What if in my preoccupation with the sunset, I miss the sunrise?
What if the pain of the thorns, is worth the beauty of the rose?
What if in my search for hidden treasure, I miss the pearl of great price?
What if the shadows of the unknown, distract me from the known?
What if my preoccupation with the grave, keeps me from living?
~~~ Today is a gift…don’t squander it! ~~~
Howdy Fellow Sojourners 😀
It has been a while since I’ve popped in here and simply said “hello”. I’ve been mostly laid out. At one point, I seriously considered being hospitalized. Forever grateful for my amazing family who has been here to have the hard conversations and to help me make decisions when my chaotic brain just isn’t functioning.
In the month of May my son and I participated in a Photo Challenge by @whatsyourgrief on IG. A word prompt was given for each day of the month. We would share a picture and write something prompted by the word/picture. It has been really interesting to see and read the different takes from others and specially from my son. Exploring our grief together has been a “gift” to me. Through one of the posts I found @refugeingrief. I’ve signed up for their 30-day course Writing Your Grief for the month of June. These exercises have kept me writing everyday, even if I don’t post here.
Exploring your grief through writing, pictures, drawing, or whatever you find helpful is so important. It’s a healthy way of dealing with all the crazy emotions going on in the human body.
Ready pen continues to write, even if it’s just a “word”.
Grateful for all who visit, stop by or stay for a while. Let’s continue to listen deeply and write freely🖋
Step, shuffle…step, shuffle. Grueling steps, feeling every pebble and stone. The scorching sun glaring from the surface of the road, as if the elements had conspired to inflict further pain upon this shattered soul. How many times has this road been treaded? Too many times, and I wish I could say it is the last time.
The slow ascent from the land of the living to the place of eternal rest. Heavy, tedious, yet robotic and numb. The mixed crowd, some there by compulsion, others need to be part of paying their respects and others simply want to sponge away information to be spread elsewhere. Tears, sobs, prayers and even some laughs are heard among the throng.
The Family Tree has taken another blow. One more branch laid to rest. It is said that it was a gift to his Mother, being it was Dia de las Madres in the quaint village. They are together again, Mom and her beloved Son. Funny the things we say to bring comfort and solace to our sorrowful soul. However, the unanswered questions and countless regrets remain. The horrid images will haunt us. And, the pain of another loss will sear us even more.
The cobblestone road, that held childhood memories of laughter and joy, is now paved with pain and sorrow, sprinkled with rivers of tears.
God have mercy on us✝️
Once upon a time, in a land far, far away there was a Tree, and although it wasn’t a unique Tree, it inspired respect and admiration. The Tree was beautiful to behold. It stood tall in the midst…sturdy and stunning. Lots of branches and foliage covered the trunk. Oh, the oohs and aahs it inspired.
The passage of time with its multitude of storms, beat that Tree mercilessly. “Today” it stands barely recognizable. I dare say, some may even disdain its memory.
Some of its branches never made it to maturity. Others held on until illness, disappearance, unknown causes or even their own doing cut them off. Those that remain, well…they simply remain.
Time has a way of unearthing great treasures or stripping away facades. That outward beauty hid many parasites that were eating away from within. And, try as we may to keep the semblance of this great, big, beautiful Tree intact, at some point, it is impossible.
Another branch is cut off…death’s blade strikes again. Few remain. Each with their own regrets. Each wondering what is next. And, so a tattered legacy continues…
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you…” I better stop singing before I mess it up. Yes, it’s happened! Yes, I cried. End of story…oh, wait, I’m just getting started. Anywho, birthdays…goodness, how could such a subject conjure up all sorts of reactions and emotions? I tell ya, there’s nothing light and simple anymore…or has there ever been?
Can I just express my opinion about birthdays? Yes! I’m glad you approve…haha! What in the world has happened to birthday parties, people?!?! The venue, the entertainment, the decor…omygoodness gracious, one would have to sell their first born to afford such a feat. Wait, what if your first born is the birthday celebrated? Well, never mind. Let’s get back to the story. Quinceañeras are no longer a little girl with a simple white dress at a mass y una comida. Oh no, it’s a huge production. You’d think it’s the royal wedding. And, them cakes! Seriously?!?! Are they even eatable? I’d take a Betty Crocker, moist devils food cake with milk chocolate frosting ANY DAY over some of these “plastic” pieces of art. Ah, my Angie would always bake me a cake 😦
My “happy” birthday memory bank is, well, not very active. I do remember my Mom would always be the first to wish me happy birthday. And, I remember turning 15, which for some reason is a “magical” number in my culture. However, I had already managed to mess things up bringing shame to the family. The Runaway had begrudgingly been accepted back. Shunned because her innocence had been lost. Funny thing is that her innocence had been long gone. Taken in their own home by one of their own. I guess it was easier to blame a stranger…I guess. Let’s just say it wasn’t The Waltons. There was an attempt to celebrate this “magical” age in a girls life. Still not sure why? Cause it was anything but a “happy birthday”. Yup, Porcelain Doll was in full attire. A picture with a cake is cause for a flood of memories, a deluge of triggers which should be avoided.
