Bridges

 I have crossed many bridges in my life both literally and figuratively. Today I am going to write about actual bridges I have traveled across and the memories that they invoke.  Five days a week as I travel to and from work I cross Lake Belton on a sizable four lane bridge. This bridge was completed the year my father passed away which was 2006. It was built to replace a bridge that was built to be above the spillway height of the dam downstream and the bridge it replaced was built when I was 13 when the dam was altered and the lake level raised up above the existing bridge's height. The original bridge was built only to cross a river, not a lake.  So in my lifetime I have traveled across three different bridges at that location. When I lived in Austin and we traveled to my grandparents house in Levita ( about 15 miles from Gatesville) we would cross the Leon River four times. The first in Belton, next was on hwy. 36 past Temple, then we crossed it as we came into Gatesville then again just before we turned off for Levita just past downtown Gatesville. Each crossing put us just a bit closer to my grandparents. I often think back to those days as I cross the bridge each day. On the day that the new bridge was completely opened to traffic I was taking my father to the Doctor in Temple. On our way there it hadn't opened up both directions yet, but on the return it was. It is not nearly as scary to drive as the old narrow one was. A year later brought record rainfall and flooding. The water made it up to the bridge, but never flowed over it. In 2022 -2023 we had record drought and by Autumn of 2023 there wasn't any water flowing at all under the bridge. This Spring though has brought flooding rains once again and the river is back at flood stage. How is it that so much of the timeline of my life is linked to that bridge and the water beneath it?

In the area around Levita in that part of Coryell County, there used to be quite a few of the old iron bridges crossing the creeks. They were one lane wide with wooden planks laid down the width of car chassis. The photo below shows one in Gatesville that crosses the Leon River. This was taken on Easter Sunday 20212, with Abate, Fantu and Caleb. There is one of these bridges by the Ater Cemetery where several generations of my family are buried. I will often walk down to it when I visit Ater. 

My other Grandparents lived in Dallas. When driving there we had to cross the Trinity River just as you approached downtown Dallas. It was much narrower then and not nearly as congested. But I knew that we were nearly to their house once we crossed that bridge. They lived just off Lower Greenville Ave, in a small home that was probably originally a carriage house. It was small with a garage and living room on the ground floor and upstairs was a bedroom, bathroom and eat-in kitchen. My grandparents rarely used the living room and instead had two recliners and their TV in the bedroom. It was cozy when we all came to stay. I usually slept on a cot in the kitchen. My grandparents had tried letting me sleep in their bedroom, but I talked in my sleep and kept my grandmother awake. She was a light sleeper.

I try to remember other memorable bridges I have crossed in my travels. The first time crossing the Mississippi river, the IH 10 Atchafalaya Basin bridge that is 18 miles long. In New York it is a must to see the Brooklyn Bridge and in San Francisco the Golden Gate Bridge and in London The Tower Bridge... I can remember seeing them, but not sure if I crossed them. In my years living in Ireland I crossed many bridges. I often crossed the O'Connell St Bridge that spanned the Liffey River, or the Ha'Penny foot bridge just upstream. I loved driving the narrow country lanes in Ireland and crossed many centuries old stone bridges that were barely wide enough for one car. 

When I am hiking I love crossing mountain streams on a wooden foot bridge. I always have to stop and just take in the sounds , smells and sight. sometimes I wish I could just stop there and stay. 

This is me in Grand Teton National Park in 2021.

Do you have a favorite bridge or one that holds great memories?

💓💔💕 A Life of Love

 Love. It and grief are probably the two most influential emotions that impact the direction of our life. The intensities of love are as varied as the people in our life. From our first love as a child for their parent to the family that is by our side when we pass from this world, it is often the driving force in the decisions that we make. 

