Happy Birthday Melynda!

Today is Melynda over at Crazy World's birthday.

Go on, wish her a happy birthday, I'll wait.

And while you're at it, have a piece of cake or even a hot fudge sundae! It's Melynda's birthday, eat what you want!

Just don't overdo it, 'k?

Happy Birthday to one of my favorite bloggers (and friends)!!!!!

 

The Real Blogs of Note

I received an award from The lovely Jewels a couple of days ago. Thank you, Jewels! You like me, you really like me! (Never liked the movie "Soap Dish" so I have no clue why I'm referencing it here).

If you haven't read Jewels' blog please take the time to. I'm always amazed at her wisdom and insight...not to mention her terrific writing style.

In order to properly accept this award I am to share three random facts about myself with you all:

1. I love the movie, "Love, Actually." The soundtrack from that movie makes me all mushy and sappy (more so than my usual mushiness). It is my favorite movie to watch over and over...especially on a plane ride.

2. I won a blue, banana seat bicycles with tassels, basket and bell from The Skipper Chuck show in the 1970's (elementary school...I wanna say 1st or 3rd grade). It was a local daily variety show for kids. I got to sit in the audience with my girl scout troop a few days before and apparently my name went into a drawing. Skipper Chuck was very big on promoting the Jerry Lewis Telethon for MD. I remember several times ordering their "carnival" kit so we could have a carnival in our backyard (no rides, just games, etc) to help raise money for MD. My sister was usually in charge and I remember her setting me up at a booth so people could challenge me to a game of Connect Four.

3. After an emotionally draining post (or posts), I get a high from the newly found me...and then I get needy. I need you to read what I have to say. I need you to comment. I need you to accept me. I NEED! So I take a big step back because, after all, I'm never too comfortable with my growing self. This was evident after this past week's posts (Taxi Cab parts I-VI). I don't have Peanut this weekend, I have hibernated...I'm quite lonely, sobbing for no reason, vegging out, depressed by the very thing that lifted me up the day before! Emotionally exhausted by what I wrote. It was big...and I don't know that I can live up to it. For a change, I'm not waiting for a knight in shining armour to rescue me...but I'm still a ways from being able to pick myself up. So this is probably not considered a "random" fact about me...but it's me.

And now to pass this award on to 7 others. There have been several kind people in the past few weeks who have given of themselves via their writing (and comments). I adore these people. They're extraordinary! It was hard to pick, so I tried to pick people I'm newly acquainted with.

1. Padded Cell Princess - Sweet comments from a far away place, at times you feel like a long-lost "little sister", we are forever linked by our musical noses!

2. Dee from Coming Home to Myself - your ability to connect is a gift. Thank you.

3. Desiree at Driftwood Ramblings - you always leave the most thoughtful comments...and her photos are amazing!

4. The Minute Man's Wife - this woman defines what it means to be a loving parent. "Girl child" need not come from you to be yours. She is yours simply because you love her like she is.

5. Soph - she's fantastic and you'll love her great stories about dating

6. Light208 at Choices and Shadows - her fiction makes me want to write and write and write...she puts her heart into every piece, you can tell.

7. Maxwell - because he's not afraid to say things that we all think from time to time and his wit leaves me speechless sometimes...plus he's following Peanut's Blog and I don't have to censor his comments.

Seven is really not enough....really...so take a look at my list of "The Real Blogs of Note" (to the left of this post). There you'll find some of my most treasured friends.   

Taxi Cab (Part V and VI)

I got carried away writing this afternoon and finished the story...couldn't wait to share the last leg of her journey!

PART V

She saw him as much as possible over the next couple of years. Their relationship brought challenges to both of them, but the strength of that connection took them where they needed to go. It gave them direction when tough choices were to be made and new territory was explored (In all aspects of their lives). It provided comfort when they were not together. They gave of themselves in the purest of ways.

