Versions of Chai

This is the story of how the Word of God literally saved my life and I found the end of a rainbow.   It is a story of deliverance from suicidal thoughts.   I have felt God leading me to share this testimony for quite a while, but with everything that has happened over the past couple of years, I haven’t been able to write it all down until now.   I also had to first tell my family about this struggle before sharing it publicly and this was very difficult for me, especially telling my husband.   My hope is that this testimony will help someone else find their own way out of the darkness. Although depression has been something I have struggled with pretty much my entire life, it was not until after the loss of our daughter Alison (stillborn at 21 weeks), that I began to think of suicide.  The emotional pain was so intense I did not think I could bear it.  Friends and family were supportive while I was grieving, but I couldn’t tell them just how bad things rea...

Today I stopped by my favorite coffee shop for a final treat before beginning the Whole 30, a diet which I am forlornly referring to as "30 days without cheese" (and a long list of other things).  Instead of one drink of the week, they had two:  Dark Side and Light Side lattes.  Although this is no doubt in celebration of the long-anticipated release of a certain movie, I thought it was the perfect summation of what 2015 has been for me. So many tragic events have happened around the world and closer to home.  I have had tough parenting moments and difficult situations at work.  Yet, I've also seen instances of love, kindness, generosity, and courage.  These points of light shine through the darkness and give me hope.  Most notably, this is the first year I have not worried about whether our children would be ours forever.  The adoption was final in December 2014 and it is as if they were "born from my own body."  We thank God every night for...

2013 was a year of achievement for me.  February saw the publication of my debut chapbook, Fertility Rites, by Finishing Line Press.  Needless to say this was a dream come true.  In October, I ran in my first half marathon (more on that later).  And in December, my eleven-year journey toward a bachelor's degree finally came to an end and I proudly walked across the stage with the words summa cum laude ringing in my ears. But 2013 was also a year of adversity and probably one of the most difficult years of my life.  It was our first full year as foster parents, an experience that has tested me in ways I never expected.  Of course, it has brought joy to my life as well, but I'm not going to sugarcoat it.  (If you have read much of my work, you will know I'm honest).  There were many days I did not think I would survive the strain of parenting, working full-time, and going to school part-time.  Those were the days that required much in the way o...

After 15 months, I can say with authority that parenthood is not for the faint of heart. I can't count the number of times I have asked the question, "What have I done?" But thankfully, I inherited a mixture of courage and tenacity that keeps me going through the tough times. I now know that those people who talk of parenthood like it is some idyllic paradise are either editing, lying, or so sleep-deprived that their memory is on the blink. Parenthood is hard. It is no joke. It changes everything about your life. But there are moments that make all the tough times totally worth it. When I walk through the door and two kids fling their arms around my legs shouting, "Mommy's home! Mommy's home!" Or when a little girl snuggles in my arms. (Just a couple of examples). So needless to say, I have had good reason to neglect my blog. But hopefully, I am mastering the art of multi-tasking and can get back to posting regularly. To summarize the last...

Lisa Karon Richardson and I met in college and have been friends ever since.  She is now a published author and mainly writes historical fiction.  Her most recent publication is one of four novellas in a collection entitled Colonial Courtships .  Her novel, The Magistrate's Folly , is being published by Harlequin and will release in early 2013.  Another novella and first book in a series are planned for release next fall.  Lisa has earned a reputation for meticulous research and I know from personal experience that this reputation is well-deserved. During our freshman year of college, student access to computers was limited to a few decrepit machines in the library which made typing papers a challenge.  With the ink barely dry on my office assistant certification from vocational school, I proudly (and naively) offered to type both Lisa and Rick's research papers for Missions class.  Of course, I procrastinated until the night before they were due, bu...

Thanks to my good friend and fellow writer, Lisa Karon Richardson, I am a guest blogger today on www.inkwellinspirations.com and have a post there promoting Fertility Rites.  Today's Versions of Chai post is intended to be additional content to the Inkwell one, so if you haven't already read it, I suggest going to Inkwell Inspirations first. To explain why I considered the bluet a sign from God that I was going to survive my loss, I need to give some background on this tiny wildflower.  Bluets, or Houstonia caerulea, prefer somewhat rocky soil and tend to grow at the edge of wooded areas.  They are plentiful in the part of southeastern Kentucky where I grew up.  Something about these flowers always intrigued me.  As a kid, I thought they were forget-me-nots.  I later discovered this was not the case, but could not find out what they were called.  I used to carry one around with me, pressed in a notebook, so I could ask plant enthusiast...

