The Oldest Girl

Married at 15, having already lived a “full life”.  No quinceañera, no prom, no pictures to capture the accomplishments of her life. The oldest in a large family. Her Momma always busy, sick and/or pregnant. The daily chores overwhelming for anyone, let alone a little girl. In this culture large families were the norm. The eldest would soon be helping out around the house, especially if she was a girl. She did it all, and was a Mom to her siblings, more so than their own Mother. As if the household chores weren’t enough, she would be demanded to help out tending to the land along with her Father and brothers. How did she do it all? She would say with pride, “I was like one of the boys to our Dad.” She took pride in being able to do what the boys could do, at times faster and better. So why did Dad beat her so mercilessly?

Grown up and married now, with children of her own and her own household to tend to. You’d think this would have earned her freedom from all the responsibilities of her “childhood home”. No, not in this culture. The hats just kept piling on.

There was a “hardness” about her, yet the caring soul within her managed to come through time and again. Every now and then a tear dared to escape from her eyes, almost shattering that impregnable armor. With one hard swoop she would yank it from her face in defiance and resolve not to let this happen again. Who told her she shouldn’t cry?

I wonder if all her collections were part of her “living” in a world she had never known; she had never had? There was that miniature tea set in the midst of other miniature figures. There was her collection of Monchhichis (Japanese stuffed toys) – always sitting pretty on her especially made shelves.

Everything sat pretty, clean, protected. The stuffed toys encased in plastic bags to preserve their beauty. Lots and lots of porcelain figurines, especially dolls. She would clean them with care.

What was going through her mind?

What was brewing inside of her?

Forty plus one, was the number of her years. Such a short life! She finally broke beyond repair. Unanswered questions remain…how I miss this beautiful soul!

Pedicure

It’s Saturday! What to do?

Summer and Sandals go together, right? Of course, sandals call for the cutest pedicure, unless —squirrel!— your like that lady I saw yesterday wearing shorts a tank top and sandals with (ready!?) white socks that reached all the way up to her knees! Yup! Yes, I cringed too.

Anywho, come on, let’s go get a pedicure! I’m bringing a book, and my notebook with my pen ready to write. Natalie Goldberg in her book “Writing Down the Bones” recommends one try to write anywhere and everywhere. The nail salon might be a good place to attempt to write “undistracted”.

Here we are. Good, it’s not that crowded. “Yes, pedicure, please.”

The comfortable massage chair beckons me to sit and unwind. The tub in front of it is being filled with bubbly warm water. Feet in…yes! My pedicurist and I try to communicate, yeah both accents are not meshing very well. Yes, a written paper with a “menu” of services. I point to the pedicure with massage, ending with warm towels.

Book, notebook and pen on my lap…trying to get my mind to settle…trying to get those creative juices going…OUCH!!! Can you guess where this is going? Um, is it just me? Are my attempts at “self-care” producing more, um, pain?

And, so proceeded the endless ouch! sorry! ouch! sorry! ouch! sorry! Blood, a chunk pulled out of my toe with oodles of crazy glue (yes, crazy glue…crazy huh?!) poured into the hole to stop the bleeding. By the way, this was my second time trying this place. I figured the first “assault”, I mean pedicure, she was probably having a bad day. Well, from the looks of it, today she is having an even worse day, AND we can’t communicate! You’d think my cringing face, the pulling of my foot and my audible “ouch” would be enough for her to get the message, right?

It’s over…I’m limping…my toe is throbbing. This might not have been the greatest idea. I think I need to find another nail place…don’t know…ha!ha! Ya think!

My Massage

It’s been a little gloomy around here, so I think it’s time for some R&R.

Today I am going to take you to a place of rest, relaxation and renewal. Where your body will be lavishly lathered with wonderful coconut oil. All your senses will be engaged as you hear the sound of the birds, amidst the ocean waves crashing and taking you into a place of total bliss. The aromatherapy with it’s lavender scent will calm and relax you…deep breath…can you smell it? Let yourself go…relax!

That is until “Genna” (not her real name) walks in!

Picture Rocky training to “Eye of the Tiger”. Can you hear the knuckles cracking?

AND SO IT STARTS…your relaxing massage – ha!ha!, so you thought 8-\

Snap, crackle, pop! Wait, should I be fighting back? I’m confused…

She asks, “how are you doing?” My thoughts, “do you really want to know?” In a barely audible, squeaky whisper I manage to say, “ok…”

The torture, I mean massage, continues. Ouch! Was that an elbow to my…OUCH! Ok, never mind…uncle, uncle! Whatever she is pressing is making me lift from the table…really?! I’m paying for this?

Finally, she is done! The 60 minute relaxing massage, which turned into an all out beating, which I must say was totally unfair.  I should have fought back…just sayin!  Anywho, it was finally over!

On the bright side (cause I’m really trying to find the “bright side) it did take my mind off my emotional pain 😉

Where will I go next? Stay tuned…you just never know 😀

Thank you

Howdy all!

A little over a month ago I started this Blog. I’ve noticed some traffic – visits, likes, comments, follows – THANK YOU!

I have always liked reading and writing (Love of Writing). On May 8, 2017 my beautiful, 30 year old daughter went to heaven after a 10 month battle with cancer. I plummeted (not out yet) into a deep hole of sorrow and grief. Writing has become a source of “vomiting” my grief and pain onto paper. Typing onto a Blog is part of my process of trusting “my voice” to the outside world.

I’m a woman of faith, who loves her family, likes to have fun AND humor and sarcasm are, well part of me. I write about the good, the bad and the ugly…and the “really?!” “seriously?!” moments of my entire life.

Thank you for joining me on my life journey. Whether you peek in or stay a while, I am thankful for you.

The PEN is READY, what will come out next…

Present

Noise noise, constant noise!

Always connected; always engaged,

missing the moment at hand.

Can you be still for a moment?

What do you fear?

Do you know whose beside you?

Do you even care?

Can you see beyond the screen?

Can you hear the whisper from within?

Can you be present?

just for a moment,

just for a while.

 

Different

What if I am different?

What if I am different than “you”?

I like spicy, flavorful Mexican food, so my hot dog will not have the “regular” ketchup and mustard, but will be overloaded with bacon, onion, tomatoes and jalapeños.

I will take a quiet, peaceful walk in the mountains over a sandy beach.

I would rather sit with “you” in a quiet place, and eat and talk and laugh and cry. Than be in a group, frazzled by all the chattering noise.

Solitude is my friend, my rest; the place where I can just be. I don’t have to be rescued from it. It doesn’t mean I’m shutting down, heck I can shut down in a crowded place.

We are all different. We are all fearfully and wonderfully made. The beauty in a collage with all the different faces, colors and sequence.

There is beauty in differences! There is peace in just being me!