Run, Little Rabbit, Run

Mindy, my sweet girl, said "Mom, I found your theme song."  I laughed, of course, imagining all of the crazy directions that theme could go.  But Mindy surprised me.  She knows me better than I thought. 

A few months before I had my first Post Traumatic Stress episode, I was taking a class at the U. of U. called The Psychology of Childrens' Literature.  It was a fantastic class that taught me how books can teach children important life lessons in a subtle, gentle way.  On the first day of class, the professor asked us all to say which animal represented out personality.  Some people said magnificent animals, like tigers, eagles, lions, and bears.  Others said dogs or cats.  I said that I was a bunny rabbit.  In my thinking, it was a perfect choice.  I was soft, round and fluffy.  I did not hunt other animals, and I was a peaceful creature.  (One would think, as much as I love horses, that I would have chosen to be a horse.)

When the professor heard my answer, he laughed and said, "Awww, timid little creature.  Watch out for those predators!"

A couple of months after that I saw a face that triggered memories blocked way back in my brain, and that's when my life fell apart. 

So when Mindy gave me my theme song, I wondered, how did she know?  The gentleness of Matt Duke's song is my favorite kind of music, and the lyrics have fit my life at one time or another.  I'd like to think that this shy rabbit has more courage now than when my strange journey called agoraphobia began.

Don't forget to push pause on the music playing (on the right column).

Rabbit

by Matt Duke

Every sentiment hangs around

No longer than a minute or two

I find I keep falling for love

But I can't seem to follow it through

So run, little rabbit, run

I leave one good hand on the wheel

Been counting mile markers for days

Everything falls further behind

I can disappear in several ways

So run, little rabbit, run

Sleep through the morning

Don't wake me up

Sleep through the morning

One little man to one mighty sun

Try to break away from yourself

Throw your broken bones in a heap

All the blood and guts are exposed

Your spirit has been begging to leave

Thanks, Mindy.  I love you.



Bend, Little Willow

I played the song, Little Willow, to Mom in the early morning hours on the day she passed away.  I used to sing it to her when she got restless and combative at the worst times of her dementia.  I've played the CD at home so many times, I'm sure my family knows all of the words by heart.  I've even planted a little willow tree in our back yard in Mom's honor.  It's a fragile little thing, but it bends in the harsh winds.  I can't help but worry about it.  I wish it would grow strong and tall.  It is one of the things that connects me to Mom, so I don't want to lose it. Sometimes I see myself as a little willow tree. 

Today Mindy found a video that tells the story about why Paul McCartney wrote Little Willow.  Anyway, push play, and listen to Little Willow.

(push pause on the music list on the side of the page)





Little Willow

by Paul McCartney

Bend, little willow

Wind's gonna blow you

Hard and cold tonight

Life, as it happens

Nobody warns you

Willow, hold on tight

Nothing's gonna shake your love

Take your love away

No one's out to break your heart

It only seems that way... hey

Sleep, little willow

Peace gonna follow

Time will heal your wounds

Grow to the heavens

Now and forever

Always came too soon

Little willow

Nothing's gonna shake your love

Take your love away

No one's out to break your heart

It only seems that way... hey

Bend, little willow

Wind's gonna blow you

Hard and cold tonight

Life, as it happens

Nobody warns you

Willow, hold on tight

Ah, little willow



 

Tongues are Wagging

Tango is Rick's horse, but now she's kind of my horse. Why?  Because I said so. After having no choice but to ride Tango this last year, we've been through many adventures, and have formed a lovely friendship. It's not nearly as dear as my connection to Scamper, but after all of the crazy things Tango has done to me (yes, I take it personally), I've come to love her.

Tango has a few odd habits when we ride her. Sometimes she'll make a grunting noise while she walks. Our neighbor said she does it because she is a diva.  The other thing that Tango does is really strange. Tango lets her tongue hang out.

You have to see it to believe it. Several of the photos I've taken of Rick riding Tango have her tongue flapping in the wind. She does it no matter who rides her.


