Plinky Prompt: Tell us about a thing you’ll never write about:

secret & oublié

secret & oublié (Photo credit: andrefromont/fernandomort)

  • Never, Not A Chance
  • A best friend’s secret. The definition of a best friend is to be able to have someone who you can trust entirely. If my best friend told me something that was very sensitive and made for a good story, I wouldn’t write about it…even if someone wanted to pay for the story…( well, okay I would think about changing the names and situation! just kidding ) A secret is a secret, you don’t talk about it, gossip about it, write or whisper about it. What you do with a secret is keep it safe, tucked away securely in your heart. Secret?
    What secret? I have no idea what you are talking about…

Haiku Heights – Betrayal

Sadness

Sadness (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

You stabbed me with words,

Emotional betrayal

Blood drips forever.

*************************

Dark, cruel side, unknown

I trusted your heart as mine

Your kindness, a joke.

**************************

Haiku Heights-Pain

A Pain That I'm Used To

A Pain That I’m Used To (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

A knife through my hand

crimson blood pouring out fast

A heart, numb, frozen.

*****

No contact, no love

Babies without touch, react

Doubt, afraid, for life.

*****

Your breath near mine, close

the beat of our hearts, different

Tears tell our story.

*****

Brittle bones, swollen

raw, excruciating pain

A Fibro Flare Up.

Sadness 90/365

Sadness 90/365 (Photo credit: SashaW)

*****

Alone, we will be

No guarantee in life, death

Be at peace with One.

Carry on Tuesday: Where there is love there is life

Angel of Light

Angel of Light (Photo credit: the twinkling of an eye)

My upcoming birthday is in two days, yes, that’s right in two days. I do keep track of time, today is  11/11, my youngest daughter’s favorite time (at night) and favorite date and month. I remember she was thrilled when it was 11.11.11. I think that one of her old friends got married  on 11/11, have no idea of the date but it was a very long time ago, I remember driving my daughter to her house and getting the phone call. You know the one, the one where she says one thing that is code for “please pick me up NOW.”

I know she did that for her own kids, my grandchildren. Her first boy was like her, a little tentative, I had patience but their grandmother (he said  chuckling) “no way.” I remember she growled at him “Get back to bed” and he was scared after that, poor thing. The little one, the girl, “Principessa”, I called her in Italian, she decided to sleep over at 2 and a half, no pajamas, no doll, no toys and sure enough, she did. Slept through the night, oh, this one was going to be a world traveler, just like her grandmother. There was some bond between those two from the second she was born. I felt a closer bond with the boy, he was more like his mom, and like me, a little scared, “we were no heroes.” My daughter used to hide in the dark and scare me when she still lived at home, I didn’t know till many years later that she was more afraid of the dark than I ever was. She begged her own children not to scare her, ever. The things we learn over time; the things we all hide.

This is important: Our physical bodies die, yes, but not our spirits. Never our spirits and NEVER our love for you who are still on earth. My daughter believes that, she likes a message from me now and then and I send them to her when she needs them most. My wife, her mom, she is scared of messages, doesn’t really believe so I’m very gentle with her. She had a really hard life, I knew her best and defended her but no one else really did. In our family, my youngest was just like me and my eldest daughter was just like her mother, that’s why it’s been harder for “the little one.” I get it. That, I can’t change, that she needs to deal with on her own, like the grown-up she is. Her mother and I always used to say, “she’s sweet on the outside but don’t ever forget, inside she is steel.” “She can handle anything.” She always did, I wish she could remember that more often, but that too, she needs to learn and relearn.

There is an expression that I have heard even when I was living on earth, “where there is love, there is life” I’m here to explain that. Once there is love, there is ALWAYS love. Love. Does. Not. Die. How could it? Why would we stop loving you any less in  the after life than you would stop loving us? It doesn’t make sense, right? We want you to go on in your lives, to be happy, to know that our physical bodies are healed but also know, we will never forget you just like you won’t forget us. Remember, as your love for us continues, our love for you does too. Keep your hearts open to everything good. Remember always, we love you back, and watch over you, always. p.s. To my little one, I appreciate your birthday wishes but please don’t be sad. Love, Dad

Haiku Heights – Witch

witch hat

witch hat (Photo credit: snarledskein)

Pickled chin, red wart

Sparks from eye balls attacking

Happy Halloween!

*****

Which witch is that witch?

A good witch or a bad witch?

Can we ever know?

*****

Which witch are you, dear?

“I won’t tell anybody

Find me with your heart.”

Haiku Heights – Home

English: Love heart

English: Love heart (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In my sleep, afraid

my foot searches for his leg

I sigh with relief.

******************************************************

A short visit home

Daughter pops out of her car

Running for a hug

**********************************************************

Her tail wags with joy

dog dashes and jumps on me

rust- colored, grinning.

**************************************************************************

My heart is a pool

for those that I love dearly

Keep each other warm.

**************************************************************************

 

Plinky Prompt: Which Do You Prefer….White, Milk or Dark Chocolate?

