In my room: Thrust into the world--
Friend,
This is my life story. “Forsanet haec dim meminesse iuvasit” -(Virgil, “someday it may favorable to remember these things”) Please, in the name of His glory, for me, give the world the message that it will be all right. There are still honest people on this hallow ground, honorable--trustworthy-- and true.
There are natural counselors and spiritual people that Love. These Healers and God are with you no matter how dismal circumstances may seem. God Will provide even though his miracles come in ways that are hard for us to understand. He does have a plan that will ultimately guide us to where we need to be, simply if we believe.
There are people who know the deepest reaches of the human heart and existence. Also, there are others like you that are or have suffered the realms of dark places. There is help. Forlorn-- know that you’re not alone.
There are people like me, sensitive and open, who can hear you--I may not be able to understand everything, but I can hold your hand and cry. Together, perhaps, we can shed the suffering that, as mere mortals, we endure. But how?
Breaking the cycle of accepting everything is key. Things aren’t always ok! You don’t have to accept everything verbatim. People can hurt. Things can happen that don’t agree with our understanding of the world. Life goes on. We are but a speck of sand in the desert of time. Each of our lives are imperative to the continuation of the world and yet we can no more harm it than a fly attacking the face of the universe.
Paradoxical: that’s what we are. Contradictions trying to make sense of what things “really” mean. However, in the end, I have faith that there will be “peace in the valley” even as we leave a trail of tears behind.
Maybe there’s hope for me yet… if you don’t forget--with this thought, I give birth to my child, my legacy, the creation of writing. Propelling a self into the future… I’ve followed my heart as long as I can…
Lovingly yours--
Sher
All things questioned warrant an answer. All things asked necessitate a response. Everything is valid if you let it be --if a curious scientific mind would like to know then it need only realize which question to ask!
Chapter 1: A door: A portal entryway into the closet-case of a memoir of a madwoman:
“Beyond the reach of human range;
A drop of hell, a touch of strange.”
Steven King, Dark Tower (179)
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| Joyce and Velma @ old house |
I, a spiritual house, my own temple: where I must worship in silence yet exist loudly in action. Although usually quiet and reserved I’ve made quite loud statements in my life. But I don’t think that they’ve been heard, not in any significant way.
Significant-- what a joke, a tool we use to impose our own will on the “importance” of something. As if every living thing made of a cell does not pose a beauty and grace far beyond that which we can lend by our thought!
A conglomeration of has-beens, never-was’ and wanna-be’s crouch before me. “Success” had always been a part of my life as well as every failed attempt to make a lasting meaningful connection with another human being.
A betrayal; therein lies my saga of failure. I could do or be anything in the world but loved. What else is there? There is no real achievements without another to share them with you. As man, we aspire to unite, to communicate, to relate. For me, to know that one is not alone in the universe is the most important facet of human existence.
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| Family Event |
A conglomeration of has-beens, never-was’ and wanna-be’s crouch before me. “Success” had always been a part of my life as well as every failed attempt to make a lasting meaningful connection with another human being.
A betrayal; therein lies my saga of failure. I could do or be anything in the world but loved. What else is there? There is no real achievements without another to share them with you. As man, we aspire to unite, to communicate, to relate. For me, to know that one is not alone in the universe is the most important facet of human existence.
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| Harlo... Bertha's Brother |
Isn’t that what Love is? --the willingness to sacrifice ones self/whole completely and undiluted; focus, dedication and commitment without reserve to another is this not what He has taught us? Is this not what we should game to be? The solitary life of spiritualism coupled with the knowledge that without Other there is no Life or a potential for a knowledge or a spiritual solidarity. “What is wisdom?”-- becomes a quest…
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| Family Event |
Taking the world by storm I stepped out, walked the path lined with fellow fighters and said “enough--my life is mine… I will not be pushed around or hit anymore, I am my own person… I am”. A contradiction-- elder from a time and land far since past, looking at the world through the eyes of a trusting, believing and often bewildered child.
A “will to succeed” is great but my will is to help others--for me this is true success. I Love but am hated, and at some points in my life loved to be hated (by those who hurt me or others).
