In Search of Forever Love

The idea of a love that lasts forever is one for us hopeful romantics. A theme for songs. For poems. For novels. And, for Hollywood movies (at least the chick flick variety).

Can one love in our life last forever? One love who is there through it all? Through thick and thin? Through ups and downs? As the Disney-theory goes, one would have to say “yes” to those questions. But, from life as I’ve seen it (and from what I’ve seen with so many others), I would say, “not exactly.”

As a friend once suggested, and as my life experiences have played out, there may be several loves in one’s lifetime. Several mates and partners that, each time, we think we are in love with them. The level of love may be different with each of those too. From first loves to lustful loves to this seems like I should make it work love. Maybe for each of those time periods in our life, those different loves worked?

Were we really sure that we were in love in each of those relationships? While we are in them we may think so. There’s the excitement. The butterflies. The passion. But is everything else there that should accompany those feelings? The sharing? The day to day rituals? The leaning on and being there for one another unconditionally? The dreaming of and working towards a future together? All of these things, along with the excitement, butterflies and passion should definitely be there.

Hindsight is 20/20. Looking back usually tells a different story. Initially we think we have those things. But careful or sometimes just obvious thought reveals that we didn’t have true love. It may have been young. It may have been forced. Or, it may have just been about sex and lust. Yea, good sex and lust can certainly feel like love.

Perhaps these different loves we thought we had are really just stepping stones for us? Steps that give us the background and knowledge for what we really want? Or, steps that give us the knowledge of what we don’t want? Steps that have given us experiences to compare what we’ve had to what we really need. Steps that show us how we treat others and how we should be treated.

I’d like to think that, now, as I am in my mid-40s that I have finally found my Forever Love. Funny thing is that I wasn’t even looking for it when it happened. I have been blown away by how right everything is with Five Eleven. How I have fallen in love with her from the inside out. By not looking, by not forcing a relationship, by starting out with a genuine friendship, I found someone who has matched up with all that I have ever wanted. Someone who totally gets me for me. And, who treats me the way I feel I have always deserved to be treated. And she loves the way that I treat her. It’s comfortable. We fit. How lucky am I?

So, from here on out, I figure I still have forever. Forever to experience and live life. And, now, I can do all that with my Forever Love.

How about you? Have you found your Forever Love? When did you find it? What makes it so special for you? Did you ever think you had it, but found out otherwise? Please share your thoughts below. Thanks!

@Ybbeige

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

The kinda story we hope has forever love.

Remember That One Time When You Were a Felon?

Life is never dull. That’s for sure. Either you find excitement or it comes to you. Well, it came to me. 

I’d like to think that I’m a fairly good judge of character and that I tend to gravitate towards people who are generally good…at least in the law-abiding sense. So imagine my response when I found out that I was dating a felon. Astonishment. Disbelief. What the heck? And, are you freakin’ kidding me?

Here I thought Five Eleven was a wonderful, sensitive woman. Caring, thoughtful, smart, funny, handy as all get out. A boi. Her own self. Great with kids. An incredible lover. Never did I think she was a watch-out-you-just-dropped-the-soap kind of lover.

I'm sorry that my life is so dull that I do not have actual pictures of friends in jail.
I had to resort to birds in cages. I do have a friend who works in a prison. Does that count?

How could a woman who has served in Desert Storm, Afghanistan and Iraq end up as a felon? A woman who worked as a drill sergeant to help turn around severely troubled youth in our country? A woman who has been nothing but supportive for me through this whole head injury? The idea just blew my mind. And, hers actually.

It turns out that Five Eleven is not a felon. (You can breathe a sigh of relief Mom and Dad). But, she was called one for about two weeks. Five Eleven was trying to get a new job. She passed the interviews, drug screenings and physical tests (that other women just haven’t been able to) with flying colors. Then it came to having a background check.

Thank goodness the pet store had two kinds of birds in cages to
add visual interest to this post.
Actually, I know I have pics somewhere from when I
used to have a Blue & Gold Macaw...hmm...

It’s amazing how companies who do background checks don’t always look you up with your social security number. Scary actually. Why do we even have that number then? Where Five Eleven used to live, there were a dozen people in that same county with her first, middle and last name. So, is it any wonder that someone else with that same name would have a criminal record? And have spent three years in prison? If the background company actually verified her work history, they would have seen that she was busily employed then and not spending time in some jail for embezzlement. Or, a quick call to the State Police like she did would have clarified things immediately.

