Stop that Teresa! You're doing it again...

Breathe...  (Pause)  Breathe...  (Pause)  Breathe...  (Pause)  Okay...  I'm ready now...  I think??? This is not going to be a short post.  But I feel like just writing in my cyberspace diary today and if you care to come along for the ride...you may.  I would love the company.  But I warn you.  You may need a box of tissues.

I was reflecting upon the years that have come and gone, and found myself thinking about the times my mom was alive; my family was in my life; I was doing extremely well in college; the man of my dreams was in my life; I had clients to attend to everyday; my bills were paid; I had a car that purred like a kitten; there was money in the bank; I looked forward to the holidays and I had friends coming out of my ying yang.  I was becoming more popular than many celebrities. And if you can believe this or not; some folks actually started asking me for my autograph.  They told me that they felt like one day they would say that... "They knew me when..."  I know...  It does sound a little strange and crazy; but nonetheless; it was true.  But that's another story. I'll leave that for another day.

Then one day.  That dreadful day came.  It was August 7, 1994.  A phone call came that changed my life forever.  It was my brother telling me that mom had passed away.  Shortly after...  The man of my dreams decided to get cold feet and walked out...without even a good-bye.  See ya.  Nothing.  Not one little word.

I did manage to walk away with a Bachelors degree.  Graduating Summa Cum Laude.  Receiving the Who's Who of American Colleges and Universities three years running, and many other accolades to numerous to mention.  But some how, all of that seemed empty and meaningless now.  My remaining family members and siblings didn't attend the graduation, because they were upset that I was getting a degree.  I was only one, of two in my family...that completed highschool and the only one in my family who went back to school at the age of 33, to get my degree.  You would think that they would have been proud of me?  Instead...  They were upset. Because they said me going back to school made them look bad.  They now expected me to financially take care of them.  Which I had no objections.  After all...they were my family.

Wow!  Who would have thought???  Most families are proud if someone in their family pushed through the odds and did something with their life.  Not mine...  Even some of my friends rejected me because of it.  They seemed to hate the fact that I was happy and wanted to do something with my life.  Go figure...

Of course it broke my heart when mom died.  Why wouldn't it?  After all...she was my mom!  But it wasn't until she was gone...that I realized she was much more than a mom.  For some strange reason, when she was alive...I believed anything was possible.  I believed I could make something of myself.  I believed I had a future.  I believed that one day I would have my own family and that I was going to marry a man just like Elvis.  (Chuckle...)  I believed in my dreams. I believed I was going to have my own business.  I believed that I would write a best seller.  I believed I would be able to buy my mom a home of her own.  I believed that I could start organizations to help the needy that would far surpass what is being done today.  To me...in my mind and heart...NOTHING was impossible.  The sky was the limit!

Yet...the day mom died.  It seemed that (unknowningly at the time)...so did everything else in my heart.  All the life inside of me...just seemed to slip away.  My mom was the one family member that believed in me.  In fact...she was so proud of the fact that I was attending college, she brought copies of all my grades to show all the doctors and nurses at the hospital.  We found them in her purse when they gave us back her personal belongings, after she had died. It was wild to think that she was showing my scholastic achievements to total strangers.  I think my college years did more for her, than they ever did for me.

A few days prior to her passing.  We spoke.  Like usual.  She would take an hour to say something, when the average person took about 10 minutes to say the same thing.  But for some reason that day.  I didn't mind.  I enjoyed every ounce of every word she spoke that day! I didn't want to stop hearing her voice.  I didn't want to stop hearing her ramble.  There was something in me, that said...let her do it.  It may be a long time before you can talk to her again.