There is that 50th birthday, though. Quite the marker, so I decided to celebrate. It was GOOD. Then there was my last birthday with my beautiful girl. She was nearing her end. Being who she was, she “decided” that she would fight to stay awake all day so that she could spend it celebrating me. Her eating was almost at a stand still, yet, she sat up and had a piece of pie with us. It was her Momma’s birthday and she would do all in her power to make it a special one, and SHE DID!
“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you…”
maybe, just maybe, birthdays aren’t that bad after all…
〉〉〉 S – C – A – R – S 〈〈〈
each with a story of it’s own
joyful & traumatic – bitter & sweet
visible & invisible – physical & emotional
other inflicted & self inflicted
by strangers, by loved ones, by self
〉〉〉 S – C – A – R – S 〈〈〈
some repulse, others bring a smile
stories of heroism, stories of survival
freely spoken, cautiously guarded, safely hidden
〉〉〉 Scars are part of LIVING 〈〈〈
Motivation Monday! How does one wrap it’s brain around such a lively subject? How does one who lives in a constant state of blah, get motivated to even move? Who would stand in line to watch a dud? Who would pay money to see a flop? Yeah, no headlines here!
The come-back-kid. The rags to riches. The from nothing to somethings are the ones who get the applause, the adulation, the pats on the back. Never disappointing. Always pushing through.
What if the dark abyss is more inviting? What if it beckons one to enter in and never look back? What if in the midst of all the colors of the rainbow, grayness is ones go to spot? Do I repulse you? Do I annoy you? Do I disappoint you?
Can you fix me? Can you pull me out? Do you even want to try…anymore? Like a sling, always coming back to the same-ol-blah.
Stagnant…Monotone…same-old-song.
…What if I’m just…Me
What if I don’t break any records or become famous or stand before crowds
What if contentment is just being “here”
What if I’m not keeping up with the Joneses or trying to be like the Kardashians
What if fulfillment is just being “present”
What if I stopped regretting yesterday or fearing tomorrow
What if joy is for today…?
Perspective – Perspective – Perspective
“Teach us to realize the brevity of life,
so that we may grow in wisdom.” ~ Psalm 90:12
Events. Markers. Symbols ~ Etched. Created. Memorialized ~ Planned. Unplanned. With a plan and a purpose. The depth of their meaning incalculable. Transcending time and space. Creating an intricate canopy by the Master’s Hand. The mystery and beauty of it all.
The appointment abruptly set. A good thing given the instability of the mind. Yet, the symbolism of it all did not escape her mind. This long awaited event was happening on the very next day of A Step Forward.
Surrounded by love and support she walked into a place she had never dreamed. The appointment. The artist. The design. All pre-ordained. No vacillating. Resolved. Secure. Surreal.
In a cloud the process began. The gentle hand of the artist inflicting a welcomed pain at every stroke. Her mind swimming in beautiful memories of her beautiful girl. Oh, how she loved her! The searing pain of her absence always present. Awakened from her trance by the words, “all done”.
Gasp! It’s done! The sense that “this” has been there all along. Now visible to the naked eye.
A Butterfly ♥ the earth bound worm unraveled, transformed, set free. Able to fly, to soar on heights beyond human reach. New creation. Metamorphosis. Shedding mortality, to be clothed in immortality. Freedom. Life. Hope. Fullness of Joy.
Music Notes ♥ her love of music. her beautiful voice. her love to worship her King. her last melodies and us singing together as her final day drew near.
Angie ♥ her name!!!!!!!!!!!!
♥A wrist marked by love ~ Depth beyond the grave♥
Spring is here! There are signs of re-birth all around. Birds fill the air with their melodious songs. Life. Hope. Fullness of Joy.
The sound of the pounding waves ~ ~ calming…soothing
drowning out my weary soul
Pounding, wave after wave ~ ~ crashing…soothing
at the break of dawn…sunrise ringing in a new day
His mercies are new every morning
a welcomed sight to my numb soul
The vastness of these waters cannot drown out love
it magnifies it
it amplifies it
Take it in, oh hurting soul…drink deeply and be refreshed
"Ready Pen..." 