writing

Keep Calm, Carry On and Don’t Look Back, for Long

Minute Hand on Clock

I was reading today a beautiful piece of writing sent to me in Brad Listi’s latest newsletter. If you haven’t yet acquainted yourself with The Nervous Breakdown, it’s a crying shame.

It reminded me of my first true love. A man with a red corvette, curly brown hair and a heart of pure gold. We lived a long-distance relationship throughout our college years. Many trips from either of our college towns down the nine-hour drive to a large southern city populated with either Limos or Toyota Corollas and, for a few weeks a year, one red corvette and two people in love.

During our summer breaks, I spent many a day or evening at his college-town apartment; until 11 pm or 3 am-if we fell asleep in each others arms. He was the quiet shield from the beatings at home of one parent or the crass treatment by a step-mother that only wanted me gone;. She got her wish; mine were not granted. Truth is slayed by hatred so often.

He has a family now and that door has been shut to me long ago Though, for a minute, I allow myself to wonder what our life would have been like to entwine into each others limbs as the evening turned into night and we grew closer through the years.  What would our baby we lost to miscarriage have looked like? His chin, my ears, his feet, my hands. The minute has ended and I must deal with the truth of today and count my blessings. My friends, my faith, the strength I have to fight each minute of pain. Nothing would stop me from working before, nothing will stop me from working through this dying disease today.

The minute has passed and I must deal with today. I count my blessings and move through the pain. Happy that it is in my bones but not my heart. That pain would be too much to bear.Those questions I also look at askance. Lot’s wife taught us not to look backward  No matter how much it hurts to move forward in this body, at least it is moving ahead.

Regrets? Yes, many. But I only acknowledge them peeping at me from the corner of my eyes. There is no point at looking them straight on. I must gather my strength and keep my faith for the current fight; alone, with this disease and its unending pain.

Count your blessings and be happy for what you have. Be happy in your heart for who you have become and, whatever war you face today; keep strong and carry on.

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writing

Friends Like These are Hard to Find!

First, I feel I have been re-miss in thanking The Living Notebook for an award. I was under the impression that you thank them once you choose your nominees and give the facts, etc. But if that isn’t the case, here is a big “Thank You” to TLN for his kind award. If you don’t visit him for music and writing notes, it is a crying shame.

Secondly, I would love it if you took a look at my new header on The Point of the Quill which is original artwork by Laura B. Williams, no less.  If you know her artwork, you will see her beautiful hand in the original work. Thank you again, Laura!

And I want to thank everyone for hanging with me though this horrid disease. It used to be that I could walk outside and no one would be able to tell the difference between me now and me before I had to stop my beloved work. Now, I can’t walk, where I used to dance and it takes a little part of me each day; though with a fight.

So here is to friends that stick around when the going gets tough and even give you thoughtful awards and make artwork for you! You are quite a bunch!

Have a great week!!

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writing

Having a Bad Day?

I am. This helps. We’ve all read Old Man and the Sea and Moby Dick. When did this relationship become two-way? It’s nice to think about.

No it is not a whale, but a whale shark. But still, the incident is breathtaking.

 

And this one had me crying for a different reason, with smiles and tears.

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Have You Lost It Completely?

 

gitl with balloons shutterstock_82919143

Tired of the day-to-day grind? Tired of all of the must do now society? Are you just tired?

Do you remember the days of yore when you jumped through the rain puddles and not over them?

When you caught fireflies in a glass jar to wonder at them and them set then free to fly again and light up?

The honeysuckle bushes that smelled so sweet you breathed heavily, deep with wonder? Then plucked one tiny flower to pull that mysterious stem out and put it on your tongue to taste the sweet nectar?

We knew no rush and tumble then. Only long days.

Do you remember the book, the one book that transported you to another world? Where you felt yourself being guided through the story by an unknown being? You were caught in the garden labyrinth with trouble just behind you?

You were there. No memory was as sweet and true as this one. You were there as truly as you sit here now.

Why can’t we find that again? Is it irreparably lost to us? I say, “No. Never”

Never will I let that world disappear. For if I did, I would lose part of my soul.

Don’t ever lose the magic of discovery and innocence. We are all still children in this  beautiful world. You can be dignified and adult and still, quietly hold that special wonder in your side pocket during meetings.

Try it. You might find yourself smiling. Once again.

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