I didn't want to believe what I was fearing in my heart.  I wanted to scream.....NO!!!  You're wrong!!!  She's not going to die!!!  She's not!!!  She's going to live a long healthy life and once I get out of college I will be able to give her all she ever dreamed of!!!  I can still hear those words echo in my heart today.  The funny thing is...  When she passed, I think she gave me her gift of "ramble."  Because up until that day.  My conversations were "short and sweet."  If you can believe that...  LOL

Ironically...the morning she passed.  She was living in Virgina Beach, VA and I was attending college in Tulsa, OK.  I was sitting quietly in my apartment listening to Nat King Cole's "Answer me my love...tell me what you're thinking of..."  It was about 12:30 AM central time.  I remember at that very moment...as I was rocking in my chair...I suddenly stood up and said "Mom???  Is that you???"  It was like she was in the room.  Right there with me.  I later found out...that she had passed away at the very moment I felt her presence.  It was like...she had stopped by to say goodbye.  I will treasure that moment forever!

My mom told me during our last converstation, that she had already bought the ticket (1 year in advance) to attend my graduation.  She told me that it was one event that she wasn't going to miss.  I wanted so badly for that to be a sign that she indeed was still going to be here on this earth for a little while longer and that being at my graduation was definitely going to happen. But deep inside...  I knew she would never attend.

The funny thing...  Before I left college.  I told mom that I saw myself taking 5 years to get through college instead of 4.  She asked me if I had plans to get a double major or something? I told her no.  Little did I know at the time...the reason for the extra year, would be due to her death.  For you see.  I was entering my senior year when she passed.  I was encouraged to take a year off, but knew if I did...I would never return.  So I attended my senior year part time until I finished.  Which basically took two years.  And thus...was the reason I saw myself taking 5 years getting through school.

My grades slipped a bit and instead of maintaining my 4.0 average...I ended up graduating with a 3.86.  I ended up making one "B" per semester, which is why it brought my grade average down some.  I did however, tell myself that for my last semester...for me and for my mom, I had to know that I could still achieve a 4.0 and thankfully I did.  It was my hardest semester...but through the tears of which I cried often during those last two years...I still managed to graduate with high honors.

So there started my life without my mom.  My inner strength was gone.  My motivation to achieve was gone.  My dreams became stillborn.  My confidence quietly slipped away into a bottomless pit...never to stick up it's ugly head again.

After moving from Tulsa, OK...I lived in Nashville, TN for some time.  I started my own graphic design business to which a partner ulimately ruined me.  I filed bankruptcy.  Became homeless. And vividly remembering how could a recent college graduate, who had so much potential...now be sleeping in a tent?  While the winter chill was bitterly cold.  The summer breezes was extremely hot.  While I layed praying every night that the rats wouldn't try to get into the tent and nip at me, as I heard them scurring through the darkness...while I was trying to sleep.

The strange this is...  During that time...  I never once asked for any handouts or even money, like you see so many homeless people doing.  I did odd jobs.  Threw a paper route.  Then finally. I got a job at J.C. Penney working as a drapery specialist during the day, while in the evenings I went home to a cold and/or hot, lonely tent at night.  I could finally afford a cell phone.  So if they needed me, they could get a hold of me without every knowing I had no place to live.  No one ever knew, until years later after I got an apartment.  I finally mentioned it to one co-worker.  She said she was stunned, because I never let on to anyone what I was going through.

I remember lying in the tent...wondering how could all of this have happened?  Did I take the wrong turn in my life?  Should I have done this...instead of that?  All I knew...was when mom was alive...none of this would have been a part of my testimony.  She would have had a plan and we would have worked together to get me through it.  When troubles came...I seemed fearless and could tackle the strongest of demons.  And believe me.  There were many to fight. I've tried maintaining a good attitude, even when it was tuff.  Most of the time I succeeded.  But a few times I failed.  I finally realized though...that I drew a lot of my strength from my mom. Just knowing that she believed in me was all that it took to keep me going.

So...  Now many years have come and gone with a lot of living that has gone on in between. Some of the years have been good and many have been bad.  Ironically...though I had many hard years in my life...none seemed to be as hard, than those times after my mom left me.

