Monthly Archives: June 2016

Newest Published Work

Finally…after a nightmare editorial experience and much research about ebook
publishing, I have released my newest work, “Caysee Rides” today. I decided to publish on Amazon since it has 75% of the ebook market reach at the moment, which means it is FREE FOR THE NEXT FIVE DAYS if you are a Kindle Unlimited member…just in time for the long holiday weekend.  Click here to link.  Happy reading…and thanks for all your support!

CayseeRides_Final_resized

Cover art by Aaron Phelps

 

 

 

 

 


Examination of Death, by an Atheist

Just a few days ago, my siblings and I gathered together at an idyllic place in the mountains and, one by one, scattered the remains of our beloved mother.

Many of my family take solace in the thought that they will see her again someday ‘across the River Jordan’.   Yet as my husband and I discuss heady topics such as parallel universes and quantum entanglement, I am instead, solaced by the thought that my mom is more alive now than she was while bottled up inside a frame of skin and bones.   This is the examination of death, by an atheist.

Energy can be neither created nor destroyed, so sayeth science.

restingplace

Photo credit to E.W.

This is the reality in which we live. It is incontestable, it is there in the math as assuredly as one plus one equals two. So when the essence of a soul, whatever energy is caught up in our being, is no longer caged by the laws of physicality, then we have to conclude that our energy is dispelled and scattered again throughout our universe, to be employed for newer enterprises (nature is brilliant at recycling and repurposing).   There is great comfort in the thought that my mother is not relegated to just here and just there.  She is all around now, freer in a manner that none of us can conceive, able to effect any number of possible outcomes.  She is life, and that more abundantly.

I will miss her, make no mistake.  I have keened for her passing and will do so again in days to come, I am sure. I will never again feel the sweetness of her kisses upon my lips nor hear the admonishing tone of her voice when my wild nature conflicted with her demure soul.  And while in days past, I might have taken comfort in the hope of ‘seeing her again,’ today I am pacified by a more solid idea.   My mother is ever with me, in every breath I take, in each word I write – in all manner of ways that her energy is now part of the universe itself, I am ever a recipient of her freedom.  Though I may be heartbroken; I am content in this examination.

Yours,

Frankie

In Remembrance:  HEA


First Perhaps, Not Best However

You are the first, but you are not our best.  I know this with certainty, there are others with greater integrity and deeper loyalties – it is difficult to miss them among your repute.

You deliver promises from a podium and smile kindly at the masses.  I see a facade, I watch body language, I follow the money. Your words and warmth are alien compared to your deeds and transactions.

You have shattered a ceiling, but you have not fooled me.  I watched you keep the one who betrayed you so you could break that glass.  In doing so you betrayed yourself and each of your sisters, including your own daughter.

You may have seen this coming a long way off, for you have planned, colluded, devised, manipulated, coerced, and twisted yourself into this role. Methinks it looks like Cinderella’s shoe forced upon the foot of one of the ugly stepsisters: contorted, deformed, repulsive.

You will revel in the moment, claim a solid victory, and think the world astounded.  But history will bring justice and reality will reveal:  The moment is artificial.  The victory, merely a shell – like a hollow chocolate bunny.

I cannot concede this milestone, it is marred and scarred with the illness of selfish motives.    It is clouded from the pollution of the process you employed.  It is weighed heavy with the baggage you bring.   It is tainted by your dishonesty and false propositions.

You may be first, but we are not a better nation for it.

 

 

 

 

 

 


Promises

Losing a child is an unfathomable event, but these things I promise you:

You will feel like your body has failed you.  It hasn’t.  And someday it will prove this to you.

You will feel as if the darkness inside has no end, and no matter how bright the sun, there will never be a light in your heart again.  But the darkness will eventually give way to light, time is your friend.

You will feel that you will never be able to manage a genuine smile again.  A day will come, though, when that smile crosses your face and you realize you have survived somehow.

You will feel like no one can understand your pain.  You will be right, but there are those who would at least help carry it for a minute.  There are those who will at least validate your heartbreak.

You will feel robbed, indeed you have been.  Yet, there are gifts that arrive with the pain – deeper understanding, greater appreciation of joy, the ability to live in the moment.

You will be tempted towards bitterness, it can’t be helped.  The human spirit however, is strong and resilient, you will be able to find peace instead.

You will be angry.  It’s okay.  There is nothing fair or right or just about this, anger is justified.

You will die inside from grief, but I promise you will live again one day for happiness.

 

 


#Harambe: My Sorrow and Sense

He was a beautiful animal.  He had a reputable character.  Yet when faced with the probability of him causing harm to a young boy – no matter how the child ended up in the enclosure – Harambe’s life was ended.

It is a shame, I agree.   But his death isn’t sense less.

I say this from the perspective of being bit by an unknown dog just a few days ago.   It and a partner were happily minding their business and I, having never seen them before despite almost daily travel of this particular path, veered to the far side of the path as I approached them to give them plenty of space as I passed.   I took maybe four or five steps after passing them and just thought to myself that we had navigated each other successfully when I was surprised by a pair of jaws latching onto my back upper right thigh.   During my research into dog bite trauma and care, I found that most dog bites occur between known animals and their victims – that is family dogs.

Even those animals that we’ve spent thousands of years domesticating and deem our ‘best friend’ can be unpredictable and dangerous.

There’s the realm of possibility, where anything can happen.  There’s the realm of probability where the odds favor that certain things will and do happen.

There is no way of knowing what would have happened, we can only estimate the probability of what could happen with Harambe and the child.    In this instance the probability that the boy was in danger was infinitely increased due to the age of the child – I’ve helped raised three boys, a four year old man cub is almost as unpredictable as a wild, albeit reputably gentle, gorilla.    The combination of the two was volatile and that is why Harambe lost his life.   Statistically speaking, the zoo personnel used common sense.

I am sorry that Harambe had to die, especially in the way his demise came about.  It wasn’t

harambe

photo courtesy cincinnatizoo.org

graceful, it wasn’t befitting of his life testimony, it wasn’t dignified as he apparently was.  I understand the anger expressed at his untimely death.

However, the probability that we would be having an entirely different conversation surrounding the death or severe injury of the boy is high if any other course of action were taken.   As I can readily attest, even our most domesticated friends are unpredictable at times, let alone a gorilla facing the stress of a stranger in its enclosure, an anxious audience, and a scared child.

Yours,

Frankie