Hurricane Helene

 I have not written here in quite sometime, but I never forget this space. A place where I am free to be me and I truly write for myself. This morning I woke after a day of working and not knowing what was happening outside because the storm shutters were closed at my work, so it was like night all day long. The storm I speak of is Helene. She will go down in the archives of Florida storms that changed lives forever. There was water last night in places that have never seen water so high and winds higher than most have seen in quite some time. 

I worked all day yesterday and when it was time to leave I prayed everything would be ok on my short drive home. Winds at over 50 miles per hour, but strangely very little rain. This huge storm Helene just 90 miles away in the Gulf of Mexico and as she moved from the Yucatan Peninsula Wednesday organizing and gathering her strength. She twirled her dress around her in a counterclockwise spin. Dresses like that you just don't know how wide they are.  I am sure she didn't know how far-reaching her bands would cause havoc. 

In 24 hours she (Helene) traveled 650 miles from Cancun, Mexico to Perry, Fl. I have not watched the news but that area will feel the brunt of her rath. The girl probably didn't know her own strength she was so disorganized a week ago not sure she would ever leave the Mexican coast but here she made it across the Gulf gathering herself together and pushing onshore. She pushed water all along the Florida coast into places that hadn't seen water this high before. 

This is where I get to the point. I walked into the living room last night with the winds whipping outside at 50-80 miles per hour and everything blowing around and my husband was watching football on tv. That wasn't the crazy part for a Thursday night in football season that is normal but thinking about the wind outside and the water rising in not far away places to the point that people are trapped in their homes they thought they would be safe in. The thought was surreal. The world out there beyond Helene's reaches was just cruising along. People went out to eat and to the movies across the country as Floridians sat hunkered down.

The sound of a fire truck just stopped me and made me check the Active Calls website for 911 in Pinellas County. It is 5 am as I checked the police site first and a bunch of Traffic Control calls for lights out on the street but the county site shocked me usually it would be medical issues but this morning structure fires. There are currently 10 burning within the county. I am sure mostly transformers blowing or power lines down causing them but that is a lot with over 80 vehicles responding. That will stretch thin an already tired bunch of men and women. And another fire truck just passed by.

All of this has made me think of the people in war-torn parts of the world who are just trying to survive the day and wish for normalcy of work and days off. Not afraid to walk down the street or get on a bus. We so take for granted the luxury of the normalcy we have on most days. We go to the store and there is food on the shelves and at the gas station we can fill up our cars. There is no smell of smoke or bombs. There aren't buildings collapsed that were standing yesterday but here today, I feel for those people. Those I don't know. Those I can't see. I feel their pain. Their true need for normalcy in their lives. I also feel for those less far away along the Gulf Coast. People who have never had water in their houses now wonder when it will recede. 

The worries in my life that some days are debilitating and are mostly just life's ups and downs. I struggle with them trying to control the outcome. Sometimes I need to just ride the wave and things will work out. 

I am not sure there is a moral to the story. Just be kind. You never know what others are struggling with. You don't know their pain and they certainly don't know yours. Show empathy for someone experiencing something you can't imagine. For one day you may wish for theirs.

Amen. Please be careful out there.

New Beginnings

 It has been a while maybe too long since I wrote here regularly. For the last few years it has been one thing or another. A project for the museum, or a new display. During the pandemic I wrote daily and the time that followed I worked on compiling those daily posts into a book. That book I completed last night. The book itself has been done for a year. I have spent the last year battling formatting and trying to get it just the way I wanted it. Each time I thought I am going to just pay someone to do whatever it that needs to be done. I would hunker down and research the problem and I would figure out a way to do it myself. I can't say it will be perfection. I can only say it is truly a work of passion and resilience. This morning I ordered my proof paperback copy after working for a short time last night on finishing touches. Now I will move on to the next phase sharing that book with the rest of the world.

"New beginnings are usually scary" said Sandra Bullock in Hope Floats. "Endings are usually sad." "But it is the middle that is important." Well I guess I am at the new beginnings stage. I have been wallowing through endings are sad, and have been for months. It has just felt like an endless stream of sadness. 

