Wednesday, November 7, 2012

A "Broken Hallelujah"


Ten words on the election:
It’s time to pull together for the good of all.

Prologue to Today’s Posting

This past Monday I read a posting that ended with “Hallelujah” by Leonard Cohen. I first heard that song when k.d. lang sang it at the Vancouver Winter Olympics in 2010. It led to my writing an introduction for a memoir that I hoped would be published the traditional way.        

    
            After reading that intro, a friend suggested I write differently. “You’re a  storyteller,” she said. “Tell stories in your memoir.” Then another friend suggested a blog and the two ideas coalesced: an on-line memoir.
            Thus, this blog, begun in May 2011, has featured stories rather than musings. So many blogs I read are replete with wisdom. I’m still looking for wisdom to tap me on the shoulder and announce its presence. In the meantime, I tell stories.
            Yesterday I found that 2010 introduction. I want to share it with you today as proof that I need to stick with stories!

That Old Introduction

I am a “broken Hallelujah.” Within the deep center of myself memory and Presence meet and merge. They proclaim, “I am broken, but I have survived.” What I have survived is my own desperate need to be enough for someone. To be enough that someone would love me despite my brokenness. Only in the last few years have I recognized that what I really want is to be enough for myself.
            The first five years of my life were idyllic. My parents loved me—dearly and deeply. Yet in 1941, when I was five, they left me with friends and took my baby brother with them to Parsons, Kansas. This seeming desertion left me fearful. That fear tripled when my dad began to drink heavily and a neighbor molested me for three months.
            Then came the loss of identity in a Benedictine convent in Kansas followed by twelve years of depression and the hallucination of three different aspects of myself. I kept these hallucinations hidden for twelve years during which I became both actively and passively suicidal.
            I have known my own failure of integrity, fallen into the frigid pit of despair, lost faith, endured Meniere’s.  
            We all have a long litany of the days of our life. This was mine.
            Through it all, I, like you, survived.
            In later years, Dr. Nimlos, an astute psychiatrist in St. Paul, Minnesota, told me that I had the most highly developed sense of survival she’d ever met. It’s like the word survival is branded on my soul. It’s the incised touchstone for each experience.
            I’m only guessing that, however, because in truth much of my life still eludes me. Who is that giggly child called “Dodo”?


            Who is that shy and subdued grade-schooler known as “Dolores?


            Who is that bemused college student hailed as “Dee Ready”?


            Who is that confused nun named “Sister Innocence”?


          Who are they?
            Who is she? 
            I’m hoping that writing this memoir will help me understand her.
            Depression, despair, apathy, deep-down-bone weariness are puzzle pieces. I’ve spent my life sorting them. Looking for like colors. Shapes. Images. This memoir, I hope, will finally reveal to me the picture that is my life. The pieces will sort themselves into the who of Dee Ready. I tell you now that she has come to believe in her own resilience. That was a gift of Meniere’s.
            Had I known before my seventieth year that Meniere's awaited me in its acute, progressive, intractable form, I do not know that I would have chosen to remain alive. Yet because of Meniere’s I now know that what I have searched for all my life is my authentic and true self. This broken Hallelujah seeks wholeness. As I begin this memoir, I wonder if the hardest, the deepest, the dearest wholeness is that which bears the jagged scars of struggle.
            All my life I’ve longed to be loved. To be enough for others. I now recognize, with gratitude, that the friends who have stood by me throughout these many years have loved me in my brokenness, almost despite myself. Now I begin to love Dee. Now I am enough for myself. Or perhaps I am just closer to being that enough. For does the journey of a broken Hallelujah ever end?

Postscript
·      If you’d like to see the first story I related on this on-line memoir, click here.
·      If you’d like to know how I go about writing the on-line memoir stories, please look at the most recent posting on my second blog—the one about writing.

54 comments:

  1. It seems what you describe, though the details of life are different, that our journeys are very similar. Perhaps, once we scratch the surface of each life we find something similar: jagged pieces trying to find their wholeness. One of the first poems I wrote as a teenager, was about feeling as though I was a puzzle piece trying to fit into the wrong puzzle (my family). Yesterday, a friend described this sense of separation as more a separation from our true selves, and so I continue my own journey of discovering myself, but with the fine companionship of similar souls such as yours. For that I am truly grateful.

