smile, holding him while he slept; with medicines to ease his pain. Those moments too, were such a blessing to me. I wonder; how anyone can possibly go on, so far past the last time . 

The further away I get, from his last words to me, the harder this becomes. 

In the sunshine

I will forever love you Bobby G. Riddle. 

I fell in love with you in the sunshine; dancing on the commons to the music. 

We were an unlikley pair, you older; more refined. Me, with a streak of wildness still. 

A glint of mishief in you're eyes that mirrored my own. A sense of adventure, a craving for life. 

We laughed under the stars. You said the 1st kiss was when you knew. That it told you all you needed to know. 

We spent the summer going to festivals;  dreaming of having a life together. We made plans into the morning hour's, until we fell asleep in each others arms. 

Each day for us was a new exsperience in learning each other. Our connection was old, and deep. A connection that was time honored. 

Our love was mature; a love that was not based on intamacy, but more intimate than we both had ever had. 

I dread the sunshine this year; yet yearn for it at the same time. Like a young girl, looking for who she loved, and still loves.  I want to find you again, in the rays that warm me. In the music we both loved. 

I want to sit on our deck and think of you with me. Still loving me; in the sunshine. 

Almost spring.....

It's almost spring, or so it seems.... with the blue skies and sunlight shinning in our windows. 

I love you Bobby G. Riddle 

I fell in love with you in the springtime, and our summer was the most wonderful summer I have ever had. It has always been my favorite time of year, and being with you made it all the more beautiful. 

Everything sparkled and shined. My days were brighter with you in them.  Quiet days on the Lake, watching the world go by with the music playing softly in the background. Our summer nights, dancing with the fairy lights on, on the back deck. 

How I loved you Bobby, and oh, how I miss you. The sun is shinning on the deck where you held me in your arms and we last danced as the sun was setting.  I will miss our walks in the little towns we loved, strolling down the sidewalk, holding hands,  window shopping. 

I wore dresses all the time for you. You loved them, and so did I. They were long and flowing, with beautiful flowers on them. So spring like. I wore them through the summer for you. any chance I had, I would. 

We would go to the beach and watch the boats on  the water. Our favorite place was sunset park on Lake Stevens. The town where I grew up at. We would stop and get fried chicken and jo jo's,  your favorite, and you would bring you're fishing gear. 

I know that this summer is going to be hard for me, but I will wear the dress you bought me, and go to all our favorite places. I will put the music on at night, and sit on the back deck while the sunsets and think of you. 

I will try to find peace in my heart, knowing you will be with me in spirit as I do the things we both loved. You took my heart with you when you left, and I am no longer the same girl you fell in love with. 

Your love changed me for the better, and your leaving has changed me again. I will honor you Bobby, for the man you were. Loving life, and people and music. I will do the same in your name this spring and summer,  for I know this is what you would want me to do. 

Your strength and beauty as a man, touched me deeply. I have never loved the way I loved you. I will forever miss you. 

R.I.P Bobby G. Riddle 5-11-56 ~1-20-2015 

His hands

He had amazing hands; when he would hold mine, they fit. Perfect, like a glove. I was facinated by them. 

Even though he was taller than me, his hands were slender and petite. He played bass. I'm told he was a world class bassist. He was capable of making beautiful music. 

The 1st time he touched me, I thought I was in heaven. He knew me like he knew his instrument. It was like he had always known me. He said he could not get enough of me. 

His hands knew where to touch, how to touch. The maturity in his love making was sheer torture,  and passion combined. I could not get enough of him. He would play me for hours. Loving me, pleasing me. He would not let me pleasure him. Not until he thought I had been pleasured. Not until I was satiated and pliant. 

It was all about me he would say. If he died right then, he would be a happy man he would say. That 1st time.... that very 1st time, he made love to my heart. Thereafter, I would watch his face. He gave me a glimpse of love I had never seen. A glimpse of what loving someone was really like. His face said it all. 

I knew his words were not the lines of a man wanting sex. What we had was not sex. It was pure lovemaking. This man, who had been my friend for 5 years, and was now my lover; was beautiful. 