This is an important fact to remember when I'm riding her, because when Tango does it to me, if I didn't know better, I'd think she was tired and down-trodden. Fortunately, I don't take it personally because she has done it to all of us.

One day when Rick and I were riding, I was on Tango. She was doing the grunting noise. We were riding on a trail that goes between two rows of homes. I really enjoy it because the gardens are beautiful. Often Rick and I will say hello to kids and adults while they are out in their back yards.

There is a very small incline on the trail, and on this particular day, right next to the incline, the back yard was full of people enjoying a barbecue. Suddenly Tango caught their attention. They could hear the grunts, and gave me an intense look. The parents whispered together. I looked down at Tango, and that darn horse's tongue was wagging. I realized why they were staring.

Being a woman of "girth", I always ask our vet if the horses are strong enough to carry me. I drive him crazy because I ask him so often. I could tell that when the family having the barbecue looked at Tango (grunting and tongue dragging), they had come to the conclusion that poor Tango was being used and abused.

I was so embarrassed and started to giggle. I hollered for Rick to look at his crazy horse. (Tango is his horse when she does crazy stuff like this.) He looked back and laughed out loud. And it was as if Tango knew what those people were saying, because she really made a show of it. Perhaps my neighbor is right, Tango IS a diva.

I tried to get Rick to trade me horses, but he said it would be too much trouble. I pointed out that we were now in familiar territory, and that I would be mortified if my friends and neighbors looked out to see Tango wagging her tongue. They'd all think the same thing ... that a big woman was making her helpless little horse suffer.

There was nothing I could do. I laughed all the way home. I couldn't stop and explain to every person we saw, "She does this with everyone who rides her. It's not just me!"

I kept leaning over to see if Tango's tongue was still out, and sure enough, the whole way home,
Tango wagged her tongue.

You have to admit it, you'd be embarrassed if you were my size, too.

Now every time we ride past that home where the family gawked at me, my cheeks redden just a little bit, and I say, "See,Tango, this is the house that thinks your tortured!" Then I giggle.



See?  It isn't just me!



The Names Have Been Changed To Protect The Innocent

One of Mindy's friends told me a story that made me laugh so hard, I cried.  

A bunch of boys were going on a Scouting trip. They were in the back of a truck that had a shell cover. There were windows on the shell, so the boys could look out while they traveled to a camp in the canyons.

One goofy kid decided he was going to moon people while they were driving. The other boys laughed as he went up to the back of the truck, pulled his pants down to his ankles, and aimed his bare bottom at innocent bystanders.

Suddenly the truck stopped abruptly. The "mooner" lost his balance, and flew backwards, toppling over the other boys. (Please excuse me for a moment, I just got a mental picture. I have to take a break until I can pull myself together.)

The boys were horrified (can you IMAGINE?) that his bare butt was bouncing all over them when the truck took off again. The poor kid, with his pants down to his ankles, could not catch his balance.

None of the boys would help him because they were all laughing and yelling as he tumbled around. I also think that no one wanted to accidentally come in contact with the certain part of him that was unclothed at this inopportune time. 

I guess the reason it strikes me so funny is that I know the boys involved. They are such a cute group of guys. I can just imagine how grossed out they must have been. I also know the poor boy that did the mooning.

The "mooner" doesn't hang around them much anymore. It might have been that it took him several minutes before he could get his pants back on, or the fact that the boys told ALL of the Scouts about his embarrassing experience.

Maybe you had to be there ... but it sure made me laugh when I heard the story.

Just A Phase

Just A Phase

by Mindy Sorensen

Have you ever hurt so much you couldn't stand it

You wish you could be happy for maybe just a little bit

You try to do everything to help ease the pain

Because if it lasts any longer it will drive you  insane

These are the troubles of a sad little girl.

Will someone please stop this madness

I don't want to live a life full of sadness

Pick me up off this cold hard ground

And show me the happiness in life that you have found

Have you ever felt so empty like there's a hole inside

It makes you want to scream, but you just run away and hide

You try to fill the hole but there's a leak and you go back to nothing

You wish with all your heart that you could just feel something

These are the troubles of a sad little girl.

