LESSONS LEARNED……..from the sofa of Nikki Gloom©

Well, I have realized at 39 I am not 14. Nope. As much as we would like to indulge in that childish notion that I could be, its not possible. I remember someone I knew at 11 who climbed an escalator and thought that was amazing till he fell in the fountain in a mall and then picked himself up graciously and said “well I’ll never do that again but that was worth it” yeah.. You know that was some bullshit right there, but at 39 that wont work. People will look at you like a nutter now.

In my life I was a mess when I was a kid, realizing I was never thinking right, and had a few health issues but you know what I fucking made it. My parents were my heroes, taught me everything that I needed to know including a godfather. I have had ups and very lows but a few things I learned.

I am not a number, I am a human being. It is time to stand up and say ‘ok I count, I am here to be counted ,loved and respected and if I can help my fellow people I can do my part.” If for example all I can do is sew socks least I know someplace a baby, a soldier, a homeless person is gonna be warm at night.

I am trying to love myself just as much as the image in the mirror and the woman standing next to me. I can choose who I love and I can deal with my actions and reactions. Right now the issue is gay marriage. Not everyone will understand, not everyone will love and accept it but I think one of the basic things we overlook is this. We all want to be loved. We all want to be adored, cared for and appreciated. If that comes from a different race or sex or the same sex we are going to get that. I will not be stifled in who I love or who he adores or who she married. Its not about that, its about are you man or woman enough to still love your child or friend who chooses to be loved in a different way. Can you? Will you? Some people wont and cannot and that’s ok.

Freedom is something we fought for. We all fought to come out into the world did we not? We been fighting since we been born, our rights the right to love , live and speak and be free. Only thing is there are rules of respect, and we shouldn’t be fighting each other. Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither was a relationship, nor a country.

Another topic of hot conversation is Immigration. Ok lets talk about it. We are all human. Ok well my cat would like to think so too, but forget him, because he is busy trashing the bathroom. That isn’t winning points. We are all human. We all have a way we want to go, promises to keep, people we are separated from, a certain ambition to be free and keep what we have love and cherish. We are separated by borders, wars, religion but most of all ourselves. We choose not to understand and listen to each other. A woman doesn’t want to be on the streets oweing her life to someone else. A man with no past and no way to feed his family has to start someplace because somewhere he has that inner pride to be a man. A woman somewhere wants her daughter to have the voice to speak without rules because she never got that chance. Another woman wants the freedom to show her face to the sun. We want a place to call home, our own home and to be proud of ourselves and show generation after generation- I did that. That’s mine. We separate ourselves. We created borders. We make them to keep what we dont like, understand and the refusal to accept out. I forgot to say that someday we will all die. We don’t live forever. You don’t deserve to have a country, home and life and be happy because???? Who is anyone to say “No you cant have a life.” on the other hand, some people feel entitled, they feel like they don’t want to pull other people’s weight. When looking across a fence of any nation to another who are you to say “No you cant be here.” What makes you better? Again Rome was not built in a day. One day your gonna need the rocks he has to build Rome, and he will need the food you have to feed the workers, because he can build Rome. You have the land to make Rome. Get it? Immigration stands as a hot topic but beyond borders of yourselves and the world……. look beyond both.

Every generation has something to pass on good or bad. Its up to us as individuals to stop and think and take what’s positive. Lessons learned, Loves and Losses and your Land.

©Nikki Gloom

A Touch of My Stuff” inspired also by the works in film “Colored Girls”{my version}

by Nikki Gloom© 2013

Inspired by “All My Stuff” from the movie “Colored Girls”

 When I was born, She took all my stuff.

Left me with nothing but screaming,
Screaming did me just fine cause I had that.
When She found me she gave me something,
Food, water, and hope and a hug,

Later She took me and made me hers,
But I wasn’t stuff, I was just hers.
Years passed and I earned my stuff, I worked, cleaned , cooked, and wrote, read, and learned to get my stuff,

Some days they didn’t get me,
We argued about everything,
Blending colors, to vile words, to books, to what was mine and proper, lessons.
Close my eyes for a second, losing sleep, She wanted me to have stuff.
When I got stuff, She took it.
Thought it was mine to have but it wasn’t.

Looked in the mirror and thought to myself at times,
Maybe I just wanted the screaming back, She could have my stuff,
Looked in that mirror again and saw nothing but her.
But I didn’t know who the hell that was.

