Jelly Beans, Low Blood Pressure And Artichoke Hearts

Here it is, free style writing the title: three words that came to mind and now I am just typing without thinking about it or looking at/correcting it. I am not reading  sentence by sentence I am considering this as a writing exercise. I’ve heard writers do this twice a day but I don’t think I have the fortitude for that. Besides, I am getting really tired and loopy and God knows what will be on this page when I finish.

Gray-white scottish terriers

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prancing in their kilts, Mrs. Kelly probably planning her St. Patrick’s day party already. I have known two wonen of Irish descent and we don’t mix well, I wonder why.I don’t think it’s a religious thing at all, maybe our astrological signs are so differente. But, the two women have similar traits , coldness, showing no emotion, blank. Just a coincidence.

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Everyone knows I wear my heart on my sleeve, the complete opposite of that and sometimes I really need to shut up. I say too much lately and I need to control my mouth. Lately words come out that I used to edit and censore and for a few months I’m slipping, something to work on like mindful meditation twice a week.

2015 the year of me, writing, not being afraid of so many things, gratitude

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of my relationship with my daughter that was so hard for so many years. My son, is as always sweet and lovable.

I worry about my mother and think about bad things too much, Ebola and bad diseases and worrying about things I have no control over, what’s the use of worrying if you haven o control? Exactly, useless. Stop.

I want to invent something, sell a script, write a book, try to remember things with attention to detail. Like names, I will ay it outloud several times or in my head. I will make a list and write about 2014 as it comes to an end. And we will say, as we do every year, 2014 was a horrible year and that next year 2015 will be much better. Truthfully, we’ve been saying that for years. Here’s hoping.

Buying A Purple Shirt While Eating Jelly Beans

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This is the kind of post you want to read on a Monday afternoon when the clouds are all gray and gloomy and it is the start of a brand new week. The orange-green-red leaves on the trees are swaying and they look like they want to cry. I’m thinking about the future and living somewhere else where the sun stays out all day and you don’t have to wear a thick black jacket.  The only perk today is that our house is clean and it looks pretty. There are no cobwebs that I can see and the wood shines like a Pledge commercial. It smells lemony and the beds are made and the sheets are fresh and I am planning to take a hot bath tonight. It’s against house rules to put your dirty body into a brand new made-up bed with sheets and blankets that beckon you and smile.

It’s our friend Christina’s 16th birthday and she looked so sweet and innocent and happy like a shiny polished Macintosh apple. My son drives her to school and back every day along with his sister seated proudly in the front seat. Christina was wearing the soft beige scarf that my daughter gave her for her birthday. Her arms were packed with brownies and oatmeal cookies and chocolate cake that her school friends made for her birthday celebration. Oh to be young, filled with sweetness, innocence and incomparable joy. I see myself in young Christina, all eager and willing to please, her arms outstretched for a big, warm, hug.

I’m listening to music to quell the anxiety that has been plaguing me for the last week. It starts in the late afternoon and escalates until nighttime; my stomach clenches and my legs ache with unbearable pain. My aches and pains stem from stubborn, bossy, Fibromyalgia and sleep comes as a welcome relief.

I’ve taken down all the photographs of my children when they were very young and replaced them with an up-to-date picture of the two of them grinning, their eyes alive with mischief; my son’s arm casually draped around his sister’s shoulders. I had to beg and plead a lot for that one portrait. While I am extremely proud of my children’s independence I have had a few problems lately adjusting to it.  I can’t forget the moment last year when my son said patiently “Mom, High School is one big lie.” It is a message that has been burned into my brain and I think of it often.  I didn’t believe him then but I do now. Apparently, lies are commonplace but I need to force myself to look deeper, for honor, and not compare my past, unhappy and burdened youth to their present, over-indulged happy lives.

I am booking a massage at the local spa, a gift I received for my birthday, and I am looking forward to it. There, I will not think of the last year, tension pressed up against stress like two sweaty lovers: unemployment and illness together as one.  I will fantasize about traveling, seeing the tulips in Holland, a trip to Israel in the spring, perhaps the countryside of Spain. I will picture my loving husband’s face, his hand in mine, playing the punch buggy game in the car and competing in the “I love you more” contest. I will remember that when I asked him for a phrase, another definition for “empty nest” he threw his head back, howled loudly, with glee and in a snap of a second he shouted: “Freedom.” I love him so much in many ways but I especially love him for giving me that.

Dedicated to Danny

The Jellybean Dinner

December 20, 2009

Last night my children and I had dinner together upstairs in our bedroom. My husband was off to Western Mass. to bring our “lovey”  dog to his parents for Camp Callie.  Usually,  If we go away our sensitive dog, Callie,  stays at home and our neighbors and friends come in to feed her and walk her but this time the grandparents wanted to have the dog and take care of her. She loves them.

My son was in an absolutely celebratory mood, a Junior in High School, he also works every day after school, with the exception of “off limits Fridays.”  He came home happy, haven gotten a Christmas bonus from our lovely neighbors and he was thrilled. As a mom, I of course was thrilled for him. In addition to money they also gave him a huge selection of jelly bellies and a box of chocolate for the family.  Quite a lovely and thoughtful gift from his employers (our neighbors!)

I gave Tim money to get dinner for us and he went to his favorite place, Villarina’s, to buy some wraps for Jillian and for me. I can’t begin to express the love and fun that was at the meal as the three of us crowded around my bed as we ate and talked. We were excited becauae we were going away for a few days to Aruba, something that Tim had been looking forward to and had not been able to go for years.One of his closest friends, Aaron goes almost every holiday to visit his grandmother.   Our moods were bright with the promise of tomorrow and without the more formal seating of the kitchen table.

For pre-D, (pre-dessert)  Tim opened up his box of assorted jelly beans and started tasting them and of course, threw some to Jillian and to me. There was  laughter and joy and warmth I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. I felt like I hadn’t had this opportunity to just be with the kids for a long time. After all, I had been sick for almost two years. Look at what I had missed!!! The jellybean dinner was the payoff. The opportunity to be with my two teenagers as we laughed, and teased each other and caught up on some old memories. This was worth more than any expensive dinner I could have gone too. This was living; this is what I was meant to do with my life. My life goal.

I was home, with both children around me, not stressed, and full of fun. for a holiday wish, you just can’t get better than this: a memory of fun, closeness,love and warmth and yes, at least 50 different flavors of jelly beans. Happy Holidays to all!