I’ve been so fortunate to be able to spend a few days with my daughter at a pool, basking in the sun. Look how the sun reflects he ripples of the water and on this woman’s legs. You don’t actually need to see “YELLOW” for it to make you happy.
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.
You’re a movie star. What foods/items do you request for your dressing room? See all answers
- My Contract Rider
- Get ME This, Get ME That
Mini orchid flowers Sigh, do I have to answer this AGAIN? Damn it, this should have been handled by my PEOPLE a long time ago. LIKE I SAID, I want medium sized jelly beans, (and NOT spiced jelly beans) in a pretty crystal bowl that has a cover so they don’t get stale.( I HATE when that f–king happens), 2 bottles of iced Perrier, two egg salad sandwiches (if there’s peel in that sandwich I will not go on stage. A humidifier. My down comforter in yellow. Fresh flowers every day, mini-orchids (but YOU should Know that!) My puppy. My best friend when I ask for him/her. A swimming pool/steam room (I don’t care where we are filming, do it!!) Christmas lights strung around the dressing room,( white twinkling lights only), a jade plant, 5 silk eye masks and cucumber/strawberry platters. No alcohol allowed, except for a bottle of champagne, chilled, all the time. Plus 2 pitchers of fresh orange juice. Malted milk balls, a massage therapist on call 24/7 and sugar cookie (not vanilla) aromatherapy piped into the air ducts. That will be all. For now.
- Beach or pool? Why? See all answers
- Going For A Swim
- Beach Girl
Ocean Wave Beach. The feel of the sand under my feet, walking slowly in the sun, looking for seashells. The thrill of the ocean (and the fear of the sharks) jumping over the waves, being a part of Nature. Sure, it is a little risky, it’s a little cold but there is no better feeling for me than diving under a huge wave and jumping over the rest; knowing when to jump and when to swim. It’s always held power over me, I love swimming and walking on the beach. I love watching the waves as they crash. My biggest dream is to live near the ocean. Someday….
- Previous Answer
Don’t give up the fight, Mama. It’s okay to feel anxious but please don’t give up; don’t fall into the rapid hole of deterioration like a black funnel cloud gaining speed. What can I do to keep you from slipping? I will hold your soft downy hands with all of my strength so you don’t go anywhere and you have no choice but to stand up like a strong, red oak tree. I will not let you down; I promise. Have a little faith, accept the bad things that have happened and move past it.
Dad gave up but he had no interest in living anymore because he was so depressed. Do you remember? The light in his blue-gray eyes had been extinguished two years before. He was not the same dad that brought us up, the joking, warm, TWA company guy that took us to eat in the airline terminal. He was not the same husband that protected you and took care of you and adored you and your less than stellar cooking attempts. You “cooked” mashed potatoes out of dehydrated flakes that you poured into a pot and heated with tepid water or with milk. Dad made his own concoctions for dessert: red, strawberry, glistening, jello mixed with canned fruit cocktail and yogurt. To top it off he added applesauce and rainbow sprinkles. He said you were his favorite cook bar none. No restaurant compared to your cooking; that was real love.
He became an old man who had difficulty walking, he shuffled and it was heart-breaking to watch. I was fearful anytime he walked up or down my three front steps that he would fall over. He refused to use a cane, or a walker, his vanity meant more than everything else. At least he had his dignity to the very end. I was lucky to see him when he was still fighting. I was there when the Doctor asked him if he would be “amenable to training so he could use a walker.” He looked up at her and said “NO, Doctor, I am not amenable to that at all!” I remember he wore his white down jacket with the bright red lining inside. I wore that puffy jacket for months after he died. I wear the chain he always wore for luck. I lost daddy years before he died, we all did.
I pray that you will bounce back, mom, and that the pain of the last six months will dissipate forever. You have fallen twice in a short period of time, you broke your wrist and your vertebrae and now we just want to keep your bones strong by taking the drug, “Reclast.” The “drug whose name shall not be mentioned” that gives you nightmares and anxiety attacks and too much fear. You had a vicious bout with a grueling flu that kept you in bed and dehydrated with high temperatures that confused your own doctor. She made you go to the Emergency Room, I met you there. You got through that, now, you have to work through the past to the present and the future. Think about your favorite occupation in the summer time, swimming in your condo’s pool with its chlorinated clear, blue water and the temperature of a warm bath. You will be surrounded by friends, and fans. You will hold court in the shade while people gather around you like the Queen that you know you are.
