Haiku Heights-Dew

English: dew on grass Français : rosée sur une herbe Español: Rocío sobre el cesped (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Translucent drops glow

Sunshine laughs, rain kissed

strands of grass, blessed, pray.

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Rainbow specks, water

glisten on yellow tulips

Somewhere horses play.

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Banker horses (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Plinky Prompt: When was the ( FIRST) last time you really stood out in a crowd?

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  Horses (Photo credit: Moyan_Brenn_BE_BACK_IN_SEPTEMBER)

  

• When was the last time you really stood out in a crowd? Are you comfortable in that position, or do you wish you could fade into the woodwork? See all answers

• Edit answer |
• August 31, 2013 by hibernationnow

• The Cactus Rock Lodge, AZ.

• I was one of those painfully shy children with a bold and charismatic mother and my sister who demanded all the attention. But, deep inside me there must have been a spark, a tiny little spark just waiting to be ignited. It’s a story that changed my life forever.
  My family and I were on a vacation to a Dude Ranch in Arizona for the first time. It was NOTHING fancy back then but they called milk “moo juice” and pancakes were “hotcakes” and it was the first time I had ever eaten them, soft and sweet with syrup.  They had a few horses, I remember a white one named “Granny” that I would take care of and eventually ride. Everybody was friendly and homey and like a big ol’ family.
  The owners’ names were Helen and Mac, one night they passed around a microphone to everyone in the room so they could introduce themselves, say their name, age and where they came from.
  Soon enough they came to our table and after my mom, dad and sister introduced themselves, my mother spoke up and said about me “oh no, she’s too shy.” I can feel that moment now as I felt it back then. A split second life changing moment. Should I or shouldn’t I?
  I grabbed the microphone from my mother and marched my six-year-old backside to the center of the room. I remember Mac said something encouraging to me, with admiration. I was a little pip squeak with a very short pixie cut and twinkling blue eyes. I said “I’m Laurie, I’m 6 years old and I’m from New York.”
  Wow, what a response!! Everybody clapped and hooted and hollered and Mac looked as proud as can be and he asked for another round of applause for this “brave young lady.” The look of shock on my mother’s face was worth every second and I’m sure that was half the fun at the very least though I am not sure I was conscious of that at the time. That day changed my life or rather, I changed my life that evening.
  It definitely lay dormant for many years but in the back of my mind, I always knew that deep down was a little girl just waiting to state her independence and to show people she could dazzle; in her own time, when SHE was ready. To this day, never, ever, tell her what she can and cannot do because she is a stubborn woman!

• UPDATE: FWF
• Through the years, I realized what my mother and father had always said about me was true. Sure, I was emotional and sensitive and could cry at the drop of a hat, at anything sentimental, old photographs of her children, a crayon drawing she had kept for fifteen years, an old birthday card from her dad. But, deep down, I knew, as my parents had always told me, beyond the emotional exterior, I was very, very strong. Like steel. That has helped me in so many ways I have lost count. My sister who had all the false bravado is no where near as strong as I am in these things, she is strong in other things. But, my parents, as if giving me the greatest gift of all, gave me the knowledge of confidence when I needed it most.

Where Is Your Favorite Place To Drive? Plinky Prompt

Image by Kris *V* via Flickr

• My Favorite Place to Drive
• “Take Me Home, Country Roads”
  Volkswagon Beetle 

  I would be driving on country roads, passing mooing cows and prancing chestnut horses. I would drive slowly past the dancing goats and the green grass vibrant with color and misty with dew. I would be in my (fantasy) yellow Volkswagon Beetle. I would have the windows down as the warm air breathed life into my hair and skin. Of course, my favorite music would be blasting. I would listen to old tunes, James Taylor, Simon and Garfunkel, Joni Mitchell and my new favorite, Josh Radin. My dog would be in the seat next to me and I would talk to her and she would be stretching her face into a broad smile. Two bottles of water would sit next to me for when we both got thirsty. The trees would be in bloom, it’s the height of Spring, daffodils have sprouted and so too exuberant tulips in red, pink, white and yellow. I would stop for a picnic because everything tastes better outdoors and I would lie in the grass, on my back and let the soothing sun kiss my face my face and body.

Permission

I am a newborn foal, a furry white rabbit with pink eyes, an adorable black, white and tan 6 week old puppy curled inside a warm hand; a 19-year-old dying cat. I am someone’s life-long companion and friend; I give unconditional love. I have meant more to some people than most friends. I am a pet.

The 19-year-old cat was laid to rest a few days ago. She was a well-loved cat who slept with her owner and gave her happiness every day, all the time and especially when times were tough. They were each others comfort. When the cat lay dying, her mother/owner gave her one last precious gift. She ended the long journey with pain and put her out of the miserable, uncomfortable life she had known for many years. It was probably the hardest thing she has had to do in a very long time but she did it for me and I know how hard that must have been. Letting go of someone or something you love is never easy. Never.

I know; I speak from experience. Letting someone go is sometimes the truest test of love.  I gave that permission to my dad when he lay dying in the hospital and was just clinging on by a very weak thread so delicate it was almost like a fiber. I talked to his nurse and told him to give my dad a secret message that included it was “okay to let go” and that “we would all take care of each other,” my mom, my sister and I. He died 20 minutes later. Do I believe he heard the message and felt it? I do; I have to.

The pain of life is like a current that runs through all of us. Sometimes the current is low, sometimes it’s very high. We need people, friends, family, pets, something to believe in to help us get through the challenges and the losses we face in life. Life changes so fast it’s hard to keep up, but we have no choice but to try;  it’s hard to do it all alone.  No matter who we choose to love, no matter what. Sometimes, we all need a little help and mostly, not always, it is ours for the asking; and it is ours for the taking.

We are buoyed by our loved ones when life is down, and when life is up, we sing together in joyful harmony. Life, though, is not just about the good times, really, it’s about how we cope, who we lean on and who we love. It is about joy and sorrow.  It is knowing when to love and knowing when to let go. It is hard and painful and exuberant and joyful, every day there is some surprise.  Just try to “ride the waves” a friend once told me, up and down and never, let go, until you have to and you will know,deep inside, when the time is right.

For my friend: Michal.  In Memory of Dusty.