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Dianne Schuch - Lindsey

Dianne Schuch - Lindsey
Houston via Kenosha, Wisconsin, Texas, USA
June 21
Friend or Foe...your choice
I am a graduate of the JeJune Institute with a Masters Degree in Pointless Endeavors. I regrettfully copyrighted my work. It isnt copyrighted/ Take what you wish. If I posted it on a public forum, I no longer consider it my own. I should just feel greatful you even want to read it and consider it entertainment or viable information. Enjoy


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AUGUST 16, 2012 6:04AM

Is this a Dream?... IISTG p87

Rate: 14 Flag

This is an absolutely true story Book Index

(click on video to turn off music)

Come away, O human child, to the waters and the wild, with a fairy hand-in-hand. For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand. - 

"The Stolen Child" by William Butler Yeats

"You murderer! "

The young girl lunged at Mary pushing her into the corner of the kitchen.

Mary unaware of what had just occurred pushed the girl away. And then had to absorb the fact something terrible had just happened.


Her oldest son, Joshua had committed suicide only three years earlier at 17 years of age. Justin, just 15 at the time had found his brother hanging by his belt from the pipes in the basement laundry room. He had to call his mom and tell her. He was left alone for a while with his now dead brother and it could only have been a nightmare that no-one, much less a child had to live through.

He seemed to have recovered, I never thought so, but he did, he felt he recovered.

And he had found love.

Susan was a girl of a different caliber than the Schuch family, but we had accepted her because Justin loved her. And there was no doubt she loved him.

She had just left the party where she and Justin had joined their friends swimming, in October…in Wisconsin. An oddity I have never reconciled.

I never got the whole story, I don’t think anyone did. But it seems within a short time after they arrived; Justin had taken to a chaise lounge and fell asleep only to not be able to be awakened a short time later. How Susan determined it was my sister’s doing is beyond me. The girl was in shock, desperate, as if in a dream, young and this was her first love.

I have heard it said and I believe that before anybody makes the journey to the other side, we have to know on a soul level that we are leaving, whether it's an accident, illness, or by our own hand and we prepare ourselves to a certain degree that we won't be there in the future. I wonder what his and Susan’s last conversations were about? 

After Susan's disruptive accusation, this is how my poor sister found out her last and only child was now gone.

It was determined that Justin had taken an overdose of narcotics. Perhaps Susan felt he was slipped a mickey, by his mother? Unlikely. But one had to excuse the supposition, so close to Joshua’s death.

I know Joshua died three years earlier, but these were healthy beautiful happy youngsters in spite of everything, beautiful young men. How can eyes that burn so brightly, suddenly turn so pale? Those were the eyes she saw at the last.

My sister’s family was now erased.

Mel and I went to Kenosha for this funeral still feeling the sting of not being notified of Joshua’s funeral, missing it altogether. In spite of everything that my sister and I had gone through in preceding years, it was put aside as I tried to comfort her. I kept telling her it wasn’t her fault, but in my heart I felt unsettled; children do not die as a rule without a medical problem.

We arrived in town in just enough time to put our things up in the hotel room before we were picked up and brought to the church.

We had come from the mild climate of San Francisco, we didn't even go back home to Houston.  We were not equipped for the weather.  The skies were grey, bleak.  There was a strange light dusting of snow, early in the season and melting before noon, but it was bitter - a high wind in the trees, a cold sound in the air

The funeral was a three ring circus and perhaps it would have been better had we not shown.

My brother Gil found it necessary to walk behind my mother calling her the Idatolla (my mother’s name is Ida and he was referring to the Ayatollah Khomeini.) I tried to silence him, but it is his way to bring bad taste to every situation.

One of Mary’s friends used this as a forum to show off her recent weight loss wearing tight white jeans. My mother asked someone to tell her to go home and change. Even Mary was shocked at her distasteful apparel. White jeans. At a funeral. After Labor Day.

I wasn’t going to do it. The girl then tried to take over showcasing her figure making dramatic sweeping gestures like that chic on Wheel of Fortune. This same girl used the situation to bring Bess, Mary's best friend and Joshua's Godmother, some alleged wedding fupaus to everyone’s attention, she was jealous of Bess’s relationship with Mary.

The funeral director was pregnant.  What kind of funeral home lets a 7 or 8 month pregnant woman direct a child's funeral?  How tasteless is that?  And she was kind of a bitch.

This is to be expected at funerals these days. One of my readers told me that if one wants to see the worst in people, they should work in the funeral industry.

The families of poor Justin were divided in three camps, Justin’s father, Justin’s mother, my sister as well as his girlfriend's family.  And there were a lot of them.  Bless her heart for bringing them, she may have felt she was going to be under attack for accusing my sister of killing Justin. 

I was surprised that Justin’s father even showed. He never treated Justin like his son and had this delusion that he was fathered by someone else, a coworker of his mother from her days as a cook at Houston’s. And the person he believed this was, was also at the funeral. I knew this was untrue as Mary had that affair LONG before she even married Hank. She ended it, one of the things I have always felt she was graceful about. She never let the affair carry on after she met the young man’s wife and child. I do not believe Mary was ever unfaithful to her husband. But she also was close to 400 pounds.  She since has had the surgery.

