Posts Tagged ‘life’

Scream Silently

Posted: December 21, 2012 in Uncategorized
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I can’t begin to imagine that I have no way out. Resounding confirmations for change come from all sides of my brain. It sounds much like an empty church with creaky 100 year old wooden floors where many deep secrets have slithered through the cracks into the depths of no where. The ideas echo whilst slowly they die. Do this. Stop doing that.

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Take control.You know better. You’re smart. You can accomplish anything in life you choose to pursue. I, in a very quit voice respond to the overly-zealous crowd in my head, “I already know all of these shoddy things,” I  then scream silently in anguish trying to push away pain. While not a peep leaves my chapped white lips they are at once attended to by warm salty tears. I push all thoughts aside and slumber.

 

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Alone

Posted: January 6, 2012 in Death, Family, Life, Love, Memories, Poetry
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My gut wrenches with the thought that I don’t have you anymore. You are gone from me for now. Shall we some day be reunited? Each breath I take is taken with that purpose alone in mind. Your last ones were not mine to hear. I left you in the care of deep love and comfort. You weren’t alone.

Nobody knows how this feels inside. I’m empty without your smile. Always a good word you spoke. You spoke the truth. You taught the truth. You loved deep. You fulfilled your responsibility while on earth. You followed the footsteps as spoken by The Word. The foundation beneath many is there because you cared. You took me by the hand. Yes, you cared. You never left me alone.

Many are foolish enough to convince themselves into believing that the changes you made throughout the years didn’t impact who they were. I am here to state that they are quite wrong. We loved and learned to love through the changes you made in your life. For this I am very grateful. He drew you and I followed your lead. They have made a choice to walk alone.

You were so strong. Frequently I ask myself from where did you draw your inner strength? Ah, but I know. You didn’t do it alone. You were a success through many failures. But no, indeed you didn’t do it alone. Neither shall I. For when I am weak, indeed it is true, for that too is when I am also very strong. Never alone.

Who shall take your place? The lines on my face are deepening with this concern. Did you think anyone could? Was that your expectation? Many times you told me how much I was like you. I am happy you told me, but were you saying this in preparing me for the journey which you already knew so well? Daily I look at myself and know I have the responsibility of making this choice. Since I am so much like you I shall never be alone.

I saw it in your eyes on that last day. You couldn’t speak anymore  but you were telling me with your eyes. It was the expression in them that caught my heart and took my breath. I give way to tears even today when I think of how you looked at me. Did I truly understand? Did I read your expression correctly? Was I helping you through your last day in a way that brought you the comfort you so needed and deserved? If I did it wasn’t I alone.

I whispered his great name into your ear and told you he was there with us. He had your right hand as I stood on your left. We all three had a very special bond in those minutes. Even those around us who couldn’t see him standing there saw the affects his love imparted upon us. They even remarked upon it. Your breathing was calmer. You were peaceful. I hope it touched their hearts. Most certainly it touched mine. For I knew we weren’t alone.

I too shall take the road less traveled. But never alone.

 

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Soup and Love

Posted: December 4, 2011 in Family, Food, Humor
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It’s a great day to make some soup. The rain, wind and slight breeze dictate this to me from the moment I rise. Something warm and spicy will hit the spot. Must warm the soul. So, next decision…traditional Italian Minestrone, Mexican Southwest Tortilla or Clam Chowder? I say to myself, “Mexican” and go with it. In all honesty, Mexican won’t require a trip to the grocery store, so my spiel about making a choice really wasn’t all that difficult, and made before the words Italian or clam came out of my mouth.

I love cooking for my family. It’s really very entertaining and to some degree requires a bit of acting skill. Once any trace of activity occurs in the kitchen and the burner is hot, one at a time, the family slowly files through the kitchen with their inquisitions and suggestions. It is almost as though someone went through the pains of choreographing their moves. It is just hilarious, because I know in advance who likes what and so-on, so my choice of words, as well as ingredients, are selected with great care. I too am part of this fine production called dinner. My lines spoken well as I play the part of my own sous chef and leading actress.

The first family member strolls in. It’s mama. The kitchen is her domain, so when anyone decides to play her role they better do it well. Mama approaches in a nonchalant manner which is very deceiving. She’s pretty subtle most of the time, but that could be a sign she’s about to take over. So I proceed with caution. In a way she kind of reminds me of Lady Gaga disguised as Sophia Loren. She has a beautiful a luring demeanor but could suddenly break-out with an off-the-wall suggestion. Which she does while remaining in character, “We have some fresh zucchini. Why don’t you throw some in there?” I calmly acknowledge her suggestion, but refute the idea stating how this would certainly take away from the distinctly Mexican flavor of the dish.One thing I decided would warm us on this chilly afternoon. She rolls her almond-shaped eyes and saunters off stage-left, and although she disagrees, I think she enjoys an occasional travesty in her kitchen.

The next performer is my son. He is definitely THE drama-king within the familial generation to which he was born. You may recall I said choose my lines wisely. He is the main reason I do so. We don’t use words like: onions, tomatoes or bell peppers…My god that would certainly bring an abrupt end of the world. This I just don’t understand. How could I have given birth to a child whose culinary repertoire does not include some of the most likely and well-liked ingredients for any Italian household? Was there a mistake at the hospital? Had they slipped me the wrong child? “No” I acknowledge to myself. He looks too much like the family. It’s just a fluke in his DNA. SO…(in a whisper) just between you and I, if any of the foregoing ingredients are called for, it’s not decipherable, and never omni-present, and I didn’t just say that.

On this particular occasion, the last one to enter, right on cue, is my youngest brother. He loves to eat, loves to cook, and is very good at it. There’s only one very small problem today. He doesn’t like soup. And, this is truly an issue because although we might be able to hide onion in any given recipe or distract mama from adding whatever is in the frig…I have not discovered any way to make soup look like anything but, well…SOUP. So, I tell him after a slight slip in my stellar performance that “it’s kinda like spaghetti sauce, except you serve it over tortilla chips instead of pasta.” He laughs and says, “good try.”

The final result of my Academy-Award-worthy meal? Delicious…everyone eats and knows better than to ask any questions. Ciao!