I don't' want to be sad but our pretty girl Princess passed away in May. My girl. She spoke to us in bow- wow-wow voice. She would look at me with her cloudy cataract ridden eyes but that isn't what I saw. I saw a young girl who fought like hell to not be left behind. When she found us at the SPCA they told us she has been returned 3 times. I almost felt like they were either trying to talk us out of her but at the same time they were like you can take her home today. We had a 17 year old cat at home and they said just don't write that down. We went into a small pen with her and Brian got down on the floor and she played with him licked his face and when she was done she came over and sat on top of my feet. My pretty girl had won my heart with one fell swoop. 

She was 3 years old, 50 pound, black Shar pei mix, her little ears folded over on themselves and her tail curled up over her body and she wagged it when she was happy. That was all the time except when she was guarding me. We took her to obedience classes and we couldn't be at the same end of the room as the rest of the class. They called her reactive. We tried to do the exercise where we walk her on a leash between other dogs but that wasn't going to happen with out a lot of barking and pulling and scaring the daylights out of everyone in the room except for us. Years later we came across a lady that was a volunteer from that class at the park and she couldn't believe it was the same girl. She still pulled and barked but we learned how to distract her from whatever was too close and we  moved on. 

Now I am trying to do the same thing. Move on. Brian has been ready for another dog since the day she passed. But me I look at a dog or a picture of one and want to cry. The tears are hard to see through right now. I can make many similarities between Princess and Kody (our first dog). Medium size black dogs that wagged their tails. Each with their own issues. Kody had seizures his whole life. Princess had a reaction to the sun and heat. If she got too hot she would get welts all across her body and her face would swell up. She would truly look like a Shar pei then. Many trips to the emergency vet and a boat load of Benadryl. One day we figured out what was causing it and after that we could at least know what her exposure was and if a pill would do it or if we needed her to get a shot. She didn't fuss or cry she was a good girl as long as there was no other dogs in the vet. We would usually just ask to be put in a room so she didn't upset the others.

Since Princess had her reaction with the heat we would move her bed away from the fireplace in the winter so she wouldn't get too warm. One time Brian pulled her bed away and as he walks away she gets up and grabs the corner and pulls it back closer to the fireplace. The girl was no dummy. She knew just where she wanted to be.

Three days after Kody passed the day before my birthday in 2009 we made a trip to the emergency room for me. My first panic attack. I returned to the ER two more times in a week. After that I had to find a resolution to my panic. I met a beautiful soul of a counselor and after listening to me she gave me an assignment. Go home and write a letter to Kody and tell him everything you want to say. I sat down a few days later home alone and hand wrote 11 pages of memories and wishes and all that poured out of my soul for the Best Dog (what we called Kody). The first time I wanted to call Princess the Best Dog, I told her you are the best girl dog. I knew it would take a while before Kody would give up that name.

So as the time has passed since I last saw Princess pretty face. I have thought about that exercise of writing about what I missed but the feelings have been so raw I haven't been able to do that. As she was aging I was already mourning. I mourned what I had, what I was losing. We accommodated every need of hers as any good pet owner would. Couldn't jump on the bed cleared off the bench at the end of the bed for her to use as a step up. Couldn't make that jump we called it spotting her. We would spot her to make sure she got all the way up on the bed. Never would I have let her believe she wasn't the strongest dog in the world. Thinking about her jumping up, her favorite place to watch the world go by was the wooden trunk under our front window. She would jump up there and watch people, dogs & cats even the bunny rabbits in the front yard. She barked to let us know what was there. We would commend her on her watchful eye and tell her thank you pretty girl for letting us know. This was another thing that slowly slipped away. she stopped jumping up and she would bark from the ground, just knowing something was out there. It would make me sad. Knowing she couldn't do her thing. Towards the end she would be laying on the floor or the couch and barely lift her head and let out a single bark and put her head back down. But we knew what she was saying. 

The best Princess story at the front window was when she was young we would have K-9 police officers bring their dogs to our street. They would hide something and have the dogs look for it. One afternoon they were running the dog down the street and the German Sheppard stopped in front of our house made his way around our front yard the whole time Princess is warning him not to come a step closer to her house. He actually stopped and looked up at her then continued until he found the contraband. After that the police officer without his dog came up to our door and knocked. As he stood at the bottom of the step he realized he was looking in the eyes of the dog that was doing all the barking. When we opened the door he was surprised to find our pretty girl standing on top of the trunk barking in his face now that the door was open. He said I just wanted to meet the dog that made my dog stop working. LOL. I don't think they did that in front our house anymore.

