Careers And Stuff

women who think too much's avatarWomen Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie

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First, who I am not.
I am not an actress or a model. I don’t have big boobs or a tiny waist. I do not have enough hair to make a pony-tail. I do not have a book on the NY Times bestseller’s list. (Yet.)

I will never win the Nobel Peace Prize or invent a cure for alcoholism or mental illness, although my family would benefit and it would be a fine start toward world peace.

I do write women’s humor, which doesn’t pay, and I spent five years covering drag racing events, a job that did pay. I also took pictures at the racetracks, had a picture make the magazine cover and I sold my action shots to racers, so I suppose that makes me a professional photographer, although I still claim amateur status. I’ve won literary awards for my essays and my checking account is usually empty.

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Light

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In the very midst of my black despair
God’s hope and love shines through.
Peeking around the corner
poking through the trees
the light calls to me…
come out, come out…
we want to play with you.
Black despair tells me…
You stay put. This is where you belong!
Yet the light’s beacons are stronger.
I stumble back to the lights.
Black despair is full of lies
and I am seeking truth.
I won’t give up.
I won’t give in.
I will continue to fight.

October Blues

 

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October blues appear out of sync amidst the brilliant reds and golds
watching the leaves change as this heart remains heavy and cold.
Fiery burning colors, so bright they make my head spin
while my eyes smile at the show, my heart refuses to join in.
This time last year, snapping pictures with childlike abandon
dashing from tree to tree from river to mountain to canyon.
That child has been banished, her spirit broken and blue
running from memories that whisper; girl, it was never true.

Jeanne Marie, 2016

And wishes for all…

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Moments…

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Go Ahead

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A Poem From My Sister Cherie

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What’s Your Heaven?

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Mine would be working in the nursery with the babies and the little ones, rocking them all night until the sun came up…
Having my morning coffee with my children and my grandchildren, hoping that they would know by the breeze that ruffled their hair that I was close by.
Visiting my sisters, dropping in on my friends, blessing them with rain drops and rainbows. Checking in on my honey at bedtime, to tuck him in and make sure that he is doing okay.
Wandering through fields and fields and fields of flowers, while the sun played
peek-a-boo with the clouds.
Standing underneath a summer rain, dancing and swaying to the rhythm of the raindrops.
Taking naps on the clouds, sculpturing them into beautiful sights to behold.  Angels and puppies and babies, oh my!
And one thing you can be sure of, there would always be music in my ears.
I would sing and my voice would be that of an Angel. I would sing all day and nobody would tell me to be quiet.
I would be dancing in the sky whenever my loved ones looked up and I would be beside them giving spirit hugs whenever they fell down.
I would surround my loved ones with a pink bubble of love and a yellow bubble of happy.
I would cheer for their wins and comfort their pain.
I would be the butterfly that kissed their cheeks.
I would be the spring dandelion that catches their eyes.
I would just be. Me.
What’s your heaven?

Dear God,

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God is…

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Hanging on to a rainbow…

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Blowing Away

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dancing in sunshine

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Brave

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When nights are long…

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Every time I see your face…

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I Smile BiG 💕💕

Thank you JM for always reminding me to think Pink! XOXO MM

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Pink Faith believes no matter what

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Pink Faith believes no matter what

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The world needs more PINK THERAPY — thinkingpinkx2

Time and Distance

 

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I remember the pain I felt the first time I realized that my mom had grown older.
My heart broke that day, as I realized how frail the strongest woman in my life had become just since our last visit.
Today, at a newly turned 63, I fly to see my middle child, Jodie Lynne and she hasn’t seen me for two years.
I look good from 1800 miles away with the perfect lighting and a smart phone pose, but up close…
It will be the first time that she will realize that her mother is older. Much.
Human, not a super woman who can save the day…
Well, usually, I just mess up whom ever I’m trying to save, so that might be a good thing, LOL.
But she’s not going to like her mom’s newly acquired wrinkles.
It’s almost like the stamp of an expiration date upon my face and neck.
Not now, the wrinkles whisper, yet their very existence shouts out the reality that time is more valuable, limited.
My baby sister swears that I still look 17, so maybe Jodie Lynne will be wearing the same love shield.
I hope so, because no woman should ever have to watch her mom grow old.