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    1. Dear Teresa, I, too, am grateful that through blogging I've found companionship of similar souls. That is true Gift. Peace.

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  2. You have always been enough for me to love. I hope that you are also enough for YOU! I loved your garage door story--but then, I love everything of yours that I've read!!

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    1. Dear Fishducky, that garage door story was about an event that took place after a long drive down from Minnesota on June 6, 2009. I was exhausted, but that doesn't explain what happened. The truth is that I'd never before had an attached garage and I just didn't know how things worked! Peace.

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  3. First of all, Dee, thank you for those ten words.

    Second, I find more wisdom in your words and how you write that you could ever imagine. The way you write, the message(s) that come through are always wise, dear Dee. I have found in my own life that it is through the tough times, illness, sadness, etc. that, looking back, I have become stronger. Keep on writing, Dee.

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    1. Dear Penny, I'm pleased that messages come through my writing. Your saying that reminds me of a story about Hawthorne, his wife, and Herman Melville. He'd given Hawthorne his manuscript for Moby Dick and asked him and Rose to read it.

      After supper a week or so later, Hawthorne and Rose began to praise the writing. They kept mentioning all the symbolism. They went on and on about the symbols.

      Embarrassed, Melville finally said something like, "Thank you for seeing all that. I didn't put it there, but I'm glad you found it!" Melville, who was already famous for his novels about ships and men at sea, had thought he'd simply written another adventure about whaling! Peace.

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  4. All people are broken, no one is perfect, all are worthy of love.

    I think most of us can relate to your life as we have all suffered loss and had periods of deep depression, but yet we have survived, because we cared. Caring about ourselves and others is what makes the heart beat.

    It has been a long journey, but I have learned to love myself and know my value. Reading your stories, I see how much you have touched so many people in your life. Your life matters, you are wonderful, you are kind, you are smart, you are beautiful.

    There was a book from the 90's (or maybe the 80's) that was called, I'm OK, your OK. I always begin my blog with "I'm OK" because that is the one thing I know for sure (no matter what is going on). Life is hard but.......

    Dee, you are better than OK. We are blessed to have gotten to know you.

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    1. Dear Arleen, thank you for your kind words. You know I've never noticed that you begin your blog with "I'm okay." I've missed that wonderful clue to your whole personality and approach to life. Thank you for sharing that insight with me. Peace.

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  5. Your ten words about the election are perfect, Dee. All that needs to be said!

    And I loved your intro to the memoir. Your words and the pictures are so haunting, so evocative and your insights so wise, even if you happen to think wisdom eludes you!

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    1. Dear Kathy, I've never doubted your wisdom, and from you I've seen ways to combine story and reflection. But when I try to do that I mostly get lost in philosophizing! Peace.

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  6. I love your blog and the person who encouraged you to start it. I love your stories and your wisdom and your sense of justice. I love knowing that you are out there in the world seeking truth and light and bringing both to so many.

    Thank you.

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    1. Dear Kari, your kind words touched me deeply. You know I hope that my sense of justice comes from the example and teaching of my mother. I've often wondered where yours comes from. That would make such an interesting post for you to add to your blog. Peace.

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  7. You are spot on with your ten words. Everyone needs to seriously take them to heart or we are in trouble.

    I love your memoirs. Your writing style, the way you process life's events, your reactions to others, are all so inspiring and loving. Thank you for sharing with us, for putting yourself out there, and for not giving up. You help more than you can know!

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    1. Dear Shelly, The New York Times this evening has a front-page (on line) article about some glimmers of bipartisanship seen today. I haven't read the article yet but will do so before going to bed.

      I suspect that all the bloggers I read haven't given up. All of them, like you, have met hard times and you've endured and ultimately triumphed. Peace.

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  8. The first time I heard that beautiful song also was when k.d. lang sang it at the Olympics. There we were, two people who didn't know each other at all, and we were exulting in that song for the first time at the same moment. It was a connection between us before we knew it existed. It was a gift from God. You are a beautiful person and a beautiful writer. I'm so grateful I can call you "friend."