So, being a felon put Five Eleven’s hiring date back some which has been a bit of a nuisance, but the good news is she has a new job and she is no longer a felon. Phew! We will be talking about this for a good long time, I’m sure. Like, forever. Even telling our grandkids about it. I can tell them about my time at Band Camp (which we really just called Band in the summer). And, she can tell them about …that one time…when she was at felon camp. You go, good-bad Grandma!*

*Five Eleven does not want to be called Grandma in real life. We have many years (I hope) to contemplate what we’d like to be called by our future Grandbabies.

@Ybbeige

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

My Boyfriend Died

Yep. He did. He was a cute little thing too. Thank you for your condolences. Now, before you get all crazy with a, “But I thought she was a lesbian and now she has a boyfriend,” attitude, let me clarify. My Boyfriend was a fish. A cute little corydoras catfish. RIP little fish.

No, My Boyfriend is not in this picture. Never did get a picture of him.
Fish do not pose.

And that was his name. My Boyfriend. My Oldest and I laughed like crazy when we came up with that name. And then we laughed every time we talked about him. It sounded better when she said it, because, well, I have a girlfriend. Even Five Eleven was thrown off a bit when I first mentioned My Boyfriend to her. I don’t think that’s something your girlfriend wants to hear.

So, when I had my drink first by the tank, the fish swam over to check out the straw.
As soon as I pulled out my camera to get a picture of them "drinking," they stayed away.

You probably also want the details on what happened. I’m thinking the pH got off and he couldn’t handle it like the other fish. My Boyfriend was delicate. Obviously too delicate.

So, when we get the pH back in line, I’d like to get another cory or two. We’ll have to name one My New Boyfriend for my Oldest. And the other one, we’ll name, My Boifriend With An I, just because we wouldn’t want it to sound weird or anything when I said it.

@ybbeige

www.barbarabeige.com

Making a Fashion Statement with Medical Tape

“Mom, your glasses don’t match your leather jacket,” says Little One.

“Thank you, honey. They really don’t match anything.”

Remember how I wrote about how everyone thought I looked fine? (Read about that here). Well, now, thanks to a Neuro-Opthamologist, I look like a certified goober. With my new glasses, it looks like there is actually something wrong with me.

Let me explain. I’m now wearing plain glasses with strips of medical tape running vertically by the nose piece. Stylish, huh? The tape is supposed to get a few parts of my brain that have to do with vision, to actually talk with each other. I guess my midline vision and my peripheral vision aren’t working together.

Snazzy, huh? How do you supposed they'd pair with a little black dress?

Picture if everything you looked at was constantly jumping around. So minutely that you don’t notice it (well, sometimes you do), but your brain notices it by scrambling your head and balance. The doctor told me that since I was in such good physical shape when I had the head injury, that I’ve been able to compensate quite well. Well, better than others perhaps, but not perfectly.

I can’t really see the tape while I’m wearing the glasses, but others can’t miss it. I can tell that people just stare. Some may say nothing while I’ve gotten other complete strangers asking about it. I even got a blunt, “What’s wrong with you?” The cashier followed up with a quick apology.

I can still see with them on, thank goodness.

Now, this can actually be a positive. Like, when I’m in the checkout line and I can’t remember the pin number for my debit card to save my life. Instead of staring blankly at the pin pad or guessing on several number combinations that sound vaguely familiar, I can point at my glasses and say, “Head injury. Can you run that as credit instead?”

I have some good friends who have tried to be positive about their comments to make me feel good.

“You can hardly even see the tape,” they say. But they saw it to tell me.

Or, “You look good in glasses.” While hinting that there are nicer frames available.

Or, “It looks like a new type of bifocal.” Uh huh. Not.

I had a really good friend say to me when she saw them for the first time, “What’s with the goggles?!” Because there is no hiding an elephant in the room. Thank goodness for true friends.

No matter what anyone thinks, I’m going to continue wearing them. And crossing my fingers that they work. It sure would be nice to have my balance back so I feel more sure-footed and perhaps can ride a bicycle again (or learn to surf). And, they are supposed to help with the constant headaches and nausea that accompany the swirling in my head.

Plus, if this works to the point where I don’t have to wear them anymore, I wouldn’t have to worry about trying to coordinate my outfits with medical tape, since obviously, nothing really matches it anyway.

@Ybbeige

www.barbarabeige.com

Trippin’ Like Alice

I find that I like making analogies and comparing bits of my life to other things. A while back, I compared relationships to a ten-speedbike. As of late, I’ve been feeling like my life is like a fairy tale. I’ve got love in my life like a happy Disney movie. Yay. But, then, I’ve got JeffersonAirplane White Rabbit, swirly, non-sensical, 1865 Lewis Carroll, voodoo stuff going on too.

