During a conversation with my sister (in-law), she asked me an unexpected question. I had no time to think or prepare an answer. She asked, “What is your passion?” Without hesitating, my immediate response was, “Writing.” It was at that time that I felt an overwhelming warmth of peace and a sense of comfort exude my being. She looked at me and said, “You like to write?” Preparing to respond, I said,  “Yes. I love to write poetry. I love to share my experiences of life through my writing.  I want to use it as a platform to help others. My dream is to write a book of my life’s adventures.” With a smile, her response was, “Pursue it!”

It was at this time I realized the direction of my footsteps, my life’s path. I have been writing for four and a half decades. I always thought it was only a hobby, a pastime. My sister was the reason I decided to start my blog. First and foremost, my personal hope and plan to start writing in blog form was to be a mentor and an example of how the storm of daily living can affect ones life. Whatever the type of storm, we need to respond in a positive manner. A second thought, without invitation, rushed into my mind.  Quite possibly, just maybe a writer or an author will see and read my material, like it, and offer me a job or a book deal. At this time I quickly put my ego on lock down.  I’ve come to realize that Mr. Ego was defeating my honest intention for this blog.
There is absolutely no amount of notoriety or dollar bill value in this entire universe that supersedes the worth or the importance of a life lesson.




I was ugly and abusive,
Self relevant and intrusive;
My energy extemely depleted,
My life constantly feels defeated.
I am who I am mind, body , and spirit;
All I want is for you to hear it!
I am soft spoken, but a little rough around the edges,
Although I am ghetto, my husband alleges;
My life has been anything but easy,
Now I’m walking it breezy;
My mind in glorious renovation,
The feeling in my heart a peaceful sensation.



I spent five hours in the local emergency room. The attending physician ordered a single dose of Narcan to be given via my intravenous fluid. In no time, I was back to my somewhat “normal” senses and ready to be released. The ride home was silent. I kept thinking how I could have left this world without saying a final “good-bye” to my girls. That hit my heart with sheer utter sensitivity, as my eyes began to become moist. As we drove up in front of our home, I so somberly exited our vehicle. I closed the door and walked up the pathway.  As I opened the metal latch to the chain link fence I looked to the dirt covered ground. We have a beautiful giant Mesquite tree planted just to the right of our home. It had dropped its bean pods on the ground. These bean pods were U-shaped. There were pods all around the yard. I took a single glance at the tree droppings. With a continual gaze, I took a double take. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The tree pods seemed to be moving about as if they were dancing at me! My better half saw me staring, so attentively at the ground. “What’s the matter? What are you looking at?” My better half inquired. I thought about it for a while. Should I share this or not? For sure he will think I have lost all of my marbles. I began, “Baby you won’t believe this . Those droppings from the tree are wiggling and dancing at me.” The first thing that came out of his mouth was, “Estas Loca! (you are crazy). You’d better get off of those drugs Hardcore Holly.” I replied in a matter of fact way, “No baby, they are moving. I know you can’t see them but I can!”  His response was, “Just go inside and rest.”

I went into our bedroom. I took off my flip-flops and my clothes. As I laid myself down on the bed, my eyes were in a constant, over-active blink. As I opened my eyes I saw an  aerial character that resembled the cartoon Nightmare Before Christmas and Despicable Me. Soon after those images, I saw flying horses with fictitious caricature faces having a matter of fact conversation with me. Of course, I could see their mouths moving but the volume was muted. I had a perplexed look on my face, verbalizing, “Oh my gosh, what next?” My husband responded, “Nothing but positive things ahead for you, My Love.” Of course, I kept my personal cartoon slide show to myself.


Change Can Be A Haunting Illusion Of Pure Confusion But Conversion Is An Altered Diversion.

In 1997 I had a rather freak accident after receiving a state mandated inoculation.of  which I became totally incapacitated, mentally and physically. Due to my medically diagnosed chronic illness, I have been “asleep” for exactly twenty years. Between the full blown depression, the daily doses of  Fentanyl, (Morphine Patches) Robaxin, Neurontin, Suboxone, Flexeril, M.S. Contin, Valium, Effexor ER,  and Reglan to combat any foreseen problems I may have encountered along the way.

All of the chaos began shortly after my second baby girl was only five years old. At this time my health took a great decline. My body was engulfed in excruciating burning systemic nerve pain. My illness has many names. There is the name Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy, Causalgia, Fibromyalgia, and the most common, Chronic Pain Syndrome.