She grew into the woman she always hoped she could be, and he provided a safe place for her to do just that. He learned to remain present and vulnerable, resisting his tenancies for traveling alone yet learning how to ask for that time when he truly needed it…she learned to give him that time without feeling abandoned…never had she been more courageous.

The times they shared in the taxi cab were not to be permanent despite their best efforts. She remained hopeful, never wanting to look at the possibility of reaching different destinations. He desperately wanted to give her that dream, but relocating and uniting their families was not to be.

She heard it in his voice the last time they spoke, she saw it in his face as they said good-bye, she felt it in the way he held her so closely…as if he were trying to make that moment in time last longer. She lay still, wishing for the same.

Deep down, they both knew it was coming, the end of their journey.

They exchanged room in each other’s hearts when they said good-bye. Their words were warm and heartfelt…the beauty in which they said good-bye was a gift.

They continued their travels separately, checking in from time to time to reassure the other the love they had was real.

She showed amazing strength and courage as she set out each day, but still held onto that exquisite bag he gave her. She took it everywhere as she was convinced the contents she had collected while with him defined who she was. His love defined her worth.

PART VI

When she learned he moved on she searched that bag over and over, trying to figure out what could have been missing, why she wasn’t enough. She dug deep and eventually destroyed its delicate features and all that was in it. Dejected, she pulled her old bags out of her closet.

She searched for beauty in the first bag, but chose not to see it the way she did before.

She searched for her voice in the second bag, but the tone was not right and its words echoed a painful past.

She never did recover the third bag…the one filled with stale memories and old experiences…but those memories managed to haunt her dreams.

She wandered hopelessly for a very long time, desperately wanting to feel the way she did in that cab, with that man, clinging to that tattered, exquisite bag…and tormenting herself with the shame of ruining it.

She found herself on a park bench one afternoon, a gust of wind blew her bag off the bench and she chased after it. The bag landed on a street corner and she knelt down to pick it up. When she stood back up she noticed a taxi cab in front of her.

The window rolled down, and the cab driver asked her if she needed a ride. She reluctantly agreed, and opened the door to the back seat. “That back seat is filled with junk, you wouldn’t want to sit back there, trust me.”

She was about to open the door to the passenger seat in the front when the cabbie said, “You seem like you’ve been here a while and I need a rest. If I turn off the meter could you drive yourself?”

She hesitated before taking the keys. “I’m a little rusty," she said.

“Perhaps this will help you. A former passenger left this in the backseat.”

The cab driver handed her a familiar bag. It was the old and stale one she had lost long ago! She peeked into the bag and was amazed at what she saw.

The old memories were fresh and tidy, tucked away in a pocket of the bag. They had been cared for all this time! The rest of the bag was empty, clean and restored to its original beauty…She carefully put the tattered, once exquisite bag in the remaining empty pocket where it could be stored, but not forgotten.

“I think I know where I’m going now,” she said…and the cab driver’s eyes shut, but not before giving her a wink and saying, "You knew all along, you just needed to believe you were ready"

Taxi Cab (Part IV)

The next morning she leaped out of bed and bounded out the door. She had a plan...and out she went.

She left her bags behind that day, abandoning the burden of carrying them...her arms now free to welcome what the day had to offer.

"Where would you like to go today, Sweetie?" he asked when he pulled up beside her.

"Today will be a day of firsts," she said as she entered the front passenger side of the cab.

"Then you'll need this," he said as he handed her the most exquisite bag she had ever seen. It was tiny, delicate...perfect. He knew her so well!

They spent the day exploring new avenues, making love each time they arrived at their destination. The love was intense, complete, connected...which was a first for her.

They took turns driving that day, often getting lost...delighted in what they discovered along the way. They needed no directions. They became equals that day.

That evening she floated home...filling the empty space in her heart with warm light, happiness, confidence. She reveled in the depth of her feelings. "So this is what it feels like," she thought to herself as she cradled the bag he had given her in her arms.