As Princess was getting older she didn't want to eat dry food so I cooked chicken and rice for her just like I had Kody. One thing about dogs with seizures the medicine kills their liver. But we were able to help by feeding fresh food. Princess she loved scrambled eggs or anything on my plate. Just like with Kody I knew one day I would cry that I got the last bite of my own food. But my pretty girl would gobble up what ever I had made so fast I would say she couldn't even taste it. 

Princess was good with children and older people. When my nieces and nephew were young we could sit on the floor and as long as they weren't trying to eat we would be ok. If they were eating Princess would often deem them too slow and take the food out of their hands. She didn't understand why the kids would hold the food so long and the kids didn't know why Princess was eating their food. As for older people after my mother's stroke she stayed at our house for a few weeks. Princess was her companion. She went everywhere mom went. Mom would open the back door to smoke and let Princess out. Princess would come in for her treat. Mom couldn't go down the steps but I didn't like her smoking in the house so this was her compromise until there was someone to help her down the steps.

When we had Kody we had taken him on a few trips to North Carolina with us but Princess always stayed with one of my sisters. We did take her camping the first time we took out the RV. She was really good and sat on the bench in the back while we drove. She slept on the small bed with us at night. She loved the outdoors but it rained that weekend so we went for a few walks but spent most of our time inside. She was just a happy girl. she loved being with us. 

So many memories flood my brain. The time after Hurricane Irma we had no power after 5 days my first day off. I took her to Chick fil-a and drove through got me a sandwich and her some nuggets. We sat in the car at a park with the air running in the shade to cool off and eat our food. When we got home I was going to hose her down and when I went in the house to get on a bathing suit the power came on. Thank God. Not soon after that our fence was still down after the storm and she got stuck on her side with a board and had to have staples in her side. She didn't cry or whimper we didn't even know she was hurt until Brian went to pet her and he stuck his finger in the hole. No cone for the pretty girl though the vet tech suggested since it was going to be weeks with the staples to get her a t-shirt and tie a knot in the back to cover her side. She never messed with it at all. 

Speaking of Princess getting hurt about 3 weeks after those staples came out our girl was chasing a cat through the back yard, not our cat. Just one passing through the wrong yard. The cat went over the picnic table we had and Princess tried to go under. She ended up cutting a V shaped section out of her scalp. Don't know if they counted how many stiches that took but our regular vet was like you are going to have to take her somewhere else. The poor girl with her head split open and they couldn't stich her. Emergency vet here we come again. We were like really we just got done paying for the last emergency vet trip. And one more.  Another time she got into a scuffle with a opossum. The opossum scratched her eye lid she had to have 15 stiches.  Who would know we live just a block from the busiest street in our area. 

My pretty girl we could go on and on with memories and funny stories of things that you did. When you were a bad girl and when you were the best girl. When you were my pretty princess. I miss you everyday. 

Excerpt from a poem She is Gone by David Harkins

You can shed tears that she is gone
Or you can smile because she has lived

Your heart can be empty because you can’t see her
Or you can be full of the love that you shared

You can remember her and only that she is gone
Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on

Thank you for the years of good times and good memories. The memories will live on as long as I do.

 

Life is Short

 Life is short they say. I am now at the age where I am realizing just how short. I have daily reminders and that makes me feel sad, and sometimes the sadness lingers from one sad thing to the next. Another reminder the loss of another friend. 

I know everyone my age loses people and some they have known for years and are close to and sometimes they seem to come just a bit too close together. My most recent loss was that of a boss. A lady that some might have said was hard to work for but I would say she was tough but fair. When you work for someone like that the expectations aren't high just for the sake of it. Her expectations were high for her own work and she only expected you to set the bar high for yourself. If not she would show you where you fell short. Not in a way that made me feel bad, but in a way that I believed I could be better. She was a get to the office early and stay til everyone was gone. Her desk always had a pile of work on it. If not hers someone else's work she was checking. 

This person I considered a friend she came to our wedding. But in the years that have passed since we left Eckerd we have only exchanged Christmas cards and run into each other at a restaurant or art show. Always saying we will get together soon. I do regret us not getting together more but like most people who were good influences on me I thought of her often and what she would do. 

I don't ever recall her yelling or raising her voice. It was not necessary. Just an explanation of how your work could be better or more accurate. 

