Let the Light Shine!

I’ve always said the difference between a bad day, and a good day is usually one sleep. I find I have a different perspective after a quality slumber. Unfortunately, when one thing after another, goes awry, it’s much harder to keep a positive attitude.

Usually I have great faith in people, and life in general. This summer was proof; I had some good fortune with friends and family. A pending ticket to Cheryl Crow for September, a trip to Whistler all expenses paid, and a fireworks cruise generously bestowed on me. For all of this, I am so appreciative.


Yet every so often, life throws a power struggle in our way, a few mechanical problems and some fiscal uncertainties. Seems many people are plagued with issues of inconvenience lately. Every where I turn, I hear a similar story.

I have real difficulty asking for help; it’s an ongoing problem for me, hiding under the guise of pride. It’s not in my realm to inconvenience people. I also hate taking advantage of good natured friends and family. Therefore I will often stay alone in my conundrums.

I try to find wonderful things to be grateful for during these inauspicious times. Last night my daughter brought home pizza for dinner, and a few movies. We were all in the same funk. Nothing better to give you a “Calgon take me away moment” than watching a mindless adolescent movie, or one where a character overcomes adversity.

First we watched a fluffy silly movie, which was a diversion from my thoughts and my daughter’s cramps. Bryan is just a darn good sport, watching the semi chic flick with us.

Being the word lover that I am, the second movie “Akeelah and the bee”, was a movie I was really interested in seeing. Although it didn’t stay in the theatres long, I was not at all disappointed. I actually feel somewhat revitalized and in better spirits having watched it.

I will end this post in saying, I had a tearful moment when Akeelah read this great passage attributed to Nelson Mandela!

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, “Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?” Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine as children do. We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

Wonderful movie, with an excellent story line! Exactly what I needed to revive my somewhat down trodden spirit!

The doldrums

I have been in the doldrums lately. Many compiled inconveniences, some anxieties, along with a few pessimistic encounters, have left me at a loss for words. I am usually very positive…..so when one thing after another takes a negative twist, I tend to retreat. I guess I go within to figure it all out. No matter how difficult life gets, I look to the less fortunate and count my blessings. Hopefully this tough burp in my life will soon subside. I have also picked my least favorite color to convey these sentiments.

Solemn

Solemn

A dark place with too many glitches
Clogged contortions of mass proportions
Upheaval with no resolution
Misguided personal constitutions
Wrong directions, modest selections
Immense imperfections
Plummeting upon one
Lone soul

Sunday Scribblings "The Monster"

Sunday Scribblings

"The Monster"

There’s a monster inside
It’s run amok with my life
It’s been around for years,
Comfortable using its protection
I catered to it’s every whim
Performing to its desires
Feeding its ego
Even telling it what it needed to hear
It seemed to play well with others,
Yet I have witnessed it destroy
a valuable friendship
as I stood idly by
Letting it wreak havoc
Void of solutions
Frozen by fear
Oh, it’s so pretty in its demeanor
You’d never imagine
the fury it can cause
with love and finances
Fooled, yes I was duped
As are so many others
I carried a façade
Instigated by the monster,
It was always there
With me, every waking moment
We went everywhere together
It knew all my secrets
It presented well
I thought it was my friend
I was never embarrassed by it
Until recently
But really,
Not revealing my authentic self
I was only deceiving my soul
For years I hid behind the large mass
My monster

Pride

Appealing artists, My 150th Post

Thomas C. Fedro "Faces 262" "Faces 148"














Dianne
McGhee
" Queen of Something or Other Tiara"
" Spiro Gyro"

Abril Zachiel Andrade "Tea cup" and "Eyes "

I’ve had a rough couple of days. It appears that others have had some disarray in their lives as well. Must be something in the air! I am taking comfort looking though some inspiring art at EBSQ, a site for self representing artists. Thomas C Fedro is my favorite so far, with his distinct flare, and incredible use of color. You can spot his compositions immediately on any thumbnail page.

I have an absurd attraction to stain glass, an overwhelming feeling of happiness and contentment showers me when I enter a stain glass art store.Dianne McGhee is also a favorite, with her gorgeous stain glass pieces. I am taken in by her art, especially the beautiful tiara.