    Love,
    Janie

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    1. Dear Janie, I was going to post lang singing at the Olympics but what I found was just a video of her singing at various times during the song. No stream. So I choose a different occasion--when Leonard Cohen was given a award by the musicians of Canada.

      It's so true that we are all connected. That's the Oneness that I sometimes talk about in my responses to the postings I read. Be good to yourself. Peace.

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  9. I love that song and I've never heard Lang's performance, so thank you.

    Your words, as the are each time I visit, touch me deeply.

    Keep writing.

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    1. Dear Linda, I'm glad you heard her performance. The way she sings just seems to get to the essence of the song. And thank you for your kind words. The words of your postings always teach me so much about what I don't know. Peace.

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  10. your life story is nothing short of tremendous. you have strong survival instincts and a developed sense of justice. great to see you again:)

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    1. Dear Ed, thanks for stopping by; it's so wonderful to have you back in the ether-world! I tend to believe that the life story of each and every one of us is tremendous. It's just that so many of us do not have the time to ponder the meaning of it all. Peace.

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  11. Oh dear, dear Dee. Here in the blogosphere you are much loved, by me and many others. Your wisdom (and yes, I truly believe you are wise) touches a small still place deep inside me, and I often feel I have come home when I read your posts.
    Each and every time I see you have posted again (in either of your blogs) my heart sings.
    I believe that loving ourselves, or even accepting ourselves is a very difficult task indeed. I am still working on it, and can see no end in sight. Loving other people is much, much easier for those of us who set impossible standards for ourselves. We usually are much less hard on other people. A silliness.
    I have one request. Could you please increase the font size for your next post. I had my nose on the screen (which will now have to be wiped) to ensure I missed none of this very moving post.

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    1. Dear EC, thanks for telling me about the font size. I immediately went and changed the template. If it's still too small, please let me know and I'll increase the size again.

      I am so touched by your saying that you feel you come home when you read my posts. Thank you.

      And yes, I agree with you that we who are perfectionists are much harder on ourselves than on others. We simply demand too much of ourselves. And so, I do try to say to myself, "Dee, be gracious to yourself." Peace.

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    2. Thank you so much for changing the font size - I can now read the post with ease.

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    3. Dear EC, I seem to be having trouble with blogger--the type size is very big now on mine. Please do always let me know when it's too small! Peace.

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  12. I saw k.d. lang sing that song and was also completely blown away by it. Dee, your attempt to find yourself and the journey to love all those iterations is, as Teresa says, the journey we all take, all those of us who want to understand it all. Having made your acquaintance in your blogs and through your comments on mine, I realize that perhaps we are all pulling together for the good of all. Finally, I pray.

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    1. Dear DJan, lang does, as you say, just blow me away. She gets to meaning with her voice.

      It's so affirming to learn that you and Teresa and so many others are on this same journey. That we "are all pulling together for the good of all." Thank you for those words, DJan. Peace.

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  13. Dee, I am stunned at times by a world that seems to hold such agony in the same moment as such beauty...and the miracle that one could come from the other. May the Lord hold and comfort you, sing you to sleep and smile on you in the morning. May this journey to peace be filled with revelation and joy. Your soul touches so many...

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    1. Dear Chantel, it's my belief that out of all things can come good. Because of that I always look for the good when something seemingly bad or tragic happens in my life. It's been a mantra for me. Thank you for your prayer. It touched me deeply. Peace.

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  14. I really love that song. I'm so glad I found you through blogging my friend.

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    1. Dear Melynda, I, too, love that song. And I'm glad also that we found one another through blogging. Peace.

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  15. Dee,
    This posting made me cry. Just thinking that you've ever felt this way breaks my heart. Please know how very much you're loved by all of us.

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    1. Dear Elisa, I think that most people who are older--50s, 60s, 70s and beyond--have life stories that would bring tears to the eyes of those who really listened, as you do. Peace.

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  16. Dee, this is a most movingly, indeed achingly, honest post. I think like most of us, you didn't recognise in yourself those gifts and virtues that others see in us, often to our complete surprise.