Advance sales have officially started for my poetry chapbook and the front cover image has been loaded on the site!  Here is a direct link to where you can preorder a copy that will ship in February:  https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product_info.php?cPath=4&products_id=1533&osCsid=8470o7bhvcpq0un3mn5vpbhnp5 .  The number of preorders directly affects how large the total print run will be.  My goal is to have 105 preorders so the total print run can be 500.  Please spread the word! www.ramonecologne.co As I mentioned in my last post, I would like to honor some of the people who have supported me with this project.  First and foremost is my husband, Rick McGee.  For the two of us, it was a case of love at first word and 17 years later, the words are still flowing.  But enough about that....  Rick is a renaissance man who has many talents in addition to writing.  A few of these artistic talents are showcased in a comic...

Since my last post, life has been a whirlwind.  I know my blog has been pretty much silent for the last year.  Part of that time, I was in the dark room being developed, but several months ago, I emerged into a life that is colorful once again.  So many things have happened this year:  I ran a 5k, became a mother to two foster children, and of course, my long-time dream of publication is now coming true. Amidst all the spinning plates, I somehow managed to meet my contract deadline and the publication of Fertility Rites is on track.  Advance sales officially start on Monday, October 22nd; however, the chapbook is already available for preorder at www.finishinglinepress.com .  Just click on "Preorder Forthcoming Titles" on the right-hand side of the page.  The books are listed alphabetically by title and Fertility Rites is listed on the second page.  Preordered copies of the book are supposed to ship on February 1st.  Unfortunately, they d...

I am pleased to announce that Fertility Rites has been accepted for publication with Finishing Line Press!  At this point, I am still waiting on the official contract and publication timeline, but I hope to post more information soon.

One of the things I have learned in the process of healing after the loss of my daughter is to let go of some of my anger.  When I look around and see irresponsible people having children that they end up neglecting or mistreating, it is easy for me to get angry.  It seems so unfair that these people should have children while I do not.  Why this happens is one of the questions I have asked God several times over the last year and a half.  Then a few months ago God answered with a question of His own.  Could I honestly say that I wish any child had not been born?   Or would not be born?  Of course, my answer to this was no and it made me realize I had been looking at things the wrong way.  Instead of focusing on how unworthy or undeserving I thought the parents were, I needed to accept that God must want those children to be born, that their lives may have a higher purpose.  I thought of all the people who began in adverse circumstances that ...

During a recent visit to Half Price Books, I discovered one of the treasures I had been searching for:  The Wolfpen Poems by James Still.  For those unfamiliar with his work, James Still was an Appalachian author and a part of the Southern literary renaissance that began during the Great Depression.  He is most well-known for his novel, River of Earth , which has been classed with Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath as one of the best representations of Depression-era life.  However, he was also an exceptional poet.  When I was in Junior High, he visited my school and shared some of his work.  His presentation made an impression on me and may very well have been one of the influences that sparked my own interest in writing poetry. In reading his poems, I feel such a kinship with him.  His words echo some of the cries of my heart, yet in a richness that I could never express.  It is difficult to choose my favorites from among his poems, but at the mome...

Only in the darkroom is the promise of color in the negative fulfilled. Yet, we resist development preferring the negative state tucked in the protective sleeve of muted possibilities.

Anyone with a dream will have at least one critic in their lives--one voice that always has something negative to say.  Those who have aspirations in the creative arts will usually have more than one, maybe even many.  Although critics can sometimes be constructive, this poem is about a destructive one.  I wrote this poem a few years ago and those who read my original blog on My Space may remember it.  It is not autobiographical, just an expansion on a theme.  As of yet, I haven't experienced criticism to this magnitude. Unless I include myself, for I am my own worst critic. The Critic So quiet at the end I thought you dead. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw your mouth curve into smirk and knew words would soon follow, bruising self respect. Deceived I was to imagine you passive while I relished in success, forgetting the scent of accomplishment would resurrect in an instant your critic soul. So now I quail under your scrutiny and br...