Abril Zachiel Andrade captures an obscure haunting vision on canvas, yet there’s somewhat of a sense of humor in the uniqueness. I enjoy her gothic color work.

I love Amanda Hone’s wonderful command of color in her many pieces of patterned art, but I am not so attracted to her drawings, I find them a little too depressing or angry for my taste.

Art for every flavor can be found at EBSQ, if you aren’t familiar with this site, you’ll be surprised at the allure of all the variation! Enjoy!

Illustration Friday Match

Illustration Friday “Match” Sometimes things are a great match, other times they’re not. My mother was quite blatant in her disdain for tastes differing from her own. My father, slightly more philosophical seemed to understand and appreciate the unique differences in others. He could often be heard saying “Each to their own, said the man as he kissed the cow". I think this quote originated from his Scottish roots.

I drink in the variation like a great bottle of wine. High on the creative process, and the way others express themselves. Enjoying its availability, admiring the diversity, and at times, feeling inspired by it. I appreciate the way people convey their creativity and present themselves and their surroundings. Life would be way too boring if everything was the same.

My goddess friends individually have different tastes, yet we share many common threads. I love all the unique flavors my artistic friends possess; as a group, we're a perfect match!

Peace

"A human being is a part of the whole called by us "Universe," a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest- a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty". Albert Einstein

Music is Magic

During gloom, or elation
Music just has that woo
Expressions of an essence
Sentiments, musicians construe
A poultice on inflamed soul
Or joy to celebrate
Unfolding diverse passion
Rousing sensations radiate
Soothing sounds, create a mood
Brash and strident does too
Flavors for every disposition
Reflecting ambience ensues
Healing, or enlightening
Enchanted by magical means
Illuminating poignant images
Evoking mesmerizing scenes
Captivates we congregate
Muse and message through
Spellbound in its presence
Revering those that pursue
Music is magic
Not completely understood
Mastering the souls key
Stimulating what it could

Darn

This started out as a really quick doodle. Then I realized he looks almost as forlorn as I feel after losing my favorite brooch and misplacing my glasses this weekend….. Maybe he is my alter ego!! Darn where did I put those glasses? Notice how part of his brain is missing? Ever feel that way? I do……usually just another mental pause!

Second Birthday

Mother with her daughter















Birthday Girl! Second Birthday!

Grandma and her grandson

Barbs granddaughter turned two. I attended a dinner in her honor. There were four loving children in attendance; it was such a joy for me to watch the kids play, entranced in glee. It just seems to spread happiness everywhere!

Their individual little personalities always amaze me, an intricate life puzzle that can take years to figure out. The ability to spot innate character traits is more apparent now that I’m older, and well removed from raising youngsters.

In the mix was a determined little eight month old. He spent ages focused on getting up to walk. The lean athlete just knows automatically what to do with any toy that has a physical dimension to it. Two maternal little angels, one taking care of her doll, the others taking care of the younger child. Wise beyond his years another young man, very articulate in nature, was born just knowing things. At eleven he has a fascination with baking and the dynamics of food. It’s intriguing for me to see all the kids interact in such a loving way. I was fortunate to witness such a special day!

Stranger in the Night!

Barb Chris and Laura





Strangers singing Happy Birthday!









Laura and Barb


Last night was another goddess birthday. We ate at a restaurant called FRONDS; personally I found the food to be reasonable and rather good. I’d go back for sure. As planned as the night seemed to be, there were many unpredictable moments. Barbs beautiful cake toppled over in the car on the way to the beach. She was a great sport, after being doused in chocolate icing. With sticky hands and hair she managed to look as gorgeous as ever.

Feeling somewhat anemic and touch nauseous I managed to trudge along for the night, stopping at every washroom along the way. We settled at a picnic table after sundown, and the creatively crafted cake drew birthday greeters. Small groups passed by and shared the birthday song for our goddess. Quite comical that so many people were interested in what we were all about.

Enmeshed in our intimate conversations a German man around fifty five stopped by when he saw the whole cake had disappeared. We had wrapped it up for home. He had a spiritual message. He declined our offer of cake, informing us of his Friday fast, brashly adding that the cake may not be up to his standard of German excellence. He presumptuously sat beside me; his personal body smell was offensive to me. It wasn’t that he was unclean, it was just the chemistry of the man did not mesh with my nostrils.
He was crass and annoying; I just wanted him to vamoose. Do you hear a little menopausal intolerance in my tone? Laugh out loud; yes I have no time for obnoxious people at this stage in my life!

