Sharing something personal

I am not sure how to start. Sometimes I realize things I deal with in my head I don't always deal with out with the rest of the world. Today one of those items came up.  As a 20 something I had yet to find the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with and when I married at 31 I thought now is the time. Brian and I had been together for 5 years at that point and it was time we have a family of our own. Well surprise, surprise, surprise. It doesn't actually work that way. Of course not. Now I know some people put the kid before the marriage, or maybe the kid didn't come from the person you were meant to spend the rest of your life with, or you came along after the kid and you welcome that child as though they were your own. I know people that fall into all of these situations. They all ended up with something I did not. A family of my own.

Yes, I know Brian has always been mine to raise. And yes, I have always had plenty of other people relying on me to take care of them. But you know whenever I hear the good news that someone is going to have a baby it has almost always been a bitter sweet moment for me. I really am happy for you and your new bundle of joy. But there is a part of me that is so sad that it is hard for me to put into words. I have a tendency to say something that is taken wrong and well then no one is happy with me. 

When my oldest niece was born I learned to crochet so that I could make a baby afghan for her. She was born just a few years after my Grandma Helen had passed away and grandma had always crocheted. She was literally crocheting when she passed away. My youngest sister has the afghan she was working on and until riddled with termites I had the chair that she crocheted in. Grandma after making afghans for her sixteen grandchildren then her children she made them for preemie babies at the hospital along with booties and hats. A friend of mine taught me to crochet a trick in itself, because I am left-handed and for a rightie to teach me I had to learn by facing her so it was like learning through a mirror. That started a life long tradition of me making afghans for everyone I know that has a baby or a grand baby. 

I have had a few opportunities to be included more than your average in the process for some friends. I had a friend that had two kids before getting remarried about the same time Brian and I got married. She got pregnant and she had some unusual complications along the way but she and I talked on the phone while she was having contractions early and bored in the hospital. Her daughter is going to graduate from high school this year. What a beauty. I did not see that little girl often but I was always the one who would play Barbie with her or whatever else she wanted to do. Soccer games and all.  As she got older she was less excited to see me show up but to this day I want to spend time with her when I am at their house. 

When two of my sisters were pregnant we spent time together preparing the babies room. We shopped for materials and cut and sewed curtains and bed bumpers and sheets and blankets in whatever color they desired. Those were some really fun memories. Winnie the Pooh and Flower power and even sports for my nephew. 

But each time someone would tell me they were with child again I step back and reflect on all the experiences I never had. I know there are plenty of parents that would love the freedom I have and to them their hum drum daily grind are the magic I regret not having. 

I have come across a few women that for one reason or another like I never had children of their own. Both of these women I would say are two of the most successful women that I know. I know I have gone to both of them in tears and they have shared similar feelings. And I am sure that my melancholy personality doesn't help with the sadness. Both these women I respect so much. One I can tell you has always treated her nieces as though they were as good as her own. And I have always tried to do the same with my nieces and nephews. I would want them to know they could always come to me. 

I love being their aunt. It is definitely a job I was cut out for. The last couple years I have taken the younger ones on short little trips trying to expose them to things they may not have had a chance to do with their parents. A little nature, a little history and definitely a little fun. But as the kids get older they to will slip away. My oldest nephew will be 30 this year. How can that be? But he has grown into a great adult just like his sister. Everyone finds their own way in life and these kids are now adults and finding their own. But as they slip away into their own lives I am reminded again that my life didn't work out the way I expected. I always counted on having kids that was going to be the thing that was going to get me to lose weight chasing around kids. Well now I just get tired trying to keep up with my nieces and nephew.  I have nieces and a nephew on Brian's side of the family as well and they are now all adults and don't get to see them often but they are also finding their own way for their own lives. 

As I get older so do my friends. Now my friend's kids are getting married or starting families of their own. And now my friends are becoming grandmothers and  again I am reminded of my down falls. I still make afghan blankets for these peoples children and yet when I go to the baby shower. It is hard for me. When the baby comes I am happy for you and proud of you as you find your way to raise your own child but know that my tears are not disappointment but pure sadness for myself. 