Taxi Cab (Part III)

She thought long and hard that evening about the bag with the voice not worthy of hearing...and about the man in the taxi cab. The sense of peace he brought to her with each visit. She liked how she felt when around him. She saw beauty and depth in those blue eyes, his heart laid out to be loved. She wondered what it would be like to be closer to him...and drifted off to delicious sleep.

The next morning she gathered her bags and set out for the day's journey. She looked for that voice as she walked...hoping she did not lose it in the taxi cab. She realized that she had been walking in circles for quite some time...much like that voice had talked circles around itself.

The taxi cab pulled up and she got in. She sank into the seat with a feeling that his sleep was much like hers the night before. He drove for a while without saying a word. It was her turn to talk.

"I think I may have lost the contents of another bag last night", she said after clearing her throat. "That voice wasn't worthy of being heard, so if you found it, I hope you did not listen. Truth be told, I never liked that voice. It never expressed my needs the way I wanted it to. I'm glad to be rid of it and embarrassed by the way it represented me."

He gave her a smile that said, "I'm listening." She picked up on his cue and began to talk. She talked the entire ride, but the tone was very different than before. She did her best not to rehash what had "been done to her". She took responsibility for her life and her actions for the first time. Her voice was in harmony with her words and pleasing to the ear. Every so often she'd naturally stop and listen to what he had to say. The more she concentrated on truly hearing and connecting with him, the stronger her own voice became.

He drove her around for hours, until their voices were tired. The last breath they shared that evening was a kiss. A gentle and long awaited embrace.

She tucked her new voice into the bag, but realized the contents of the third bag were now gone.

"Wait!", she shouted. He turned around to look at her.

"I dropped something in the back of the cab again...Um, never mind, I can wait until tomorrow...it was old and stale anyway. I will see you tomorrow, yes?"

He grinned and drove off.

She knew the direction she'd take tomorrow and he knew he wanted to be part of it.

Taxi Cab (Part II)

Her mood changed after that evening in the taxi cab. She was quite certain that encounter would be important in her life and she hoped for the chance to repay that kindness in some way.

Losing the contents of that bag did leave her more at peace, but she kept checking and re-checking it for the ugliness that was once inside. She wasn't quite comfortable without it. She had been carrying it around for many years and wore it often.

She ventured out into her new world with a resolve to let the ugliness go. "I must not have needed it or I would have kept it closer," she thought to herself as she walked. A rush of happiness came over her. She stopped, just for a moment, to enjoy it. She walked along some more, the burden of the bags feeling lighter that day. 

The taxi cab pulled up beside her. "I've got time to take you anywhere you'd like to go", he said.

She didn't need to tell him where she wanted to go, he just knew. While he drove, she looked for the ugliness she left behind, but didn't see it.

"The customer after you the other night found this in the back of the cab. The minute I saw how lovely it was I thought surely it must be yours. I took very special care of it. Does this belong to you?"

He held up the contents from her bag. It was hers, alright...but it didn't look anything like it did before. She was delighted to see the real beauty that had been revealed...and started to accept that it just might have been that way all along.

She arrived at what felt like her destination for the day and asked him to pull over.

Her eyes met his and she studied him intently, "Will I see you tomorrow?" she asked.

"Of course", he said, "I'll find you."

She walked away, hugging that once ugly bag closer to herself. When she arrived home she noticed that another bag was missing. This one had the voice that wasn't worthy of hearing!

Taxi Cab (Part I)

She was new to town. Her journey had taken her several places so she had courage on one shoulder and several painful bags on the other. She was learning how to balance the two to make her travels lighter. It was hard when none of the streets were familiar and the roads behind her were still calling. She found herself at a busy intersection one evening, her mind was racing with all that she saw since she awoke...the sun was about to set for the day and the twilight cast a mesmerizing light.

A taxi cab pulled up almost out of nowhere. She had been relying on her own two feet to move her, but the cab was inviting.

"Where to?", the cab driver asked.

