the Quiet Presence

          A thousand words to describe myself, I can't imagine being able to write a thousand words about me. I am not the most interesting of people, although some people think I am, mostly family though, so does that count ? I am a dreamer, a believer in causes, a collector of quotes. I love critters and I don't mean as tasty little morsels. There have been times in my life, the dark years, where the only thing that kept me in this realm was the thought,
"Who will feed my cats when I am gone ? "

          My oldest kitty will be 17 in October, my youngest is three. Perhaps I keep collecting them as an excuse to stick around. They are joined, as well, by a Mutt and Jeff, team of dogs, a mahogany red Doberwoman, Chili-dog, and her attitude loaded side kick, Flea, a yorkie. Both were "used" dogs when they came into my company, castaway pets, unwanted, as with the rest of my critters, but not anymore. The only store bought pet is my prairie dog, Tumbleweed, alias Chub-Chub. A fireball in a fur coat who chases the cats and beats them up, and who feels as safe in my bed at night as he does inside my doberman's mouth.

          I started writing early on, though my attempts were feeble at best, and mostly animal stories. I remember the hatred I felt for my 6th grade English teacher when she insisted that for the whole school year, we were to keep journals. She said that she was not interested in reading them, as she checked them weekly, only that we wrote, one-half a page daily, about whatever we wanted. I tested that theory often, by writing mean things about her or filling the bottom of my entrys with "blah, blah, blah". I got an A. In retrospect, I should have taken more from the lesson, like discipline, commitment, things I could use now in application to writing, one of the things I love and would love to pursue, alas... I keep a journal now, and have for years, but my entries no longer have to include "blah, blah, blah".

          My life is usually hectic, home-based business (a Dental Laboratory, I make dentures, partials and orthodontic appliances ), house, husband, animals.... stolen moments to write. No children but, a great respect for those who do, and can still find time for everything. Though I am over forty, (just barely ! ) I still have goals, and fears. My biggest fear is to die without ever have made a difference. My biggest goal is to change my little corner of the world, not the whole world (I gave up on that ), just my little corner. And, I daydream constantly about it, wanting to be a hero of sorts, doing something that matters, touching another's life somehow to make it better, making people laugh, even if it is at my expense, trying to help. I want to be remembered as "the Quiet Presence". Just sounds cool. The best compliment I ever received was not, "you're pretty", "you're smart", or "you're so funny ", it was "I think you are the coolest person I have ever met". Ahhh, music to my ears. I married the guy.

          Time is irrelevant yet persistent. Over forty, but still throwing birthday parties and paper wads, planting flowers for butterflies, digging graves for the strays killed in the street, going to rallies To Support Our Troops. I refused long ago to grow up, so now I am just growing 'out'; A member in good standing of the "cube club", currently as wide as I am tall (I wasn't always this way!) , but thank-fully only 5'2", at least I know there is an end in site, even if I can't find my own anymore.

          And always drifting to the dark side for my writing. Dark poetry and writing have been my lifelong passion. My favorite authors include Piers Anthony, Longfellow, and of course, Poe. Stephen King tends to give me nightmares, and with two failed marriages under my belt already, I have enough of those. My first marriage went awry after the honeymoon, but managed to stretch into four and a half years. I got rid of the husband and kept his little sister, the best decision of my life. She is my friend and inspiration, her children are 'my girls'. She is my biggest fan, as I am hers. And she thinks I am cool, like I said, Good choice. She has repaid my decision by hooking me up with my current husband, although there are some days that the jury is still out on that one.....

          Exasperating ? Infuriating ? Aggravating ?
Yes, that is my husband. Oh, you know him ? ! ?
But I love him, with all his faults. Lord knows I have so few. The days with him are a precarious balance between looking at him with "love eyes" and looking at him thinking
" Who is this Stranger ? " I mean, I know his name and that we are married, but WHO is that stranger ? But, then, there are days I look in the mirror and ask the same question.

          Can we ever really know another person ? Can we ever really know ourselves ? A thousand words to introduce yourself seems so monumental a task, yet can barely scratch the surface.
" People reveal themselves in layers. " How many layers have I revealed today ? How many everyday ? The fear of being to 'well known' keeps me wanting to be home bound, yet forced by circumstance to go out into the world. Keeps me wearing sunglasses to hide my eyes, "the window of one's soul", from the prying glances of so many other strangers. And, always, wondering what thoughts they have when they look in their mirrors.

          The world is a noisy place, but then, so is my head. So many thoughts so little time to get them out. The phone is ringing, the critters are fighting, the voices are getting persistent.
         " That which does not kill us, makes us stronger. " A motto to live by, which I have lived by. I may never turn heads when I enter a room, but my presence is felt. ( Remember, I am a member of the Cube Club. ) A quiet presence in a noisy place. Not normal, but never buying into the ballad of normal. Not afraid to take a stand for what I feel is right and just, so long as I can then, once again, become invisible. Preferring fantasy to reality, dark words to light, sunshine to rain, midnight to morning. Do you know me now ? Do you think I'm cool ?