I am looking forward to being the best aunt ever for the rest of my life and for multiple generations.

So if you are fortunate enough to be my niece or nephew. Whether I see you regularly or not please know that I am always here for you. And would do anything I can to help you. All you have to do is ask. I love each and every one of you if I don't get to see you or talk to you all the time. Know right now I am thinking of you.

Farewell Charles Osgood, Enjoy Retirement.

This morning was the last Sunday Morning that Charles Osgood will be on CBS Sunday Morning.

Charles has been the anchor of the program for the last 22 years. I have enjoyed this show for most of my life. Mom would call and say, "turn on Sunday Morning you have to see the next story." Well in more recent years there were times that I have called her and said to turn on the show. Ironically Brian's parents also enjoy a Sunday Morning with Charles Osgood. Through the years deciding weather to go to church or watch Sunday Morning is a hard choice. But thanks to the dvr and replays later in the day you can now do both.

Still I enjoy it the most to get up and have breakfast with Charles. Prior to Charles Osgood was Charles Kuralt. I loved Charles Kuralt for his "On the Road" segments. He even wrote books about traveling the back roads of the country. I can still hear his voice in my head. Such a resounding voice. I am so jealous of all the places he has been and spending enough time in a place to get to meet a local or two and share their story. Which years later another journalist Steve Hartman, who also does a segment on Sunday Morning called "On the Road". Steve also had a segment  "Everyone has a Story", he decided where he would go by throwing a dart at a map at the end of each weeks segment and that would be the town he would go to the following week. He would then go to a pay phone booth and open the book and randomly select a name. He would interview this random person and tell their story. I thought how inspiring. If you only take the time to sit down and learn about a person you will walk away a better person.

Back to Sunday Morning. News, Weather, Art, Theater. It is like opening up the New York Times Sunday edition and reading the whole thing. When I worked at Eckerd back in the day we sold the Sunday edition and we would get it in two segments and I loved to read through the Art and Entertainment.

So if you watch the show you would know that Charles Osgood was know for his snappy bow tie and clever wit. He always had a song to sing and rhyme for the time. So when I heard he was leaving I thought I would take a stab at his wit and write a poem that would truly fit. I emailed it to CBS and watched his final show but no they didn't use my rhyme so I thought I can share it on my own.

So Hail and Farewell to Charles.

Many Sunday’s we have spent together.

You sharing the news and the weather.

Wearing a bow tie each week.

Me sitting by listening to every word you speak.

Introducing all of the segments.

 Along with their correspondents.

I can hear you say their names aloud.

Hartman, Giles or even Geist.

On the Trail or On the Road.

A pause for a Passage or Remembrance.

Postcards from Oklahoma to China.

Or an update from Our Man in Paris.

Music and Movie reviews from David Edelstein.

Or a Commentary from Ben Stein.

Review the Calendar for the week to come.

Entire issues dedicated to Technology and Money

Or Architecture, Design and Fashion.

What is next on Face the Nation.

Last but not least the Moment of Nature.

Scenic wonder from anywhere at all.

Showing us the beauty of summer, winter or fall.

Thank you Charles for all our Sunday Mornings.

I have always enjoyed the show.

And in closing, I will continue to see you on the Radio.

