Murraytalk

As I was sorting through pictures this morning I came across pictures of my seven-year-old granddaughter with girls that she met for the first time on a 2 day stay in Prescott. I was drawn to the smiles on their faces and the love in their eyes. They met, accepted each other, and acted as if they had been lifelong friends. Oh, how I had forgotten about the innocence of a child. The color of skin, the size of a body, the structure of a face does not matter. They are ready to accept and love unconditionally until we and society teach them differently. There was nothing but smiles and laughter as they danced, made beaded jewelry, and ate. They made sure that they all were a part of whatever they were participating in. They cared about each other's feelings and made sure that everyone was having fun and was happy. Why is it that we grow to become so obsessed with appearance and behavior of others that we miss seeing the light or the struggles in others?  We're so quick to jud

After spending the past weekend with friends and family I started thinking about how we all at least once in our lifetime made a decision that tests our character. I am a person that reacts. As much as I count to ten, pray first, or go to my zen place, it doesn't always work for me. Sometimes I just need to be heard, and if you're screaming and not really hearing my words I'm going to get as loud as necessary for you to hear me. It's not the best solution, trust me! But, it's my character - who I am. I could blame it on my childhood, but that would mean that I'm not taking ownership for my behavior. I don't believe it's fair as an adult to use them as an excuse for my actions in life. But, I do believe with any bond there will be some disagreement and some conflict - that's just life! We need to speak; our truths, discuss our hurts, share our joy and sadness, otherwise, it festers and it's like walking on land mines each time you're aro

I came across this as I was scrolling through Instagram this morning. It was the missing piece of the puzzle in regards to what I was feeling this past weekend. I am so tired of the expectations of others being placed on me. I am not you and I will continue to be who I am regardless if it fits into the cookie cutter world that you have created for yourself. I don't expect people to be in my life if it doesn't work for them, but what I do expect is, if you are a part of it accept me as I am flaws and all. I'm tired of the "you know how she is" whispers. The " she needs to fix that" conversations, and the trying to control what I say and do. The solution to those concerns are simple...Don't be involved in my life. The one thing that has always been missing in my family is no one really hears the words that are being said, so there's no real understanding of what is hurtful or what takes me back to a place that I don't want to revisit.

The past few weeks I've been sorting through my many tubs of pictures. As I was going through them I came across a checkbook style booklet that belonged to my mother. I had no memory of looking through it before. As I sat and thumbed through it I came across a yellow and fragile bible verse that she had carefully tore out so every word was readable. The verse was about the evil in the world. Seeing this triggered an explosion of emotions in me. I couldn't help but think that she must have thought her life was intended to be ruled by evil; that this was just the way of the world. It gave me a better understanding of why she turned a blind eye to things that she should have confronted, but saddened me to think that she didn't feel or believe that she was worthy of a better life. I don't believe anyone ever told her that she could clean up her mistakes; that she deserved more, and could have more. Instead she just lived life with the way it was; never fighting for chan

A little late on writing my thoughts for the day. My 3 year old grandson spent the day with me and I had forgotten all that was involved with hanging out with him. I figured better late than never, so here's a quick message that I want to share. I read several different devotionals each day, but one that I'm really enjoying was sent to me by the author. His name is Charles L, and the book is Just A Thought . It's a book for those in sobriety, but I think everyone can apply his thoughts to their life. Yesterdays thought was a great reminder for me. It was about surrender and how surrender is the key to the gates to Heaven. I was reminded that I need to allow myself to be directed by God instead of trying to control everything in my life. I work hard on not trying to control, but growing up in a highly dysfunctional home, you tend to control. Also, having a son living with me that is working on his sobriety sometimes sends me to a place of control. I remind myself most

The more that I write about my journey the more I have to protect my thinking and not let the thoughts of my past begin to consume me. Last week I allowed my thoughts to go in a negative direction, thinking of my sister/niece stealing my mother's home and money. She was raised as my sister and my mother cared for her and loved her as her daughter, but once my father died it became apparent that our love and family were not important to her if there wasn't a chunk of money waiting for her at the end of the rainbow.  I had to cut off all communication with her this year because her actions are unacceptable to me, and thinking about her choices caused too much restlessness in my soul; and you all know that I cherish my peace.  What I'm getting at is that sometimes we have to walk away from those that we spent our entire life loving unconditionally. She was the one that I always protected. I removed her from the chaos as much as I possibly could when she was a child.

