Can't you just taste it? Doesn't it just make you miss summer right about now?
Can't you just taste it? Doesn't it just make you miss summer right about now?
Vanilla custard with raspberries, blueberries and slices of thinly cut kiwi fruit, a small chunk of fresh pineapple, flaky almond crust. Small bites spread over an hour with a blue glass of icy cold milk. A dessert fork, lights dim not glaring. A peaceful Sunday night dessert.
Monday is cold and biting, raining, sleet. No place to go, to rush out the door. My dog is downstairs curled up on the couch, she looks like a sleeping fox. She, apparently, has no energy today either, I try to take her out but she looks at me with disdain.
She will not go. We look at each other wisely, we agree we should all move together to a warmer climate. “Florida?” I ask her. “California she murmurs, less humidity.” I agree immediately.”Someday” we agree.
We sit on the coach as we do every morning. Her body and paws on my lap, my arm around her head softly scratching behind her rusty colored ears, in her favorite place. We talk together. She tells me if we move she is scared to swim in the ocean, I tell her I totally understand. We will start very slowly until she feels comfortable or if not she can play in the sand. I wouldn’t force her to do anything, I’m not that kind of mom.
I never forced my children to do anything they didn’t want to do either, I just insisted on them having good manners and being respectful. They both are. I am so proud of your siblings, I whisper to the dog,and I am so proud of you.” I let her in on a secret: “they will be home very soon to visit you.” The dog looks up at me, her eyes brighten with interest. She knows when her brother comes home he will rough house with her, she knows when her sister comes home she will get extra hugs and kisses, mostly in private.
Everybody says we should not feed the dog at the table
but we all do except for dad, he is the strictest of the family. I just need a soft, warm, mushy look and my hand is out. Sister sometimes slips too and gives in not to mention grandma who gives pieces of food all the time, even to the dog’s cousin where it is really NOT allowed. “But it makes him so happy” she says, calling the dogs boys when they are both girls. It’s a language thing.It makes us all laugh.
It is finally time to get out of bed and take a hot shower, whether I want to or not. It is so cold in the house, I am shivering. Nothing motivates me except the amount of days I haven’t showered. I have accepted/relented to Winter because I have no choice. I will stay in as much as possible, that is my coping mechanism. I can’t fight it, I may as well hide from it. I’ve given in.
Time does not stand still, not at all. It breezes past, its bitterness a step away from me. I like it that way. If I don’t have to go out, I won’t. If I can’t live in a warm temperature, I will make the temperature warm in my house. I will only go out when I need to go out. Tomorrow, I need an EKG, just a three-month check-up, no biggie. I will go and I will come back, happy to be home. I will make a cup of tea with a spoon of honey
and I will appreciate that even more than usual. After that, I will sit once more, with my dog, lying on the bed and we will close our eyes, together. Nap time.
Supple, soft skinned woman,
lounging in the dew kissed grass
her beautiful porcelain skin glistening, the sun reflects off her body, that has already kissed her blooming cheeks, her unbuttoned dress, she waits…
She relaxes in her garden, surrounded by only her friends in nature, flowers, grass, a nearby trickle of water from the fountain.
Manicured bright green grass, birds above, weaving in and out of the crisp blue sky singing their sweet songs.
Nearby, her fan rests close to her,
she is too tired to pick it up and fan herself.
She waits for the promise of her Prince to come, she is excluded by her family, by everyone. She is the rebel of the family and takes pride in that.
She has done this on purpose, she the black sheep of the family, throwing caution to the wind, waiting for her young man.
He has arrived by his dappled horse and will gasp under his breath so as not to frighten her, her eyes are now closed.
He fans her, feeds her water from the well and
carefully wraps her in his arms like he would for a precious baby.
He caresses her forehead with his soft kisses, murmurs loving words into her neck.
She smiles inwardly not letting him know that she is absolutely fine.
Circle of Life: Death & Rebirth
This is the time for introspection, to put things in order not just for my house, but for me. My life lesson: I have clung to old friendships far too long, they are dead, like the crumpled crisp brown leaves on the yard. Friendships where I am the only one who is trying. You can’t force a friendship and your real friends, your true friends are always there. “The past” is a nice memory not a basis for friendship.
It is the second week of November, I look out my window and see gray skies and naked trees. There is no more sun peeking from behind blue skies, I mourn the sunshine, the flowers, the bright, orange, red, yellow leaves of the Fall that used to embrace the trees. What was once my favorite season is now seen as the precursor to the worst season, Winter.
Winter is on its way, people are dismissive and say “add layers of clothing” as they stuff themselves into scarves and hats, mittens and feel warmer but not me and not anyone who shares the chronic illness of Fibromyalgia and Hashimoto’s Disease. Those words taunt us, they are a joke, a cruel comedy, a farce. Nothing helps, the winter chill goes through our bones and latches on like a one huge tick, sucking blood. We are always exhausted, we have no energy, we have what seems like the flu without the fever, every day of our lives. In the winter our bones and muscles are stiff, unyielding and painful.