Passion for a place I did not know,
Places I never saw,
When She took me and returned,
I found all my stuff.
And my heart.

Later in years,
People took all my things, my stuff,
I never said a thing,
maybe I should not have given in trust,
All my stuff,
Shy, unpredictable and sweet, quiet I let them take,

One night I so still and quiet I woke,
He was cold, brutal,
And took all my stuff,
I walked in the lights of a tractor trailer,
Not finding my silver necklace,
I wanted to be rid of all my stuff,
A shove out of a 4 lane highway,
A girl got me all my stuff
But I did not want it.

Sparkling lights, the world glittered,
Books, notes and chasing paper, grindin and hustle and the flow
I got my stuff back,
But She was gone,
The mirror wasn’t there,
In the silence She took all my stuff,
But I did not care,

He smiled and then one night everyone took my stuff,
Cause I wasn’t aware, blood, tears and screams,
Two lines and crosses to bare,
He took my stuff and now I was mad
Enough to say “Hey what the f**k!?”
But there was a slap and the door slammed shut.

He said I was trash, wasn’t worth nothing,
I was cold, he said I was his, and that I was a whore,
Sitting against the floor, in tears, there was another
With all my stuff.
Another took my hand and made me smile,

Left again after what glittered wasn’t gold,
It’s the secrets left we hold,
He walked away but this time, loving me
I got all my stuff with a diamond,
All that glittered was gold,
just the color in my hand.

Years in and out life folded the pages,
And I had Her stuff and mine and hers,
But losses, I realized came with prices,
She caused another heartache when She fell
My pedastool was gone and He left too
He the quiet simple man we all knew
I had nothing but my heart to feel
Forced a smile laced with bitterness but that i never showed
I simply swallowed it
Aged photos said it all

Years past and the prices I paid,
I see now, everything is silent, serene and true,
But here He was across an ocean,
He smiled again,
Will he understand and share my stuff?
I own my stuff now,
She does not own it,
The other, she, and he loves me for it,
And I would give him my stuff,
But He and Hhe will have to cherish it,
In a moment, in a second of time,

He and she can have my stuff,
Maybe in a secret,
I keep it in a box,
Safe and secure,
They can look an see,
But it will always be mine.
My Stuff of time.

by Nikki Gloom©Image

My Memories- My Father, Dr Michael D McGuire {also to be read in memorial}

©Nikki Gloom >

My Father

Today, we are here to celebrate and remember a man. Not just a man but an extra ordinary wonderful near perfect man. Our Dad, A husband, and a Doctor. One of the first doctors to practice in the field of adopted adolescent psychiatry. Working in places such as Norristown State Hospital and Doylestown Hospital, Brookline Institute {now} and many others across the country. This man was born in 1930 to loving wonderful parents and grew up to be someone successful, shy, and loyal and loving and caring and enriching to everyone around him. He is survived by many adult children and adopted and 1 not, whom he considered a daughter and took care of many more who were not his as well.

Past years I do not know too much about before mid 1970‘s. I remember a collection of things, the colors of his velvet striped robe from long ago. Wearing Dad’s t shirts when he wasn’t looking, wearing them to school and his flannels, then having to wash and replace them later before he or mom found out or Alejandra saved my ass. I went as far as wearing his cologne cause it would deter the boys. Dad was the one that took care of the spiders, and all the monsters I dreamed about. The one I would balance on in midair when doing dance moves, He never said a word when the night of the ballet recital my costume fell in the toilet and I left mad. When Dad would sit and read with his nightly pretzel and milk, I would get his books and read too to look important. Dad shaved so I figured I would too which didn’t work out. I tried on his expensive boots and he had to pull me out of the mud. He taught me how to take care of basic medical things and in turn, I tried to save a guinea pig by doing surgery, when my first pet ran off and broke my heart he said everything would be ok. When we went fishing for dinner and came back with nothing and me as sick as a dog, he didn’t worry, he simply said “well that’s the way it goes sometimes in life. And “Ill be damned.” When I shared my failures and shame he just simply looked grave and said “Ok so now what do you want to do, its done so how are things going to be different?” When I decided to be come a blond because it was a fantasy of mine he was furious first forgetting who I was entirely then adamantly saying “Your not a blond, why in hell did you do that, Your Mexican. You can never be a blond its just doesn’t work, no I don’t like it. Put it back.” And I did. He let me drive when he knew I couldn’t, letting me steer till Aunt Kathy’s daughters- all three of us nearly drove us off the road. When I would complain about men I dated he would listen tilt his head and say “yeah yeah he sounds like a blithering Idiot, he is no good, some men will tell you a story and expect you to fall for it all, Do you really think he will ever change?” to which I replied “No.” One day I awoke to find Dad doing a horrifically frightful imitation of a Irishman from someplace down under in Ireland which scared the living pants off us all. After that most of us behaved well, for a while anyway. When I got my diploma he was there, and almost laughed after the girl before me who told me I was nothing- fell on her face. He was proud and told me I had accomplished something great. There was one thing though that Dad never ever could manage. It was a minor thing but well it was his hair. I am not sure to this day how or when he got it, where he got it, and who exactly had the genetics to leave him with it but yes Dad had hair that had a personality of its own. Even Donald Trump couldn’t top it. Mom would constantly be trying to flip it , comb, wax, curl, spray, organize it but never could. Her expression was “the wild man of Borneo” and later I looked it up but couldn’t find him either. Back in the 90’s when I dressed like a pop star and wore my hair in a 6 inch beehive we discussed it. I am sad to say that even LA Looks hair company was stumped on how to fix it.