I was a fortunate child to have two loving parents that I always loved. They weren't very physically affectionate parents, but I always knew that I was loved. In their later years and especially after my son died we did hug and say I love you frequently, enough so that I know that the last words my parents heard me speak to them was that I loved them. I can say the same about my son as we never hung up from a phone conversation without saying I love you. I frequently tell my kids I love them and sometimes just randomly text it to them. 

Outside of the love of our family there is the love of our friends. It might not be as impactful, but it is a constant and loyal love. Some friends come and go, others remain for a lifetime. The importance of these friendships cannot be dismissed easily as they are the ones that shape our childhood relationships. Good friends encourage us, and comfort us. They are the ones we share our secrets, our heartbreaks and our joys. These are the true friends, the ones that bring out the best in us. I was lucky that the friends I had in my life (and still do) were always a positive influence. I have seen too many others brought down by their so-called friends. Those that bring trouble, mischief, and destruction that causes heartbreak not just to them, but to their families. I have always kept my own circle of friends small. I look for positivity and joy in a friendship. I want friends that are honest. I do not have time for drama, competitiveness or jealousy. I just like friends that care about my well being as much as I care about theirs. 

Children. A mother's love. There is nothing comparable to it. It is a love that brings joyous sacrifices, nurturing, caring, joy and heartache. The birth of my first child brought such a powerful overwhelming love at the moment of her birth I couldn't help but cry ( something I rarely do). I was a bit more prepared with the birth of my next two, but no less in love. The adoption of my two youngest was just as powerful. Falling in love with pictures, videos and letters as they were half a world away. The moment we met them was as powerful as if I'd given birth. I love them no less than my older three. This is the one time I will say that I was truly blessed, blessed to be a mom to five amazing individuals. They are all very different and amazing in their own way. They are my life. The icing on the cake is my grandson. To see a new generation grow. I look forward to more grandkids and showering them with the same love I do for Caleb.

Crushes! Do you remember your first crush? Mine was Chip Hentrich, the son of my third grade teacher. We were good friends, and enjoyed spending time together. He even tried to kiss me on the playground once. He eventually moved off but I never forgot him. His mother was also my favorite teacher ever. There were many other crushes over the years,  often it was just a one-way crush. My first puppy-love boyfriend was Bobby Rabideau. I was in the eighth grade. Outside of school it was hours on the phone and occasionally getting together at the mall on the weekends. I broke up with him when I headed off to High School as we would not be attending the same school. I felt bad about it, but I felt that it would be for the best. It wouldn't be until I was in the eleventh grade that I would have my first serious boyfriend. We dated for about five months. I had to break it off with him though as he was way too serious and was talking marriage. I was only 17! I was not ready for marriage and certainly not to him. There would be more boyfriends over the years. Heartbreak sometimes for myself, sometimes for them. It is all a part of growing up. It is through these relationships we grow. We learn what is important in a partner. It is because of that early journey into the "love relationship" we can recognize the right person when we meet them. 

Spring 1980, I had just started a job at Motorola in Austin. I was working in the semiconductor manufacturing clean room. We wore clean-room suits that covered us from head to toe and were fairly baggy. Not an ideal wardrobe choice to catch the eye of the opposite sex. It was only when an after hours gathering was planned that we could shed our baggy suits and actually see our co-workers. I did not plan on attending though. The meet-up was at a club across town and since I was new on the job, I just was a bit unsure. A friend convinced me to stop by as she had something she needed to give me (her ink pen leaked on my car seat and she had a spot remover for me to try). So I agreed to stop by for a few minutes. Once there I got talked into a game of pool and met some of my co-workers. One in particular caught my eye and the conversation just flowed with him. The evening flew by and before I knew it, it was nearly midnight. We exchanged phone numbers and made plans to meet again. His name was Steve Hall, I fell head over heels in love by the end of the first date. By the end of the second I knew I would marry this man. Luckily he felt the same. We got engaged a month later and married in the Autumn of that year. I can't say that our love was deeply passionate, but he was my best friend, the one I leaned on. The father of my kids and a good husband and provider. I knew I wanted to live my life with him always. Our always was fifteen years. I'll write at a later date about the failures... this post is about love. 