Many times I don’t get dressed. My nightgown becomes my party dress and my pajamas serve as my jeans and sneakers. I know when I am in a ” Fibro Flare” when I cannot wear anything, that strains against my body. My body is bloated and the jeans make angry red imprints on my stomach even though they are the right size for me. If I have to be outside, as soon as I come home I literally rip the tight, restricting clothing off, my bra, my pants and change into loose, soft pajama bottoms and a well-worn tee-shirt. It is only then I can breathe. To people with chronic pain, Winter is a slow death, a Tragedy.
After a long, bleak winter, when the temperatures get higher and we have weeks of rain, my body and mind change. My body hurts because of the dampness and the changing weather but my heart knows that soon I will see buds springing from the ground to show off the first fashions of Spring. One day out of the corner of my eye, I see several bright, green buds pushing their way from the deep, dark earth. It is the promise of Spring fulfilled, crocuses have pushed their way above ground: Hope. Once the crocuses have sprung forth, soon we will see the burst of color dancing before our eyes. It is a ballet I love to watch. I never get bored. In a matter of days the forsythia bush in my back yard has sprouted brilliant, bright yellow lights, buds and I know that we are safe and loved.
One day, the sun pulls out its lazy arms and stretches, beams its beautiful smile and soars to the top of a deep blue sky. It is officially Summer, It is time to Rejoice, to take advantage of every single day that we have been given, a reprieve, from pain, from gloominess, a treat. I enjoy the summer as much as I can. Even though extreme heat is not good for chronic pain patients, it is good for my soul to look outside and see the painting of flowers and sun and hear the laughter of children riding their bicycles in the neighborhood. The sun, makes me happy, it does affect my mood. It softens the world around us, like a soft, romantic filter on an otherwise hard life. I am grateful for the sun, every single day, it is time to Celebrate with friends: joyous laughter, food, children selling lemonade, dogs running around outside, people holding hands. This would be my final act.
This year I’ve learned many things, mostly about myself. Because this is timely I thought I would share this first: I will wear white clothes after Labor Day if I want to and if I receive a look of disgust I will throw my head back and laugh. If you dislike it that is your problem not mine.
Instead of pressuring my children to come home for their college breaks (which has never been my style) I want them to do what THEY want and whatever they want to do is fine. I do have expectations, I want to see them on Thanksgiving and Christmas. It would be wonderful to see them on my birthday or any other time but they are in college and have exams, I totally understand. Any other time I see them is icing on the cake.
Speaking of…No matter how old I get, I can’t stop looking forward to my birthday, I’ll be 57 in October and my age doesn’t bother me, nor do the gray hairs that live with my brown curly hair in harmony. Or the laugh lines around my sometimes mischievous green eyes, I’ve earned them, I don’t try to hide them and maybe one day I will learn how to use make-up, but no promises. Lipstick counts, right? That, I wear.
Today I saw a brown bunny skip across the street and the leaves on one tree were starting to turn to that first blush of orange. That is the beginning of the end of summer. It’s going to be a very, very cold winter, it’s always a longer and colder winter than anticipated. I keep my eye on the future hoping we can move someplace warm in the future.
Today I saw my deceased dad’s initials on a white van in front of the drugstore and I couldn’t speak, his initials are signs from him to me, have been for eleven years. This one was a message to pass on to my mom and I will, at the right time. I’ll know when that day comes. Thank you Daddy.
I am not ashamed at all of my Psychic or my Empath abilities, I don’t brag about them, I don’t keep them a secret. They are just a private, integral part of me and I feel blessed to have them. I was a child when I had my first encounter walking down the street in my old neighborhood and thinking about how it would feel if you could read someone’s mind. It lay dormant for years until I was ready. I was always super-sensitive but it worked to my disadvantage before I could use it to help others. Empath intuitives, we understand each other. If anyone has more information about Empath Intuitives or can point me in the right direction, I’d love to hear about it.
I’ve rediscovered the joy of Tracy Chapman’s incredibly beautiful, soulful voice. Her voice is one of the most amazing voices I have heard and I am sad that I forgot her or did she leave us on purpose? In any case, I’m glad I found her again. Her voice, simple, complex, made of velvet and silk. Tracy, you get the feeling, would be a lovely friend, kind, maybe shy at first. The richness of her voice like honey. Here’s to the sad ending of the summer, for me, and the joyous start of winter, for others.
Nurturing A Dying Plant
Nick and Kailey, 23, live together in a dark basement apartment, in Cambridge, MA. They met in graduate school and dated for several years. Now, they both worked from home, in technology. Kailey’s parents refers to them as “moles.” “They act as if they were in hiding, as if they were in the witness protection program,” she complains to her husband.Nick was absolutely happy living this way however, Kailey has her doubts, she missed seeing other people and having parties but she loved Nick and knew this was important to him.
