Yellow Magic Madness #3 Candle

Candle-flame-and-reflection

Candle-flame-and-reflection (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I love candles, always did. I used to collect candles when I was young. My father, for many, many years before he died, would buy me a candle every Christmas. It was a tradition. Now, my mom, my sister, even my son have given me candles as presents. Not only do I love them, but it keeps the memory of my father alive. I think it’s sweet that my family is trying to hold on to a tradition I dearly loved.

My 1,000th Post, THANK YOU!

Yellow roses

Yellow roses (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Can you believe it? 1,000 posts? I can’t either but I am so excited.

I started this blog when I was going through a very rough time and I wanted to hide, to hibernate (hence the title hibernationnow) to just get through one day after another. I was sick, I hurt everywhere and was finally diagnosed with Fibromyalgia and Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, an autoimmune disease. This blog has helped me grow up and get through many important things in my life. Some very good and some very bad: It’s LIFE as I have known it; I’ve always tried to be honest. (Although there is a lot of fiction and non-fiction mixed together and sometimes I love trying to trick you!)

I want to THANK YOU sincerely from my heart for reading/following my bog.You don’t know how much it means to me. There have been people from the start that still follow me and I am so grateful. There are new people every day and I get excited with each new follow. WELCOME. I enjoy the comment section so much and I try to write back as many people as I can even if it is a simple “Thanks for writing.” I read EVERY comment and I think about them too. You make MY day.

I know I can’t stop writing, writing keeps me centered. It’s in my heart and soul. But, I need to make a few decisions down the road. Some of you have suggested that I self publish some of the posts into a book. I’m thinking about it but I know it is quite expensive. In the “old days” people had agents who did this for them. Blogging is an absolute joy to me and I will continue writing, no matter what.

There’s a new chapter in my life now, both kids are in college and while I was sad and angry for a while, I’m now excited and looking forward to my new adventures. It’s not the end of the road, it’s just the beginning of another chapter and the possibilities are endless. Knowing me as you do, some of them are quite…..interesting! I’ll keep you posted.

Thank you, again, for your support of me, for your suggestions and your kind words. Please keep them coming. I truly appreciate you.

Love, Laurie aka hibernationnow.wordpress.com

p.s. of course you knew any image would be in my favorite color…….

happy first birthday, lexi

nothing feels better and happier than my dog lying straight across my feet, her favorite position while i am in bed and its cold outside. i’ve been in my bright yellow with cherries pajamas for the whole day and i would be happy to be in them for another day or two if only i could.  it’s my dog, lexi’s first birthday, it’s truly a miracle how the time has gone by so quickly, ok, well it feels like it now. oh, don’t think I have forgotten the early days, no, no, no, believe me i haven’t. i remember the tearful puppy days when i cried out for help.  “she’s just a puppy”  my dear online friends would say soothingly and that was true but an active, stubborn and willful puppy with the strength of an ox. my family of friends would coo, “chew toys are good” but nothing was safe in our house from this fierce princess, our little warrior. furniture legs were eaten, chairs, tissues, my husband’s computer toys, sixty dollars, pants, shirts and sentimental items from the past. our arms and legs were riddled with red welts as lexi would grab on to our hands or legs, bite them with her sharp teeth and would not let go. there was always someone screaming from pain in our house.

Little Lexi

Little Lexi

Lexi

now, lexi, has a new habit she howls in the back. is it joy, is it for attention, does she spot an animal. we think it’s for sport. she looks like a young deer, red and long, she howls like a wolf. we just don’t know why she does this but i can practically see her grinning like a young teenager getting a real kick out of annoying her parents. i’ve seen that look before, many times.

i remember the first time i saw her it was love at first sight. she was curled up at the shelter, probably drugged, fast asleep having been shipped from north carolina or south. i thought she was mellow, she sure had me fooled. my best friend sarah drove and i had gone just to look, i had been at several shelters before but i knew i needed another dog in my life after my first dog, callie, died of pancreatic cancer. i was missing a part of myself, i think this made me a dog person officially. when i adopted lexi i told her that lexi has two mommys since sarah was there with me. i called my husband from the shelter to prepare him, he was not as enthused as me. he could easily have waited several years before we adopted another dog. i said “congratulations, it’s a girl” he answered with with a wry laugh. after 24 years of marriage he’s used to me by now.

