My RIGHT To Know LIFE

Life’s lines get blurred when objective is lost
Many say my rights are of the utmost concern
Why then not counsel before such great cost
Not a decision made lightly, the truth to discern

Offer me solution, without destroying another
Tell me the truth as to what to expect
When offered the choice to abort me as mother
The expulsion of life, to relieve my regret

My anguish and panic are not for abuse
Not to be caught in agenda, while fact not disclosed
The remnant of child kept silent, as part of the ruse
Compassion means more, when life’s not opposed

If truly my rights are of the utmost concern
Truth be told please, in full disclosure
When does the rhythm of heartbeat on, turn
Life’s lines less blurred when in light of exposure

Memories, “Rhymes & Reasons”

imageimageimageimageimage
While out on yard sale patrol, a good friend and I came upon these long lost, but not so forgotten memory makers from days gone by.
I better stipulate right here, that I am one nostalgic old hippie. I love life today, look forward to all the future has to offer and I do so because I celebrate the past.
One thing I have learned throughout the years is that in addition to the visual, the melodic sound of yesteryear provides a much needed music to the soul.
So, needless to say when I see an old radio/record player or better yet 8track on somebodies curbside, I have an overwhelming need to hear the sound of music once again.
On the larger of the two console’s I enjoyed listening to the owner’s own Xanadu of memories on vinyl.
The smaller stereo encased within an 8track, which for me brings back many a memory indeed, not only of the era but of those lost but never forgotten.
After a wonderful day of restoration, I sit basking in the glory of a well worn much much beloved Carole King record, helping me to remember that is in memory we are able to find “Rhymes & Reasons”.

Oh Brother, I Know Where Art Thou

daylily at home
Not too long ago one of my brothers died.
There are four of us kids total, two girls, two boys with one less temporarily.

I’ve been writing about my brother in the last couple of posts.
I will most likely continue to write about my brother for sometime to come.

I believe very strongly that love is never broken. I believe just as much that our loved ones who loved us so, would want us to live, learn and grow in love from their living into death.

This is just the start of acknowledgement to what I learned from my brother;

1. Hate less and love more. For me Christ is love and because I know my brother is now with Jesus, I get much comfort from this.

2. Waste no time getting caught up in petty behavior, whether it be your own or anothers, just don’t do it! It’s usually hurtful to all and so not productive!!!!

3. Say what you mean and mean what you say (I just love this one, because I hate manipulation but have been known to do it).

4. Do not live as if in fear. The worst that can happen is that you try and fail. I think in my brother’s book, it was better to have the guts to fail than to never try at all. My brother was one courageous man and lived life as an adventure.

5. Your family may not be close at hand but love them, praise them, correct them (on occasion) as if they are. Your family is everything Christ has gifted you.

6. For my brother this was his first and foremost lesson for those of us who loved him so. My brother loved his spouse more than life itself. He lived a life where his love for another came before any of his own needs.

Thank you Mike for all you were and all you continue to be.

“Kickin It Up” In The Family Dynamic

This gallery contains 1 photo.

Just like in life, each of us in the family dynamic has a cross we bare. It doesn’t matter if you’ve one sibling or ten; those who know you best are your biggest fans and sometime harshest critics. You don’t … Continue reading

Crossing the Moon River

Norma Joanne was 80yrs old when she crossed the “Moon River”. She had pneumonia for the third time and had been in a hospice for almost two weeks.

While I am so grateful I have not had to experience hospice. I am also beyond grateful it existed for my mother and those of us who loved her so.

There are no words to truly express what it is like to watch someone die. It is agony to see your love one slip in and out of consciousness.

There were so many silent prayers between others and us who knew and loved her.
I believe my mother is now in the arms of Jesus but watching the process of her inevitable crossing was only made possible through a whole lot of love.

The love we had for mom, the love she had for us and the love we have for each other. It was because of the concerned and caring staff within the hospice that we were able to wrap ourselves up in all of it.