Today is Memorial Day and in a little while I will be arranging flowers on my daughter's grave. It's rather late in the season for white tulips so instead, I bought some tiny, white chrysanthemums. Last year, finding white tulips was sheer luck. They were languishing in a crowded barrel--a sad little bunch with the leaves already turning brown. But the waxy, white flowers seemed to speak to me in a way that the other, more brightly-colored choices did not. Perhaps this is because our lives are like canvases colored by the things we experience and my daughter's life ended before her canvas could be fully formed--when it was still a waxy whiteness without the color and messiness of life. Although they are not waxy, this year's chrysanthemums are a comparable substitute. They are not the full explosions of chrysanthemums we will see in the fall, but mere buds with the centers still green and a hint of white petals around the edges.

Since I am in the process of revising my chapbook to submit to a contest sponsored by Finishing Line Press, I have decided not to post the remaining 5 poems. For my faithful blog readers, I want to save a few surprises as I hope Fertility Rites will eventually be published. So far the revision is going well. This is mostly due to a valuable critique from my friend, Julie Hensley, who has a poetry chapbook coming out in July through Finishing Line entitled The Language of Horses . To pre-order a copy go to http://www.finishinglinepress.com/NewReleasesandForthcomingTitles.htm. However, it would be a shame not to post a poem so by special request I am re-posting the one for which my blog is named. It all began a few years ago at Live Wire coffeehouse when three friends each ordered different versions of chai....... Versions of Chai Cup in hand, I contemplate the versions of chai while the musician plays my request, the one about the girl and the poem-- her smooth facade. My version is ho...

Just like the Fates, Demeter and Persephone also hail from Greek mythology. Demeter is the goddess of the harvest and Persephone, her daughter represents spring. Persephone was very beautiful and her beauty attracted Hades, the god of the underworld. After a series of events involving abduction and a few pomegranate seeds, Persephone is doomed to spend half a year in the underworld. During the six months that Persephone is gone, Demeter mourns her daughter's absence and the earth experiences fall and winter. This poem is about that absence and how Demeter feels when her daughter is away. It is written in the form of a sonnet using a Spenserian rhyming scheme and iambic tetrameter instead of the more traditional pentameter.

This is another poem that I feel needs some work. In fact, I wish I could skip it, but I am committed to posting each poem in its unrevised glory. The poem is based on the idea that the way to immortality, to the fountain of youth, is through having children. Of course, I don't think I am the first person to suggest this connection. I think the concept here is good, but the poem needs to be whittled down and sweetened.

Of the times I was able to hear my daughter's heartbeat, a couple of them were via a doppler instrument at the doctor's office. The heartbeat is not as clear with this method as with an ultrasound and it can be difficult for them to "find" the baby's heartbeat. Sometimes when they were searching, we could hear my heartbeat instead. Mine was much louder and slower than the baby's quick heartbeat. After coming home from the hospital, I thought of the connection between our two heartbeats as a kind of duet. Even though the beats were different, they were making music together. With her gone, this connection was severed and my heart went back to singing solo. In this poem, I use some musical terminology that everyone may not understand so I am including a small glossary at the end. Glossary of Musical Terms Adagio : slow and restful. Allegro : lively and fast. Alto : lowest of the female voices. Cadence : sequence of chords/sounds that brings an end to a m...

I tried to experiment with a few different types of poetry in the chapbook. This one is my first attempt at a prose poem. I'm not sure if it meets all the requirements or not. Maybe it's just a plain paragraph. Regardless, it is written to my daughter.

Last spring was very difficult for me. Having just lost my baby, it was painful to watch nature blossom all around me. I wrote this poem during that time to describe how I felt. Normally, I enjoy the colorful signs of spring and the thawing of winter's cold. But if the seasons had matched my feelings, last winter would have been very long indeed. I am happy to say that this year I am back to enjoying the signs of spring and very glad that winter is finally over. Of course, my enjoyment is bittersweet because the memories from last year will always be with me, but each flowering tree teaches me to hope. Winter will not last forever. Spring will come again.