“Life is too short, hug tightly, love strongly, forgive oftenly, and always smile widely!”
― Zane Baker
Did you ever wonder how people who are supposedly close to you tend to surprise you but not in a good way? Take today, for instance, I contacted a friend. At first, I did not recognize her voice based on past experience. She was always kind to me, and very pleasant not to say that she was mean to me but she was not welcoming. When I told her that I did not recognize her, she revealed that she had surgery. I felt awkward in hearing her solemn tone on the phone. I even apologized because I truly did not know and I felt bad about her reaction. She was probably not having a good day but that is no excuse to be unsavory. She said I interrupted before she had a chance to tell me about her surgery and I owned up to that! I was already feeling weird, not to mention this would be adding yet another issue to this scenario. She, in the end, said that she assumed that everybody knew and I, in turn, told her, “No, ma’am, no, ma’am. “
Life Lesson Learned
I was taught to treat those around you as you would like them to treat you, unfortunately, for the most part, it does not happen. My life lesson learned about speaking to my friend is to give her the benefit of the doubt, not to take it personally and to be forgiving. I can choose to be angry or I can simply take into consideration that she obviously was having a stressful day, and I just happen to be the one that called.
Come feel me, my love, bring me to a quiver! Allow our souls to collide, let us dance in symbiosis. Ah! Come feel me, my love, the longing is unbearable to no end. Your touch is an appetite that is continuous within my heart, my soul, my mind. Did you know? Throughout our lives, we have shared many things, the sad, the happy, and the tragic. Yet, here we are to this day, we are as passionate, as strong, and as in love. A love that continues to withstand the hand of time.
Alzheimer’s disease is devastating and horrific, it may come with moments of lucidity but when it is witnessed by family members, it is a memory to remember fondly and wholeheartedly.
The moment of lucidity happened last night. I got a visit from my Ma, the person I remember as being Ma! It was late I was having trouble with sleep, and all of sudden through the crack of my door, I noticed all the lights in our house were turned on. It stemmed from the hallway, entranceway, living room all the way to the kitchen.
I was concerned that somebody broke into our home. As I opened my bedroom door towards the living room I suddenly heard, ” I am up, it is me!” The kitchen is located off to the side connecting to the living room. There she was, standing against the counter with a small pot in her hand as she says, ” I want to make some coffee.” Ma usually did her coffee the old school way processing the coffee grains through a strainer, then heating the milk in a small pot similar to the one she was holding.
I was concerned that she could hurt herself in making the coffee, so I said, ” I will make you coffee, Ma. Don’t worry! ” I proceeded to make the coffee all the while thinking how clear she was and talking. What a blessing to be able to have a conversation with my beautiful mother-in-law. When I told her that it was 12:50 am, she became apologetic. I reassured her not to worry, the night is young. I joined her for a bit, serving her coffee, crackers, and butter and made myself a cup as well.
That is a memory that I will always carry in my mind and in my heart. I know that this disease is devastating, crippling to both the person inflicted with it as well as the caregiver that witnesses it but if we can focus on those moments of lucidity, then perhaps we can make it through. Food for thought.
Where am I going?
I look here, look there and everywhere.
I see the road ahead and I still do not know where I am supposed to go.
Many say, map it out!
Some say, plan it out!
Others say, know your destination!
Like the sound of a train making that choo-choo sound.
The smells of that smokey steam engine that permeate the air.
It passes by and I still have no clue!
There are days where things get out of hand.
And there are days where the focus is relentless.
Like taking a bite out of a favorite dessert, Yum!
But no matter where the destination?
Just know that your success is straight ahead.
Keep going, keep going and do not stop!
As a way of gaining my writing flow. My son suggested that I create snippets of scenarios from different situations in my life. I hope I can regain my creativity and begin to write again. I welcome your feedback. Let me know if I am on the right path.
Girl at Work
She sits during lunchtime, and cannot help but think how much her stomach is grumbling from the hunger pains. She is tending to a candidate scheduled for testing. She is abruptly interrupted by a fellow employee who failed to read, “proceed with caution,” sign placed on the door earlier to alert employees to enter cautiously. The phone rings, it is her fellow employee inquiring about her fish sticks that are cooking in the toaster oven in the office. So many thoughts flutter her mind, and she cannot wait until the day is over so she can go home to start her weekend.
Words are a lens to focus one’s mind.
– Ayn Rand
I think back to when my words flowed, my creative streak was in full gear. My words came through like musical notes on a page to form a beautiful melody. I am in a struggle attempting to create a work of art to keep you awe-struck! Let me know, how I do at the end of this piece.
I don’t know about you, but I find myself questioning my creativity. Where has it gone? I looked forward to writing; I could not get enough of it!
I think I stopped writing when I started working. I spent two years on the unemployed island. It was what I did-It consumed me! The feeling of my fingers as I typed on the keys, the ideas flowing and seeing the finished product created by me. It was nothing like it.
It was what I did to avoid thinking about being jobless. The many job searches and resumes that were sent out. I can not begin to count how many and eventually, I stopped counting. My escape was the writing which kept me from pulling my hair out!
I want it back, that feeling of oneness with ideas and the flow of words.