    As soon as I discovered your blog I found there a wise, loving and deeply lovable woman with the courage and insight to tell her story to the world in a way that helps others make more sense of their own lives. Please don't doubt yourself again like this, dear Dee. You are no longer that person.

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    1. Dear Perpetua, this intro is so introspective. My friend's comments about it led to my telling stories in which I often want the readers to draw their own conclusions. There is, I believe, a great deal of melancholy within me. Fortunately, that's tempered by a good sense of humor and a belief in Oneness.

      Thank you for your kind words and I do believe that you are correct: I am no longer that person. Peace.

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  17. Dear Dee,
    you have gone through so much in your life, yet, I admire how you remain being this amazing nice persone. I'm so glad I have the chance to know you :) You should love yourself more than anyone else, because you are truly amazing :)

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    1. Dear Baiba, thank you for your kind words and for taking time out from your school schedule to read this posting. I know how busy you are. Please know that I think you are pretty amazing also! Peace.

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  18. I remember these posts in their entirety, and was drawn to you. Surviving takes inner strength, which you have.

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    1. Dear Susan, yes, I think we are all survivors of so many things. And right now I find myself thinking of the people on the East Coast, especially along the coast line of New Jersey and Staten Island. They came out and voted despite everything. They are survivors and heroic also. Peace.

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  19. You are touching the lives of so many with your words. This is a beautiful post, a sad post, an inspirational post, and a post about learning to love. I didn't know most of this, the pain you have felt. Somehow it all made you who you are and made me love you, made me be sorry I didn't meet you a long time ago, in person. Now all I can do is send you a virtual hug and lots of love.

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    1. Dear Inger, thank you for the virtual hug! I send it back to you ten-fold.

      As I continue telling my stories on this blog, I'll cover much of what this posting relates. But I hope to do so with stories and not by simply telling. I want to show what my life has been. And when all of you whom I read do that I learn so much about the Oneness we share. Peace.

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  20. I am very curious and interested in your second blog, Dee. I must check that out. And I love the story format you've followed, simply because the stories really stick with me. You write so beautifully that they are visually complete. You have had such a remarkable life. To hear that a psychologist has determined that your survival instinct is so strong says two things to me. One, that of course you are amazingly resilient. But two, that to realize that resiliency you've been through such really difficult, trying times. My granddaughter Sophia is five...and to think of leaving her behind in any way or for any reason breaks my heart. There is a part of me that just wants to cry for the Dee who never quite felt complete. I am joyous, yes joyous, that you are not just coming home to yourself, you are growing into yourself--the woman you were always meant to be. Confident and secure that indeed you are enough. I think you have amazing insight into yourself and others, Dee. Just amazing to me that you are so dear! I send a big hug!

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    1. Dear Debra, I hope you do check out my second blog. I post there on Sunday.
      I'm glad that the story format works for you because I find it the easiest way to write. It seems to me that when I write reflections I become somewhat self-indulgent.

      Thank you for your kind words. I suspect strongly that when Mom had to leave me behind to go to Parsons, Kansas, with Dad her heart broke also. It was in writing that story that I realized that. And so the on-line memoir is doing its work of healing me. Peace.

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  21. My life's quest was also to be loved--to be enough. To understand--and, foremost recently, to forgive. Survival was the paramount issue as far back as I can remember. That familiar sense of not trusting the adults--not feeling loved, nurtured, or protected--of being on my own...resonated in your words...your stories. Even though our lives have taken very different pathways I felt an immediate soul-level affinity.

    I think we all seek the same core-level things. But people fill that soul yearning in many, many different ways. Some easily. Some with great difficulty. Many of us never succeed. Some quit trying. We each walk our own path. I am so glad to have met you and that you are sharing yours. You are loved. You are enough. :) :)

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    1. Dear Rita, I, too, feel that affinity as you and I walk on the paths that we've somehow chosen and forged. The comments for this posting are such living proof that all of us journey through a life that is fraught with loneliness and troubles. And yet, somehow, we survive. It's a testament to the human spirit I think. Peace.