In retrospect, it seems like an enormous fog. In dealing with my pain I chose to shut my loved ones out. My pain was so unbearable I didn’t know how to handle it. I recall telling my patient and understanding but loving husband to lock me up in the small extra bedroom that we have in our home, away from everyone so as not to be a burden to anyone. Needless to say, my request was not granted.

I visited the  Pain Management Facility once a month.  The drive was is hours away. There were times that I received painful nerve Ganglion blocks to relieve major bilateral temporal and occipital pain. My experience also included (and still present) a severe skin rash that results in blisters and open skin sores, skin discoloration and a hot fire burning sensation.  Compared to all of these problems, my constipation seemed like a ride on a carousel at the local county fair.

After so many years with no change in my condition, every day seemed to be cookie cutter. I followed my daily mundane routine. My mind was so ‘Out To Lunch’ that by the Grace of my Creator, menopause came and went and I didn’t feel it. On that note, I consider myself highly favored.

This particular day was different. I had a feeling of total lethargy over me. My husband was a coffee drinker and enjoyed his fresh brew every morning. I got out of bed and went into the kitchen to make that routine cup of coffee. As groggy as I felt,  I took those careful and slow steps into the kitchen.  I felt a whirlwind of lethargy come upon me. I leaned my body against the kitchen counter with both of my elbows resting on the counter top. My lights went out. The next thing I recall was my husband sitting on the floor to my left, softly patting my chest to bring me back to consciousness.

In the aftermath, my husband explained, “I heard a sound coming from the kitchen, like someone banging on the pantry doors. I called your name and you didn’t answer.” He went on to say, “I got my walking sticks and went into the kitchen. I saw you laying on the floor with your body moving in a jerking motion with your arm hitting against the kitchen cabinet doors. I placed my arm on your chest to see if you were breathing, as I called your name.”

What seemed like a few minutes in time, I felt my husband’s touch and I heard his voice. I opened my eyes. Of course, I wondered what I was doing on the floor. “Why are you sitting on the floor? What am I doing on the floor?” I inquired. He explained. The first emotion I felt was fear. I could have died! If my husband would have been at work I would be dead! Because I didn’t understand what went array, I opted to call 911. Within minutes the response was at our front door.



One day while sharing a conversation with a co-worker, she made an interesting statement. She said to me, “You give to receive.” A couple of decades later that statement still resonates within me.

As human beings we all have our reasons for taking certain actions. It’s quite unfortunate that as people we do things for others with our own agenda in mind. We do things not from our heart of hearts, but to satisfy our own ulterior motives. This form of response is totally unacceptable. If you are ever given an opportunity to do something for someone, my only hope is that you do it with a whole heart, expecting nothing in return for the invested situation. To expect nothing is to never be disappointed.

Giving is such nourishment to your soul. Assisting humanity as you feel the warmth of the celestial rainbow surround you, is the Creator’s warm and loving embrace upon you.

“And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices GOD is pleased.” Hebrews 13:16



When the clouds burst into tears
The sadness of our Creator appears
Worldly people who show no remorse
Idea that they are always right, of course
The continued hurt of humanity
Forever in search of vanity
In a world of pure insanity
Never to admit the wrong
Daily singing that “I’m A Victim” Song
Words of pure hate that penetrate the soul
Today’s youth entitled and out of control
Morals are low, attitudes selfishly defy
“Give to me” expectations are high
A planet of immediate conformity
The displaced secrecy of confidentiality
In the world of sexual virtual reality
All in search of an instant quick fix
Dipping their hands in a personal bag of tricks
What has happened to true authenticity?
Good old-fashioned courtesy simplicity?
No respect
Only self-centered human neglect
This land’s era is drastic
These grounds have gone to hell in a hand basket.



I am a strong woman of a particular age. First and foremost, I am an honest but opinionated person. I am a strong believer of “Treat others as you expect to be treated.” You can say that I am an “old school” disciple. My life has not been easy. In a nutshell, I have been through a Mental Sunami Disaster.  I am in the enlightening phase of my life.  Although it has been a difficult task, I have decided to psychologically pack up all the negativity in my life, box it up and bury it at the bottom of the ocean.  You must be willing and able to just detach and let it all go back into the earth’s substratum so that it can be recycled for the good of others. This by no means happens over night.

Presently, my life continues to be a work in progress. I have no doubt that my destination is but a few moments away. Love, Peace and Happiness to all.