Summer 1995, My first marriage was over. I was at a loss of what I wanted and needed to do. I was not prepared to live on my own. I had to get myself together so I headed off to a place I found healing and inspiring - Ireland. I planned on staying for three months. I had settled into a new apartment in Dublin. I was spending my days sightseeing around the city and enjoying the pace of life. I had made arrangements for my son Trevor to come for three weeks starting in London before coming to Dublin. It was while in London that I met a cute Irishman at a pub just up the street from my B & B. He sat down next to me and a conversation started and went well into the night. We exchanged phone numbers ( I accidently wrote mine down wrong) and agreed to keep in touch. Once I returned to Dublin I discovered I had accidently made off with his sunglasses. It took a few days to get in touch with him , but I did and we arranged to meet when I returned to London to see Trevor off on his flight back to Texas. We did meet up a few weeks later and spent a few days traveling around the South of England. We spent the following months flying back and forth between Dublin and London. I extended my stay to six months as I wasn't ready to walk away from this relationship. I was falling in love again. I knew I was in trouble when one evening while sitting across from each other in a very noisy pub, I looked into his eyes and for a brief moment I was looking into the eyes of him as an old man. I knew then that I would grow old with him. At the end of my six month Visa he knew it was time for him to move back to Ireland and wanted me to stay. I had to return to Texas to wrap things up, so he came with me. A month later we were back in Dublin looking for a place together. We found a charming large flat in an old Edwardian townhome in Dun Laoghaire ( a Dublin suburb). Two months later he asked me to marry him and on July 5th, 1996 we wed. We both always said we felt like soul mates. Our marriage was amazing until it suddenly wasn't. We divorced in 2019. I was crushed. I knew I had to dig deep within myself to decide what my life would look like moving forward. 

So now it is 2024, I am single. My children are the loves in my life. I am enjoying the freedom of living alone. I enjoy the confidence I have in myself. I love not having doubts about what another person is thinking about me. I have been damaged by the heartbreak. I do not want to travel down that road again. Do I miss being in love? Do I miss having a partner to share my day with? Do I miss the companionship, the touch, the love? Yes I do. But I don't miss the doubts, the struggles, the sacrifices. I do like that I can freely live my own life, my choices, my decisions, and my adventures. Oh and I do have my two little runt-mutts to love on and keep me company. 💗🐶

Learning to Love Adventure

 This week has been a good week. I wake up way too early and can't get back to sleep so by 5:30 a.m. I go ahead and get up so I don't have to rush my morning workout. It paid off  as I finally hit my goal of 600 steps on the stair-stepper. I also added a few new positions to my yoga routine. It really is an amazing feeling to hit a fitness goal. I am happy! I am really joyfully happy. 

Looking back over my life I know happiness has far out-weighed sadness. So why is it that the sadness and trauma can dominate our memories? I was thinking back a few days ago about where my love for the great outdoors started. I know it was summer vacations with my family as a child. But the first thing that would pop into my head about those trips wasn't probably the most fun part of them. 