The last few months

Over the last few months I have stopped and started more posts than I have probably started and stopped in the entire life of me writing this blog. Most of the time when I write it is a one and done. But lately I can't put the thoughts together the way they normally flow so I stop and think I will finish that thought tomorrow but the next time I sit down to write the thoughts don't fit or I can't finish so I start again and again and again. So after talking to a friend today at work I thought maybe I would combine them into one post and share some of what I have been going through. I was telling this friend at work about the other night when I was looking over a dining room table full of measuring cups that my sisters pulled down from the top cabinet and washed and sat out for us to decide which we wanted to keep and which we were going to part with. While this was going on I kept looking at the table overwhelmed with memories. My sister Beth said what is the matter, do you want them boxed up, do want the table cleaned off before we leave. I just kept looking at the sea of measuring cups. I decided to share what I was going through. I picked up a thick glass measuring cup and said, "mom used to use this measuring cup to measure powdered laundry detergent when we were kids." I picked up a pitcher and said, "mom used to make Donald Duck frozen orange juice in the pitcher." My mom would save bacon fat in the refrigerator in a one cup measuring cup. These are not memories I think about everyday. These are memories that came flooding back when I saw the measuring cups. My friend at work thought it was great that I have memories attached to the items but by seeing the items it brought back all these memories. There was a set of holiday glasses from Long John Silver from back in the 1990's. I asked Beth if she knew why mom saved them. She said, "I know it has something to do with me but I don't know." I first said that they were from Long John Silvers and mom knew that when Beth met her husband when he worked there. So my mom thought it would remind them of when they first met. They were washed and Beth took them home.

4/20/16 Four days before mom's birthday.
So this is a quick start after watching the end of the movie Wild and a shower so it is kind of a before the hot water runs out and before I have to go to work. I have been reading Ernest Hemingway's A Moveable Feast, a book about his youthful years in Paris writing and living this poor Parisian life but rich with friends and living. And then over the last few days I have watched the movie Wild. I had to break it in half because I started to late one night to watch the whole thing but I found that the movie was based on a book written by a woman Cheryl Strayed. Over the last few days I have read about her because seeing the movie which is based on a portion of her life after her mother died and she decided to walk the Pacific Crest Trail. Something both her and Hemingway say is that they have to work to write. She thought she had something in her and thought it would write itself and Hemingway speaks of how he has to train to write. Which is what made me decide I had to write even if I only have 20 minutes. I will finish tonight. But just like walking a trail or writing a novel you must walk. Put one foot in front of the other. And even if I only can take 5 steps and have to go to work at least I walked those 5 steps and I will take 5 more tonight and it may take a long time but if I don't start I can never finish.

I also realized this morning after the movie that her loosing her mother and I losing mine is not the same. She was much younger and her mom was my age. Her mom thought she had so much more life and always looked at the positive side of whatever happened. She was happy she came out on the other side.

4/22/16 Two days before mom's birthday.
Today I did some things that I have been promising myself that I would do and now they are done. I don't feel relieved or that a burden has been lifted. I still feel the same. I have more tasks just like this that I am going to have to do and I don't think they are going to make me feel better either. I don't really know what will. But on the way down to the beach today I was listening to the radio and heard the song "Landslide" by Stevie Nicks. It was an acoustic version but the words made me cry. People see me in the car and think there is that lady crying again in her car.

But at the beginning Stevie Nicks says something like this is for you Dad. Which made me think what I was about to do. This is for you mom. Hope I am doing the right thing. So the song talks about a child handling the changes in their life, Life is always changing. I feel like once I get through a change the next one is lining up to wack me in the back of the head. I question my ability to handle all of the changes in my life. I see people with bigger problems and wonder why can't I handle my issues as well as they do their's? Why is everything such a big deal to me? Why can't I shake some of these things off and move on?

And then the next line of the song says it all, " I've built my life around you." I see everything I have ever done for my mom, all the doctor appointments, all the trips to the bank to the grocery store. All the times she asked me to be the grown up when I wasn't and all the times as an adult that I have just wanted to crawl into a cave or walk away from whatever trouble that I didn't want to deal with or felt I can't handle. Maybe part of it was facing that one day I would be facing just this. Her death and whatever comes next. Do I want to be like her after her mother died? Do I want to sit in the house and smoke cigarettes and drink coke and fade away? Deny that there is anything wrong and hope it will get better by seeing a doctor but changing nothing. In someways that is exactly what I do. I want to lose weight but I make minimal changes and then cry that they don't make a major difference. Is that my landslide? I see the scene of I "climb the mountain and turn around". Do you see my reflection in the snow covered hill, well the landslide brought me down. When I heard that part I see her walking away and turning back for one last look but I can't bring her back down. Not even a Landslide can bring her back down. And which her do I get the sick bedridden mom or the one that still has a chance to make a change. Maybe that is what I cry for I need to make the change. I need to do it and no one else can. Maybe I only cry because mom is gone but I cry for myself because if I don't change will the landslide bring me down.