Last week I talked about how so many of us are living chaotic lives and feeling like we have no purpose. I stressed how impactful our stories are and how just a word of hope can change someone's life. It was five days after I wrote that I was led to share my story with a hurting soul that's spirit had been crushed. As I sat listening to the words that could barely be spoken as tears ran down their cheeks, I could not only see, but could feel the hopelessness and hurt. I guided, gave hope, and then I said, "I hear that you don't believe in God - why?", I asked. With no real answer given, I got it. I knew exactly where she was coming from - a place of years of hurt and disappointment. A place where you've cried too many tears and screamed out to God for help more times than you can count, and your life remains the same. I was there many years ago. I was living a life of one day not believing because I saw no changes, and another day of believing because I had

Last week I had told myself to stop writing this blog. "What's the point I asked myself ?" I shared that thought with my good friend Deborah, and what she expressed was the reason I had started sharing my journey in the first place. It's giving hope to someone that is struggling. We never know who we will impact. There are so many people that live chaotic lives feeling like they have no purpose - I was one of them. I thought of what an impact one person sharing their story would have had on me during my darkest days when I felt nothing but hopelessness. Their survival story, or simple words such as, "You're going to make it." would have given meant everything to me. We all have the capability to be effective in significant ways for others. We can turn our "ripples" into a powerful wave that will change the life of an individual, but not while sitting in silence. Our voices can be great tools in helping heal others. People need to hear your

I touched on how music and my poems got me through my dark moments, but what was also a huge part of my growth was my connections with people that God had placed in my path. He always had me connected with faith believing people before I had a true belief in Him. I didn't become a believer in God until 1989. I hadn't been walking in faith, I was just making my life decisions in the flesh with hopes that they would work out as I planned. In most cases they did, but I knew and felt that I was still missing something. I spent a lot of years just going through the motions of life never really being thankful for each day. I just expected tomorrow to be waiting for me. But all of that changed when I started having a reoccurring dream to move to Phoenix, AZ. I shared my dream with my husband and he applied for a job in Phoenix; went on the interview, and that was that. He didn't get the job and we didn't put much thought into it...we just continued going through the motion

Last week I started cleaning out one of my many file cabinets and came across a folder of poetry that I had written over twenty years ago. I had forgotten how much of my healing had come from my poems. They're a combination of Eminem and Mother Teresa depending on the day and the mood, but all of them speak my truth, and truth is what I had been searching for since I was a young child. I heard the saying, "The truth will set you free" enough times to know that I wanted that internal freedom. Although, I never received the truth that I was so eager to receive as a child from my parents and aunt, (each of them took it to their grave)  I had to accept that I would probably never know the truth of their lives. I would never know what past hurt they endured and carried that molded them into the people that they became; and maybe that's best. As Jack Nicholson said in A Few Good Men, "You can't handle the truth!"  Probably not, so I'm good with the not

"It is only possible to live happily-ever-after on a day-to-day basis" -Margaret Bonnano I mentioned in my blog last week that there was only one time in my life that I couldn't fake a smile or climb out of the dark hole that I had fallen into. It was one time because from that experience I realized that happiness was something that I had to cultivate on a daily basis. It wasn't possible for me to live years of dysfunction and live happily ever after by walking out the door of my childhood home. I didn't want to keep reflecting on any misfortunes that had occurred in my past. I had come far enough and had acknowledged that stuff happens to everyone. I knew that my experience was nothing in comparison to what others endure. I'm not giving my parents a get out of jail card for situations that should have never happened. I just needed to move past it so I could close all of my open wounds and become a happy being. "The word 'happiness'