The long, tough winter in Cambridge had made Kailey so weary, so depressed because even though their apartment was in the basement she missed the light that came in through their one window. She missed seeing other people, her old friends but Nick wanted her to himself and she knew that proved how much he loved her. She felt safe and happy and deeply loved.
One day in June when she heard birds chirping outside their window, and sniffed the changing air Kailey started to feel happier. She was excited and couldn’t wait to go outside yet Nick had no interest. Finally after much begging and pleading he did go with her but he didn’t seem pleased. They walked up the four steps to the outside where their eyes blinked and they used their hands to shade them from the brightness. Kailey squealed with delight and Nick just wanted to go back inside where he felt most comfortable among his computers.
Once outside, tree buds pink with anticipation were blooming, grass was sturdy and deep green, standing upright saluting the sun, people were no longer wearing their puffy down jackets. Instead they were wearing their Harvard sweatshirts, rowing on the Charles River in perfect synchronicity. Kailey looked around at the life around her, people smiling, holding cups of iced coffee in their hands, throwing frisbees across the greens and laughing with pleasure. Kailey smiled openlyas soon as she was outside, her cheeks getting pink, exposed to fresh air and the sun. She was laughing out loud at all the activity and after a while a group of kids playing frisbee asked Kailey and Nick if they wanted to join their game. Kailey joined their game begging Nick to join but, as usual, he refused adamantly.
“Kailey, he shouted a short time later, it’s time to go home” and for the first time, in a long time, she didn’t follow him immediately. Her new friends begged her to stay awhile longer and she did. “I’ll be back later” she told Nick and turned back to her new friends, laughing, breathless and happy. She had been with Nick for a very long time. She didn’t see them getting married soon, there was something missing and she had always known that. Nick loved living in the dark world, it was there he felt most comfortable but Kailey didn’t. Once she saw the sunshine, her senses became alive, she couldn’t imagine going back to the place she had lived with Nick. She sat herself down on the grass and started thinking about her life. Did she really still love Nick or was Nick her safety net? Was she happy living the same life that Nick lived? No, she knew that. She felt like an old, thirsty plant that was dying, needing water and sunlight, nurturing.
It was time, she thought, time to tell Nick something she had known for a long time but had been too scared to think about much less mention it. Their relationship was more of convenience than anything else. Nick was comfortable in his own world of technology, alone with his computers, not needing people or nature around him. Kailey was different, playing frisbee wtih new friends in the sunlight, laughing and having fun had exposed her to a world that she used to live in, a world where things were light, sunny, happier and free. She sat alone for quite some time, thinking, reluctant to get up. Finally, she headed back to the house, up the hill, her head down. Her world had changed, now she needed to tell Nick that she was not complete just living in the dark. She wanted more, more for herself, more fun in her life, more brightness. She was going to try to say goodbye to darkness, and head slowly to the light.
I tried on about 80 bathing suits yesterday at a nice store, oh fine, I’m exaggerating, I tried on 8 bathing suits but it certainly felt like 80. I have lost weight so my excuse that nothing fits because I’m heavy does not hold water (pun intended). Someone described me as “tiny” and “slight” the other day, I literally looked behind me looking to see who they were talking about. There was nobody behind me. I may have lost weight but in no way do I feel slight or diminutive. What are they thinking? And no matter what I weigh, or anyone weighs, trying on bathing suits is a horrifying experience. Am I wrong?
Have you seen the bathing suits THIS year? If you have, there’s no need for you to read any further. What has happened to a regular one piece swimsuit: a regular bathing suit with straps and a back? The suits I tried on either had no umm, support in the front, and no straps ( I don’t count those little stringy things as straps) and there was no backs, one literally went down to my backside. Who wants to see THAT?
Today I went to two other stores, same results. The suits are either not in my size (though I bought one that is too big for me and one that is too small for me out of pure desperation). The others in the store are skimpy, poorly made and junky, not even my daughter with her cute figure would wear them and they are all mix and match. Ugh.
So, my personal conclusion is that trying on and actually buying a bathing suit is MUCH WORSE than looking and buying a house. Ladies, do you agree? I would talk to men too but let’s face it, they really do not have the same problem. Small, Medium or Large? Hawaiian print or solid blue? Am I right?
Buying a house? Seems pretty simple to me. Not even 100th of one percent close to the agony of the bathing suit selection. Buying a house: Know the limits of what you can spend, know which coast/states/towns you want to live in, do research on different areas and look at some houses with your new best friend, your local realtor who wants nothing more than his/her commission. Select a house, sign about a hundred checks, move in, done! To me it sounds like a piece of cake. But, please, remind me of that before the next time we move……