Colorado was one of my parents favorite destinations. I remember on I think it was our first trip there when I was I believe three and a half. We had rented a cabin on a mountainside near Decker. The first thing my siblings and I did was go running up the hillside, I slipped and rolled back down frightening my Mother,  she was sure I'd be seriously injured. Luckily though it was just a few scrapes and bruises and I was back on the hillside having fun in no time. When I was a pre-teen we spent a few days in Red River New Mexico hiking. We were then heading up to Decker Co. to relax and do some fishing. The hiking had been so much fun. We along with most people on the trail stopped along the way and took a drink of water from the mountain stream. Well that probably was not the wisest decision as the next day when we were driving to Decker I came down with a horrible stomach bug. Nothing quite like getting sick in the car all over the back seat while on a road trip. It was so bad my parents had to locate a clinic  so I could see a doctor.  We did make it to the cabin a few hours later. I spent the days there recovering,  wrapped in a blanket sitting on the porch watching my Dad fish. There were many other vacations that were fun without injuries or illness. A trip to Carlsbad Caverns became a favorite place of mine to which I have returned several more times with my own family. My first trip though I did not want to leave as the cool air was the first relief I had in weeks from a burn I received a few weeks prior. My brother had some friends over for a backyard campout. They had a fire going and were roasting marshmallows. His friend Danny's marshmallows were ablaze so he was waving his stick back and forth trying to get the fire out. The marshmallows while still on fire went flying off the stick and landed on my arm. You don't know pain until you have melted burning marshmallows stuck to you. So a burned arm and summer heat were not a good combination. So when I entered that cave and it was in the low 60's... yeah I didn't want to leave. 

Summer vacations - always a road trip. They were an annual event growing up. Some years it was a trip to the coast. The mountains were always popular. The summer we lived in New Jersey it was a road trip back to Texas. The following Summer we took a road trip when we moved back. We went to Niagara Falls, Across Canada, then down through Chicago and the Mid-west. Another year we traveled to Durango Colorado and rode the historical Silverton - Durango train. It was not without it's near disasters. There are two trains that run daily in the summer. We were on the second train. It seems that when the first train went through a forested area it triggered a fire. A fire burning very close to the tracks and had spread into the forested area around... that we were now traveling through. I (as you can imagine) was scared of fire. It was a very tense bit of the journey. The train had to pass slowly  as some of the rail ties had burned. We soon were past and on the move again. The scenery was beautiful as we traveled along a river gorge. A little ways further the engineer realized that due to the delays the engine was running low on water (steam engine). We had passed a tank a few miles back so he had to stop and reverse back to it. Once he was refilled we were on our way and eventually made it to Silverton albeit a few hours late. This had also delayed the first train from departing Silverton and cut into the time that we had to spend in this cute western town. I did return to Durango as an adult with Trevor. This was a stop on a road trip that just him and I went on one year. We did ride the train and did not have any mishaps. Maybe at a later date I will share the story of the trip I took with him.

I was lucky being the youngest child so in my high school years I got to travel alone with my parents. Road trips were often about the destination even though we went by some places that really warranted further exploration. On a trip to California It was straight across Interstate 10 and into the greater L.A. area until we reached my Uncle's house. While in that area we did get to see and do a lot of fun things including a trip to Disneyland. We then went up to San Jose for a few days and spent part of a day in San Francisco. The drive home took us past Yosemite (did not stop). We crossed the Hoover Dam (did not stop). We did stop for gas in Vegas, but did not even detour for a drive down the Strip. The best though was the Grand Canyon. Oh we stopped, got out of the car, walked to the edge and saw the canyon for about ten minutes. We then returned to the car and headed back home to Texas.  I can at least say I've been there! 

These trips and many of the others I took as a child, a teen and an adult have created some of my best memories. The time I was able to spend with my own kids, creating memories and adventures with them are priceless. It has also led them to share the same love of travel and adventure that I do. I hope that in the years to come I can continue to create memories with them and create my own. It is the one thing that inspires me to become a better, healthier, person. 

Carlsbad Caverns taken on a return trip in 2011

The Door

 

Death. It defines moments in our lives. From the first passing of someone dear until we face our own, death changes us. The deaths of those around us will shape how we face our own demise.  

Today has been two years since my ex-husband Alan died unexpectedly. I was still his emergency contact even though we had been divorced for over two years. This sadly placed me in the position of having to make those heartbreaking phone calls to our children and to his Mother back in Ireland. For me this was the hardest part about his death. I once had received that same call from my Father, to let me know that my son had been killed in an accident. Just a few words changed the course of my life. I knew the weight of what I would say would do the same for his family. His death saddened me. It was truly the end of my second life. I did have to come to the realization that with his death I would not get the apology and closure I had hoped to get from him. I would have to forgive him without that. It took awhile. I did get there, the bitterness that I held is replaced by memories and sadness. I feel sadness for him that he lived his life in such a self-destructive way. I am working on remembering the good times and the love we shared, I do this for our kids. They deserve the good memories. 