Happy, positive and determined had become my new way of living life; at least that's what I thought. But, we all know that life isn't that easy. I was positive in my thinking, but I always seemed to leave the window open just enough for a negative thought from my past to slip in and challenge my thinking. The majority of the time I was able to dismiss them, but I had one week in the late 80's that put up a good fight. It was difficult for me to climb out of bed each morning and function, and harder for me to smile. My smile had always seemed to get me through the worst of days, but this time I struggled. A good friend of mine, June, stopped by one day as I was lying on the carpet lifeless watching the kids play. She kept asking me if I was okay, and I tried hard to sound convincing that I was, but I wasn't even buying it. For the first time in my life the fight had left me and I didn't know how to get it back. This was my suffering, and it was just there. I had

I know that I flew through 18 years of my life in just a few blogs, but you got the picture of what my home life was like. I lived through it and survived it, so I'm not very good today at making it sound as nightmarish as I did when I first started sharing my journey. I'll never deny that it wasn't good for any of us mentally, but I've healed, grown, and moved on. There's no going backwards for me, so hanging on to anger from it isn't my focus. That part of my life challenged me, pushed me, educated me, and made me who I am today - I'm thankful for it! My Epiphany It was in my twenties when I received my epiphany that I needed to work on my attitude about life. I had always told myself that the one thing that I would never be in life was my parents. But, one day as I was yelling about something senseless I knew that I was becoming what I didn't want to be. At that  moment I took ownership of what a shitty person I was. I was cynical, judgmental, a

My time at home during my high school years became mainly a place to lie my head at night. I wasn't really involved with whatever nonsense that took place each day - it was school and work for me. My focus had switched to saving as much money as possible to walk out the door at 18. I Turned 18 I left home at 18 with a husband and a daughter. My life was finally going to begin, but my father wasn't a good loser. He would call me on the phone trying hard to break me down with his words, and on occasion would walk back and forth in front of my place of employment trying hard to intimidate me. It wasn't about him missing me or loving me; it was simply because I had broke free, and he had lost control.   The Confrontation Finally one night after work I stopped by my parents home to confront the issue. He flew into a rage shouting that he was going to kill me. I was beyond tired of that same old threat that he screamed at each of us at least once in our lifetime. I

My days of sitting in solitude gazing at the sky asking God to take me away from my home had ended. I was older and had become wise enough to recognize that no one was coming to rescue me. Life at home was the same, and year after year family came to visit from California and New Mexico always leaving us behind when they left. I was tired of carrying false hope, so at the ripe old age of 15 I made the decision to no longer believe in the God that I knew nothing about. I needed to figure my life out, and I needed to do it on my own. I only had three years left to have a solid plan. I was no longer the little girl that for eleven years sat on the curb saying childlike prayers while never losing hope of  a miracle. I was done hoping and waiting - I needed to take control of my life. I was in High School now, and although my thoughts were more positive, my focus on school just wasn't there. As much as I loved school I was consumed with thoughts of leaving home. My mind was always

The summer before entering middle school I spent most of my weekdays at a summer program held at the elementary school, and riding around on my bike with Deborah. One day on our ride we stopped at the corner gas station where I had stopped so many times before to grab a soda for our ride. I jumped off my bike and ran to get change. When I asked for change I was told to follow Poochie into the office. I was suddenly pushed inside by King as he locked the door behind him, There I stood stuck inside a tiny space with the two men that had treated me like family. I knew that I was in trouble, so I fought...swinging, kicking and punching the two men that were working hard on ripping off my clothes. What seemed like hours I know was only minutes - thankfully Deborah's instinct signaled  that something was wrong. She pounded her fists on the door screaming at them to let me out, and they did - walking away like they had done no wrong. We rode away that day never looking back or speakin

Today marks 58 years that God has blessed me with; and I am beyond grateful! There were many years of my life that I just took each day for granted, not acknowledging that everyday is a gift that I have been blessed with. I was too busy surviving and working to accumulate things, versus using most of that energy and time on people. I missed out on moments because I was too busy focusing on what was ahead instead of being in the now. It really wasn't until I woke up one day and found out that I had stage 4 cancer. I was in the best place in my life back then I thought. I was in great physical shape, working and going to school, but my life got turned upside down. Every time my doctor would tell me how lucky I was that I caught my cancer in time, and it was good that I listen to my body, I saw it as my wake up call from God. I had become lost with recognizing my purpose, and I was living with a more is better attitude. Don't get me wrong, I like nice things, but I don't