"I don't know", she replied.

"Something tells me you're new to this journey," he said. "I've been you, and I can tell you it gets easier. I can also tell you're ready to take it"

He drove around in no particular direction and told her his story. She relaxed instantly and listened, fascinated by the stories he told and saddened by some of the experiences that led him to where he was in life.

"I think I'm ready to get off here," she said with a strength in her voice that surprised her.

He pulled over to let her out. She noticed a kindness in his eyes as they shook hands and parted ways.

When he was out of sight she realized that the contents of one of her bags fell out and into the cab.

She looked in the empty bag and thought, "That's okay,I don't think I'll be needing that anymore."

When You Write

Hello, my trusty blog...how I've missed you this week!

Work was busy, oh sure, but, truth is, I needed a little break. I've learned that's what I need to do when I'm too enmeshed. I was relying on you too much. Now it's time for me to give some of that back, time for me to show how much I cherish you...

With no hopes of anything in return, this I say to you....

I thank you for being my link to the rest of the world at a time when I needed you...you kept me connected.

I thank you for giving me a safe place to say what's on my mind ...you helped me release the joy and (too often times) sadness when it overflows from my heart.

I thank you for accepting me...your graciousness helped build my character and open my mind.

I thank you for standing beside me...you let me stumble last year, and stood by patiently as I redefined your purpose.

I thank you for being my reflection.




What do you see in yourself when you write?

Smelly, Stuffed Dog

I've started a blog for Peanut. Her first assignment was to answer some interview questions by Elisa's daughters, The Hippie and The Scribe. I must admit, it's a bit late and she wasn't her usual talkative self, but Barkley sure poured on the potty humor...I had to edit some of it out. Enough's enough you smelly, stuffed dog!

You can check out Peanut and Barkley's Blog here:

http://peanutandbarkley.blogspot.com/

Shrinkage

I can't believe I forgot to post this.

Peanut and I hit the dollar store last week. She had some allowance and it was burning a hole in her pocket. This is what she purchased. She thought it was funny when I took a picture and said I was going to send it to Whiskey Girl.

It has been in a pot full of water growing for the past few days. It's quite huge at the moment and a little bit phallic...which is funny, because normally you'd have "shrinkage" in water.

His Backbone - Part IV

She dialed her dad's number, "Hey there, Daddy-O".

Her dad replied with his usual "Hiya, Stevie" (the "Stevie" always sounds more like "Shtee-bee" when he says it...and he had been calling her that since she was little).

"Um, dad, I'm going to try and not go all emotional on you, but I wanted to talk to you about something. I was driving in my car the other day and something triggered a memory of my Bat Mitzvah...which made me think of you...sitting at the back of the synagogue. It makes me sad to think that we lost a year with each other. If I could do over that year, I would.

Now her dad is not very good at serious emotion. In fact, the only person he's really capable of doing that with is her step mom. She wasn't expecting him to say anything profoundly emotional. The artist in him makes him warm and engaging...but serious conversations are usually averted whenever possible.

"You were mad and I understood why. We were both working out a lot of things and you were so young. It was too much for you."

"Thank you, dad, and I'm not angry about losing that year with you...I'm just sad it happened, sad we can't get it back"

Without hesitation her dad said, "You may have felt like you lost me, but there was not a moment where you felt lost to me. You were always on my mind and I just hoped each day that we'd work it out. And we did. There's no year to make up for because we never really lost each other."

All these years she had stifled any thoughts about what her dad must have felt during that time and more importantly what he felt about her! That year of "loss and abandonment" that she worked so hard to forget suddenly became a gift for their future...built on the strength of his backbone.

A Spectacular Love Story

I almost forgot to post this!

If my Grandma Ann was still living, today would have been her 70th Wedding Anniversary with my Papa Sam (still living- he's 96!). They were just shy of their 59th wedding anniversary when she passed away in 2010.

I've mentioned before that August 10th is my favorite day of the year. If I ever re-marry it'll be on this date!