i had a healthy, active puppy. the way a puppy should be. our last dog was very scared and timid and probably had been abused, all she wanted was to be comforted in my lap. i didn’t know what a real, healthy, energetic puppy was like. i learned quickly to substitute toys and the miracle of ice cubes but this girl was too fast for anyone. it has been quite the year with our girl. once in a while she still jumps on people with delight and we are working on that. this puppy is ridiculously strong, even second mommy and daddy agree so there have been times, like when we go to the vet, (she loves it there) she will drag me and all the people at the vet just shake their heads and laugh at me. we’re working on that too, suggestions are welcome. i believe she understands the command “come”” but it has to be followed with the word “cookie” that’s just so me. right? when there is someone outside our door lexi is our great protector, she barks and growls angrily and furiously, she becomes mean and proprietary.

at the end of the day, when the lights are off, having lexi in the house is comforting and sweet. not only did we find each other, we saved each other.

happy first birthday, lex. i love you bunches.

love, original mom

You Just Can’t Fight Crazy

Matti

Matti (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

People don’t always get along, that’s a given. Some people cringe at confrontation and try to hide their heads under the mattress to avoid dealing with it or slither away to swimmingly escape the idea of a fight. I don’t mind verbal fighting as long as it is a fair fight. If the parameters are clear, I will not shy away; I don’t seek fights but I am willing to defend myself or anyone I love for the right reasons. Fairness and honesty are incredibly important to me. “Just don’t lie to me” I used to tell my children when they were teenagers (not that it was a hundred percent successful.) It’s the Libra in me, I’m sure, needing balance and honesty, hating dishonesty with a passion.

There are times when, as a friend of mine is experiencing, you find yourself in the middle of a situation where you have NO control. Her son and daughter in law have decided, without explanation, that  Grandma and Grandpa can not see their children anymore. No reason, no explanation. Grandma is absolutely heartbroken, confused and in shock. There was no explanation, that to me, is not a fair fight. She has tried numerous times, to try to talk to them, to understand what she did but they won’t talk. She took care of their two girls when they were both working full-time and when the parents picked up the kids, the kids would cry and did not want to leave their grandmother’s house. That is a key issue, in my opinion.

Personally, I think, the mom was jealous of the kids’ warm and loving connection to their grandmother, maybe the daughter in law demanded that the husband make a choice between his mom and his wife? That is pure conjecture on my part but it seems feasible, doesn’t it?  The son, apparently used to be very close to his mother.”It’s either her or me” comes to mind and guess who lost? Grandma did and she was not even allowed to see or talk to her granddaughters again without knowing why. She had Valentine’s Day cards she had bought in advance and presents. Even worse, her daughter-in-law is pregnant with a boy and she fears she will never even meet this new grandchild.

They won’t talk to her, answer her e-mails, they literally have cut her out of their lives. It is an unfair, unbalanced fight. I think it is absolutely cruel. Intentionally cruel. They want to make her suffer and they have succeeded. Having loving, involved grandparents is an absolute gift and yet the parents won’t even TALK to the grandparents to make things right again. Not even an e-mail. Grandma and Grandpa don’t even KNOW what they have done wrong, ( or more likely if they have done anything wrong.) This was a large, connected and loving family, celebrating birthdays and holidays together, now it is in fragments; all the rest of the family on Grandma’s side.

There are times in all our lives when things are unjust and even Libras like myself have to accept, take it in and let it go. Life IS unfair sometimes. We have to accept that people are sometimes too stubborn or too sick and too hurtful to be rational. Apparently, the couple are not even thinking about their own children who must feel abandoned by their grandmother and grandfather who loved them and cared for them daily. Grandma has no way of telling them that she still loves them and misses them. As hard as it is, she has no choice but to accept this horrible deal. There is nothing else she can do. They won’t let her. It is literally breaking her heart, she cries endlessly and can only talk about this one topic. She knows “she can’t fight crazy” but that doesn’t mean she has stopped fighting and has accepted her life.  I almost wish she would.