P.S. We had an incredible visit. She kept telling me that I was “so little” but that’s another story.

People want what they want

Thank you Michelle Marie, I love this…

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People want what they want And if love is involved things will end up as they should–

photo by Jeanne Marie. She loves to share her flower photos with me. She said since I couldn’t get out to take my own she would share hers with me. Thank you JM💕💕

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Diamonds in the Rough

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I arrived in Muskogee last night  (August 22) at the Diamonds in the Rough sober living house to visit my daughter.
I was overwhelmed by the spirit of happiness and love that abounded in spite of the fact that each girl is still overcoming her demons.
We went to a church meeting and as the music was playing, I turned to my daughter and as we hugged, I felt God flow through both of us and I realized like never before that every miracle I have ever prayed for that girl has been granted.
She is alive and she is on the road to recovery.
The road to recovery is a long twisting road with many detours and problems.
It’s not a picnic. I know, because I’ve been sober for over 30 years.
I was overcome as I held her and she held me. All that we have been through with each other in our lives with men and with our addictions almost made sense and I truly felt the spirit of God as His precious grace flowed through us.

Jodie Lynne and Me

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August 23, 2016

I sat on the front porch of a sober-living house this morning, doing morning group meditation with amens for everyone and everything.
I was surrounded by grateful, sober-living women. I am so proud of each one of these miracle walkers.
As I sat there today, I was reliving throwing my hands up to the sky in complete surrender and handing my daughter to God, so many times, but most of all of the day I started to plan her funeral as she lay unconscious in a bathtub in a dope house, 2,000 miles away, being held under the water in an attempt to either kill her or to revive her from an overdose.
That day, I wept with earth shattering grief as I felt the extreme reality of the pain that her loss would deliver.
And still…I was afraid that he would not save her anymore, because of all the miracles that he had already delivered to her and to me, but God does not give up, he does not falter, he does not say, “Oh no, my child! You blew it last time!”
My heart was so heavy and for the very first time, I was afraid to ask for yet another miracle, but I stuffed my pride and on my knees, I raised my hands to him.
“Not my daughter, not my daughter,” I sobbed.
I asked, I begged and I pleaded, sending my legions of angels to lift her from the tub.
Called my sisters so that they could send out their angels and prayers too.
God was waiting patiently for the exact moment to lift my daughter from the water, to fill her lungs with air, to stand her on her feet, to restore her life, to teach her how to walk again.
The same way I taught her to walk when she was a year old, one step at a time.
I could not save her but he could and he did.
I am extremely grateful for my daughter’s life, for the fact that she is one of these sober-living women, so very grateful for her sobriety, so very grateful that I dragged up the strength and the courage to hand it to him once more when all I wanted to do was jump on a plane and race to save her.
She would have been dead before I could have even packed a suitcase.
I am so very proud of you my daughter for grabbing on to his hands as he lifted you from the water and for holding on to his miracle with all your might.
So very grateful for the woman who obeyed God’s call to open sober-living homes and walked into the prison a few weeks later and shouted, “Where is Jodie Tiger?”
The very next day, she took my daughter’s hand (with the judge’s permission) and led Jodie to this sober-living house.
Thank you God, from the depths of this mother’s heart and God, I pray that you have a blessed day today too.
Love, Jeanne Marie

Wrinkles and such…

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My hands grow old
my legs do not
between a girl and
old woman I am caught.
My antique mirror is kind
The selfie pics a fright
My wrinkles will haunt
my dreamscapes tonight.
Just last year, wrinkles?
None. Lost thirty pounds
and crap, the damn
wrinkles, they did come.
Let this be a lesson
to all you over 60 ladies,
no extreme weight loss or
your face will fall to hades.

Every time a flower dies…a butterfly cries.

Pink dreams…

Love this collection…

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