I really don't know what to think of Hillary's last speech. On one hand, I am glad she was forthright in coming out with her deepest feelings like she wanted to curl up in a book and never leave the house. I guess she was that confident she was going to be president. And she looked like hell. Yikes. So you could tell she had done some "Democratic soul searching" which I translate to depression and sadness. But on the other hand...I have never known any other politician to talk like that and most of the time they have their game face on, so it made her appear vulnerable. I guess that is human. I struggle with this in those who are public officials. It is probably because I wasn't allowed to show those things on the job...so neither should anyone else. A bad analogy. However, it also shows to me an emotional state which if she was this distraught over this...would that have resonated to how she handled other things. Just a thought.
And I will relish the day politics is not the top of the list and news goes back to mass disasters and destructive behavior. Oh..just kidding. Relax. I can have some super cynical humor.
SO it became a time to reflect back when I threw a tantrum (not yesterday but a few days back...let's say to 2012) and when I located this post from 2012, I was overcome with sadness. If I could only turn back time...(sing it Cyndi)
I suppose cops are never suppose to show their human side to the public and only contain our emotions. We often do that on the job. Seldom do we slip even in the heinous of crime scenes. Most often I do a good job of creating an outer shell. However, I am a girl. Yes. Tears happen.
Have you ever been on the verge of tears, but they just don't come? I'm there.
A year ago I put my place up for sale. The first realtor did nothing, not even advertise. For 4 months the only thing he did was put it on the MLS and try to sell it to two rich families at a jacked up price. I was so busy, it took 5 months to fire him when I found the time.
I hired a good realtor. Two weeks later, she retired and passed my file off to another realtor friend of hers, me trusting in the referral. For 6 months, my place saw a lot of advertising but no calls and no showings. Not one. I fired that realtor and chose my next.
She found many problems in the listing...false advertising, advertising the wrong acreage (less than I had), the wrong square footage in the house(less than I had), the wrong size of shop (she advertised a lot less than I had...she listed the wrong materials in the kitchen...a lot less quality than I had. Many of these things I got into a pissing match over and the realtor would not change...just told me to be patient. I found out from my new realtor that my place had been listed as, "confidential, no showings." WTF? The old realtor had even advertised there was state land in the middle of my land. WTF? She never picked up the paperwork at the house and was only there once. I had to put the signs in the ground and put them on my property, not the rancher's where she had it. On and on...with the problems. The pictures were blurry on the MLS. Then the day before I fired her, she said, "You need to reduce your price by $150,000." Seriously? Your market analysis was that far off? I was bent.
It's been three weeks with the new one and the house has shown 5 times and we have had several inquiries. The ranchers and fishing guides can't believe it's still on the market with the reduced price.
So that's good news, right?
I can't really get excited because I've been spinning my wheels for a year.
I'm ready to start fresh, pay off my bills, move and begin a new life. Most of all, I'm ready to be a REAL mother. I say that in jest, but it's true. My job gets in the way. If any other woman cop tells you different they are full of shit or a man cop.
Edward Bulwer Lytton, whom I do not know or any shit from shinola that he was famous for...so sue me... once said something profound that has been said often...
To find what you seek in the road of life,
the best proverb of all is that which says:
"Leave no stone unturned."
Well, I did. I walked around the yard and kicked every stone. There literally are none left unturned. I found myself talking out loud and then realized I was talking to God. Then I wondered if he could hear me with all the bazillions of people praying and talking to him at the same time I was. I even got mad. I didn't get mad at God out loud, but I was miffed and blurted out mumbles. I'm sure He still heard me. What is my path? Why can't you take me there down an easier road? Haven't I done enough good to have a break? Why am I your punching bag?
I was being silly but then again venting is supposed to be healthy, right?
Although my world is in turbulence right now, I found myself still going forward, thinking forward, always dreaming. I feel heavy, tho, because two years have continued to have one disaster after another. They still keep coming. And I'm not kidding. They are literally great disasters, however, I still see the little rays of sunshine and hope. I have positive moments and a wonderful family and friend support structure that continue to hold me up.