Will someone please stop this madness

I don't want to live a life full of sadness

Pick me up off this cold hard ground

And show me the happiness in life that you have found

Have you ever felt so invisible like people see right through you

You wave your arms in the air but there's nothing you can do

It makes you feel like a wanderer going through life's maze

And you hope and pray that this is just a phase.

Will someone please stop this madness

I don't want to live a life full of sadness

Pick me up off this cold hard ground

And show me the happiness in life that you have found.

Edward Scissorhands

One evening Mindy screamed so loud, I about jumped out of bed. She thundered up the stairs with a look of pure terror in her eyes. I was really frightened by the ghastly look on her face.


"It was horrible, Mom, just horrible!" Pant pant pant. "There's a spider right by the toilet." I pulled her close to me for a hug, and heard Rick guffawing from the other room. I was trying very hard not to laugh. Mindy suddenly pulled away from me.


"You're laughing, aren't you?" she glared. I could not keep it in any longer. I laughed and laughed. When I heard her scream, I thought she'd been hurt in some way. But a spider by the toilet, and her screaming up the stairs like a crazy woman? You have to admit that it is kind of funny.


Mindy explained that she had tried to kill it, but whenever she moved, it just disappeared. We settled her down and Mindy finally went to bed. Rick and I replayed the whole scene with great amusement, but had the decency to keep quiet.


The very next night she came screaming up the stairs again. This time I didn't even try to hide a smile. "Again?" I asked incredulously.


"Yes!" she yelled. "Make Dad go down and kill it. I can't sleep in the basement knowing it is down there." Rick, who thinks spiders are fascinating creatures, told Mindy to go to bed and let the spider have some peace. Mindy went to bed, but she was very angry. And frightened.


It happened every night that week about the same time. The more Mindy saw that spider, the more upset she got. The more she screamed like a banshee, the more annoyed we got. "For goodness sake, Mindy, just kill it." I said. Mindy looked at me like I was the most stupid person on earth.


"I can't, Mom. Every time I make one single movement, it disappears before I can get it." Since Mindy was so upset, I suggested she take a camera down and get a picture of it. Brooke went with her, and together they slipped down to the bathroom. Much to my surprise, Mindy actually got a picture of it. We were thoroughly impressed at the size of the spider.

Rick finally went downstairs to see the spider, and sure enough, it was still there. As Rick tried to kill it, it zipped out of view. He looked all over for it, but it was gone. He came back upstairs to report to two terrifed girls that he didn't kill it. Then Rick said the weirdest thing. "I can't kill it." Rick paused to gauge our reaction. "That spider is too cool to kill. He's huge, and it takes skill to disappear like that. I think we should name him Edward Scissorhands."


I have learned to choose my battles. Realizing that Rick had become attached to Edward, I bought Mindy some spider spray and told her to spray at it until it died. She came upstairs triumphantly the next night. "Edward's dead."


Rick was shocked. He mourned over his beloved Edward Scissorhands. It kind of reminded me of Michael Jackson and his rat friend, Ben. I was just happy that Mindy and Brooke weren't terrified to use the restroom. Now Mindy has a nightly ritual, she sprays the bathroom religiously. She also sprays the hall and her bedroom.


I feel kind of bad about what I did after all the drama died down. It really was a mean thing to do. While I was shopping after Halloween, I found a black rubber tarantaula, with fuzzy legs and a bright orange circle around the top. The orange circle glowed in the dark, so if one were to find it in one's bedroom, they would see the shadows of a ferocious spider. I got it for the bargain price of $1.00, and sent Brooke down to Mindy's room to hide it under her covers.


I forgot all about it until I heard feet pounding up the stairs. "Brooke! You are EVIL!" Mindy screamed. I knew that I better intervene before she tackled poor Brooke, and yelled out that it was me. I knew exactly why she was screaming. She ran into my room with a look of complete disbelief. She could not get any words out for a minute. Then she hissed "I can't believe you would do that to me. I was SO scared, I had no sound to scream."