4/30/16 A little break from all the sadness.
Today Brian and I attended the second game in round two of the Lightning playoffs against the New York Islanders. For future readers the Lightning won, 4-1. We sat in the 5th row on the goal end that the Lightning defend twice, thanks to Brian's friend Arnold who had to work. The excitement of a live hockey game is amazing and I think even if you don't know much about hockey you could enjoy a live game.

Maybe a week or so ago I was on my way to work and heard a Lightning commercial on the radio and thought, they have the best advertising gimmick ever. The Lightning ask the listener to "Be the Thunder". You can't have Lightning without Thunder and no Thunder without the Lightning. Great game and a great afternoon.

5/27/16 Take a break.
A little rest for the weary is always good so one week of vacation down. Visited the In-laws and enjoyed some nice cool weather. Road a train and took a bus tour. Listened to some folk music and some poetry. Even read out loud a few things I have written. Enjoyed all of it.

Really enjoyed the folk music by a guy named David Wiseman. He is very clever. Or maybe I just think so because I get his sense of humor. He said during his performance the three cords and the truth will get you a good folk song. Well from what I could tell he has a good thing going. He sang words that made you listen because he was telling you a tale. It may not have been his story but it was a good story none the less.

So then that same evening I went along with Brian and his parents to hear a open mic poetry reading. I told the lady that owned the tea shop that I liked to write and she encouraged me to come back and bring something to share. Well I took two things. The poem I wrote For the Love of Lilly and A Day at the Beach with Mom something I wrote while sitting with mom. Very nervously I signed up and one by one I heard people read and recite poetry that they had written. I am not sure why the world enjoys watching CNN because listening to these people brought tears to my eyes it was so beautiful. I can't understand why people don't look for that beauty. It is out there.

7/5/16 One step forward a few years back. 
A busy day off today. I took a step. A big step for myself. I took some of the items from my mother's house to an auction house. The people were very nice and explained how it works and it wasn't horrible which I thanked them for it not being awful. That seems strange but even small steps are hard and I feel like I can do this again. Bring them more things and let them go. I am not letting go of everything but it is a start.
Later this evening I read at an event in St. Pete at a small art gallery. Again the people there made it better. I read the Day at the Beach with Mom and had some trouble making it through with out pausing to compose myself. But the round of applause when I was finished I am not sure if it was for what I had written or for the bravery to stand up there in front of maybe 30 or 40 people and cry. The reassurance I received afterwards was reward enough for my bravery. A woman spoke of her mother's death years ago and that she wished that she would have written about her when it was still fresh in her mind. And another person took the time to tell me that mom would have been proud of me. I hope so.
Some big steps for me when lately I have not been feeling my strongest. I am putting plans in place and am ready to keep moving forward.
When I am going through things at the house I just keep thinking in my head. Do I love this?  Billie and I were going through more clothes yesterday and it is funny we had 3 piles sentimental, garbage and retro. Mom always saved her clothes from the 60's and there were some from the 80's that were clearly our clothes as kids but she held on to them. The sentimental pile was not as big as some would think 3 or 4 things. I don't think I will keep them but still not sure. And that takes me back to the do I love this. Not did mom. Not does someone else but me. This is making it a little easier on some items.
While going through things we found 2 t-shirts that we painted Happy Anniversary on for our parents 11th wedding anniversary which I would have been 10. It is funny, I think my sister Beth had to have made the one because listed under all of our names was Pooh Bear. It was in the sentimental pile. The retro pile I will wash and see if I can find a retro store that might be interested. The idea of selling it to someone that specializes in the stuff makes me feel like mom saved the stuff like a bank acct and because it held some value to her. She just never got around to letting someone else enjoy it after her.
So the roller coaster ups and downs well maybe not roller coaster maybe sometimes it feels like the tea cups. But I keep pressing on trying to make progress I can see what I have gotten rid of and there are plenty of things to spill out of closets and take the space of the the things I have removed.