Parking was very pricey at two dollars an hour. With three cars it cost a total of twenty four dollars for the evening. We should have taken one car! Certain parts of the night were fun, I wasn’t up to snuff and had a blasting headache when I arrived home.

Bracelet and Earrings

I made these glass
bead earrings and bracelets today for a birthday gift. We aren’t suppose to exchange gifts but this friend has been so incredible to me over the years and I thought if I crafted it, then I could get away with breaking the rules. Besides if they're not suitable her artistic daughter can take it apart make something more to her liking, I won’t be at all insulted. I just thought the beads were so colorful and pretty. She wears quite a bit of green so hopeful it will match a few things in her closet. I originally wanted to make a two strand bracelet, unfortunately it took quite a few tries, which were unsuccessful, so I ended up making two singles.

Rare Occurrence

Brenda with her daughter Stephanie


My Friend Brenda was here from Kelowna for four and a half days. She’s psychologist and single mother of three grown children. It's always so exciting to see her and I always miss her when she leaves.

One morning a few years ago while out for her morning walk, she collapsed. A neighbor found her immediately. She was rushed to the emergency, and diagnosed with a massive stroke.

At first the prospects were quite grim. Her children were told she wouldn’t walk or talk again. Only seventeen, nineteen and twenty one, they were devastated. I was furious at the neurologist for giving her kids such a shocking, negative prognosis at such an early stage in her recovery. A phenomenal mom, her children depended on her for love and emotional security.

Her children rallied together in the most incredible way, each bringing their best assets to keep things running as smoothly as possible. Lovingly sustaining each other, while maintaining the home, and supporting their mother in her recovery. It was a true test of love and endurance, as the kids waited daily for signs of slow improvements.

My friend Brenda and I have a long history together. We married men who were best friends in the army. After very long term marriages we both divorced, remaining close friends while our ex’s no longer communicate. A warm and loving mother Brenda has always put her kids first. Her mother died of MS when she was a teen, and although her mother was ill most of her childhood, Brenda instinctively knew how to be an incredible mother.

She’s truly an angel on this planet. So why we ask ourselves, would a woman who lives right, is kind to others, has never done anything in excess, lived a balanced life with fitness, good nutrition, and proper rest, have a stroke at forty-five. It was a rare unfortunate mystery.

Many people rallied around Brenda those first weeks. Her children even kidnapped their mom and brought her home for a few hours in the evenings. I spent some time with her kids, but after a day or so, I realized they were totally capable of running the home on their own. They did their mother proud.

Mostly elderly people were in the ward where she resided. The nurses didn’t seem hopeful that Brenda would have a full recovery either. It was frustrating for the kids and others who loved her. Heather, a woman whose daughter used to baby-sit for me, had a parallel situation to Brenda’s and was recovered almost ten years. She too was in her mid forties when a stroke occurred. So I never gave up hope that Brenda would eventually see a fully recovery.

On those first days alone with Brenda, I tested her. First I asked her to punch in her home number on the cell phone. She missed only a few digits. I asked her questions I knew the answers to. She nodded the correct answers. She had her full faculties. I knew she understood me, even when others said it wasn’t so. My mother was aphasic in her last months and we communicated well with body language. I likened it to a computer that crashes, and then you get it up and running, but a lot of the data is missing. That was Brenda, it was all there, and she just had difficulty requisitioning it verbally. Her audio processing seemed to be the most affected.

I called Heather and asked her what I could do for someone in the first days of a stroke. She advised me to massage her hands and arms so her muscles wouldn’t atrophy from being dormant. So the kids began massaging the affected hand as they sat by her bedside.

Within a few weeks she was walking, and she was working hard to make her hand and arm function. She was spitting out a few words. Within four months she had traveled from Kelowna with her kids down to my place. She was speaking slow broken English; she was tired and needed constant rest. Crowds were difficult and draining, but she persevered.