Beautiful marriage....lots of bumps, they drove each other crazy (in a loving way), but in the end it was a spectacular love story.

Connections I've Made

I have gone from 4 Followers to 40 Followers in 4 months.

Four Is Enough, but 40 is even better. I love the connections I've made!

Her Backbone (Part III)

She had been asked several times over the course of her adult years what the one thing in life was that she had regrets over. It's amazing how she had blocked that "fatherless" year out of her mind. Something triggered it the other day, and she finally felt some grown-up sadness and regret. She'd take back that year and do it differently if she could.

She wishes she could tell you that the reunion with her father was a profound moment. It wasn't. She didn't wake up one morning and miss her father. It wasn't like that at all. He happened to call and she picked up the phone.

"I'd like it if you'd come with us to the Youth Fair tomorrow," he said. And she agreed...without hesitation. She wanted to go to the Fair...and quite frankly, her mom couldn't afford it. That's what she told herself. It felt that cold. She wouldn't feel the damage until later in life.

Looking back she can barely remember that reunion with the exception that it was awkward. She didn't know her father anymore, and he didn't know her. Slowly things came back together and they just fell back into place, never speaking of that lost year.

Sure they had their moments, and there were times when the anger and hurt of living her parents' divorce would take over, but cutting her father out of her life was no longer an option.

It didn't take courage to go back to seeing her father, the real strength and courage would come much later in life...it was that moment she was in her car last week and realized that she did have one regret. One very big one, and she wanted to tell her father how very sad she was that they lost that year.

She sat in the sadness a little bit, letting herself feel that loss without it overcoming her. Writing helped.

She dialed his number, one of the few numbers she knows by heart.

"Hey, there, Daddy-O,......" she said as she straightened her backbone.

It's Whiskey Girls' Birthday - Bravo Maxwell!

I was going to do a birthday post for Whiskey Girl this morning, but I think Maxwell said it best. So click here for the awesome post on WG's site:

Whiskey Girl's Birthday Wishes

Happy Birthday Whiskey Girl...and

Bravo Maxwell

Birthday Calendar

Whiskey Girl's birthday is tomorrow.

I'm the person in my family who reminds everyone about other family members' birthdays. I've been that person for as long as I can remember.

I'd be happy to carry that tradition over to my Bloggerhood, so in the Comments section send me your birth date.

Mine is November 26th.

Her Backbone (Part II)

"Your father's here, won't you please let Papa take a picture of the two of you?"

Her Grandma Ann stood in front of her with a concerned look on her face. She could see the pain this was causing her, but she couldn't get past her own pain.

It was her Bat Mitzvah. It had been several months since she had spoken with her dad. She told her mom not to invite him. He came anyway and sat in the back of the synagogue. He was wearing slacks, a leather jacket, and boots...that image stays with her for some reason.

She stood in her steel blue dress and pretty, black Pappagallo sandals, choked back the tears and said, "I can't do that, Grandma." The look of desperation in her Grandma's eyes was painful. Her dad quietly left and her grandparents never brought it up again. She wasn't mad at them, they just wanted their grandchild to have her father back, they wanted to make things right again.

Her Bat Mitzvah party was at their house...her mom rented a jukebox and bought two huge tubs of ice cream (the size of the ones they have at the ice cream parlor). Peppermint, with the bits of candy. It wasn't the big party that her sister had a couple of years earlier, but it was fun. Though the house had it's problems, it did have the most amazing screened in patio in their backyard. It was huge. Many a stray kitty and even a wounded duckling would live on that patio. There was a grill that she put together with her mom, piece by piece. For some reason she'd always remember the man at the store wanting to find someone to come over and put it together for her. Her mom said no. The man eventually gave up, but not before loading her up with free grilling utensils. Her Grandparents were, of course, at the party. Their relationship with their daughter-in-law did not change after the divorce. They were always so good and loving to her mother, and the feeling was mutual. This was perhaps the most meaningful relationship ever modeled to her.
 