His hands tuned me, like he tuned his bass. I was irrevocabley his. He was mine. Our spirits connected on a level I had never known before him. Nor will I ever know again. 

Those last moments

Oh, what I would give to have those last moments alone with him again. 

Bobby G. Riddle
I love you 

Quietly, in his hospital bed, beside him, as the nurses come and go like shadows in the night; To repeat this, over and over again. 

So precious to me... his final hours; to see him pucker to kiss me, to watch him sleep so peacefully... 

It was 9 day's, like the 9 months we had together. Such a short time, yet seemed so long. It was like I knew him my whole life, and had been waiting for him. 

I would have those 9 months back if I could, I would have those last 9 days.... to have them play endlessly like the music we loved so much.... 

Friends, coming and going, all quiet, respectful of him. To exsperience this again, to see him smile when they came. 

To hear him tell me he loved me, one last time... 

These moments, play over and over in my heart and mind when I go to sleep at night; but how I wish I could have them again. 

You're strong

Am I? 

Sometimes I wonder.

I knew who I was before Bobby. I knew who I was while I was with Bobby.  Now I don't. 

They say grief changes you, and I guess they are right.  I was always the strong one. Anything that came my way I was capable of dealing with. I was married for 17 years...I had 3 boys, and custody of my granddaughter during that time. I thought when my ex left me, it was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. 

It took me a month to figure out that I would be fine and what had happened, was meant to happen. Yes, it through me for a loop, yes, it screwed my kids up for a bit. Probably still has some lasting effects on them, but the bottom line is, I made it through it. 


In the last 5 years, I have had crisis after crisis happen in my life. going from what I thought was a solid marriage to divorce, to loosing my home, my livelyhood, and then utimaetly, my children. (well, one grew up, one went back to her mom) but 2 of them, went to dad, after a 4 year battle. 

My illness... there is another "crisis" I deal with. (not really a crisis, I have dealt with it since 2001) Not by any means has it been easy, but I dealt with it. 

Now, I find myself incapable of dealing with anything. Much less my current situation, my illness, or my livelyhood. I don't know who I am. I am not strong. Not anymore at least. 

I sit here... listen to music, cry, watch a movie, cry, make everything silent, yet still cry. This is not the me I knew. I don't have a picture in my head of what my life is suppose to look like now. I still know what I want.... as far as my writing, publishing a book, and my business, that is closed at the moment, but I do NOT know how to make these things happen now. 

I'm immobolized. I have these fleeting ideas of doing things... playing piano again, writing some songs.... finishing my schooling with the I.S.A, going to Eruope and getting my appraisers license. Finishing this damn book.... but I don't even know what THAT looks like now. 

I know grief is everlasting. I know everyone processes differently. I know THIS loss has had the power to bring me to my knees. Literally. But I also know life goes on. I know that Bobby would want that for me. 

I feel the need to hurry up and get past the grief that is immobolizing me, to get these things done, the things I talked about wanting. I just don't know that I can... and I don't know why I feel that urgency to do so. 

That is what scares me... that is why I do not feel strong any longer...I'm just not anymore. I'm tired. I'm tired of dealing with anything anymore.... 

Last night....

Bobby G. Riddle
my love
Jan. 20 2015

He came to me in my dreams....

It was beautiful; I could feel his warmth, here his voice, whispering softly to me... 

It would be OK he said... You will be OK. 

I turned to him, he softly touched my cheek... like an angels wing.. barely there...

but felt. 

I could hear the music in his heart; the love flowing from him.....

He was my lyric, I was his melody...... 

He quietly gazed upon me as I slept; watching over me... 

Etheral.... beautiful, Gaurding me....

My beautiful man came to me; in my dreams....

last night. 

I don't want to be here...........

Another point in my life I don't want to be at........ tired of changes, transitions, pain, loss.... tired of it all. 

Constant circles, ever changing, ever moving.... to much pain in the last 3 years...numb....brokenhearted

Disappointment, anger......... someone make me believe..I don't anymore... 

