Whispered Promises

Dad had a stroke a few weeks ago. It affected his hearing and his sight, He has vision in half of one eye and the other vaguely sees shadows now. But most disturbing to him is the idea that he cannot read. Its not that he cannot see it, it is the fact that he cannot comprehend what he is reading, the words aren't making sense to him. This is very frustrating to him, and my family doesn't get it, but I do. There are a great many differences about dad and I, but there are some major commonalities. One of those is reading. Dad reads his bible in the morning, then the news paper (The Daily Review) after he works mowing his bids or working on his wide list of mom-wants and 'needstogetdones', he comes in to read a book, at the end of the eve he always reads his devotional. So my point is, half of dad's enjoyment in life is reading. He is very hard of hearing, this is his sanctuary, so he is working very hard at not being frustrated. He is going to be having a stent pu

wrote this about someone very close to me. It is a true story and I needed it to be put onto paper. Its what I do. ~~ He lived on the outskirts of town, just beyond peering eyes and wagging tongues. Forgotten as he had wished it to be, not so much a recluse, a recluse would provoke curiosity. No, he held a job, shopped at the stores and walked among men, but he spoke from the heart to no one, not anymore, not since he had fallen from his steed. His armor now rusted, useless. He lived with a girl. A sweet girl, but no one remarkable, nothing very memorable about her, just an average sweet girl. She blended in with the other women, her long hair tucked in a twisted pony tail, t-shirt and jeans her average attire. She wasn’t from town so she remained with him, leaving only for work or to shop with him. She wore no makeup nor did she care for flashy jewelry. She preferred a dogs company to girl friends, so they had two and occasionally you passed her as she walked th

I have boxes and boxes of stuff Baby pictures, art pictures, kitchen fairies, lotions and clothing, to name just a few items. All from the NY apartment. They are in my bedroom taking up way too much room. I have to sort through them. Decide what to keep, where to keep it and what to toss. I already did the initial sorting when I packed. But it got easier just to pack and decide later. Besides, it was bringing up so many memories. The girls growing up, the hated divorce, the struggle in between, the holiday joys and the school papers of three little girls, now women. Who let that happen? Now I have to sort once again. Lord help me. There were some things I had forgotten. Like post cards from my best friend, who was staying in England and traveling across Europe while I was going through the divorce, she decided I should choose a last name to my liking, since I could legally change it anyways. So post cards and letters came to me with the last name popular in the region she was travell

The party was a success.  I made a point to see each of my friends and talk to them, it was an open house so thankfully, I could do this as each trickled in at their own time throughout the day. Thank you Gael. You are a doll. I have good friends. Who ever was unable to come wrote me a letter or note on facebook or on my phone. It has humbled me, it has made me ever so grateful to the large hearts I have associated myself. There are awesome faithful people in a world that has been cracked and split on me. These are my glue, they have grounded me. We have listened to our tears, rejoiced in our triumphs, leaned on each others' shoulders and loved, graciously. I was the recipient of such yesterday. I am humbled, I am grateful and I am blessed. The radio station yesterday had a question, they were asking the audience, If you were to die would you want to see who came to your funeral? Perhaps the greater question would be, would you regret not doing more, not being there enough for

I hate a big Ado about anything pertaining to me. I am an introvert. My close friends find this a bit humorous to consider, but publicly, I am. I don't seek friendships, for many reasons. I have so much to try to balance on my plate. I don't trust many. Time is precious, If I give it to you, I want it in return. I have two friends who I have stopped seeing. If they hap upon me, it is with hugs and joy, they share tidbits then tell me to get ahold of them. They never have called me. When I do call them they are anxious to set up a date and time to get together, but their fingers have never tapped out my number. They will be at the party Saturday. Oh. Didn't I tell you? I do have a girlfriend who is the complete opposite of me in so many ways. We have maintained a friendship through so much (She deserves her own post, I will expand upon that at a later date) She is the extrovert; the Thelma to our Thelma and Louise Adventures. She asked if she could throw a 'leaving NY

The first time I drove that long 9 hours alone I wondered how I would survive years of this trip. I barely could stand the time away from the girls, from my husband. I was always missing someone. Still am, but the little girls have grown to not need me as much. We are very close in heart and in spirit, but don't need the proximity. They have packed my items with me and they have rearranged, bought new colorful appliances, there are flamingos on our - err, their shower curtains. They have hung posters of concerts and white boards galore with notes of jobs, meetings and plans that they don't need me to tote them to anymore. I am so proud and so sad, and so happy. All at once. I remember carting our two weeks of groceries in the trunk of my car and enjoyed seeing their faces as I had tucked small gifts in the bags for them. As they helped carry  and put stuff away we shared triumphs and disappointments and new friend stories. Permissions were granted, lunch money sorted a