I spent most of my time with Mary’s best friend Bess’s husband who was the most endearing, quietly helpful young man. He was able to put everything into perspective.

“All of these people are individuals and they have their own interpretation on where they are in Mary’s life. Mary does not have the ability or strength to address any of this.”

In the middle of all of this was Justin. The beautiful child, now just a shell. I touched his cold hard hands and face, I kissed his lips, but they weren’t his because he certainly would have reached up and pulled me close. I half expected this, as if he were pulling a practical joke, and created this circus to see who would show up at his funeral. He needn’t have worried, the church was to overflow with people paying tribute. It seemed his entire senior class had shown.

My mother treated Mel like her own child calling Mel her other daughter. So at least we didn’t have that to contend with. When the Queen mother spoke, all in attendance followed her direction. It was humorous at times. Mel had ordered a Coast Guard Uniform off of EBay because she had gotten rid of her own earlier on, she could no longer fit in it. She stood sentry, dressed like a military guard behind my mother. And people streamed by at first uncomfortable, then accepting of Mel’s presence.

When the pallbearers brought the casket in, there was one young man that stood out. He was extremely nervous, upset in a different way than the rest. I never found out why, but that always sticks in my mind when I picture that day. Who was he? Why was he so distressed? Yes his friend died but this was different. His distress was more fear than sadness. He fidgeted, very nervous, not making eye contact and would look over the congregation as if frightened someone would jump up and attack him.

And my sister.  Inconsolable and truly, there are no words.

After the funeral, Mel and I went back to our hotel room where we laid down to take a nap. I had pain issues then and I was taking some pretty heavy medication. When I awoke, Mel was gone and a note left behind that she didn’t want to wake me. She had gone ahead to my family’s home to meet with everyone else and told me to call as soon as I awoke and she would come back to get me.

What? Why? This was the strangest thing …I was shocked – I called.

“Dianne, your mom needs to get some rest and people are leaving, I’ll come back to the hotel, and I will bring you back here tomorrow.”

I could not believe my ears. Mel and I had been together twelve years at that point…when did I not notice she had an agenda? This was my family. Mel knew I was always hanging on a thread. Mostly because I was used as a pawn and played between them. Now it seems, Mel has joined rank. How could she?

Do I just perceive things differently?

Am I being paranoid?


Blog Directory (also see the links section to the left.)
Page 1 Why did you try to kill yourself
Music: Justin Hayward/Bright Eyes
By the way IISTG means If It Seems Too Good to be True
Yes, this is absolutely positively true. If you lived this wouldn't you write about it? Some of the names of characters in this blog are fictitious. This is an account of actual events. Some of the events have been compiled together for the flow of the story. Even when I read my own work, I wonder how it could be so. But if you study your own life and compartmentalize it into less than 200 pages, you would be surprised how interesting it really is!


TRUTH HAS WITNESSES (Dianne Lindsey) ©
This material is the copyright Dianne Schuch Lindsey and cannot be duplicated in any fashion without the express permission of the Author. All rights reserved ©

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Paranoid? Come on. No. Anything but. You're a keen observer.

Funerals are very strange affairs. They often become a stage for players who make believe they are in mourning when in fact they came to be seen and to mingle with relatives that they care nothing about but feel obliged to please.
This reinforces my own decision not to have a funeral. I have left instructions with my wife to burn the body and scatter the ashes but under no circumstances is she to have a family gathering.
You Spent Time With Beth's husband.
. . . put everything into Perspective . . .

How do you get into such Predicaments?
How You get music to happen. Harmonious.
Melody. Wind moves green leaves. Brilliant.
Let's not Dream Mitt & Paul blacktop Garden.
I worry Michelle Obama's Garden will be paved?
Secret Service (Maybe?) Will Wear Overall Bibs.
Homeland Security (Cops?) get installed Sirens.
Sirens Will Imitate Red Rooster Crows? Owls?
The FBI cars will sound like savage seagulls?
Seagulls yell loud when they are preying.
I agree with Davis McClain. I No View!
I mean?
I have seen Radiant ` Last Breath.
I watched `Horrible ` Last Gasps.
I want to be `Peaceful` Ay Alone.
Mice, ants, gnats, maggots . . .

They can recycle body form.
Immortality is in elements.
Elements can be recycles.

I have no control over death.
I would prefer to rest in pines.
Nova Scotia has Beautiful Pines.
They have Mosquitoes that Sting.

I reread
I fatigue
sip beets

Juice Beets.
Face Get Red.
Death Visits.
Be Alive . . .
No blood scenes.
Die with placid smile.
I have been to many funerals and most of them don't involve theatrics, at least not intentional ones. I am, of course, curious what happens next. You are the best at putting cliffhangers in parts of your life story.

This is sad and fascinating at the same time. It's a little like watching a soap.

Perils of Dianne.