We all get older but I don’t want to get older without you by my side. You are the first person I call when I have any type of news. You are the one that tells me that beneath my emotional mush, “I am very strong inside, like steel” and sometimes I need to be reminded. Mama, be abrasive or demanding and unreasonable. Really, its fine. You can remind me that I should exercise more and get mad at your grandchildren for not calling often enough.
I am not ready, I never will be ready to give you up. I want to play “tickle fingers” on your hands like we used to do when I was a small child. I want to see the flirtatious woman I know, engaging with everyone you meet because people are drawn to you like moths to light. Don’t forget our famous song by Helen Reddy: “You and Me Against The World.” I will sing it for you if you want but mostly I want to sing it with you.
It’s been a long, long time since I have felt this good. It’s been many long months in fact (if not years), but today I had an absolutely wonderful day. Maybe it’s because of karma, what goes around comes around, something I’ve always believed in but I tend to need reminding. I woke up early, looked at the bright yellow sun on the cloudless brilliant blue sky and knew where I had to go. It was the right day to go to the cemetery, to visit my dad, who passed away 9 years ago. I always go, each year, around Father’s Day out of love and respect but I don’t usually plan when I go; I go when I feel I should. Today was that day.
I bought a plant with tiny red flowers, like heart-shaped kisses, in a pot, wrapped in shiny green aluminum foil and brought it with me to the cemetery. I talked to my dad, out loud, I cried, I asked questions and I implored, all the while cleaning the headstone from old dirty grass and respositioning and cleaning the stones that lay faithfully on his headstone. ” I need your help, Dad, I’ve been so sick (and also, just remember Dan hasn’t worked since September.) Honestly, I just want to feel better and I know you would want that too. Mom’s worried about me too, please help me, please help her.” I asked directly for his help and for a day, today, he showered me with love. Asked and answered, with a great big smile.
Right after the cemetery I drove to my mom’s apartment, a minute away, unannounced and knocked on her door. We ended up spending much of the day together and I felt so pampered. It’s nice, once in a while to be a daughter, to feel like a daughter and not just a mother. My mom took me out to lunch at The Club where I had a beet, mango, fennel salad with goat cheese and pistachios. Heavenly. My mom had a grilled chicken salad sandwich that came on a croissant but I nixed the croissant since she is diabetic and I watch out for her too. We laughed a lot and marveled at the serenity and the gift of the weather, warm, sunny, with a breeze and not too hot; a perfect day.
We went to her condo pool and I sat in the sun, in my mother’s cute black and white bathing suit that she gave me as a present and I felt so pampered, so loved, so taken care of. Thank you. I swam in the pool, I sat and talked to the lounging ladies and when I was ready, I left to go home.
I left to go home to my daughter. My daughter and I had date night where we went to her favorite restaurant, just the two of us. We drank sugary sweet strawberry smoothies and ate brick oven pizza, fresh and hot straight out of the oven. The pizza had chunky tomato pieces and thick mozzarella slices and fresh basil on every slice. Now I am home, reliving the day with happiness, with gratitude.
I know deep down inside I am hoping that tomorrow will be the same and that I will feel really good again and energetic. I would be lying if I didn’t hope for that. But, if I don’t feel that way, at least I will know it is possible. That’s more than I had months ago, that’s more than I had even yesterday and I appreciate it, I truly do.
Dedicated to my mom, who wants me to be happy and healthy as much, or even more, than I do.
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My regular cream cheese complexion has salmon and caviar mixed in. Yes, I am a little sunburned and my freckles, (thousands I never knew I had) are dotted all over my body. My lips look like I have 24/7 lipstick on but the truth of the matter is, they are burned too. After a few days of the potent sun of Aruba, even the palest person can be reinvented.
The palm trees sway to give you the occassional breeze, the ocean is amazingly beautiful but to go in you need a lot of dexterity which I simply don’t have. There are pitfalls and ridges, inclines and declines before you are close enough to get in the water and swim. Once in, however, it is everything you have dreamed of and more. Being a water baby, just the feeling of the cool, dreamy blue-green water is enough to make me swoon. You float, on your back, and get carried away by the soft white ripples. When you look down to the sand, there are some beautiful shells. You can see lots of coral but you can’t take it home and with such an amazing environment, you wouldn’t want to take anything away to spoil it for even a second.
