Sometimes it hits me. The grief, the still foreign concept. I lost a child. He was 27 years old when he died in September of 2011, but he was still my child. They say the loss of a child by far is the heaviest of losses a soul can bear. I agree.
I found another thing they say to be true. They, being the experts on grief and loss. The second year of loss is the worst. I agree. The reality pools around one’s feet. The permanency of this kind of loss becomes a stagnant puddle one must wade through.
Imagine you and your family are sound asleep after a long day. You wake up to loud rapping on your door. You shoot a blurry-eyed glance at the clock on your nightstand. A red 12:00 midnight glares back. The continued rapping makes you realize you weren’t dreaming. You throw on a robe, and rush to your bedroom window, fearing the worst.
Your friend is standing on your porch with a very concerned look on his face. You open the window and loudly whisper. “What’s going on? It’s midnight!”
“Hey friend, I have unexpected company and need to borrow some bread,” he says.
“Bread? That’s what this is all about? Sheesh, I thought somebody died! Come back tomorrow?”
“I need to feed my guests. Can you lend me some bread?” He insists.
I used to have naturally, perfectly aligned teeth. More than one dentist I visited assumed I once wore braces. I never did. Within the past seven years or so however, one particularly stubborn tooth has decided to break rank and go out on its own. It is the tooth next to my right, top front tooth.
One of my lower, back molars had to be pulled after it cracked in a car accident when I was 18 years old. The dentist suggested I never have the wisdom tooth directly behind it pulled in order for it to partner with the molar directly above it.
“The wisdom tooth will slowly move into the spot of the absent molar. If you don’t keep that wisdom tooth, you will eventually lose the molar above it as the two molars biting down against each other help keep each other in place.” He said. Continue reading
There is one thing about life that never changes,
And that is that things are constantly changing.
Change is everywhere in our natural world. Each second of each minute of each hour of each day, nothing stays the same. Over the centuries, the ocean waves have never remained still. They repeat their rhythm with crashing roars on the coastline, evaporating to create rain clouds, providing varying degrees of tides, and sometimes a very dangerous temper. Even the stillest lake, has life moving within its serene waters. Continue reading
“Hey! Where’s my boots?”
When I was a new mom, my friend Karen (same Karen from Giggles and Grins at the Zoo) bought me a mug for my first Mother’s Day. The mug was white, illustrated with a stick figure mom and the caption “Bestest Mommy Ever” printed in colorful letters. It was made to look like a preschool child wrote it with crayons; some of the letters were backwards. I cherished that mug. Unfortunately, it broke years ago.
Last year, I was getting ready to go on a trip to Florida for Christmas, then we would swing over to Maryland to visit my daughter and toddler grandson. I had lots to do, so I embarked on one of those fit-everything-into-one-productive-day events.
First things first, I stopped at my chiropractor’s office for an appointment and got my neck and back adjusted. I shopped at several places and visited several banks, which meant standing at way too many check stand lines.
My very last chore for the day was Walgreens. As I stood in line to pay for my items, the lady behind me tapped me on the shoulder. Continue reading
Last night my husband and I had just sat down to eat, when our dogs ran to the front door and furoiciously barked at the intruder they saw through the glass door, standing on our front porch. It was a turkey. A white turkey at that. I didn’t even know they came in white. The ones I have seen are of mottled colors of browns, greys and black. By the time I got my camera, the turkey had moved to the front yard. We live in the country so we often see moose, deer, and flocks of turkeys. Continue reading
It’s not something I talk about often, but when I do tell people I was born in Havana, Cuba; the first thing they ask is, “Was your dad in the military?” When I tell them that he wasn’t, their next comment almost always is, “Why were you born there? You don’t look Cuban!” With that in mind, I suppose my cousins “look even less Cuban” than I do. As babies, each of my cousins qualified for any Gerber Baby look-alike contest, with their blond curls and big blue eyes.
My paternal grandparents were directly from Spain. My maternal ancestry is also from Spain with a few drops of French in there somewhere. What most people don’t know is that in 1492, Columbus claimed the island for the Kingdom of Spain. Cuba remained under Spain’s ruling until 1898. Most of the original Native Americans living in Cuba died because they were subjected to harsh slavery, or died from Eurasian diseases. A thousand or so survived, many escaped into the mountains. Thousands were then cruelly ripped from their homes and families in Africa to replace the lost native slaves. Cuba’s ethnicity is somewhat different from the typical Latin America people imagine. Continue reading