Sometimes I feel like I'm hanging on a thread...just to lose everything financially, only to find one more month I can barely pay the mortgage somehow, someway.Each day is harder to scrap up the funds, even on my small budget. I suppose if my disasters didn't happen to be those that were wallet eating kind or heart breaking kind, things would be different.
This home was my sanctuary and now feels like a prison. Maybe that is what is meant to be. Then I think that statement is preposterous.
I look around and see all the amazing wildlife. I mean how often to you get to sit on your deck and watch a bald eagle swoop into the river and grab a fish? Birds singing? Meadowlarks? Grackles? Bunnies? Or tundra swans during mating season? Egrets? Blue Herons? Mountain lions? Beaver? Otter? Weasels? Mink? Raccoons? Geese, ducks, yes...pelican. Blah, blah, the list goes on. How about the 400 elk that migrate during November to cross the river? Yes, let's not forget my friends the snakes. I'm so accustomed to them, they only scare me right before I chop their heads off with a shovel.
I think maybe it's become too financially great and I am holding out that it will sell and I can relieve my duty and my debts. I was so adamant in keeping it, was I so dumb to not notice it would become my ball and chain? My purgatory? [I'm not even Catholic, but I use the word lightly] Perhaps it's the anxious feelings I have to move on. I'm ready.
Then it started again. The noise.
Why do things and people come into our lives? Sometimes it hits us on the head like a hammer, sometimes it is slight, sometimes it is unknown.
I responded to a call today and the name, faces, and circumstances all seemed familiar. While Squirrel was off talking to some folks, I started poking around the back of the house. I peeked inside a car window and saw a name on a piece of paper.
Then I called my buddy, The Tuminator. We worked as detectives for over 7 years together. Many of our cases were action and high profile. We had a blast. He and his wife, Marla Dearest, still remain dear friends 20 some years after first meeting on the job at the police department.
ME: Hey, remember that case?
TUMINATOR: [laughing] Which one?
ME: That ONE?
DUH. We only did 100s.
I gave him the information and he refreshed my memory of a homicide of a baby where the boyfriend threw the infant and the infant died. The girlfriend-mother of the child tried to cover it up. It was weeks of work. We were working long hours, interrogating the world and finally got a confession. The boyfriend is still in jail and will remain there for life...or at least 15 years. Apparently, when you kill an infant it's not as important as killing an adult and you get less time. Yeah. Makes no sense.
Here I was today face to face with the surviving older boy of that homicide victim and two new siblings. They had been locked out of the house by their mother and left alone. Like...all day. By the time we got there it was 2:00 pm and 92 degrees. Very small children. One of them 4, was alone and crying in the street for quite some time before a neighbor rounded them up and called police.
The neighbors and trailer park management came together to tell the police their story of how these children are left like this and often just wander around unattended while mom drives off for hours and almost all day. They knew they should have called but they had been taking care of the kiddos because they felt sorry for the kids. But...no more. They called. These were outstandingly nice and well behaved children.
The kids were distrusting of the police but made Squirrel and I laugh because they said they liked the "skinny" cops, not the fat cop. We knew they were making reference to another officer on another shift who worked the "ghetto ghetto" who had a gruff reputation.
We took the kids away. The mother never showed up even after 5 hours. She didn't call or answer her calls or messages. At about 6:00 pm, she finally called the cops. We asked her where she had been, knowing full well the answer.
Apparently she calls her drug dealer "Walmart."
What does the call have to do with my personal stress? Absolutely nothing, but it just is a piece of the noise inside my head and a show of the outer shell lifted off the cop. Someone put it back on!
Being stressed out and sorta normal is hard. Some might even think I'm crazy or having a meltdown. I like to think of it as the point where God gives you too much to handle and things are going to turn around positive soon. I think it's much easier to have multiple personalities...at least you could give them all a job.