Death follows us throughout our lives. If we are fortunate to live a long life we will suffer the loss of many people dear to us. My first experience with death was while I was still a preschooler. It wasn't anyone close to me but a younger girl at church. I don't recall her name. I do remember her though. She was a pretty little girl. She lived with her mother and grandparents. She always wore the prettiest dresses and fluffy petticoats to church. Her mother and grandparents just doted on her. I was envious of her. She was riding in a car with her Mother when the accident occurred.   This was the early 1960's, there was no such thing as child safety seats, and only the newer cars had seatbelts. Even minor accidents were often deadly for children. Her Mother was uninjured but she was thrown through the windshield and died instantly. My Mother took me with her to the funeral, This was the first one I remember attending. I can still picture her laying in the casket, beautiful dress, fluffy petticoat. Her face though bore the marks of her injury. I felt ashamed that I had once been so envious of her. It changed me. It still to this day effects me when I start to feel envy towards another person. 

The first loss of a family member was that of my Grandfather McCorkle (mentioned in an earlier post). I was nine when he died after a month long battle with pneumonia. The call came as we were finishing up breakfast and heading back to school for the first day after the Christmas break. It wasn't an unexpected death, but still was surprising when he passed. 

I have now lived so many years that I have seen the passing of  all of my grandparents, my own parents, and their siblings. I have lost a brother, his young son, a niece, my own son, and several cousins. I also have sadly felt the loss of friends, acquaintances, ex-boyfriends, an ex-husband and many beloved pets. Some of those deaths I still carry with me. There is still a sadness can threaten to pull me under, the joyful memories though lift me back up. I reach out to feel their energy and know that they are with me. 

As I get older  I know that death will become a more frequent visitor, mine will be the final one. How do I prepare for and face the inevitable? When I was younger, thoughts of my own death were frightening. Facing the unknown, or facing Heaven or Hell as I struggled with the Christian teachings of my youth. When my son died my fears were removed. I felt a different energy around him and myself. Death then became just a doorway to another plane of existence. It wasn't to be feared. I can look back on my life now and know I have lived a life that was fulfilling. I have loved and been loved. I have had a pretty amazing life. I hope to live for many more years and have many more adventures. But if I were to die tomorrow I will not be sad. I will not be frightened. I do not want anyone to be sad. Celebrate the life I lived. Celebrate the joyful moments. Celebrate that I have only passed through a door. 

Choosing my Religion

 Religion. It is probably one of the most impactful ways our parents influence our lives and the paths we choose. For so many the religious path they take is the same as the one their parents chose for them. I did not. In my first life with Steve religion did not play a defining role. We had both stepped away from the  religion we were raised in. I did though want to expose our children to a church so that as they grew older they could decide if that was a path they wanted to continue on or not. There was a lovely small Lutheran church nearby that we joined ( the kids and I) and attended for several years. I enjoyed the community of it and the laid back pace. The area began to grow rapidly as did the church and it lost it's appeal to me as so many new members came in and the vibe changed. We soon stepped away and did not search for another church. Just before we divorced Steve decided to convert to Catholicism. But it was something he wished to do on his own and not include myself or his children. I found it odd though as he converted to a church that did not accept divorce, yet he was looking to divorce me during this time. 

When I married Alan, the Catholic church was part of the package. While we never attended church services regularly, he did have strong ties and faith in the Irish Catholic Church. We only became active after attending a service when a new priest had taken over at Our Lady in Gatesville. We were just starting the adoption process and knew that Abate and Fantu had spent quite a few years in a Catholic orphanage and we felt the church would play an important role in their lives. Father Robert Kojah was the new priest and we quickly became good friends. His role in our lives was one that positively impacted our lives, but it was brief. His ideas were modern. His sermons personal. His friendship was a blessing. He was meant for bigger things within his order and all too soon was transferred first to Houston then back to Nigeria. While we are still friends, we only speak via messenger less than once a year. 