When Mindy caught her breath, she admitted that it was a pretty good prank. And if anyone deserves a prank, it is Mindy. She is always coming up from behind to scare me. She throws cold water in the tub when I am taking a bath. Mindy is the queen of mischief.  She even hides behind bedding shelves in Target and jumps out at shoppers, scaring them half to death. Mindy knew she deserved it, and she was a great sport about the whole thing. In fact, she was such a great support about it, now I'm scared. She is sure to get even with me.

Dandelion Seeds

Rick said that it's time for me to start writing again.  After Mom passed away, I blogged for a while, and although my blogs were full of grief, it was good therapy.

And then I just ran out of things to say.  I  had all kinds of things running around in my mind.  I was overwhelmed with emotions, but there were just no words to write.

If my life was a tapestry, it would be crazy colors of unraveled threads.  This year has been full of so much change.  Many of the things that made me feel like me have slipped away like dandelion seeds. 

As hard as I've tried, I've been unable to hold on to those gentle seeds.  I am afraid of what my life will be without them. 

For now, at least I finally have something to say.

Running Round in Circles

Do you ever feel like you have so much to tell, and there is no time to tell it? Or, that you don't have the energy to tell it? I am getting ready for a knee replacement surgery on Monday. Monday the 15th of March.

It was supposed to be Tuesday the 10th of March, but it was postponed until April 26th (they called me on Monday, March 9th). That sent me in to a whirlwind day of resetting my emotions. By the next morning, I had finally got my balance again. Then the surgeon's office called and asked if I could come in on the 15th of March.

The reason for the change is that I have sleep apnea, so they want to do the surgery in a foofoo shishi hospital, rather than a smaller, more orthopedic specific hospital. I was very lucky to get moved up to the 15th, but it sure messed with my head.

I've been running around in circles, getting nowhere as I try to prepare myself for surgery. I am not as concerned about the surgery as I am about the kids and the dogs and the horses and how much overtime my sweet husband is going to have to work to pay for the foofoo shishi hospital.

All of the other stuff I want to tell you will have to wait for another day. All of the crazy things that happen here at the Sorensen Home. There is never a boring day. I'm sure that someday there will be, and I'll be patting tears from my eyes, missing all of the noise and mayhem. So I stop, from time to time, just to appreciate the chaos.

a valentine

This Paper Boat

by Ted Kooser

Carefully placed upon the future,it tips from the breeze and skims away,frail thing of words, this valentine,so far to sail. And if you find itcaught in the reeds, its message blurred,the thought that you are holding ita moment is enough for me.

A Winter's Ride

I am not too fond of riding horses in freezing cold weather, but because riding Scamper is the only time that I don't feel broken, it gets me down when I am not able to go riding for a long time. My knee replacement surgery is scheduled for March 9, which means I won't be able to ride the sweetest horse in the whole world for at least a few months. The thought just breaks my heart.

To ease my pain, Rick saddled up the horses Saturday, and we bundled up for a ride. I must admit that it was very cold, but it was so worth it. I don't think I'd ridden Scamper for at least two months (gasp!). It's like magic. The second I climb in the saddle, my agoraphobia disappears, and I don't feel broken anymore.

The good news is that Scamper is the best incentive a person could have to do physical therapy. In fact, I asked the surgeon how long it would take for the knee to heal enough that I would not damage anything that he had done during surgery. He said two weeks, which got me all excited. Then the surgeon laughed, knowing that I won't want to go riding after a knee replacement. However, he doesn't know the bond between me and Scamper. I'll be riding sooner than he thinks.

I feel so blessed to have a husband that sacrifices a lot to provide me with a horse. He goes without a lot to pay for the expenses of keeping horses. He does all the work to take care of them, he gets them ready to ride, and he does it all to ease my pain. I will love Rick forever. How could I help it?