Last year she treated me to a night in a Hotel, I was floored at how good she looked. She was dressed so funky and had a new pep in her step. It was a new, more modern woman, full of zest and fun, the same woman I had known for almost twenty five years. She was functioning as normal, with some speech impairment.

It’s been two years and she is waiting for her speech to fully recover. Each visit I witness new improvements. She is reading and can read aloud with great precision; at times she has difficulty requisitioning some words. But don’t we all as we get older anyway? Put menopause in the mix and who knows if it’s the stroke, or that annoying menace mental pause. I am so proud of my friend; managing to plow through adversity with the best attitude of anyone I know. She is always positive and intelligent in her resolve and I feel so fortunate to have her in my life.

She is considering getting her Ph.D. during her recovery. I think she is an absolutely amazing woman! It certainly makes my physical ailments pale in comparison!

Her children have all moved on. Her son has made her a grandma of two little boys, her one daughter is now married and living in Jersey and her other daughter Stephanie, who has always been driven, is on her way to being a phenomenal business woman! Life is good. Today she drove four hours home so she’d be arrive in time for her Dragon Boat class.

Paper Clips

Wednesday night we watched RV with Robin Williams filmed here in British Columbia. It was a light humorous movie with silly antics throughout. I am a huge Robin Williams fan so I got a real kick out of the film and was laughing out loud through much of the movie. Often times getting stares from the kids as I laughed far beyond what was probably appropriate. It was cute film with a simple story line.

The kids also rented “Paper Clips” a must see documentary for everyone. It’s based on the premise that it doesn’t matter how insignificant you may think you are, we can all make a difference. It was named one of the top documentaries in 2004. The movie depicts how a group of students respond to lesson taught about the Holocaust. I hope this movie one day becomes part of our school curriculum, as it depicts the importance of tolerance!

The Flow

The flow, the flow is out of control,
it arrives at its own remiss.
Without much warning, I arise in the morning,
jarred from a slumbers abyss.
At the rarest of times, when I think it’s behind me,
it sneaks up, then reappears.

Meddling amid, my unyielding might
messing with the functioning gears.
Materialized heat, manifests any hour,
moods elevate on a whim,
This goes on, for too many days,
making potential fornication, quite grim.

Sparked Fond Memories

Posted on Kaibluecreations Blog is a fantastic photo of caravanning VW vans. I began an email to Kai that became so long I decided to make it today’s post instead. That one picture evoked so many wonderful warm memories and many random thoughts, from my past.

It sparked the memory of Peppers obsession with Volkswagen beetles when she was a little girl. The Barbie car could not compare to the adored Beetle which she called a “Punch Buggy” Many car rides were spent counting the unique bug shaped cars as they passed by. Something I also did as a child.

One summer evening, many years ago, during a stroll on the promenade in White Rock, we spied a Caravan of Volkswagen bugs. Imagine my surprise, when my shy elated little girl squealed with passion as each one passed by. “Another and another,” she screamed as she jumped up and down. Spectators more amazed at this little girl’s excitement; than the parade of passing “Punch Buggies” You’d think she’d won the lottery. We still giggle about it to this day.

I was also reminded of my brother’s first car, a red convertible Volkswagen beetle with a faulty horn. Quite the comedian, my brother was forever looking for a laugh. One particular night we were chatting in his bug parked outside my new house. Unexplainably the horn wouldn’t turn off. My brother put the car in gear, and drove around and around in my cult de sac, repeatedly singing the Mr. Rogers theme song “It’s a lovely day in my neighbourhood.” The horn continued to blast along with his not so in tune voice. I was laughing so hard I almost wet my pants. I begged him to stop, but of course he wouldn’t. Voicing my concerns about the neighbors seemed useless as he continued to drive in a circular motion. The more hysterical my laughter became, the louder he sang. It was definitely a case of “Oh my god what will the neighbors think?” I suppose the song, and driving antics were suppose to stave off the fits of anger brought on by the annoying horn. Eventually the horn stopped. I’m not sure if he disabled the wires or banged it with a hammer. I just know it was an incident never to be forgotten. When I eventually share my blog address with him, he will certainly chuckle at the memory of us driving around my cult de sac that summer night when he was a teen.