I have always questioned religion and the reality of God. Those questions and the lack of answers have shaped my journey. In the past year in my search for living a mindful life and seeking meditation and a way to live in the present I started reading some of the writings of the late Zen Buddhist Monk Thich Nhat Han. It has brought me to a peaceful place. I am more focused and living more in the present. I am calmer. I meditate often. I am in such a better place. It has been a long journey to get here. One that at times was traumatic. How did those events shape my journey?

As a child I loved going to Sunday School. The church service afterwards was boring, but I loved the hymns. The time spent in Sunday School when I was a preschooler was about the only time I got to interact with children my own age. After I started school things began to change. We moved to New Jersey just as I started the First grade. The only Baptist Church was in Trenton which was half an hour away from where we lived. The kids were all strangers, and went to different schools. I don't think I felt like I truly belonged. After we moved back to Texas (Austin) we bounced around through several churches over the next few years. The only one I really liked wasn't a Baptist Church. It really wasn't much different but it was small and near our neighborhood so I had friends also attending it. Suddenly though my Dad changed churches to one across town. It was in the "wealthy" part of Austin. I was terrified there. It was what I would call a "Fire and Brimstone" teaching the "fear of God" kind of church. I began having nightmares which then led to insomnia. I was so frightened that the world was going to end and I would end up in hell. I lost weight, I began to withdraw. I did not have one friend in that church. My siblings hated it there too. But we kept our mouths shut and did not speak up to my Dad about it. I really began to question "organized" religion as I saw the greed and hypocrisy in this place. Why was it fear that they preached? It wasn't until I was an adult that I realized that at an evening service just for kids at the conclusion of Vacation Bible School,  the pastor was using brainwashing techniques to try to "save" us. I left more traumatized and feared God more than ever. 

To this day I feel anger when someone talks about putting the "Fear of God" in their children. I would not take my own kids to a church that taught that. Teach God's love if you want your children to love and accept him. A child will run from what they fear. and quite honestly I have been running from him since. I am sick of the hypocrisy that I see in  many so-called Christians. The holier-than-thou attitude angers me. It was this and more that drove me away from organized religion and the church.

Buddhism has brought me peace. I have found a way through his teachings to live a more spiritual life. It is something I feel that everyone should study ( Christians, Muslims, Jewish, etc.) and bring the teachings of the Buddha into their daily lives. The world would be a much better place. Religion though is very personal. I wish that we could all respect each others choices. I wish that more Christians were like my Grandmother Barron. She was a deeply spiritual person. She read her bible every morning as she sipped her coffee. She lived a very peaceful and faithful life. It was quiet. It was private her relationship with her God. I always envied her unquestioning acceptance and that she didn't feel the need to tell and preach about her faith. She didn't look down on others of different beliefs. I know I was too damaged though by the excesses in the Church to ever return. The innocence of childhood faith was shattered for me. I am just grateful that I have now found a path in this life that brings me joy and comfort. I am glad I had the freedom to choose. 

My Time Part 2

 What has made me happy in the past and brought me fulfillment? Where am I the most happy. Where do I find the peace that I seek? What will make me a better person? What can I do to inspire others?  What drives the decision I make to change how I want to live. I have to search within myself to find those answers. I thought back to some of my favorites destinations that I have been. Forests, mountains, hiking seemed to be the most common theme. I knew I felt alive and filled with a serene energy when in those places. I love hiking in a forest. I love the mountain vistas both looking up at them and looking down from the top. I find comfort and a peacefulness when I am in nature. I also have loved volunteering. I especially enjoyed helping with the children at Kidane Mehret orphanage in Ethiopia. I knew that volunteering in some capacity overseas would be very fulfilling and a great way to fill my days once I retire. There are so many opportunities out there and so many destinations. There was one though that immediately grabbed hold of me and said "this is what you should do, go here". 