8/1/16 A break with the kids.
So had a great weekend with Brian and my youngest nieces and nephew. Took them down near Punta Gorda to go on a snorkel trip. Some of us had never done it before but everyone did great. Everyone had a great time and saw all kinds of cool stuff.

This is one of those days that as we drove home I kept thinking I would really love to tell mom how good the kids were and how much fun we had. How we swam in the pool and went out to eat and how they all behaved and everything else about today. Swimming, snorkeling and seeing a dolphin and all kinds of living creatures under the water. Some might argue she was there with us sitting on the boat enjoying the sun for the afternoon. Hanging out with the Captain watching all of us swim and call out to her what we were seeing. The kids may have even brought some of the coolest things over to the boat to show her. She would have loved the birds and the boat and even eating lunch afterwards at Leverocks. She would of loved being with the kids.

If you stuck with me through this whole post you have been on the ups and downs. I have made forward progress but every once in a while I take a step back and have a set back but at the end of the day I know there is a goal and it will be accomplished.

Reading and Writing and Stuff

So back in April I wrote a post about being Sentimental or is it Sediment. I just finished re-reading it and well. I wish I could say that my position on the subject had changed or that I have found the answer or seen the light. I have not. I am still wrestling with the stuff and the memories. Now I am not saying that we have not gotten rid of more stuff. A total of 11 bags of clothes have been donated and about 4 thrown out which is amazing considering the lady only wore about 3 outfits. And I am not talking kitchen garbage bags I am talking 30 gallon outdoor trash bags. Since then I have taken some 10 boxes of stuff to an antique auction and am still waiting for the results of how that has done. So stuff is going away. Craigslist has not been the help I thought it would be to get rid of some of the furnishings but I am going to post the items again. Now that it is time for kids to go back to school maybe some first time apartment owner could use a dining room table and chairs or a bookshelf. I could only hope that they would also want the books on the shelf as well but I doubt we will be that lucky.

The thing that I have kind of morphed my thoughts of my mom's stuff and her memory to me and my stuff and the memory of me. If mom's stuff doesn't matter to others than neither will mine and I have devalued myself to a place I would prefer not to be. There are things that the memories are so strong when I look at in her house and I think no one is going to look at anything and hold me that dear. I will give the strangest example: My mom had a cat years ago that would pee on anything to mark it. So to keep the cat from peeing on mom's shoes she used to pick them up and sit them on a dining room chair. Well the cat died years ago but mom always continued to pick up her shoes and sit them on the chair. And after she passed I noticed one day the shoes sitting on the chair and I thought to pick them up and throw them out. And then I looked at them. Hmm. I see them in my head right now and the tears are running down my face. It is just a stupid pair of deck shoes but I swear if they are tossed now I would be so upset. It has been suggested to me to take a picture of them to remind me of her habit. I know I am not going to bring the chair and the shoes to my house to sit in my dining room. I will end up getting rid of them but for now they sit there.

So my own new found personal lack of value is a self destructive thing that I know is just over thinking the whole thing. But the great thing about my brain is I just don't let go of it. The thoughts sit in my head and get stirred around within my daily thoughts and now I found myself wishing for happier thoughts and brighter days.

I am hoping by writing these things down that I can let them go. I have thought them they are of no value to me and now they can be gone. I am going to say on a positive note that even though I have not posted anything recently I have written some. Still not finished with a poem that I carry in my purse just in case the thoughts to complete it all come together one day when I am not near pen and paper. But I also have attended a reading of fiction and non-fiction at an art gallery in St. Pete. It was very nice and I did read the piece I wrote for mom. Yes, I cried but when I was done the lady in charge said that mom would be proud of me for reading it. And another lady said she wished she would have written after her mother passed. So over all that was a good experience and I would like to write something new between now and September when there will be another reading event. Something a little less close to my heart even though that is where the writing comes from so I doubt I can distance my heart from my writing.