My inability to stay focused on any task at hand and the constant nausea and spinning in my brain has me feeling like I’m tripping like Alice in Wonderland. Not to mention the going from drug to drug to “help” with my post-concussive syndrome. I wish I could take a drug and just grow out of this or shrink out of it…either way…like Alice did. And, then, I’d be done with it all. But, no. I’m just so sensitive to meds. Most have made me feel more cloudy or foggy than I already am. And, I’m not really sure if they could cure it, but just lessen some side effects.

Teas sometimes help with headaches. I swear this one made with mushrooms
makes me have funky dreams. Look for them at your local Asian market.

Obviously, the whole story of Alice in Wonderland was like one big drug trip (though I’ve heard the author says otherwise). I’d like to say that I have personal college experience to compare it to, that I inhaled, but no, I’m your typical goody-two-shoes. A square. My closest comparison would be doctor-prescribed medicines. What I’ve experienced sounds like what friends have described at parties (at college or the like). I personally don’t like what I’ve experienced. My reaction is one of the reasons I fought so hard to have surgery without being put under.

I think, too, that I’m the type of person who experiences all those scary, horrible side effects that you hear on the commercials on TV. Who wants to have difficulty breathing, rashes, dizziness, seizures, bleeding, coma, heart attacks, stroke, urinary tract infections, thoughts of suicide, your bits falling off, death? Okay, I’m not sure about your bits falling off, but I’ve heard all the other ones mentioned and have experienced way too many side effects to be comfortable with. So, why would anyone in their right mind want to take something with those possible side effects? Death? Really? Good times. Neat.

I haven’t found that any of the drugs I took had benefits that outweighed the side effects I felt. Why would I choose to be groggy 18 hours after taking something to help me sleep? And, it didn’t even help me sleep, just kept me awake and groggy through the night. Thank goodness I have a sister who is a pharmacist. She’s been able to tell me that I’m having a reaction and how to stop (you can’t always go cold turkey). Are those allergic reactions what people like to experience? Is that the “high” that people talk about?

Oh, like carrying around little wax paper things of white powder doesn't look sketchy?
Five Eleven told me about this. I seriously thought she was doing something illegal.
It's a southern thing.

I used to be the person who would throw out their Advil and Tylenol because it would be outdated before I even came close to using a small bottle up. (Yes, my pharmacist sister is all about dates on meds). Now, I’ve used up those bottles trying to find relief for my headaches, but they have never actually taken the entire headache away.

Do you take meds for something? Do you find that they actually help you? Do you experience side effects? Do you like those side effects? Can you live with what you have without take any meds?

I’ve found myself having to live with new levels of headaches. What used to be a 4 or 5 (on the pain scale out of 10) when this whole thing happened, occasionally goes up to a 6 or 7 or even 8. Then, I have to wait until my body gets used to that new level and feels like a 4 or 5 again to me. Not fun, but what else do I do?

Generic Advil and Benadryl. Benadryl helps with nausea.
Just makes you sleepy unless you're one of the people it makes jittery.

I’m not all anti-drug, just so you know. I don’t mind some drugs. Allergy meds in the spring and Benadryl are my friends. When my doctor highly recommends something that may help me, I’ll now take her advice and try it. Even if I start with half of the most possible baby dose they make. And, one of these days, we might actually find something that works where I’m not trippin’ like Alice.

@Ybbeige

http://facebook.com/barbarabeige

There is mention of meds during childbirth in my book here

The Snow and My Brain

All these pictures were taken on one recent winter’s day.

I’m driving through this period in my life…my time with what I have to call “living with a brain injury.” Hi, my name is Barbara. And, I have a brain injury. Who woulda knew?

Almost ten months now. No other way to describe it. I’m trying to accept it. I even go to a brain injury support group. Wouldn't have guessed I'd ever be doing that either.

My life is very different. Trying to figure out where I'm going. At times, it feels heavy. There’s an amount of grief involved.

It pulls…it weighs…

I know this is not who I was…it’s not who I want to be. Will I find a happy medium?

I try to use humor every day. Have to learn to make fun of myself even more than I do.

I still try to see the beauty in and around my life.

The lightness of my world.

And not dwell on the constant pain in my head or get wrapped up in the changes that have made me not feel like me. But, it’s hard.

I have to believe that time will heal my head. (Yes, B., more time. Be patient.)

And maybe someday, I can use what I’ve learned to help others? To give them hope that the cold and dark winter they think they always feel…will eventually warm and that their thoughts and bodies will once again…just flow.

That’s what I’m wishing for.

@Ybbeige

www.barbarabeige.com

A story written by the old me…of loss, love, hope and new love…Unexpectations.

Everyone Is Damaged

A conversation with a friend today prompted me to come up with this. 

The rose is from Five Eleven from Valentine's Day.

@Ybbeige
http://facebook.com/barbarabeige
www.barbarabeige.com
Unexpectations on Kindle