Nepal, the Himalayas, eight of the Worlds highest mountains are in Nepal. The area is stunningly beautiful. Filled with a unique culture and many opportunities for volunteering and adventure. One slight problem though. I would be 67 before I would retire and have the opportunity to travel there. It would be three years. I would need every day of those three years though to get into the physical and mental condition to take on the challenges that I would face. I was inspired. I became determined. I want to prove to myself that it is not too late to chase what seems a near impossible dream. I want to inspire my children and grandchildren. Not just sit and grow old.

The importance of getting fit, staying active and pursuing an adventurous life is that I do not want to age like my Mother did. She spent twenty years of her life sitting in her recliner watching the Food Network. She lived most of her adult life in poor health. Much of it caused by doctors over-medicating her for one of her many ailments. Her health issues started not long after I was born. My earliest memories were of being sent off to neighbors or relatives while she was in the hospital. It makes me sad to look back on it, but to be honest I usually had a great time when I was away. I remember playing at a neighbors farm, then falling asleep watching TV that evening I was so tired. I remember waking up as she carried me to bed. Something my own Mother was never able to do. It felt safe. One of my fondest memories though was that my Grandmother (McCorkle) came to stay at our home to help with my older siblings that were all in school and I went back home with my Grandfather. My Aunt June and my baby cousin Todd were also staying with my grandfather. She was working at a nearby school. Her husband was just finishing up his deployment in Germany. She had returned a few months before he was due back. I had so much fun those few weeks helping my Grandfather take care of my cousin. He was the first baby I had an opportunity to spend time with. I was in love with him and he would always hold a special place in my heart. I also love the memories of the time spent with my Grandfather. He was such a quiet gentle man. 

When I started school I became the responsibility of my siblings when Mom was in the hospital. I remember when we lived in New Jersey my Mom was hospitalized for several weeks. The hospital had a "No Children Allowed" on patient floors policy. My Dad snuck me up the back staircase so I could visit her and see that she as recovering. I don't know what she had wrong, or if she had surgery. It was just one of many hospitalizations. I think I was probably around 7 years old then. 

My Mom's ill health continued. The afflictions were varied and I know that some in her later years including the kidney failure that led to her death was caused by the Doctors mismanaging her medications. 

My experience with helping her and my Dad in their final years have led me to distrust Doctors and question everything they say and want to do. I have so many drug allergies and bad reactions to most medications that I just rarely see the point in going to a doctor anymore. This has led me to improve my lifestyle. Diet and exercise is the best thing I can do to stay healthy and active. It is also a requirement to get to the level of fitness I feel I must be at to take on the adventures of which I dream. 

I started working out almost daily a year ago this month. I do yoga every morning and then most mornings I hop on a stair-stepper for a bit. When the weather permits on the weekends, I go hiking. When I get a vacation, I go hiking. When I am at work I am hopping on the internet and researching the next place I want to go hiking. I am in the best condition I have been in since I turned 40 (25 years ago). I feel amazing. I have energy. I am eating healthy. No processed foods and mostly plant-based foods. I love what I eat. It is great only having to cook for myself. Will I be ready for Nepal in 2 years... I hope so. But I know that nothing is guaranteed. I just know that this is my time to live my best life.  

 My Grandfather - Earl McCorkle (my Mom's Dad) , my cousin Todd Garner (the baby) and myself. Taken in the Kitchen of my Grandparents home in Levita Tx.