I keep wanting to shout at the screen "No! Don't do that!" or "Watch out!" like a little kid watching a movie who doesn't understand that the actors can't hear him.

What's truly amazing is that you pull this off with non-fiction.
What is it about funerals and even weddings, that brings out the worst in some folks? Too much theater, emotion, fancy clothes and a weird display of rich food and excess. While sad, this displays the many characters of the human condition and the discomfort so many feel over life, death and the mortality that hangs in the balance.
Your perception may be cluttered with some logic; otherwise, there is no paranoia. R
I find it really difficult to read with bad music playing. Is it just me or do others feel this way?
Protocol so far says I should address each of you individually.
Personally, I see this as a way to inflate the popularity of the site, but at the same time, you are all important and yes...perhaps I need to not be so cynical. So here it goes:
You deserve a prize for ALWAYS being the first one to read and comment.

Ithink we are all paranoid in a way
What a horrible thing for you to go through Dianne. I can't imagine the loss of two beautiful young men, especially so needlessly. Once again I've escaped pain or loss with my father's death. If it had been someone who meant much to me I'd be shattered. I planned my own funeral years ago and there will be no announcement other than legal notice. The funeral director has been instructed that it's private and by invitation only. I have list and when new people come into my life and I become close to them, I update it. If I can choose who I want at a wedding, I can choose who I want at my funeral. There are too many people who love me and I don't want them hurt by self-centered antics, I already know who those people are. That is my last wish so it's in writing. That will be the last thing I can do in return for those who have treated me well.
Sorry to be so slow in catching up from the babysitting. I'm glad you're here with us, wish the subjects were happier.
OK... this is nonsense:

I am going to address each one of you one comment.

Ande And David
I agree. I have yet to go to a funeral where someone isn't grandstanding. I plan on having my body donated to science. And I am counting on everyone here to help with that.
Should you hear I have passed, go to Jerry's JFUS Salon page, or use the link on the left...and HOLLAR LOUDLY.



I get so excited when I see you have been here. Of course I get excited when ANYONE comes, but you put so much into what you say and write.

Just lovely

I am so happy to read that my writing is getting the very effect I hoped for.
What I find amazing is as I write, I cannot believe it myself. How can anyone go through all of this and not be wacko? I used to sit back and say 'Why Me???"
I now know why.

For everybody's entertainment.

You said exactly what I wish I would have.
I forgot to tell of the unbelievable combinations of bolgna with cream cheese next to the caviar. And of course the caviar had a big sign saying:

"With all our love, the most snotty and overbearing people here"

Of course, they had their names instead of the discourse I have added.

Is that a new Moniker...the real Cathy?


Paranoia is a word I use often for fear that things may actually be happening.

You wake up in a hotel room, it's dark, no-one is there and there is a letter that your gay lover is at your homophobic family's house celebrating the loss of a loved young nephew.
The word paranoia is a safeguard for the obvious

And John...

where would this be with at least one person complaining of the music. If you read my bio, it says you will hear music.

I do not erase comments unless they are from my children (not going to get into a wrangle in comments when there is a phone).

You have options, just as you do on other sites that autoplays. You use the cursor on your slide bar on the right. Go down to the video and pause it.

Or simply use you little speaker icon next to your time and date on the bottom right and mute it.

If there were no options to turn it off, I would not have it on.

I would put the video on the top of the post so you could do it automatically, but then every time you came to my site about 20 different songs would burst forth. (Salon shows the very top of our last 20 or so posts). I work very hard to find the right music. Hours. I cannot please everyone. It is like watching a movie. Do you get angry when music plays in a movie?'s the Moody Blues. Who doesn't like the Moody Blues?

The question is, did you enjoy the read?

Thank you to ALL


I didn't see your comment until I finished the last response.

Your plan should be protocol. Celebrities have funeral by invitation and Europeans have always followed that custom.

Did you know people actually crash funerals? Especially ones in a church because of the food.

I am glad to hear you recovered from your week with Kamal. Isn't she just the sweetest dear....again I have the image of her with her little arms folded because you wouldn't swim with her.

That black and white from Shady Lanes is magnificent. She is truly an adorable child. And has an adorable grandmom.

Love to all


I didn't see your comment until I finished the last response.

Your plan should be protocol. Celebrities have funeral by invitation and Europeans have always followed that custom.

Did you know people actually crash funerals? Especially ones in a church because of the food.

I am glad to hear you recovered from your week with Kamal. Isn't she just the sweetest dear....again I have the image of her with her little arms folded because you wouldn't swim with her.

That black and white from Shady Lanes is magnificent. She is truly an adorable child. And has an adorable grandmom.

Love to all

Dianne, I must tell you, that your blog is trully one of the most unique here in OS. On the first click, and I start to read listening to the music. I think it would just be great if I could hear your voice reading this intense and full of feelings work. It could end to be an audible book... Think about it, just record your reading, and maybe through Utube, you can have the code, so as for all of us to hear you. Rated!!!!
I have changed all the posts to the REAL names of the people, i.e.Willie is no Mel, Mandee is now Candee,