Well the sun is starting to come up and I feel a little bit better. I have shared a memory or two and spilled more tears and of my guts than I probably should but I will head back to bed.

Hear is to happier days.

Let the Tour begin

Today is not the sit down and write the entire post in an hour kind of day. This one takes a week but here goes. I began on July 2nd the first day of this year's Tour de France. In my mind I see my mom singing,"it's the most wonderful time of the year." Mom loved the  Tour. She loved the scenery and she would watch each days events each time they were broadcast. For 21 days she would call and say we should watch and see the castles and the sunflowers or the lavender fields. Or we should see the elaborate display of a bicycle made of hay and how the farmer makes the wheels turn with their tractor. The views from the helicopter are always amazing. Brian likes to see them crash.
Today as I watched I thought how I have learned a little French from watching the tour. The word peloton, which is french for ball but in cycling it is the main field of riders. Another phrase I thought of was Maillot Jaune, or in English the yellow jersey which is worn by the leader of the race, which can change each day or stay the same for days or weeks at a time.

I have often wondered if watching street side would be as fun as mother found it to be watching on tv. I thought many times about it but when mentioned she never seemed interested in actually going to France but part of me would like to experience it for her.  Experience the people of the Basque region (southern part of France that boarders with Spain runs along the Pyrenees Mountains), The people of that region always wearing orange which I have learned is the color of the telco company. And the people are referred to as the "orange crush". They line the top of the mountain stages and get so close to the riders I am always afraid one will be hit. They always talk of how these people have been up on top of the mountain some waiting for days for the riders to get to that stage. To say some of these fans are crazy would be an understatement but it always makes for an interesting day.
The down hill trek can sometimes be cold and to keep warm the riders will grab a newspaper from a bystander and stick it under their jersey. It keeps them warm as they are heading down hill at 40 miles per hour. If you are interested next week they should be riding through this area and you will see how fun loving the Basque people can be.

So far this week mom's favorite rider Mark Cavendish has already won 3 stages. Not sure why mom liked him other than he was from the Isle of Mann in Britain and my brother had friends from that same place, A place known for the motor cycle races which I have also watched at my mother's urging. Mark has now won 29 stages over his career just in the Tour. He wins the stages in the last seconds which could be why she liked him. One win this week a photo finish that was so close but the day before he lost by just that close as well. That does make for an exciting end to a 100 mile ride. He is in the front of the peloton with his lead off men that will drop off one by one after they have pulled him up close to the front and kept the pace for a while then in the last mile as the rest have faded Mark and a few other sprinters will do what they do best. Race like crazy for the finish line. Good Luck for the rest of the race Mark. Mom is watching and cheering you on.

Mom also liked the commentary on the race the two Englishmen that call the race point out the interesting sites and explain parts of the race that people outside the bicycle world may not understand. One example they would refer to is a Natural Break. It is truly a pee break along the road. The cameras will divert our eyes to more scenic things during the natural break but yes the riders do pause along the way. Mom's favorite commentator Bob Roll, an American cyclist from the US 7-Eleven team from back in the 1980's who road along with the likes of  Greg LeMond who was the first non-European to win the Tour de France. Bob is known for his witty commentary and they have a segment called Ask Bobke which you can submit your questions about the race and he will answer. I to find him to be quite fun and would like to meet him.

Along with the Tour I thought about the things she liked that she shared with us like bacon. BLTs were a Saturday staple at her house but both Billie and I can tell you we never have bacon at home. But would look forward to going down to her house and eating BLTs for lunch. Was it because that was just something to share at mom's or would it maybe not be as good at home. Yes I am crying over the thought of a BLT or the smell of bacon cooking at mom's.

I am going to continue watching this weeks tour and maybe next Saturday have a BLT with Billie and continue to enjoy the Tour as she would have. Au Revoir for now.