The loss of a mentor or sensei (a person that comes before another) is one I seem to struggle more with. A person I have learned so much from, she probably wouldn't want me to go on about her.  I know I am not alone in my respect for her and her guidance. Even though it has been years since I shared things with her early in the morning before work. Crying over something I had no control over, she would not placate me or promise things would be better but that I would get through the struggle and at times share her own similar struggle with me. 

I learned from her how to be the best me that I could be. Today I share my struggles with younger people so they know it will not be easy but they to can get through it (whatever it may be). Sometimes knowing someone got to the other side of a struggle makes me believe I can get there myself.

My yearly trips with my nieces and nephews is a direct reflection of how she taught by doing. Spending time with those younger than her that meant so much to her. 

So here is to the one that came before me. One of the ones who would have done anything for me. 

She will be missed.

Always in my heart!

Family Strength

 For those looking for a story, I thought of one the other day and don't think it has been shared here before. 

I would say I was in the 7th grade and I had this great English teacher Mrs. Klickyn I know I am spelling her name wrong and will look it up and correct it once the sun comes up. LOL. She was one of the best teachers I ever had. Anyway, we had to write a story about learning a lesson. I went home and was telling my parents and my dad who wasn't usually the first to help with homework said he knew a story I could write. As he told the story and I listened I didn't recall the incident that he was talking about but I have told the story so many times since I can see it happen in my head as I tell it.

My father told me that he and I were walking along a sidewalk, I was small maybe 2 years old. As we walked I tripped and fell and my father stood by me waiting for me to get up. These two ladies walking in the opposite direction approached and said to him, aren't you going to help her. My father responded I will not always be here to pick her up but I will be here to make sure she gets up on her own. 

That is it. That is the story and the lesson. Short and concise. Dad as a rule didn't pick us up when we fell or fell short of anything. He was there if we needed him but for the most part, he just stood by for us to be strong enough to get up on our own. 

Some might think this a sad story of a father not sweeping up his little girl and comforting her. But at my age now and maybe even back then I know I am stronger because of that very reason. My father passed away in 2021 as I stood in the church with my brother and sisters and all our friends and family this story came to mind. Dad had stood by us long enough for us to be strong enough to stand on our own. 

I didn't know the last time I saw him it would be the very last. I thought we would meet a few months later for our birthdays, but that was not what fate had in store. So for those that don't know my father passed away in Anchorage, Alaska in the hospital not from Covid but from complications due to having it. 

When I fall or falter and get back up I know it is because of the way we were raised that I am the person I am and I will get back up. 

Dawn of The Pandemic release

 So, it has been a while since I wrote anything here. Since the last time, I have written a book, Dawn of The Pandemic. The ebook was released earlier this month. I am still working on getting the formatting right for the print book. 

Here is the cover. It is available on Amazon. I am trying to figure out all the ins and outs of being a writer, publisher and chief cook and bottle washer. Makes me spread kinda thin.

The book is about my Pandemic experience. I walked each morning to see the colors of the sky and for a few minutes each day to get out of the house and out of my head. I also wrote what was going on with the Pandemic outside of our house, statistics and how relative it was to me. As I say on the back cover while I was marking time I didn't realize time would never be the same. 

I am working on a couple other projects now, a history book and the history is told by some of the oldest trees. And another memoir type about growing up on Clearwater Beach. I have about 7 chapters of that written. Whenever a story comes to me I write it down. 

Enjoy Dawn of The Pandemic.

The Man and his Legacy

 Last night I found out that one of my favorite people in the world passed away on my birthday earlier this year. This is one of those people that made a difference in my life. A store manager I worked for at Eckerd. It is funny how I worked at one store for a long time had 4 different managers. But once I became a Service Assistant which was a key carrying cashier that could open and close the store. I moved around to many different stores in the area and learned to work with all kinds of different people. As a rule it always seemed like I was in a particular store between 8 months and a couple years and by then usually ready to move on. I can name the stores I worked by location by store numbers by store managers. I can tell stories about customers and employees at each one. I can tell you lessons I learned at each place. 