I am going through my blog, and come across this... this was writenn prior to Bobby and I becoming an item, it was still in draft form... but oh wow.... did I see what was coming?

How apropos that I stumble across this at this point in my life. It speaks volumes to how I have been feeling lately. 

I try hard not to question what happens in life, I know it is all for a reason, so normally I roll with it. 

This time is not so easy... in fact that is an understatment. What the hell is god trying to teach me here? 

I can't do this anymore... I am so numb to everything. I can't put on music, I cry... I can't think straight... 

why am I going through my writing?  I just need all this to stop, I really can't take anymore. Just stop.... 

A brief moment in time

I knew you for 5 years. I became more than just you're friend for the last 9 months of your life. 

In looking back over our time together we were happiest when we were out and about, listening to music, going to open jams, seeing friends, and being on the move. We shared a common love of music and people. 

In getting to know you, I found we had many things in common. Our love of country music, and classic movies. Westerns, and old musicals. On the nights we would stay in, whether it was at the lake house or the town house, we would put on music and dance. 

We also had the same moral compass, and values, when it came to marriage, relationship's  and children. I think that is what I loved most about you. 

You wanted me to teach you how to dance. The old way of dancing, 3 step, or swing, and then more competitive dance, salsa and Paso Doble. I did get to teach you some more complicated moves, and you had those down pat, I regret we did not get to use them when we were out and about. 

We both loved the serenity of the water, and when we looked at potential places to live together we always searched in area's that had water close by.We both loved going to the dock in Lake Stevens to fish. Those moments with you, I will treasure always. They were the calmest times. 

It's funny how my life circle always comes back to where I grew up at. We talked about this, where we both had been in life. The clubs and studios we both were apart of, and yet we never crossed paths.  You would laugh and tell me not to read anything into it. It was what it was. However, that was not my belief, nor was it your's. 

I always teased you for the butterfly tattoo. Why would a man would get one of that particular mythical creature when it was more to a womans liking? I never asked you, and when I would tease, you were always cryptic in your answer to me. This was so like you, so I would let it go, to honor who you were. 

In looking back over the last 9 months, the signs were there for me, but I did not see them for what they were. This is the painful part. I loved you, and would have done anything for you, You knew that and I think that is why you pursued me in the 1st place, and then later were surprised by who I actually was. This is when we truely fell in love. 

I wish you would have trusted me, just a little bit more. I wish you would have said. But you did not. This also was so totally you, and again I had to honor you. I think you knew you could have told me, but you were also honoring me in a way, or you thought you were. That was the one thing you truly did not know about me, that I would have done anything within my power to make your last moments the happiest they could have been. 

Our last 2 outings were in November of 2014. Prior to these, we had pretty much stopped going out. We watched a lot of movies, played a lot of music, and danced on our porch. I could see the pain you were in at the fleetwood mac concert. I could see it more at Jano's harvest party. I thought it was you're shoulder, and you let me believe that. I even knew it was a struggle for you to get out to those last 2 events, yet you did it for me.

Beautiful man, do you know how much you were loved? How much you will be missed? I see butterflys everywhere now and it is not even spring. I see them in photo's, in pictures in store windows that I wander by. I believe that it is you, still watching over me.

You had the most beautiful music playing on your passage to heaven. As it should be. You were my angel in life, and you are my angel in death.  I only had you for a brief moment in time, such a short time, yet our love was rare and beautiful, like the mythical creature, your butterfly. 

To the man with the sweetest heart and soul ever known. May you rest in the arms of the angels, soar with the butterflys that you represented so well. 

They say that time in heaven is compared to a "blink of an eye" for us here on earth. It helps me to think of you running ahead through a field of wildflowers and butterflys; so happy, and so caught up in what you are doing that by the time you look behind you, I will already be there.  I love you with all my heart and soul Bobby G. and will forever look for you in the butterflys. 

Bobby G. Riddle. 

May 11th 1956 - January 20th 2015