A Day at the Beach with Mom

So that contest I entered in March they announced the winner and it was not me. That is ok. Gave me the opportunity to write something new and I had the time and was not sleeping so I wrote. Now I read it back and I can feel that time and see myself sitting there with mom in the middle of the night. In case you are interested in the winner submission I have added a link to the page.
http://www.fla-keys.com/flashfiction/

Here is my submission to share with the rest of the world.

A Day at the Beach with Mom

    A young girl stands at the edge of the water and sees the sand and water, the blue sky and shells along the beach.

    That same girl comes back to the spot as a teenager she not only sees the sand and water but she feels it between her toes. In the blue sky she sees the white wispy clouds and feels the sharp edges of the shells in her hands.

    As a young woman she stands in that same spot feeling the warm water at the edge of the shore and the sand between her toes. The sky is still just as blue and the clouds as wispy. She smells the fresh air and hears the birds and the sharp edges of the shells are beautiful.

    The woman now middle aged stands along the same shore, loves the sand and water mixing between her toes. The blue skies, wispy clouds and fresh air seem much more intense than when she was young. The beautiful shells holding live creatures she tosses back in the water to ensure their safety. She knows the beauty she has held in her hand is forever in her heart. The birds direct her eyes out in the water to the boats passing by. Do they miss what I’ve seen my whole life or is the view just as beautiful from out there?

    Now an old woman it is much harder to get through the sand to the shore but that feel of the sand and water mixing between her toes is still as it has always been but now the clouds are harder for her to see in the sky and the fresh air brings a tear to her eyes. The shells colors and edges are not as sharp as when she was younger, she cannot toss the shells as far back as before but her heart still thinks she can. The birds still direct her eyes out and though she cannot see the boats they are still there. She breathes in the fresh air as though it may be her last breath, and remembers the young girl without a care in the world and the teenager that saw the world could be rough at times but as a young woman she stopped to breath in the fresh air and feel the beauty in her hand she holds in her heart. She remembers seeing off in the distance the world going by.

    The next time she is back she is no longer herself. She came back to become one with the sand and water, to be part of the shells. She can now fly with the birds and she is part of the perfume that makes the air so fresh. Her heart will always be at this place in the sand.

If you go there today you will see what she saw and feel what she felt but only if you stand there long enough and open your mind and your heart to the beauty.

By Jeanne Holmquist

Why the Dr bothers me?

So one day I wake up trying to convince myself that the simple task I have to do today that millions of women do every year is attainable by me. Well maybe not. Maybe an hour of waiting and worrying is too much for my mind and my body. Maybe I will try again next week. Oh, the people at the office were kind after they realized I had reached the point of no return. The point of which fight or flight the option is over and I must go. I explained. It isn't easy for me to come to the office and waiting is just not something I am good with here. Not that I don't have the patience. I have all the patience in the world but as I wait patiently my brain doesn't stop. Doesn't stop telling the rest of me how they are going to weigh me and I will be disappointed and then they are going to take my blood pressure and they will ask what worries me so much and how nothing bad is going to happen and that it is just a normal test that is taken to prevent something much worse. And is your blood pressure always this high? I understand all of that. That logical, common sense part of my brain gets all of that. But the part of my brain that is unreasonable and illogical is screaming you may not make it through this visit Jeanne. Reminds me of the father in Sanford in Son when he feels a heart attack coming on and yells out, "You hear that Elizabeth? I am coming to join you honey." Fred Sanford never died at these moments. He survived, just like me today.

I will try again next week to face the visit. I will try to be patient and they promise that I will not have to wait that long and will be seen quickly. My sister recommended that I ask to be first so I didn't have time to get worked up or worry. I used to have to do that with all Dr. appt's but I am getting better. I can go to the family Dr. and wait and get weighed and have my blood pressure checked and I survive. I will remind myself on Monday that I can do this. I can wait my turn and survive the poking and prodding and walk out the door still in one piece.


Just had to get this off my chest in hopes that I will not have to worry for the next 2 days. And maybe the shortest blog post I have ever written and published.

Good night.