Yesterday, we went snorkeling with friends. While my back got twisted and my foot was reinjured, it was worth every second of pain and suffering. There were pretty electric blue fish, fish with yellow and black stripes, big gray-white fish and a variety of others. To me, snorkeling is the best of both worlds. The world of water and fish and the world of sand and shells. I would not have missed that for the world. My husband and I had a similar experience 23 years ago in Hawaii where we got engaged. There, you could feed the fish (approved food you could buy) and they would swarm around you like Bambi and all his friends in the forest. We felt like we were part of the fish community there, not intruders. The fish swam with us not away from us and it was a world that was new and similar to a Jacques Cousteau special; except we were in the movie not watching it from the couch!
Today, our last day, we had a hut with shade and lounge chairs at the ocean. It was more perfect than perfect could bewith the highlight being a Mojito served to us on the beach. For ALL those who know me, you know I never drink alcohol. I don’t like the taste of any kind of alcohol, it makes my stomach feel queasy and I just don’t like the way even half a drink makes me feel. That is, until today. The perfect mojito, served at the Marriott on the beach in Aruba was just a piece of heaven in a frothy glass. The perfect proportions of mint and lime, rum and some sort of soda. I loved it because you could not taste the alcohol and it was perfectly blended with a whole bunch of fresh mint that you could smell before the glass was handed to you.
I know I could start ordering a Mojito back when I am the States but without the sun, the waves, the crunchy sand between my toes and the armchair with my book “Have A Little Faith” beside me, it just wouldn’t be the same. My husband and I shared one drink but every sip was a perfect balance of all the ingredients, except this time they were kissed by the sun and serenaded by the rippling tides of the ocean music.
Aruba, Merry Christmas, December 25, 2009
In the sparkling diamond crystals of the light blue water in the swimming pool, there swam a beautiful, little girl who decided she liked me. It’s funny isn’t it? Children can sense people who like them and are kind. I’ve always loved to be around kids, they are so naiive with their blunt honesty. She paddled to me, we made faces at each other; we smiled and laughed a lot. We tried to communicate but it was very difficult. My Spanish is very limited and it turns out she spoke a dialect from Santo Domingo. I needed my daughter’s translation help for that explanation!
Selianne swam under the water, her curly, rippling, long, brown hair flowing behind her. She had that wonderful laugh, like tinkling crystal bells, that innocent, sweet children have. We played a game, using mostly hand signals and a few Spanish words that delighted her. I had my sunglasses on top of my head, in the pool and she felt that it was a game in itself; she was greatly amused. One time she came upon me by surprise, swimming underwater like a fish, and lifted my glasses off my head. I think the way I squealed was as great of a joy as it was to actually take the sunglasses from me. It became our game.
Later, since I couldn’t understand her very much, I told her in pidgeon Spanish that I would try and get my “mija” my daughter to come and help us translate. Jillian, 15 and beautiful, walked over and I introduced them; Selianne was very excited being an 8 year old girl in the presence of a 15 year old, teenager!! Selianne was shy at first but then started swimming again like the cafe au lait little mermaid that she was. When my daughter Jillian and Selianne were trying to talk and communicate I smiled to myself. I remembered Jillian at that young age who had been very shy and scared of all strangers; now coaxing a little girl to play and laugh.
I crept up the baby stairs in the pool, still clutching the children’s staircase to help my, once again, aching foot. Time heals all, but sometimes we grown-ups are supposed to remember not to overdo a good thing after a long illness. Sometimes, I do not act like a grown up at all. We walked half a mile into town and BACK with my foot and heel acting up and my back in occasionally painful spasms. I loved walking to town, I loved feeling ALIVE after feeling so spent and achy and tired for so long. I needed and craved the experience. We ended up eating at the infamous Smokey Joe’s BBQ place, Danny and I sharing a combination meat platter and Jillian, our, vegetarian, eating macaroni and cheese.
I admit, walking back to the hotel was murder. I was too proud to admit it and take a taxi so I walked ever so slowly, limping and stopping to watch children play in the street. Bright green and blue iguana’s slithered across the sand and the bright touristy Christmas lights of Aruba, twinkling green, red, orange and blue Christmas lights wrapped around palm trees. The only thing I saw in front of us, walking back for a moment or two on the sand at night, were the twinkling brilliance of two hundred little stars against the deep, dark, black night.