My Time - Part one

 This, my third life started nearly five years ago when I separated from my second husband. It has taken me most of the past five years to discover myself and get my self on a path that brings me happiness and fulfills me. It has only been in the past year that I truly stepped out of the shadow of my past and decided on the direction I wanted my life to go. It has been with this new passion that I sometimes get hit with a sudden sense that I am living someone else's life. I feel like a stranger in my own body. This life is so different than the one I had thought I would live. How did I get here? I was married to Alan for 23 years, and for most of those years I always knew we would grow old together. It was the only life I imagined. It was traumatic to discover that it had become a lie. The dream of growing old with him became a nightmare. The heartbreak was almost unbearable. Then one day a switch flipped. I had enough of the lies and the pain. I found my strength and knew it was time to move on. I decided to get myself out there and start dating. I met a nice man and we hit it off really well. We started seeing each other regularly. Our relationship became a habit as the Co-vid lockdowns started about six months after we met.  We did some traveling together and I discovered new things about myself that I. I learned a lot and discovered new interests and passions. He opened up a bit of the world to me that allowed me to expand my horizons. I became stuck though. I knew the relationship had run it's course months before it ended. I wasn't sure how to move on, how to get out. Luckily for me he was feeling the same and after some losses in his life he made the move to end our relationship. I have to say I was relieved. This was the push I needed to start to live my own life. To decide what I wanted to do with the years I have remaining. Two failed marriages. Several failed relationships. Putting some of  my dreams and passions aside for my partner. I was done with that. Where do I begin though. What do I want?  

Then one day it just was there. What has made me happy in the past and brought me fulfillment? Where  am I most happy and find the peace that I seek? What will make me a better person? What can I do to inspire others? 

This has to be my time to live for me. 

Becoming

 This is my third life. No I have not been reincarnated for the third time. I just have had events in my life that drastically changed how I lived, where I lived and with who I lived. Some may think this is my fourth life, but I do not include my childhood and teen years as they are so influenced by family and school. It was those years that shaped the person I became and that I have carried with me through all three of my adult lives.

As I write this blog I will share much of my life story. I will share how experiences have shaped the person I am now. I am not sure why I am driven to write this, but I think it will be something for my children and grandchildren. But maybe, someone else will read this and be touched by my story or inspired.

I was born the youngest of four children. I was the unplanned surprise and the third girl. I was born on my Father's birthday and he always said though that I was his favorite gift. I loved that I was the youngest as my siblings had already broken in and in some cases broken down my parents. My brother was the eldest and was seven years older, then a sister that was five years older and the last was close to three years older. My brother was very disappointed that I was a girl so he was never really close to me when we were children. My eldest sister always looked out for me, but did not play with me. My other sister was mean to me and fought with me.  I took her place as the youngest and I guess she wasn't too happy about that. Much of my childhood... well my life, was defined by my Mother's poor health. She was always in and out of hospitals for one ailment or another and had a case of prescription drugs always close at hand. I have quite a few memories of being sent to stay with neighbors or Grandparents during my early years. 

We lived in small towns until I was eight. It was then that we moved to Austin, which at the time was a small city of less than 400,000. It was quite the change but what a great city to grow up in. Prior to Austin we lived in a small town in North Texas until I was six, and then we lived in New Jersey for two years. I loved it there. It was a picture postcard perfectly quaint village. It was the first time I had friends my age living next door or just around the corner. So many great memories. 

My childhood was mostly happy. My teen years were so much fun, but I was in a rush to grow up and my parents were anxious for me to do so as they were ready to be empty nesters. 

So why am I living my third life? 

Life # 1 - Married at 21, three kids (2 girls and a boy) by 25, divorced at 35. 

Life #2 - Moved to Ireland ( I thought for three months but turned into eight years) Married at 36, Son died tragically when I was 42. Moved back to Texas at 43. Adopted two pre-teens (brother/sister)when I was 50, Divorced at 60. 

Life #3 - Realized I love being single. Started pursuing my own goals. Found inner peace and a joy of life. Currently looking forward to retirement in 2026.  I am becoming me.

So this is where I start. 

                                            Birthday photo of my dad and myself.