Smooch, Smooch, Kiss, Kiss

My Little Golden Dictionary, 1949

My Little Golden Dictionary, 1949 (Photo credit: m kasahara)

This morning, on Valentine’s Day, the first person I saw was my dog. I was so happy to see her that I wished her a Happy Valentine’s Day out loud and yes, we kissed. Valentine’s Day gets too much press in this country, it really does. I’m waiting for the haters to say “that’s because you’re single blah blah blah” but, I am not single, in fact today is my 25th engagement anniversary. My husband proposed to me (sigh) in Hawaii, 25 years ago. Yes, we’re still together.

I just don’t like a holiday where you know that some people feel miserable because they are alone. Hell, why not have an Unmarried Day when all those who single can celebrate and all the married people can keep chewing their stringy pot roast with undercooked egg noodles? Why isn’t there THAT kind of holiday? Let’s keep it equal people.

Before I got married I too was single and I remember feeling miserable on Valentine’s Day, thinking I would never find that special someone to share my life with and woe is me, I would be alone. I know several people who are single and they are NOT alone. They have plenty of friends (more than I do) family and they have wonderful, enriched lives. I understand their pain, I truly do. I’ve been there, done that but looking back it was just a night of sitting in my rocking chair with a spoon and a pint of my favorite flavor of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, watching whatever girl movie I wanted to watch. The pain was in the loss of hope, that I would never meet anyone who I could love or who could love me and yes, that was extremely difficult. Even now, do you think we are not aware of  potential loss in the pit of our stomachs, every single day and night?

Valentine’s Day, a very commercial holiday for Hallmark, chocolate makers, flower stores and for some people (me not being one of them) expensive jewelry stores. I know my husband loves me, and he knows I love him too. We say we love each other often, we don’t need a special day to remind us. We also don’t need presents but because today is special for years  we decided to celebrate and go out for a nice (not a rip-off) dinner. I hate the fact that on Valentine’s day, Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day the same food you would have eaten the day before has increased by at least another ten or twenty dollars. I just want the fudge brownie, I don’t care HOW it’s shaped.

You know when I loved Valentine’s Day the most? When my children were really little, they would come home, clutching in their hands a Valentine made in school, encouraged by teachers for “Mommy.”and “Daddy.” Was it forced, sentimental and incredibly mushy? Yes it was and I LOVED it. I bet it would be hard to find a mom who didn’t. I truly miss that. But, then again, I could make that universal, I do miss when my children were really, really young and that the only things important to them was their dad and me. I admit it, once in a while, I miss that feeling and those feelings will never come back albeit in memories.

Just Write-Rebecca Dickson

“I wanted to know that he would be okay if I died. I wanted to not be a grenade, to not be a malevolent force in the lives of people I loved.”Since we all knew I had incurable cancer there was no shock involved.  I knew he loved me and I loved him back, that just wasn’t the point. When you have cancer and you were young, you stop talking about how many years you have left or what I’m going to miss because it is just so totally irrelavent. It’s life, literally, day by day.You’ve thought it through so much and it takes up so much space in your brain that at some point you need to quit thinking and just go on with every minute. Even if just means you’re going to brush your teeth or throw up in the sick,or return a fucking book to the library, it has to be present tense.

It’s harder on my parents, I can’t help that and I’m trying to prepare them for me leaving them behind but honestly I didn’t ask for this and they didn’t want me to have this, I KNOW THAT. I WISH I didn’t have it but I do so we can’t make anyone of us feel better. It sucks, it just sucks and it probably will for a while. All I care about is the pain, I don’t want any pain, I just want to float away as soon as the pain starts and my doctor and my parents have promised me that I could have that. They better stick to to their promise because I will be one cranky, nasty bitch with cancer eating at my bones and no pain meds. I’m talking heavy meds like morphine or whatever they have that is stronger.I don’t care if I see angels or Disney character floating above me, if it means no pain, I’ll take it.

I want to be able to eat jelly doughnuts if I can, and a friend of mine just told me that they have Almond Joy ice cream which I must have before I kick the bucket so I need to send someone out there to find it fast. I want milkshakes every day, each day a different flavor. I mean if I only have a few weeks to live, I want to enjoy it. If I stop enjoying it than I want them to put me out, turn me off like my nightstand bed lamp. Just click.