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  22. Oh my dearest Dee, as I read your words and look at the photos of yourself at different life stage, I see myself. What a journey life is!! For some easier and others harder.
    Dee I have a confession to make. I have suffered terrible depression for the last few years. It has been a nightmare after I walked away from my marriage of 29yrs. We were together for 35, since I was 11yrs old. I suppose growing up with him, bearing his children, suffering every kind of abuse, I can look back now in hindsight and say,thank you Lord. My strong faith brought me through, and I have wondered at times, for what?? Yet my seemingly strength has produced 4 adult children who also now have that strong faith to survive. Recently on a Saturday night at my son Peter's that depression lifted. It was then that I realised it had been an OPPRESSION.....sent by satan to pull me down. You see in all that time struggling with depression and not admitting to anyone about it, I reached out continually to God, and never let go of my faith in him. Through the years since leaving my marriage home, I committed sin over and over. I did what I hated, and I believe now that I did it in self hatred of myself. We are our own worst enemies... I am so grateful that Jesus died for me.... That I am now, cleansed from my sins and set free. Why did it take me to almost seventy years of age to see that??? Well it was a part of the plan for me. I take great solace in the following reading.
    "For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate me/us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
    Romans 8:38-39
    What a special promise, YES!! Hallelujah.

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    1. Dear Crystal, how hard your life has been. And whether what you have felt and endured and lived with is depression or oppression, your journey has been a difficult one and I am glad to learn that the cloud is lifting for you.

      You know, I think, that you and I are at different places with regard to our religious beliefs. For myself, I believe in the Holy Oneness of All Creation of which you and I and Peter and all those who have raised me and taught me and befriended me are a part. And in that Oneness I wish you strength for the journey. Peace.

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  23. As I wipe the tears from my eyes I want you to know that you are not what happens to you but a kind and compassionate woman inspite of the things you have indured.
    Be well and Happy, Dee

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    1. Dear Pam, one thing that the comments for this posting has shown is that we have all endured hard times. All of us know the bumps and pot holes of the road on which we journey. And yet we reach out, as you have done, to support one another. Peace.

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  24. How can we get to seventy without having experienced plenty of knocks and bruises? If there is such a person he or she is extremely unusual. I wouldn’t even say ‘lucky’, because it takes some living to become a rounded and resilient human being.

    I think I have read this memoir before, but it is as moving the second time as it was the first time.

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    1. Dear Friko, actually this is the first time I've ever posted this particular posting. I have already, however, written stories about much that is in this posting.

      The comments for this post truly reveal that, as you say, all of have "experienced plenty of knocks and bruises." There's a line in a song that goes "Art isn't easy . . ." well life isn't either, as we both know. Peace.

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  25. Dear Dee,
    Your writing is so honest, and sad, yet also so beautiful and inspiring, that together with your pictures it all brought me to tears.

    I know a little bit about Meniere's because one of my brothers-in-law has it.

    I love the song but hadn't heard KD Laing singing it. It's a perfect accompaniment to your memoir.


    You are a survivor and a story-teller. I look forward to reading the rest of your memoir.
    love
    rosie

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    1. Dear Rosie, thanks so much for stopping by and reading this rather melancholy posting. I'm sorry to learn that one of your brothers-in-law has it. The disease can so change one's life. Peace to you now and ever.

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  26. Dee the first time I learned of the poetry of Leonard Cohen was when my girls were about 3 and 5. A super music tape created by a Nancy White was often played in the car. She wanted him to come dance with her while she cleaned house and looked after her kids. Guess it's nice to have fantasies. We all have knocks and huge bumps along that journey of life.
    That we search for validation is likely a part of the human ability to reason. And that we can share our experiences on blogs feeds into the need to be part of a bigger whole. It is such a nice way at our age to share. Years back we would have likely been story tellers in our bigger communities, maybe the wise elders?
    As you find ways to feel unbroken perhaps keep in mind all the Buddy's around us.
    Just to be able to live with his birth family when he was born was a milestone. Down syndrome was considered a curse to families! It was one of those issues linked to a devil and no one wanted to be near a demon. Luckily since has explained the natural cause being an extra chromosome and not an evil spirit. And that has allowed us down a new road. Buddy has had to face many adversities and still does.
    HUGS

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  27. Once again I find myself catching up on blogs...I'm so glad I started so far back on yours, I can't imagine missing what you just wrote. Beautiful!!!

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