Glassford Hill.

Apparently that is the name of my "mountain". Its pretty much the mountain that in in-between Prescott and Prescott Valley. Our apartment is on top of it. The apartments and the Kia dealership are pretty much the only things on it. The past few times we have driven past it on our way home we have seen antelope on it. We can see the whole valley from it. It is quiet, and beautiful and safe.

I took the kids to school this morning. I looked at the schools. Really looked at them. They are so nice. The kids are good there. I keep thinking about what the schools look like back in Phoenix. There is no comparison. These schools are surrounded by mountains, and flowers, and clean air, and beautiful views, and are such nice schools.

I took a little drive. There are so many beautiful places up here. Its so hard to think about picking one place to live. Its just a beautiful, wonderful place to have a family in. No more traffic, or trashy places, or broken down neighborhood, or crime. No more heat. The people are nicer here. Its just a wonderful place. I don't think I can take my children away from here. I think about spending the holidays here. I think about the apartment. I love my new place.

Last night the girls told me they don't want to move, and they don't want to move back to Phoenix. I know Tyler doesn't want to. They have already made friends here, and they told me they love the apartment and their room. And I think about raising the little ones here, Ryan and Cheyenne, this is really all they will remember. That would be a good thing.

I listen to that song alot. Hate me. Blue October. The words seem to set me straight. I usually get very used to a song after I listen to it alot, and it therefore fails to have the same effect on me. But this one is different. Everytime I hear the words, they cut. Still.

There's a burning in my pride,
a nervous bleeding in my brain
An ounce of peace is all I want for you.
will you never call again?
And will you never say that you love me
just to put it in my face?
And will you never try to reach me?
it is I that wanted space

Hate me today, Hate me tomorrow, Hate me for all the things I didn’t do for you

The song shook me before my dad was even sick. Now there are new meanings, with the old ones. It always hits me so hard. I was listening to it this morning while I was driving around.

The funny thing is, all this happened, all I've written about here, before I read any of your comments. I came home this morning, and logged on and read them.

It did occur to me that maybe my mom doesn't WANT us living behind her again. Maybe she wants her space, her privacy. Maybe she doesn't want kids over there all the time. We can't ever seem to be around each other for any amount of time without fighting. Neither of us needs that.

Its the simple things, sometimes, that speak to me. The other day we were there for just the day. Royce went over to the house to fix windows, the kids went to kirk's, and the little ones stayed and played, and I slept - I had worked the night before. At 6 pm a movie came on the tv. It is one I have wanted to see for a long time. "Under the Tuscan Sun". A beautiful, spiritual movie about a soul that finds its place. Unexpectedly. All my mom did during this movie was to keep asking me how I could sit for hours and watch a movie. Don't I have things to do? Don't I need to get back up the mountain and get the kids ready for school? How could I just sit and waste time? I sat. And I watched it in its entirety. With kids interruption, with mom's interruptions, with noise in the house. And I liked it very much.

I think I do know in my heart what I need to do. CreativeSoul, I thought about what you said. If she isn't asking me to come back, maybe I am just doing it for me. Maybe I do just need to breathe.............breathe. I very much appreciate your comments, CreativeSoul and Trailady. I think maybe I am jumping because of the emotionally charged situation. And my children need to come first. I think I already know what I need to do. Thank you, all of you, Shelli and Creativesoul and Trailady, for all of your comments. I have read and reread them, and am keeping your words inside me.

I think we are staying.

Trailady, I don't know what to think about life after death. I know what I was raised to believe, but I have a hard time thinking I will ever see my dad again. He is gone. I can't believe in something simply because it comforts me. I can't form a belief system to live by because the unknown is unacceptable. Because it makes me feel better. It has to be more real to me than that. Thank you for your words. I have found myself thinking more about god since my dad's death. I have never let go of the thought that he exists. I just don't feel he is what I was taught he is. I would love to believe that I will see my dad again. But I don't think I will.

I made an arrangement with God a few weeks ago. I agreed to keep talking to him. In the midst of everything else I do, or believe, or experiment with, or try, or how deep I go. I told him I would make a deal. I would keep talking to him. Whether he is really there, or listens is the 500 question, now isn't it?