When I would explain something utterly fascinating he would smile and listen even if it was something minute. Always attentive and quiet, patient, and brilliant he was always poised in whatever he did.

Dad was a wonderful father, doctor, mentor to a lot of people much more in the 60‘s- 2000‘s. He served in the military as well but I do not know much about that. Kind words and thoughts and ideas and more education followed, always striving for more knowledge, and ambition. When one tree was picked he would silently go onto another. There wasn’t a moment when his time wasn’t denied to someone in his profession staying late to finish work, words or sessions. I do not think that there will ever be a man like him, made like him and he will live on as one of the best people in the world of his profession and Fathers of today.

 

What a Father should be. Dr. Michael McGuire by Nikki Gloom

My Father

In life when your born, there should be a man in your world, that you should look up to and idolize and admire. It should be a Father. My Father, Dr Michael D McGuire was that man. He was born into a richly cultured family during the Great Depression and rose up to be one of the most prolific psychiatrists of his time, in the field of adopted adolescent psychiatry. He practiced in many hospitals across the country. Always patient, kind, taking time, making sure patients were treated with the best care, respect and love. He was always thinking, finding ways to solve issues, a quiet studious man into the night, he would read always loving life and the medical profession. He dedicated his life to people in the world helping adopted kids and working with them to help them get their lives in the right direction. This man never complained, often was shy, downplayed loads of his achievements, and had three marriages with 3 different wonderful women, adopted and natural kids from all three. Dr Michael McGuire was a force to be reckoned with in the psychiatric profession doing what he loved the most. He will be missed, loved and never forgotten as one of the most adored doctors of today. He passed on today March, 20, 2013.Image

CHEATING…

people have asked me about cheating. my ass is grown now so i will say this in light of some hollywood drama and my own experiences. when i was younger i really didnt consider people’s feelings but now i will say this. in any relationship you must have honesty, trust and communication. a lot of chicks slap another woman or men slap another man, listen lets be real, if a person cheats its cause they want to, or need a thrill or maybe the relationship is not as you thought. instead of blaming the other person it really shouldnt be that. you need to take it up with your partner.  You have a responsibility in a marriage to understand your partner and to accept responsibility for the relationship ,there is a reason he or she cheated no matter what the reason is. blaming the “other person” doesnt help.  The He said She said- its their Fault “ crap are excuses. There is a reason why your partners cheat. many people dont understand what it takes to have a long term relationship and make it work when there is obstacles. or what it means to be faithful. saying isnt the same as doing. relationships are a lot of work so if your the type that isnt going for a “lifetime” and your constantly tempted maybe the clue is your not ready. to my sisters and family and friends who are in one..you know what it takes and how to, It takes a real man or woman to say “no baby i dont want just you, and i dont want kids with you” trust me, your better off alone then forcing it on a person who never wanted it to begin with. Also some people make it their business to “get involved’ in other people’s business too and don’t respect shit. That too.  then it brings me to another point. before any relationship, make sure the previous one is done and your ready and that you love yourself first so you can bring 100 to him or her. This way there is no room for ‘the other man/woman drama.