Store #7 on Missouri and Rosery. I already knew when I got there that a store is a family. One more dysfunctional than the next. At this store I was about 25 years old. The man that was the manager there a silver haired soft spoken man named Andy. He was one of those people that you rarely saw get mad and things seemed to roll off of him. He ran a neat and organized store. I think he had been in the Navy when he was younger. His wife Comfy always stopping by dropping off lunch for someone. I can remember Andy calling me one late afternoon. "Jeanne, I left my sandwich in the refrigerator. Please eat it." These were little things. Who knows I might not have had any money and he intentionally left it or it could have just been an accident but he really never made the people that worked for him feel poorly about themselves and he certainly wouldn't have let one of them go without anything they needed. 

I learned working with him that sometimes there are people in the world you have to help them improve themselves without making them feel like there was anything wrong with them. We had quite a few young people that worked in the afternoon and weekends. They were all like his children. There was one that would call out because he didn't have a ride to work. So, instead of leaving him to sit home. Andy or Comfy would go pick him up and bring him to work. Not having a ride wasn't going to get you out of work. It also saved me from being short handed. I would take that same kid home at night after work. I got to where if Andy wasn't there I to would go pick him up. We had a young girl that worked there. She was in her late teens. I remember when she came in and told me she was pregnant. Again, just like my own child I would feed her and make sure she had whatever she needed. There was a young man that worked in the pharmacy and he had long hair and at that time Eckerd was a fairly conservative company to work for. Guys with long hair weren't easily accepted by upper management. But instead of telling the kid to cut his hair, when we had store visits. Andy would send him on lunch or send him to Publix. I can remember going outside and finding him sitting on the bench in the shopping plaza and letting him know all clear. He could come back to work. An earring or long hair didn't make you a bad person or a bad employee. Just made you different.

Andy and Comfy welcomed their dysfunctional family into their own. I took their daughter and son's wedding pictures. I know some of the young people that worked at the store lived in their upstairs apartment. This was a family I wanted to be a part of. When I was at this store was the time when I had first started seeing Brian and five years later, Andy and Comfy were at our wedding. 

I was thinking today that it was about 27 years ago when I worked for him. I realized that he was probably about my age when now when I worked for him. His silver hair made him seem older but I would guess in his 50s at that time. Amazing how time changes my perspective. Back then I was the young Assistant trying to learn my way and he seemed to be the Jedi Master with all the answers. He always made me feel like whatever was wrong could be fixed. Maybe it was a jack of all trades kind of thing. Whatever you needed he seemed to have the answer or a solution and if he didn't well his sure footed wife Comfy certainly did. 

Now all these years later still a part of my Eckerd Family but a regular part of my life. A sure thing that the first Christmas card received each and every year is going to be from Andy and Comfy including family pictures. We had a Eckerd get together at my house maybe five or so years ago. I remember it being so important to me that Andy and Comfy were able to come. I always felt like if I needed something really if I needed anything and I called this wonderful couple they would be able to help me. I don't know that I learned to be selfless from them but I most definitely honed my skills of selflessness and giving while working for him.

I knew he had cancer. Like I said, these are people I think of all the time. The kind you know are always there. I am so sorry for Comfy and her children's loss. Really the whole world lost a really great guy on my birthday this year. But God now has a really great angel. Andy you will be missed.

Hello God, It is me...

 The other day I read an article about a phone booth at the Burning Man event in Nevada that had a sign out that said talk to God. The person wrote that people were waiting in line. Reading that it instantly brought tears to my eyes. What would I say? The first thing that came to mind is how is mom? I continued reading the article and the person wrote that he had serious questions for God. Like is the Bible truly Your words? I have thought about that before. Back in the day when it was being written not many people could read or write. Scholars and Monks. Maybe one of them sat down one night with a pen and vellum (they didn't have paper) and wrote a story about the time of Jesus and the creation of the world. So, I find that a valid question. My other thought is do you talk or do you listen. Do I want to tell God what is bothering me today? In theory he already knows so then maybe I should just listen to what he/she has to tell me. Maybe Jeanne, you don't need to worry so much about things. Somethings are going to happen and worrying or not is not going to change the outcome. Seems like really good advice.

The more I read I found that people are lined up to talk to God in a phone booth but in this day there are less and less going to church. So do people feel that a phone booth is just as likely a place to talk to God as any. One thing I have said about myself for quite sometime is that I am not religious but I am faithful. I believe there is a God. I don't even know if believe is the right word. I know there is a God. There has to be. No matter your belief in how the world started weather Adam & Eve or a big bang. All the creatures of the world and the stars and planets. There had to be a power that created it all be it in 7 days or in an instant. Imagine all the things in my body that it takes to type these words. My brain thinks them, sends a message to my fingers which know where the keys are in the dark to type them and my eyes are able to read them on the screen and back to my brain that understands that my words can be understood. 