In my prior blog I mentioned my sister giving birth to a baby girl that was my father's child. I didn't feel a major shift in my life with the birth of my sister/niece. I also had a younger brother in the home at that time, so another child was my blessing of less attention directed towards me. I was at a point in my life that less was best. I cherished my solitude and would find any place without people to be. My father had an office that was detached from the main house that I would spend hours hanging out in enjoying the silence. My father liked to gamble so there were many times that  he was gone for an entire week, sometimes coming home only to grab fresh clothes. I never knew for sure when he would return, but I had become bolder with leaving the house when he was away. Such as, riding my bike around the neighborhood and staying outside until the streets lights came on. I know that sounds ridiculous to most people, but when you live in a controlled environment, it&#

As you begin your journey today, be aware of the tiniest moments. It's in those moments that we often find our greatest joy.  "Keep your head up and your heart open" Peace, Love & Hugs!

My Sisters Before I continue with my journey I want to say that I have never thought of or introduced my sisters as half sisters, so I will be referring to them as my sisters. The Birth and The Truth My sister Anna was in 8th grade, the year was 1966 when she gave birth to a daughter. I was young, but in my heart I knew that this was my father's child. There was never a conversation because we didn't talk about anything real as a family, it was all just fluff. It wasn't until July of 1990 on the day before my father's funeral that my sister Anna spoke her truth. I was 31, and for the first time I saw her power and strength. I was thrilled that she had found her voice. I'm sure many thought her timing could have been better, but it was genius. She had her stage, and sometimes you only get one chance in life, and this was hers! She had the entire family waiting for her to take her turn and say something noble and grand about the evil man that di

My Mother My mother was a quiet and timid woman when my father was around. I'm not sure if her quietness was fueled by submissiveness or fear, but I was always in awe of how in control she was. It didn't matter how horrible the words were that were being spewed at her, she never fought back. Maybe she knew nothing good would come from adding fuel to the fire - we all had witnessed his rants leading to him waving his gun and threatening to shoot. I didn't understand until I was in my mid twenties that his words and gun were his way of controlling each of us. He was a powerless and weak man that never loved himself or freed himself from his guilt and shame. Controlling was all he had, and maybe my mother allowed him to have that. She had more strength than any woman that I have met thus far. I'm not saying her choices were always good, but she had a lot of shit come her way, and not once did I see her crumble. Never did I hear her cry poor me, or ask for anything. Sh

My mother met my father in New Mexico shortly after he was released from prison is the story that I was told. My mother had six children when they met - one she had given to a cousin, and the other five lived with her, my uncle, and grandfather. I was born in New Mexico and lived there until I was a year old. We relocated to Tucson after three of my half siblings died in a fire at my grandfathers home while my mother was out for the evening. I was with my father when the fire took place. My Uncle and several firefighters fought hard to save everyone that night. My mother made the front page of the paper as the mother that showed no emotion when hearing the news of the death of her children. I still have that tattered yellow paper today. My father, mother, myself, and my two half sisters started our new life in a barrio in Tucson. Our family stood out because we were the only inter-racial family, and my father was very flamboyant. He always drove a new Cadillac and adorned himself

I had to look at the date of my last blog, which was Aug. 2016 to remember the last time I took a few minutes of my time to sit and share my thoughts. Five months is a long time and quite a few changes have occurred for me. The most recent is finding out that I would no longer be watching three of my grandchildren. (I have 11) I have been watching this set consistently for the past seven years - partially because my son was in active addiction during those years. I found out through the slip of the tongue from my seven year old granddaughter that they were opting out of continuing to bring them to me. I felt a mixture of emotions, but anger was my initial feeling and the most difficult for me to get past because I felt that I deserved more. I deserved a conversation, and I deserved gratitude; both of which I didn't receive. I ended up initiating the conversation because in order for me to have peace I have to confront situations that don't settle well in my soul. I expresse