The third memory evoked a rash search of every photo album in my house, desperate to find a picture of my dads blue Volkswagen beetle pulling a home made one wheel trailer. Yes, you heard that right. I am sure you’d have to see it to believe it. This came up at my fiftieth birthday party. Imagine two adults, three kids ( they actually let me bring my friend Toni), and a black wire haired terrier riding in a Volkswagen beetle, pulling a fully packed one wheel trailer and an overfilled roof rack box. Got that?…..yes on an eight hour trek, up the mountain to the Okanagan lake. Well, that was a yearly occurrence. I am sad to say I couldn't locate even one picture of the car and the trailer. Not much was visually recorded when I was young. That car with the one wheel trailer was a definite anomaly; certainly one of the relatives must have been amused enough to snap a picture. Now I am on a quest. That car and trailer were so loaded up, and some of hills in the mountain were quite taxing on that bug. My dad would politely pull over quite a few times during the trip just to let the convoy of vehicles go by.
It really is a great reminder of how tolerant and patient my dad was. His wonderful nature and ability of overcome adversity afforded us many fun camping trips over the years. My uncle would blast his way through the mountain barely stopping for a bathroom break. My dad on the other hand, toodled along, singing songs, stopping for ice-cream, bathroom breaks and a picnic of Kentucky fried chicken. All year we’d save our allowance to take camping for two weeks in the Okanagan at Green Bay. I revisited Green Bay as an adult and although it is still there its not quite the same. Unfortunately the resort has no website, but there is a campsite close by that mirrors how it was when I was young, it's called Westbay Resort. Swimming, waterskiing and dancing to “ Sweet Pea" blaring on the outside jukebox, sneaking out at night to meet boys, playing cards by Coleman light, singing around the fire, are some of the greatest childhood memories still alive and well.

Eye to I

Sunday scribblings I can still.....










Eye can be surprised, grateful, silly and fun
Eye can be sensitive, sarcastic, savvy and sexy
Eye can be contented, vulnerable, skeptical, and fooled
Eye can be disappointed, hopeful, open and hurt
Eye can be pensive, sad, teased and loved
Eye sees all emotion

I can still......

I can still delve far beyond my capabilities to see what is hiding within
I can forage my mind and soul to find forgiveness for the unforgivable
Love for the unlovable, and hope for the hopeless, and faith for the unbelievable

I can still be eternally youthful, although my body defies me
I can learn new things, enjoy new ideas and be open to change
listen more attentively, speak less, and dissuade guilt

I can still assist young people when no one hears them accurately
I can enjoy what they have to teach me, because I am still learning
while staying aware in this rapidly changing world of anger and violence

I can still observe things in my most unique way despite opposition
I can stay loyal to my conviction although the cost at times can be extremely high
I can filter propaganda fed to me on television, and by mainstream philosophy

I can still honor my most valued asset, my intuition while heeding its gifts
I can enjoy human frailties in all their complexities, void of judgment
Looking for clarification, resolution and absolve

I can still be a women who sets boundaries around food, friends, and family
I can stay true to the person I am still becoming, reveling in my new self discovery
Pulling more of myself to the surface to share as a legacy

I can still be thin, and find a mate who mirrors me in ideals, ethics, and attitude
A man who shares common interests in music, words, art and people
I can still be a woman who has it all, abundance in peace, love and joy!

Overwhelmed

Today I feel overwhelmed. I’m tired and I have too many obligations. I think I will do the necessities and opt out of a few other things. I have learned to do that over the years. Set boundaries so I can function properly. It’s a brave feat though, as it’s not always a popular decision for women who do too much.

It took me years to realize I didn’t have to do and be everything to everyone. I would see women run to the store and buy pre made goodies for parties. Stupid as I was, I would always be slaving over a hot stove, kitchen bound the morning or even days before cooking and baking for special events. The smart women would enter the party beautiful and fresh, having hiked or gone to the spa or done something enjoyable for themselves during the day. No one cared or questioned what they brought. I on the other hand was socially conditioned to make everything from scratch. Complimented for my culinary skills, it was expected that I would bring something scrumptious. Somehow what I thought would be more economical to make always ended up to cost more than the veggie plate, salad, or pre made dips the others brought. So much wiser in my later years I now do what suits me best. Sometimes it’s making something yummy and other times it’s grabbing something on my way. Only now I’m less attached to what others think of me!