As I read the first article, I kept thinking who is God. A shrink, a priest, someone with some ability to council. Someone who knows who has had one too many and who is very serious in their purpose or pursuit of God. 

The second article I read was different. I learned that not only can you wait in line to talk to God from the phone booth that when you pick up the receiver that a light shines straight up to the heavens. There is also a place not far away that there is another phone and if you find that phone. You can be God. Now, I feel that we are unstable ground and the more I read the more I knew that this could be a person calling asking God for prayers for a mother or child that is sick but it also could be a person crying for help. This such situation happened to the person who was God. The person said something about thinking about doing something they had tried before but not been successful at. My first thought was Lord Help him he is talking suicide. I am not sure if the person on the phone was thinking that instantly. They asked will doing this thing make you happy and the person in the phone booth said yes. The person playing God said, you should do what makes you happy. I don't think that is totally true number one. Suicide is a long term solution to a short term problem and you don't know that the thing that will make one person happy will not hurt another. How could you imagine death could make you happy. See, now Jeanne is thinking I don't like this. I don't like it at all. The more I read of the second article the more I learned that not only is there the God person on the phone there are others sitting around listening to a speaker able to hear the person on the phone in the  confessional of a phone booth as well as the God person's responses. Since all stories don't have happy endings. That year at Burning Man someone did commit suicide. I don't know if it was the person in the phone booth or not. I learned that the person playing God felt strongly enough they weren't sure if they would return or ever play God again. Back in their real life they took a class at work and the person giving the class was talking about such a situation and said, if someone is talking like that you have to ask directly "Are you thinking about suicide." Even reading the words seemed harsh to me but if the person is truly thinking that way they need help from someone who isn't playing God. Someone who has real experience with dealing with whatever the underlying issues are that has gotten this person to this place.

During this pandemic I know that some people find solace in being home. Feeling safe. Others feel isolated. I am going to say I have felt both. I am not and never have thought of suicide. Just to be clear for those that are worrying about me taking this line of thought this far in the middle of the night. I want to live and I want to be happy and have no interest in hurting myself or others. I said once in a post that my pendulum of happiness is just weighted to the sad side sometimes. The last few days I have felt that weight. I don't know if it is literally the extra pounds of being home all the time. I have thought about it and other than going to work I thought I was home a lot before. But being at home all the time at first I thought this gives me time to be productive at home. That time I would be driving to and from work. I could clean something, sort something, throw out something. That feeling didn't last long. Then my drive home as Brian called it I would lay down and read my book and decompress from work for 30 minutes and then do whatever it is I do. Cook dinner, wash dishes, take out the trash, do laundry. You know all those things. 

I really never liked the idea of working at home. I felt like there would be no separation. I had to walk past my work computer to get to this one to write this post. I have to push the chair out of the way to open our front door if someone comes over. On the other hand taking a shower and putting on a pair of shorts and a shirt and walking across the house is a nice commute. Not wearing shoes is an excellent benefit which out weighs jeans day which our company doesn't do anyway. So there are plusses and minuses. 

Yesterday however I really could have used being around other people. I was in a worrying state. Monkey brain they like to call it. When your brain just jumps from one thing to another. I used a breathing exercise and I reached out to a friend at work through instant message instead of walking over to her desk on my break and crying and telling her I hate that I worry. But luckily she was able to make me laugh through an instant message. And for a few moments we talked about unrelated things and my mind got back to where I needed it to be and I was able to continue on with my day. And made it. 

I think part of my problem is Social Media the constant bombing of the left and right telling me why they believe what they believe and why Mo or Jo should be President. The news of all these hurricanes battering the Gulf coast. This pandemic we have been living through. So here I am at 6am. My thought was I wanted to get to the part where I asked God if the library in heaven was as big as the sky and can I read any book and when I am done come back and get another. Can I spend my day floating on a cloud next to an ocean or a swimming pool. I know everyone talks about the food but I just need to know there is peace.

 I really just don't want to worry. Thanks for listening God.