They made sure our mother was not in pain and watched over her diligently.
We too felt their compassion for us. I could tell they saw our mother through us crazy kids and I did so want to represent her well.

Our mother loved music, “Moon River” being her favorite. We sat in that room playing the CD player and being as comforted as we hope she was by the soothing sound of Nat King Cole’s “unforgettable”. My sister and brother danced hand in hand. I will never forget that sight of mom smiling as my sister knocked over the pitcher of water sitting at the foot of her bed.
The staff allowed us to be our mother’s kids and seemed to understand when we needed to make fun of each other, laugh and cry. It was a place of love and that is how we all wanted mom to go out surrounded by love and into more of it.

In closing I just wanted to say thank you to Michelle, Janice, Ashley, Chandra, Tim, Cassie, MaryLou, Dr. Sapp all the rest of you who work so hard and care so much. Donna, thank you for being with her at the end.
I will never forget your kindness. In the words of my mother, “you’re sweethearts.”

norma

1948, I’m Tuning In and Turning On!!!!

frntwincabonedropenbeforevintageradio

I have been anxiously (the patience thing hasn’t been working so well) awaiting this piece finished. I was so excited when Gary spotted this at a local yard sale.
The owner had explained, though in rough condition the radio still worked. It was then; Gary explained to me that this was going to be a radio with wine storage. Because listening to tunes and drinking wine are two of my favorite things, my excitement went into overdrive. I about drove my poor husband nut’s encouraging him to “please hurry up and get it done!”

On the drive home, you better believe that seat belt could hardly contain my enthusiasm or me. When we got home and plugged in “Jack” (as in Jack Benny) both Gary and I were amazed. There is something so different and wonderful about sound coming from a tube rather than transistors. I went into immediate nostalgia overdrive.

Now just imagine if you will an over excited, way enthusiastic wife now in nostalgic mush mode. My poor husband!!!!

1948 was the year the Eagles Glenn Frey was born and James Taylor too. Not to mention my darling husband came into the world that very year (a big thank you to his mom and dad from me).
Not that it’s my cup of tea at all but in 1948 Nascar held it’s first race for modified stock cars in Daytona.
The movie Easter Parade came out. Watching Judy Garland and Fred Astaire in all their glory was a great pleasure to me. For years I thought life would be so much better if we could just make it a musical. After all who could get pissy when “singing in the rain”.

It was 1948 that the Wham-o slingshot became a catalyst for the famous toy company. It would be 9yrs later that the hula-hoop would come to be and for me that stinkin hula-hoop has always been my nemesis. I have yet to master that darn thing and have added that feat onto my “bucket list”.

It was 1948 that President Truman won his second term in office. That man truly had the weight of the world on his shoulders. General Patton said, “If you don’t stand for something, you will fall for anything.” Somehow I always relate that phrase to President Truman.

Don’t get me wrong I live in and love being present. But I have a strong need to celebrate and learn from the past. I think that’s what I’m going to do this evening, I’m gonna bask in the glow from the old radio dial and pop the cork on some cheap wine while I tune in and turn on.

Happy Birthday Dad(Thank you for being our DAD)

June 5th 1931 my father was born. February 22nd 2011, my father died. Today as I miss my Dad, I needed to share just a snippet of who he was to me.

I have been thinking of him for weeks leading up to this day. I loved him, miss him and wish I would have let him know more how much I adored him.

With all this said I wanted to write. But not something sad or melancholy. I wanted to write a giggle. I choose to celebrate my Dad today through laughter and I hope some of you can relate.

My Dad was almost as ornery as he was handsome. To his children he was bigger than life. I realize now that Dad was just as big a kid as us and he lived to rattle a cage or two.
I was reminded of this endearing but sometimes embarrassing trait my father epitomized when recently I overheard my husband sharing a story with my grandchildren.
As I listened to my grandchildren howl with laughter I thought of how much my Dad would have loved it. I knew he would have added even a little more flare and shock value. I wanted to share this part of my Dad, the part I loved and sometimes feared just a little, because you never knew what was coming out of that mouth.
So, for just a moment reach back to that awe-struck little kid in each and every one of us. As you sit quietly at Dad’s or PaPa’s feet, just wait for it cause you know you’re not to be disappointed in the tale to be told.