With the ease of a raging bull I could stampede and dominate yet I chose to live a life as harmless as a butterfly is to a flower. I am, but I loathe what I am, for I am damned! Teflon warrior with a Teflon mind tormented by the opiate of cancer. God has truly put a burden on my heart--that of caring.
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| Bertha -- as a young woman |
How can you state anything but a problematic may? How do you pretend to know anything until you know who you are? The “truly” caring are those who examine themselves daily.
Reestablishing, reinventing--living in the ever fleeting moment, redefining with every reflection of a second that has come to pass. One must project valiantly into an unknown future with hopes and aspirations that oneself constructs from the minds and thoughts of forever-long sufferers. We all must share in the unforeseeable black void that we call upcoming events.
With the flurry of a present now past-- with hardly a breath taken in between--this is the mysterious ways of our reality. We can only “know” the “unknowable” indirectly; we are only complete and without Self/ contradiction in death, are we not? The “Knower” is what our ancestors called Him whom created us and sees the unforeseen.
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| Bertha, her siblings and her mutti Grandma Lou (Etti Peters) |
I hope for a Heaven, but I feel I must have done something terribly “wrong” (as if such a thing was, without thinking it such, or is there? A crime against our fellow man, is this not the ultimate definition of missing the mark?).
I’m living in a hell as my reality; something which by far exceeds my capability of comprehending… my torment, my uncertainty, why do people hurt? Is this just? And what is justice? Will I ever find any? Bottle of scotch in one hand, book in another, where is there room for hope? Faith?
Sometimes I feel as a modern Anne Frank in middle suburban America. Fettered by the very essence of my being, what is core to me is alien to those around me. I love and yet my surroundings have lost sight of the good word, they have forgotten God.
Command, commandments and condiments? Comments and words that are commonplace yet house little significance in peoples everyday lives. Sleep in church for an hour on the Sabbath and what you do for the rest of the week is your business? In the end the serpent will bow before Him on bended knee and tremble, as will all men believers and not for they will proclaim that He is GOD one and only!
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| Louis Milliman (Bertha's Dad) and his sister |
Be this genius or madness I know not. The knots of inspiration are tied so tightly so thickly, a loose uncertainty of my mind leaves me just with the ability to keep my head above water. Will I collapse or will I float? Sink or swim that’s life!
“He” says I manipulate. Yes I do believe that is what a human being is… an imitator and manipulator (assimilator). So now I will tell you a story… for I am accused of being a story-teller… and you, my dear reader, can decide what is true and what is fake and what is stranger than fiction. This all could be real or, in my twisted mind, none of it could be real outside of my perspective. The irony of life… we never know what others see do we?
“I do not believe that I am now dreaming, but I can not prove that I am not.”--Bertrand Russell
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| Bertha 1st Wedding |
Have you ever felt like a head in a jar, in a Scientists lab? How do you know that you are not presently located in a coma in a hospital bed, from an incident occurring years prior? And, does it matter?
I mean, if your dream interacts with others and you have no control over it anyway… what’s the point if your dreaming of a reality or living a reality of dreams? The degradatial force of others is inconsequential nevertheless to how we view the importance and/or significance of other in our life.
Are we happy with ourselves and our actions? Do we act respectfully to others? Are we responsible to/for our actions-- can we be held accountable without diverting the focus of attention toward someone else that we will/want to be guilty?
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| Bertha's Mom and her Family "The Peters" |
I need somebody to listen to Hear. I call out into the darkness without a sound--noiseless stomping figure--in a world of chaotic pitch. So loud is my cry that it deafens the ears of the forgotten; will you notice me?
Dear Reader, can you acknowledge my words--the Word--the Word of the sacrificed bearing the burden of the crossroads of her life? They said I could not tell the truth; yet every second their reality changed to a different truth. Ever-justifying, they could not see that I was not the one changing.
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| Joyce (Jude), Velma, Jane (mom), Me Irwin Milspaw and Bertha |
I was stuck… like most with OCD, in a harsh unyielding reality… not much imagination, just repetition, occurrences, obsessions. Filled with thoughts that would not stop… exacted memories which have been skeletons in the cob webs of my haunted mind… this is life for me. It just never ends.
I cannot create or construct… too literal most of the time… too deliberate. My friend, lying is forbidden, lying breaks trust, lying is not loving and I am all about Love! Well, in short this is how I became me!
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