Years later, when she was not quite 32, she sat at her Grandmother's bedside in the hospital. It was their last visit before she passed away. Almost twenty years had gone by and, out of the blue, her Grandma wanted to apologize for asking her to take that picture with her father. She cried as she held her hands and told her Grandma Ann no apology was necessary, she knew she was doing what she thought was best.

She had no idea how deeply that moment affected her Grandma...it saddened her to think that weighed so heavily on her backbone. 

Her Backbone (Part I)

It was Sunday morning. This morning was going to be different. She had enough.

Her heart beat heavily as she marched to the station wagon in her driveway. A man rolled down the window, it was her dad.

"You don't get to tell me I can't go away for the weekend with my friend because Sunday's are your day. It's not fair! And I don't want to see you today."

Caught up in her anger she ran back into the house...her house. The home her father never lived in....it wasn't big like the last house. The linoleum in the kitchen was so filthy they had to get on their hands and knees and scrub it clean. Her wicker bedroom furniture barely fit into the room that was half the size of her last room...but her mom let her get the yellow blinds (even though they looked funny from the outside of the house looking in).

The first couple of weeks he tried to get her to come along. He'd sit and wait a few minutes in the car before driving away. He never came to the door of her home. He couldn't. Her mom wouldn't have it, she was too wounded by the divorce. Each week she'd tell herself, "Better to stay home, mom might need me."

A month of Sunday's went by and she still refused to spend them with her father. Her older sister and younger brother still went with him. After a while, nobody talked about it. She was 12. She really didn't know what she wanted, she just knew everything hurt...so Sunday after Sunday she'd watch as her dad drove her brother and sister away for the day. They'd come home later that night, just in time to get ready for bed and school the next day.

Some might say she was lucky to have her mom to herself for one day each week, but she really didn't...have her, that is. Her mom was in survival mode back then and would often re-hash and re-live the betrayal. That was all her mom thought she had.

At 12 it was like she, herself, was going through a divorce...so on Sundays she'd sit there with the adults and hear about adult things that she couldn't understand. Her mom was so hurt she couldn't muster a word of encouragement to her about repairing her relationship with her dad. After all, her actions were, in a twisted way, an affirmation that her mom had been wronged in her marriage, she needed her to defy her father ...it was as if her mom drew strength from her backbone.

Would It Be Wrong Wednesdays...Early Edition

Would it be wrong
If I sent The P.A.N. an email and reminded him that it's not only time to pay June, July and August's child support, but it's also time TO GROW A PAIR?

Would it be wrong
If I tell the 59-year old man who keeps emailing me on Match to point his limp noodle in someone else's direction and leave me alone? Dude! You're OLD!!!!!...emailing me with compliments three times in two days isn't going to change that.


Would it be wrong
If I accidentally taught Peanut the words "Ass crack" while playing a mean game of UNO the other night? Tushy Buns Crack just didn't sound right in this instance...and it threw her off her game allowing me to win!


Would it be wrong
If I admitted that I'm addicted to blogging and I started writing this Tuesday afternoon when I was supposed to be working hard?

UPDATE 8:26AM: The comments I have received for this post have actually been better than my post...which is awesome. Thank you Maxwell and Julianna! (PS- sorry, I don't have time to insert their links, and well, frankly...Maxwell is having his "link" repaired this week...check their blogs out via the right hand column. They're fun to stalk, really....Is that wrong?)

Cheers, My Friend

I've said it before, this girl is awesome. I'm so lucky to have her in all circles of life (blogger and everyday...I know! Aren't you jealous).

So, crazy busy again today...thought I'd highlight a favorite blog of mine instead of writing anything meaningful myself. Her Nonna Nonsense is sure to make you laugh and if you don't, then you're either a guy or seriously have something wrong with you.

Click here for Snippets For Sanity

Cheers, my friend!