My Front Door

Some of these flowers were planted in May, by the Flower Elf, the purple verbena, New Guinea inpatients and fuchsias were planted by me. Their beauty brings me so much joy. Yesterday a lady walking her two greyhounds commented on how much pleasure she gets seeing my flower pots everyday. I thanked her and told her that's why I planted them.
Some children erected a rainbow colored, hand painted sign, outside their door, it says “Happy House”. It makes Pepper smile every time she walks by. She’s planning on adhering a post it note to the sign, letting the kids know how much joy it brings her everytime she sees it.

Our world is changing,
peace is dissipating
Fear is eroding
celebrated freedom
Today I will rejoice
in the beauty surrounding
Live in the moment,
not forgetting the less fortunate
Scared, alone, suffering
in foreign lands
People just like me,
going about their business
Raising children, seeing friends,
enjoying spirituality
Devastated by the invasion,
of ugliness and torment
Unable to dispel fear,
starving, sick and desperate
Sitting amongst fallen hope,
unhappiness, clinging to faith
Counting hours,
days and minutes wondering
If their future will ever see safety,
beauty, and hope again
Today I will pray
amongst the flowers

Sundance

Sensitively swaying shapes
Shadow shallow silhouettes

Water

Last night my friend Barb and I rented the movie “Water” which takes place in an ashram, or widow colony, in 1938 India. A poignant, movie I have wanted to see for some time now. Water evoked a plethora of feelings and the filmmaker Deepa Mehta was successful at portraying some ugly truths about misconstrued religious doctrine which can pertain to any faith or denomination. It’s a movie sure to stay with you for sometime after viewing it. I recommend watching the special features to get the full impact of what it took to produce this controversial film.

Fun at the Beer Garden

Sunday morning Megan took Pepper and Bryan to Whistler village to shop. Bryan bought his little brother a t-shirt that says "Hugs not Drugs" on it, and a new Johnny Cash t-shirt for himself. Pepper bought a lululemon sweat zippy and received a beautiful free cloth bag with wonderful spiritual inscriptions.

The afternoon was spent Creekside, at Dusty's bar and grill, where a BBQ cook off took place. A wonderful musician strummed and sang many familar songs, partnered with a female fiddler. Unfortunately I didn't get the name of the performers. We sat in the beer gardens sipping on cold drinks, while chatting and enjoying the ambiance of people and music. That evening we headed home just after eight. It was a fun few days of giggles and great family connections at a very luxurious resort! I am so fortunate to have been in the best place in B.C. to celebrate the B.C. day long weekend!

More dinner Pictures

B.C. day holiday and Bryans twenty one!

Bryan's 21st Birthday




















Saturday morning the kids and I took a scenic two hour drive to Whistler (designated location of the 2010 Olympics) to join my brother. We shared a very nice two bedroom condo above Nesters grocers, over looking the mountain. In the afternoon we headed to Rainbow Park by the lake. The weather was scorching hot and I managed to some how get burnt sitting in the shade. It was a wonderfully relaxing afternoon.

That evening we celebrated Bryan’s birthday at Milestones restaurant. The Bellini’s were delicious but the food was very disappointing. The chicken and cornbread were so dry it was difficult to choke down. Both corn bread muffin and over spiced foccacia bread were left uneaten. Bryan who works in a restaurant was appalled when he witnessed one of the waitress catch her sneeze, rub it into her hand then continue on working without sanitizing her hands. We certainly didn’t let that ruin our night though. The upside was Bryan getting a delicious chocolate birthday dessert lit with a sparkler.

Darcy and I stayed up late
talking about everything from "What the bleep do we know" to what teens need to get through the tough years. It was a warm and intimate night of great conversation and loads of love! Our mom would be proud!