  • Mmmm, Chocolate
  • My Heart Belongs To……….
    Lindt Lindor I started off loving white chocolate as a girl until it reminded me of butter and the thrill of that was gone….it isn’t EVEN chocolate kept sticking in my mind so I don’t like it anymore. Thanks for the memories, though.
    After that it was milk chocolate or NOTHING. I adore milk chocolate, I think it’s sweet and sensual and truly there is nothing better than having a Lindt milk chocolate ball melt in your mouth slowly. It’s a tiny slice of heaven each and every time (and no, I am not paid by Lindt chocolates.) However, since I have been on my healthy living diet, I have cut out a lot of sweets, most sweets actually. Now, my indulgence at night is a square or two of dark chocolate. (I know, I know!!!) I can hardly believe it myself, but it’s true. Things that I had eaten before (not to mention Twinkies and Snowballs, on occasion) I can’t even touch. Milk chocolate is even too sweet.
    So, for the moment I would have to choose dark chocolate but deep inside, I do feel like a traitor. While my body eats dark chocolate now, my heart belongs to milk chocolate, no doubt about it.

Gratitude (Chronic Babe Blog Carnival) November

Heart bokeh 2

Most everyone in our caring Chronic Pain community knows that the last three months has found my family renting a small room in a small hotel having been harshly betrayed and ousted from our house by termites, carpenter ants, and completely rotted wood. Everywhere. What started as a simple kitchen renovation became the nightmare you would imagine in a horror movie. That horror show was mine. At the very same time, my husband ruptured his Achilles Tendon while running to catch a train. It’s like one of those scary novels some people read so when you are finished reading you can clap the book shut and be thankful that the book is over and you can return to your own life. Not this time.

Facing emotional, physical and possible financial ruin for the house (no, insurance did not pay a dime) I had to adjust to our new circumstances and yes, I did cry a lot. But, in order to maintain my sanity and hold it together I decided, with a lot of pushing and prodding, that I needed to focus on something, anything positive. I was grateful that we didn’t have life-threatening diseases to deal with in a hospital. Truly, I gave thanks for that every day, sometimes every hour because while the situation we were in was uncomfortable and sad and draining, no one would die because of it (although we all felt terribly violated). I felt bad for my daughter, a senior in high school, who had to room with her parents on an uncomfortable cot in the same room. I felt bad for my husband, on crutches, non weight-bearing, hobbling around the room. I even felt bad for myself who got the brunt of everyone’s dissatisfaction. I managed. I even found the strength to drive my son to his first day of college and back, all by myself; I even felt proud ( because if you knew my sense or lack of sense of direction I’m lucky to be back home now.) IF I HAD TO, I COULD DO ANYTHING; a great lesson to learn.

Of course I wept, and I was cranky and felt sorry for us but that wouldn’t do me any good for three months, nor would it help my family, especially my husband who was bed -ridden or on crutches for most of the time, unable to work. I needed to know that, despite my own intense pain and flare-ups from Fibromyalgia and an auto-immune disease (Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis) I could do what I HAD to do. I was grateful I could do it even if I paid for it later on. It didn’t matter. When my husband had to be pushed up a hill in a transport, I was the one who did it. I don’t know where I got the strength but my mind and my guts and my determination became my strength and my shaking knees and shoulders made me even more determined to get up that hill. I managed and it felt good, my husband smiled and was impressed and I was happy too. All that talk about doing things for others? It is so right on.

I was grateful that I could help my husband, he who has always, ALWAYS helped me. I wanted to show him  that I could help him too. I’m not saying it was easy, it wasn’t. But, it was well worth the effort for the internal strength I got from within. It was worth seeing the smile on his face, the kindness of strangers who helped me manage the steps. It is a person that has heart and knows kindness. I’m convinced now more than ever, you either have it or you don’t.  You don’t necessarily need to know people for a very long time to know who they are. They will show themselves to you, very quickly, just watch and listen.

That new study that showed people had their own friends and considered Facebook Friends, also friends for support and trust? I am totally grateful for all my different types of friends because they can not be grouped, in just one group. My Facebook Friends, they are a special bunch, very dear to my heart. I hope I have told them enough times that they truly believe it. Gratitude? It comes from within. I sprinkle bits of my heart in my e-mails to my Facebook friends. From mine to yours and back. I’m grateful.

What Would YOU Take?

Pieces of Eight

I am copying this theme from two of my good friends, Mo (Mo is Blogging, I think and Judith: Creativity to the Max) Read their answers on their blogs.

There’s a blog dedicated to that very subject created by Foster Huntington.  Here’s a bit of what he says about his blog:“The Burning House” showcases photos and lists of the things people would take with them if their house was burning. The project is a little over a month old and so far has received over three hundred submissions!”      

Read More of Foster Huntington’s interview on  http://www.gq.com/style/blogs/the-gq-eye/2011/06/something-different-the-burning-house.html#ixzz1WOJsaa4y

I had to face this for real since our house is unlivable because of various horrible problems, think mold, carpenter ants, rotting wood etc. Before Hurricane Irene came and before my husband’s surgery we stopped at our house to dash in and get certain things. This is my list….

Went through that just two days ago with the Hurricane on the East Coast. Not to mention that our house is unlivable, literally so we are in one room in a hotel. I took my old stuffed  yellow and black monkey,  (Nokey because I couldn’t say Monkey) that my dad bought for me on my 2nd birthday, I took a necklace with good luck charms that my dad used to wear when he was alive, a favorite black and white picture of my mother, laughing, many years ago on a beach in Israel,  I took a photo of my daughter and me when we were on Cape Cod, when she was little, something my son found for me: a piece of wood with the number 8 (that number was always special, some day I may reveal it’s significance) on it, and his picture, my computer and books. I will not be able to move back for months but the immediacy of Irene made me make a choice. I chose things that could not be replaced in my heart. I don’t know when I will be able to go back home, it could be months. I have the things I need right now, but I miss having a home.