Wednesday, March 26, 2014

A Kiss

Love between two people encircles desires much more
than the sky that encircles the world.
lips touch,
Sending warmth and comfort
No words need to be spoken,
Because the two souls send
Comfort and trust as their lips connect
Eyes closed with a tight squeeze
Words unspoken of
Honey I love you.
A kiss brings peace to the heart and mind.

Monday, March 24, 2014


A journey, an experience, a trial, a joy.

People interest me...they help me to recognize my faults. Where I've messed up and why I respond with certain behaviors. Friends, family, and my children have helped me to sort out my own definition of who I am and what I stand for.

Yesterday, I observed people saying bye to each other. Hugging a loved one with a kiss on a cheek. Others made a point to have eye contact. Some gave a wave of the hand and the common famous words, "Good Bye"

My perspective of each of them, I am sure, was much different. I saw them in a light that I don't think anyone in the room saw. Maybe one or two did, but I doubt it.

I'm sold on the idea that hurtful words can damage the soul. Making you travel on a road you didn't chose or really want, but one you are forced to walk or ride on. I'm a believer that a hug, a smile, or compliment can have a lasting impact on relationships and lives.

The words you speak, the jealously you have towards another person. The fact you let others know you are better, because of your wealth, standing in the family or because you are always right and no one else can say anything.

Why do we hold on to the past? Why do we let the past affect what choices we make when we are older? My choices at the age of ten did mold my teenager years. Then, when I was a teenager the
choices I made have formed me unto the woman I am now. A woman who is lost at times, over the fact I dreamt of a future much different than the one I am living.

Why do we let others bring the worst or the best out of us? Why do we stand shaken with guilt over someone else's problems or mishaps? Why do we look at someone and wonder why they got the better end of the stick?

I'm not the jealous type and I don't give a darn if someone has a expensive car, lives in large big house or has the nicest furniture. Those objects can never hug you, love or praise you. They only last as long as they hold up.

One mean, hurtful word can leave a scar. A scar that makes life useless, meaningless and not of value. Making the scar seem impossible to ever heal.

Anger, sadness, joy, sorrow, frustration, guilt, peace, laughter, loss, and love are only few definition of what my journey in life has been.

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

My Dear Dad

Gently pulling Quentin out of the car, I envisioned my cute, white-haired Dad resting on the clouds above my parents' home. Overcome with a desire to pull the clouds closer, I longed for the memories of my father to comfort me. I pictured his charismatic smile and thought of one of the famous jokes he always shared. I grinned when I spark of sunshine showered me.

There never was a dull moment with Dad, I thought.

I sniffed, trying to revive the familiar scent that had always calmed me in the past, but realized there was no one or nothing could smell like my dad.

My eyes watered as it was only a month that I watched my father rolled out of the house. Sorrow resurfaced and my hands shook, as I realized a few feet from where I parked is where I witnessed them placing my father in the back of a van. My heart had been ripped just the same as the night strangers close the van doors. To erase those gloomy memories, I imagined instead my dad wearing his fluorescent orange hat that had all the grandkids’ names written on it and him struggling to push the old, deteriorated lawnmower across the front yard. First, warmth filled my chest and then I felt a smile stretch across my face with thoughts of Dad, until I remembered he’d never come back, and the warmth gave way. Vacant inside, unable to focus. The emptiness filled my heart and made my stomach feel heavy. Lifting my chin to help fight back the tears, I staggered, held tight to my son’s hand and focused on sidewalk towards my parents’ apartment.