Little Red Riding Hood (with just a twist)

Once upon a time there was a little girl who lived with her mommy and daddy.
This little girl had a grandma who she loved very much. Grandma had not been feeling well as of late. Grandma didn’t live so far off that the little girl couldn’t walk there but then again not just next door either.
The little girl and her mother wanted so much to help grandma get better soon. So they prepared the most wonderful basket of food. They had with delicate precision cut the turkey, cheese and bacon sandwiches. There was homemade chicken soup and hot apple cider. The cookies had chocolate morsels melted within a homemade batter that surpassed anything purchased in the market.
After painstaking food preparation the little girl wrapped herself in her cloak of red and started out for the journey to grandma’s home. Her mother reminded her “don’t talk to stranger’s” and she was off.
Not long into her journey the girl with the red cloak “Little Red
Riding Hood” felt an uneasiness as if someone was following her. She looked about and saw a certain wolf lingering and crouching behind a rock. He had a menacing look about him. She remembered her mother’s words and scurried off.
Further down the road she happened again upon the same scary creature. He looked as is he was up to no good to be sure. He was bent as if hiding behind a small group of bushes. Mother’s words rang loudly in her ears. She ran as fast as her little feet would carry her and as far away as she could get.
Sometime later Little Red Riding Hood knew she was so close to her
destination. She couldn’t wait to nourish her beloved grandma back to health with her basket of love filled goodies. To her dismay though, there he lurked again. He was slouched down and off to the side of a small out building. By this time though, she had enough of his constant and frightening presence. His following her every move had to end here and now. She shouted loudly and forcefully, “why don’t you just go away and leave me alone?” Then to her surprise that slouched down, filthy beast blurted out,
“hey, do you mind I’m trying to take a poop here!”

That’s the version I think my Dad would have loved!!!! I know my grandson’s did.

As “The Eagles” Soar

cowichecanyonridge

It’s late April 2013 and this sunny day warms both my heart and soul. I’ve opened all the windows and let the fresh air breath in new life. There’s renewal in the air and I start to feel the welcome restless spirit of youth that I’m still not too old to forget.
I get way more than a little nostalgic in the spring and summer because I get to be outside. I get to play, garden, drive and just piddle around. There is only one thing that makes my outdoor love affair totally complete though and sends me into nostalgia paradise. I gotta have my tunes cranked up with Eagles soaring on the soundwaves. There is not much better than sunshine on a warm day and the sound of Eagles making like jelly and jammin.

So, when a co-worker lent me the Farewell Eagles Tour dvd, I allowed myself to regress back to the 70′s and blessed memories of people, places and times I will forever cherish.

I remember when most of the men I knew still had hair, I had a neck and when I waved at you my lower arm didn’t wave back.

I also remember when:

Not only the Eagles but The Doobie Brothers, Black Oak Arkansas, Bob Seger and Steve Miller ruled the airwaves and the 8 track tape player.

“Bitchin” was a really good thing and you couldn’t “hack it” without your really “far out” whatever it is you couldn’t live without at the time.

Mike and I hitchhiked to Newport Beach and caught a ride with a disk jockey who went by “Peyote Pete”, good times!!!!

In the early 70′s it was mocassin shoes and hip huggers that were the attire of choice for any self respecting teenage girl. I can remember shuffling from class to class in those mocassin’s. I don’t think I actually lifted a foot off the ground for an entire school year.

Lot’s of guys were then sporting those ever so attractive striped bell bottom drawers. In retrospect I must admit that one style was better left in the 70′s.

Thanks for the memories Eagles, for me you continue to soar.