I’m Older Than That Now

Portrait from India 15

Portrait from India 15 (Photo credit: Zuhair Ahmad)

A new, younger friend, was hesitant to write her feelings down on paper.

Why not? I thought.

And then I remembered and rejoiced in that knowledge.

I’m too old for games, I wrote,
but I can understand why you would be hesitant.
I was like that too, at your age.
I now have the freedom not to care what others think.
Freedom not to even think about what others think, not to hesitate, just say what’s on my mind, politely.
What a luxury, a new luxury  that I had taken for granted. A gift. A heavenly gift.
I never realized it before until the younger one said “I thought about it but I didn’t say anything”
I had forgotten that hesitancy until I was reminded of it.
It’s like inhaling a deep breath, holding it in and effortlessly letting it go,
letting it seep into all the crevices of life, be it ocean or wind, or water.
Drifting aimlessly like a freed red kite among the unencumbered blue sky.
I have earned this.
This is my gift to myself.
I will pride myself on not dyeing my hair, for the few strands that are gray and white,
I will wear them with authenticity.
I will continue to throw back my head with my hair long and laugh.
There really is wisdom, joy and freedom in older age.
Even, especially if you don’t seek it;
it will find you.
Keep your heart open to receiving that gift.

Life is too short to work so hard. (Carry on Tuesday)

English: Throughput Accounting Chart

English: Throughput Accounting Chart (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

“Oh my God, Mom, Dad, I’m trying, I told you like a hundred times but the only advice you give me is to find something I’m really interested in. I have no idea.  Oprah, every talk show host on television says “Life is too short so love what you do.”  Well, I don’t KNOW what I love to do, not everybody in the world knows, right?  I mean, I can’t be the only one, can I?

Look, you don’t think I’m envious of Jimmy down the street who knew at age nine that he wanted to be a doctor? Sure. But, it was easy for him, his father and mother are both doctors and he just followed them. Besides, there was never any question that he wouldn’t. Jimmy never had a mind of his own. I mean, really. Both his parents are podiatrists, gee, guess what field Jimmy is going to go into? Yup, feet. Dirty, smelly, old feet. Believe me, I’m NOT jealous, geez, why would I be? He’s always been a serious loser. C’mon Mom, you used to say that too, admit it.

Just because I don’t agree with you guys doesn’t mean I am being a “fresh mouth” and I don’t know what TONE you think I am using with you. How about let’s ALL take a deep breath. Okay. Do you think I like living with my parents at age 23? No, I don’t. But, what are you gonna do, are you gonna kick me out? YOU ARE? THAT IS SO MEAN. Oh, not yet but soon. I know the temp jobs I have been working at aren’t stable but like I said, I don’t know what to do and you guys said graduate school is out of the question.

I have said many times that I don’t want to be an accountant like Dad or a substitute teacher like mom. Dad, please listen and don’t get mad, I flunked every math class I ever took and you know I’ve always switched numbers around in my head, like dyslexia but not with words, with numbers. No, it is so true, my teacher told me it was a real condition. Anyway, I know you have been doing it for forty years and it makes a good salary but Dad, you don’t love what you are doing. Right? I mean honestly? I know you have the responsibility of taking care of the family and feeding us and all that and I admire you for that, but do you really want me to have the same life you have? I mean, really? Life is too short to work so hard that you dread going in every single day. Daddy, I thank you for doing this but I don’t want to do the same thing.

Maybe you can help me figure out what to do? Mom? You too. Please? I know I’m 23 but that doesn’t mean I’m all grown-up. It just means that I’m lost and afraid and older and believe me it makes me feel horrible and stupid. I still need you guys. A lot. It’s nice of you to say that I’m very smart and talented but I don’t feel that way at all, I feel insecure and stupid. So, yes, I would appreciate if we could all sit down and talk about options. Oh that? I knew you wouldn’t really kick me out the door. But, thanks for saying it.”

Haiku Heights – Red

pink roses

pink roses (Photo credit: srqpix)

I saw blood, soaked, rags

flint made, exploding anger

Couple burst in flames.

***

The last page written

in smudged charcoal,  painter’s ink

news, her last good-bye.

***

Into the dark night

a bird whistle blows softly

Red and black beak cry.

***

A blush of pink rose

Happy Valentine’s Day, love

Just let me whisper.