Sad about Susie

Sad About Susie

Where ever did you go?
We can not really tell
Where ever you are now
We’re sure you must be well
For all you suffered
In days gone by
We wish you well
And will not cry
For tears were shed
While you were here
For all your pain
And all your fear
Although you couldn’t
Speak with us
You bravely smiled
And made no fuss
We wanted to be there for you
So you would know we cared
Although the days were often long
Special things were shared
We sang for you, and laughed too
We watched you as you slept
We tried to be of comfort
We hugged you when you wept
And even though we did these things
It didn’t seem enough
Watching as you suffered on
At time it was so tough
We brought you special foods to eat
Sometimes you wanted none
But we knew you loved us
For all the things we’d done
Days went fast and days went slow
And we denied
That you would go
But in the end as you sicker
We hoped and prayed
You’d go much quicker
And yet our hearts
Could not let go
The endless waiting
When we didn’t know
We knew we’d miss you
We knew we’d cry
And yet we could not say good-bye
We knew we’d miss you,
When you were gone
But in our hearts
You still live on
Your thoughtful ways
Your heart of gold
Are things that can't
Go untold
Your friendly way
Your idle chatter
At times a fault
It didn’t matter
This was you,
The way you were
And you were loved
That’s for sure
Short and feisty
Full of fight
Humanitarian
Was your true plight
You loved the birds
To watch them feed
Or grab a book
And sit and read
Your life was full
Of many things
Simple pleasures
Not diamond rings
You danced and golfed
superbly cooked
Play games and sewed
on gambling were hooked
For all who loved you
And all who cared
For all this sorrow
We were not prepared
Time after time
I’ve tried to write
An end to this poem
That would sound just right
But to my demise
There is no end
I’m just waiting
For my heart to mend

This piece was written for my mother Susan, who died August 4th, 1991 after a brave battle with cancer. She is deeply missed by friends, family, and relatives. Her memory lives on, every passing day. Where ever you are mom, we love you and hope things are better for you now!
Written with love and sadness by your daughter in the summer of 1991

Fifteen years ago today!

This has been a pivotal year for me. My daughter turned twenty; my father’s been gone twenty years. I turned fifty, and my mother has been deceased fifteen years today.

Mom having suffered an arduous passing at sixty six should have lived longer. Fear of being overweight, on a five foot tall stature, mom took up smoking at thirty years old. What was she thinking? It was the fifties, and that’s what women believed was done to stay fashionable slim. Did she stay thin? No she didn’t, although never obese, she was always unhappy about even a minimal weight gain. So when the middle age spread arrived, she was already fully addicted to the almighty cigarette.

May 3, 1991 at sixty six years old she had a stroke, induced by a brain tumor. The tumor was secondary to the primary Carcinoma lung cancer. Hours on end were spent in the hospital, policing moms care. She suffered not only the heat of that summer, but also the cancer ravaging her body. It was a grueling stint for all of us who loved her.

Nights do seem to be the hardest for the cancer sufferer. Infrequent room visits by nurses can leave patients distressed and alone for hours. Didn’t take long for us to catch onto the nightly routine in palliative care, we’d only leave for small intervals when competent caring nurses were on duty. Like any job, there are those less efficient employees who shirk their responsibilities. We had no intention of letting our mom be a victim of a less than stellar care. Two weeks previous to her demise, my brother and I slept in her room every night.

Mom took comfort in hearing her children converse by her bed. She’d awaken every so often; look over with a half smile, contented to know we were still there. Along with our voices she loved the lull of the television too. Even though mom was aphasic and unable to speak, nurses knew her disdain when they attempted to flick off her television in the middle of the night. Communication consisted of only body language during those last months.

Mom was never shy discussing death. She didn’t want her life prolonged unnecessary with chemo treatments. A morphine drip was hooked up making her furious. You could read the anger in her face. I had to assure her it wasn’t chemo. I explained with love, that we wouldn’t betray her wishes.Trusting me, she relaxed. Doctors never offered Chemo for her late stage of cancer.

The morning mom passed, my brother and I sat on opposite sides of the bed holding her hands. As hot as a freshly brewed cup of coffee, we constantly released her hands every few minutes. The extensive body heat was rather shocking. Eventually her body began shutting down at her feet. My brother narrated the passing; reiterating each detail as it occurred until her last breath. When he announced she was gone. Her spirit is hovered above us. It was the oddest most spiritual thing. I don’t even think he remembers his narration.

We spent an hour alone in the room with her. Together we did her hair and makeup. A very proud woman, a hairdresser for forty three years, she hated people to see her without her hair done. It may seem superficial to some, but long before she died we knew her wishes. Fifteen years ago today my then thirty year old brother and I became adult orphans