The Anniversary of Edison’s Death

People say, “you still thinking about that dog?” How insensitive. But I understand, perhaps …
Some people have never lost a daughter to schitzophrenia and bipolar and hallucinations that i am some kind of monster, and to make it worse, she’s married to a man who advocates this, and keeps her dillusions alive, for his control.
In my sorrow, I replaced my emotional loss with a loving little 3mo old tiny Yorkie pet, who at the time, fit into my hand. He was a sickly little fellow, and oh so tiny. They told me he would never get more than 4 lbs. 
I made him as healthy as I could. He lived for 12 years, was 6 lbs, and of course began to show signs of what I was told may happen: he had a prolapsed trachea, common in those types of breeds. In other words, he was suffocating to death.
I know he longed to stay with me. I could tell by the looks he gave me while trying to breathe. He could no longer sleep lying down, thus, could no longer sleep. Within 3 days, he was standing and stumbling, while I carried him as much as possible, but even that was not comfortable for him.
Yet, still:  my daughter remains alienated to me for 15 years now.
Edison could finally not get air, and I  had to….I was forced, even by the veternary doctor, to put him down, he was suffering.
When he died it was like I lost my daughter again. But worse: I lost my most treasured friend, who was with me at my business office since he was a tiny shoebox baby. He was evidently tied to that entire time in my life, I did not know it then, and I did not know it even when he died… But I know it now. He was  my only connection to the healing of that time… The wound of his departure does not seem to heal, and I cannot–nor will I, forget him…
I still have his partner, I call her, his “wife,” lol! It’s kind of hard to explain. I love her, and I love my two cats, all of my pets: I love them very much. But Edison was the first pet I had afterI lost my daughter, and I gave him the love and care I wished I could give her, and I was rewarded by his very loving loyalty.
I will NEVER forget my little man, Edison… It will be one year in February 10th…I will never forget him, and I pray almost every single day, that God would allow our pets to be in heaven, because I am looking forward to holding him and seeing him again.

Awake, New Year!



I wrote this poem in 2015, when we left the year before (2014), but it stands on its own, for every year, so hope you enjoy this little bit of my pensive self.

Awake, New Year!

By Lydia Nolan

© December 25, 2015


When I encounter dreams, I wish, that had come true,

I know that they first started in my everlasting heart.

And brand new Hope brings Joy that hoping does impart.

And then, y’know, our Dreams don’t sleep away,

The hoard of heaven brings boiling, Hope’s fresh brew …


Forgive the hurts, repair our souls, and never fall apart,

I hold the good, and learn from it, that I must clearly bend

Give free my love and never hate, and always do append

The best of all; the truth in me, the only Me, I know.

While visiting old dreams, the dreams that groan to start…



So, Come, New Year! Give us good cheer to every living friend,

I look upon the end of last year’s chapter as I ponder.

No dream does die, we only send it to our hearts to wander

And rest our heads in pillows, and the Dreams which I intend,

Brings New hope in the night, as New Year starts again.



Welcome 2018, I think…

Welcome 2018

by Lydia Nolan

Well…so… the new year has begun, and if what’s happened so far is any indication of what’s coming, I had better take cover and plan a strategy for survival.

First of all, I was fine all year until the day before New Year’s Eve. I caught that awful flu that turns into bronchitis, and if one is not careful, it can turn into pneumonia.

That was the beginning.

Then as I lay dying and coughing painfully, I tried to allay my desperation by reading. I read Vanity Fair, an article about all these TECHIE people, whose view of the world is sick, for they seem to think it really is their oyster because they are making so much money hand over fist. You would have to read the article yourself, to get equally as disgusted and angry.


Earlier, before the flu, my beautiful iphone 6Plus died. I had to get another one. I did not even get the top of the line, and it cost me over $500! But what are we going to do, we’ve got to have a phone, and there is virtually NO MORE telephone company for regular phone service.

 I mean…LOOK AT ALL THOSE PHONES. THEY ARE HEADING IN PRICE WELL OVER $1000!  WHY do we need so much on our phone, just to amuse ourselves?

I have been feeling betrayed for a long time now, and I’m not talking about my love life. I am talking about in general as one of the masses.

I love the movie, “The Fisher King.” There is one line I really took to heart. It was when Jeff Bridges had realized his role in the murder of many people and three years later he appears to be a drunk.

A child gives him a little Pinnochio doll, and he begins to talk to it. He says, [drunk and talking to the Pinocchio doll] “You ever read any Nietzsche? Nietzsche says there’s two kinds of people in the world: people who are destined for greatness like Walt Disney… and Hitler. Then there’s the rest of us, he called us “the bungled and the botched.” We get teased. We sometimes get close to greatness, but we never get there. We’re the expendable masses. We get pushed in front of trains, take poison aspirin… get gunned down in Dairy Queens.”

Nietzsche’s observation struck me when I read the Vanity Fair article, and for some reason I really began to feel duped about how the world is playing out. Especially when I know how difficult it has been for me to attain my goals because I am too busy acquiring student loans (but no job), and paying my respects to Verizon, IPhone’s thief mob, MAC, and all the other techies that are creating great wealth on our backs, as we toil further and further into the ground.

I don’t know what to do about it. But for starters i want to get rid of all my websites, social media connection, apps, and whatever follows.

I don’t mind being called “backward,” because backing out of this joke of a techniclly advanced life is not, and never has been meant for my wealth or health, but for the few who know how to manipulate “the masses.”

So welcome 2018, ,maybe it’s time for Silicon valley and all those techie sleaze bags to get foreclosures on their homes and become homeless; let them know what other people go through while they are having their sickening sleaze lives. This is my rant for the month. Enjoy it. Read Vanity Fair this month.