For you see...  I now sit in my first home...after many long years of working hard and hoping that one day, I would get a chance to get a piece of the American Dream.  And whalla!  On March 12, 2006, it seemed that...that day had finally arrived.  I got the keys to my brand new home.  It was a modest home.  Not very expensive.  But it was mine.  Or so I thought.  Because two short months later.  After establishing $10 million dollars in pending sales for a company that I had worked several years for...I get their pink slip.  Their left foot of fellowhsip.  The truth is...they actually wanted me to stay on as an independent contractor.  They were no dummies. I was good at what I did.  But my clients were in muliple states and I was going to have to pick up the entire tab now.  Which was impossible for me to do.  So those millions took a slow trip down Drano-ville.  I did manage to recover a few of them.  But the majority was lost.

My savings lasted me about 1.5 years, at which I ended up facing the worse crisis of my life.  I have gone on numerous interviews.  Was given great references from past employers.  Had been hired a couple of times and then they turned around a couple of days later to say they changed their minds.  My last two employers owe me thousands of dollars for which they have managed to beat the system to pay me.  And trust me...I have tried everything.

I have cried more painful tears over this past year...than I could have ever possibly imagined. Shameful experiences such as my gas being turned off for months.  No phone for folks to call me for a job.  A car that will barely get me around and can't be inspected.  So far behind on my mortgage...I shiver when any car remotely starts to slow down at my door.  The torment is madning!

I don't want to be homeless again.  I have two little dogs.  They have been my saving grace. They need their teeth cleaned and haven't had their shots.  I was always a good mommy to them.  But I can't be any more.  Please dear God help me.  Why won't you help me?  I helped so many people when they needed help.  I tried to be thoughtful and kind.  Don't you remember? Will you please give me this one little miracle this Christmas?

What will 2009 hold for me I wonder?  I sit here...at my computer...just grateful that I can still type.  I can still somewhat see, though I need new glasses.  I still live in my home and grateful for every minute, of every day in it.  Waiting and anticipating the day that I can breathe a sigh of relief.  That it's going to be okay.  I hate being sad!  I hate being depressed!  I want to laugh again!  Sing again!

I often wonder why do some people hate it when I am happy???  I used to like my name 'ya know...(Pause)...Teresa.  I always thought it was a cool name.  Until I realized it's meaning.  My name means "Reaper"...  I've reaped a lot of horrible stuff in my lifetime.  When will the good stuff come?

My life has been reduced to living on a computer and fighting just to keep the lights and utilities on.  The one good part to all this...I suppose.  Is that I found some cool people here on Gather, which probably wouldn't have happened...had I not had the time to surf the net.  They've become my family now.  I joyfully anticipate every email, comment, and ping I receive.  I look forward to them everyday.  Even though I may sometimes be disgruntle about it.  I am starting to understand that the trolls in my life have a purpose.  They have managed to take every 10 that I ever receive these days, away.  But I got to thinking???  People won't take something away from you, unless they think it's worth something.  That it's valuable.  They won't waste their time with it.  So the trolls remind me everyday that I still must have something valuable to offer people, or they wouldn't spend so much of their time trying to take it away.  So...now these pesky little creatures have become somewhat of a gift to me; to remind me of my significance.

I'm starting to feel better now.  I needed to get this out of my system.  I've got almost 90 Christmas cards out.  That's the most I've gotten out in years.  Thank God I had all those old stamps...or I wouldn't have been able to accomplish my task.  Yeah...  I will admit.  I hope I get a few in return.  NO!  Let me rephrase that and be honest...  I hope I get a whole lot in return! Because, with every card...it tells me that I'm still here.  My name is still on the roll.  Even if it get's misspelled every now and then.  Mostly by family members.  You would think that they would have learned to spell my name by now?  (Chuckle...)  Go figure...

The mail came yesterday.  The department stores gave me their gift of coupons and junk mail. The mail came today.  More holiday junk mail.  The mail will come tomorrow.  Hmmm...  I wonder what it will bring?  A miracle maybe?  I hope so...