Spring Colors- Haiku

Our hopeful hearts smile

with sweet anticipation

the colors of spring

Today I am sick!

It's all about work ethic.....and it makes me CRAZY!!

This morning I called in sick!

Why? Because I'm sick! Simple, right?   Not so much, not for me. 

You see, even when I'm sick, missing work has always been a big problem for me. Feeling guilty, like I was letting others down.

So, unless was delirious with fever or unable to remove myself from the porcelain throne, I was obsessed with the idea going to work.....

For instance, this morning, even with minimal sleep and a multitude of  flu-like symptoms, I dragged myself out of bed, into the frigid darkness to shovel what turned out to be excessively heavy snow. (Because I needed to go to work)

But this time my body revolted  "No!" it exclaimed loud and clear.

Weak and shaky from a combination of illness, shoveling, and loss of spring chicken status, my body had finally had enough!   Take off work....it warned me, dramatically threatening to collapse. 

I did, with a promise to take things more seriously.

SO....

In the future I my plan to follow my own advice:

• Stay home if you don't feel well.....
• People would prefer you to stay home if you are potentially contagious 
• Your body is sending you warnings.....you need to take them seriously.
• You need to rest Missing one day now can save you from missing several days, later.
• And finally, you are needed, but you can only give 100% to others when you are healthy yourself.
• Be honest with yourself, if you'rd sick, you'r sick.

Today, I am sick!!

The Final Rose

No matter how hard I try to be deep and sensitive, or how educated I portray myself to be, sometimes I just don’t go below the surface. This would be one of those times.

Is it sad that the only thing I can focus on at the moment is, “Who is Juan Pablo going to give the final rose to?” and “I hope neither of those (fill in the blank with your choice of expletives) gets the rose. They don’t deserve it!”
In case you have no idea as to what I am referring, I will simply say, that, thanks to my daughter, I share a silly addiction to the show “The Bachelor”. As I type, it is recording on my DVR.

If you personally think the show is a little on the shallow side, you’re probably right. So, there must be a reason millions of people, (women specifically) seem to be magically drawn to their televisions. I have the answer. A picture's worth 1000 words.....(see Juan Pablo above) ....

Until next time, my fellow Bachelor fans and foes alike...

Happy Birthday Sweet Child....

Oh Sweet Child 

I feel your desolation 

as your tentative fingers reach 

deeply into your pockets

searching 

for the coins you've set aside

especially for today

Oh Sweet Child

I recognize the yearning in your eyes

and flutter of anticipation your chest tries so hard to conceal

You've placed the last of your hopes 

into a dilapidated pay phone

that you know will not deliver

Oh sweet child

You feel betrayed

by sting in your eyelids

the  pain in your belly 

as your heart plummets 

 and the harsh hand of reality slaps you

in the face

Oh sweet child 

You're not a woman
 but a child

wanting nothing more than to be

safe and warm

 not lost and cold in this heartless city of loneliness

Oh sweet child

I know so well

the sacredness of the

 secret you hold deep within your heart

the tiny part of you that

wishes 

just for awhile

you could go back 

to the familiarity

of the hell

you once called home 

Oh sweet child

If I could 

I would go back to the night of

Your 17th birthday 

and let you know 

what I now know to be true

you are brave and strong beyond what you know

and

will celebrate many more birthdays

none of them 
being

alone

Oh Sweet Child

Oh sweet child

I can feel your pain

as you sit in silent anticipation

desperately wanting

your existence will be acknowledged

Oh sweet child

I can feel your fear

as you tremble in darkness of your room

trying to escape the bedlam

of "yet another night" violent fighting

Oh sweet child

I can see the glistening tears 

streaming down your bruised and pale cheeks

as you open your heart 

 pour  out its contents to God

and wonder what you did wrong.

Oh sweet child

I wish 

for just a moment

I could erase that chasm of time

that will forever come between us

and talk to you

the frightened, motherless child 

who's temporarily lost her way.

 If I could

I would tell you

that

 everything will be okay.

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Today I feel invisible

I've been working diligently on pieces for a couple of days, and still kind find one good enough to be taken out of  "the posts I may never finish" category.

My head is in a funny place, and when this happens, nothing seems to fit.

Are my pieces too long? Too emotional? Too boring?

Am I seeking too much approval?

Am I expecting too much of myself? Am I too critical?

Do I even belong here?

Today, probably not!

My creativity is tapped, my inspiration exhausted

Today, I should just forget about my blog and visit facebook

It know its  kind of sad and very superficial, but when my self esteem needs a boost, facebook is where I go.

 It's a place where my writing doesn't matter.  I don't  have to "think" about the content of my writing, and that makes things easy. Deep or frivolous, serious, or funny, it always comes down to one thing.
The "like" button.

Instant gratification, that's what I'm talking about!.  Depending on the post, I can recieve fifty or more "likes" within a matter of  hours, and while it's only fantasy, it sometimes feels good to revel in  moments of percieved popularity.

The truth is, I love my blog.
In fact, I love it way more than I'll ever love facebook.
But on days like this, when I'm tired and vulnerable,
and there is no confidence to be found
I wish my blog had a "like" button.

Learning to smile again

Learning to smile again...

It has been one year, four months, and nine days since I was, quite unexpectedly, tossed into the abyss of widowhood. But, sometimes, the pain is a fresh as the very first day....and I just want to feel better. 

Last year, with a little prodding, I decided to join the Slice of life challenge. Slicing, it turned out, was incredibly therapeutic. As I wrote, I allowed the grief to flow freely through my fingertips, and express it ways I could never do out loud.  This morning, in a moment of sadness, my heart began seeking a cure. It occurred to me that "writing therapy" may be the answer.....  My internal conversation went something like this.....

Maybe I'll  write about John today.....

PSSSH!  Seriously? and what would be the purpose of that?

Don't you remember how therapeutic it was to share? And .... it could be interesting.....

Ummm.... Not interesting!! Redundant is more like it... like throwing yourself a pity party.... trust me, nobody wants to read about that!

I know, but I think it will help, and what about all those lessons?  They're important, right?

Well, .....they could  potentially help others....but......

And what about the progress I've made????

Excuse me!  The progress YOU'VE Made?

"Oooh", I nodded slowly, acknowledging my inner voice out loud.... 

Once again, my fingers flew across the keyboard.....expressing freely through my writing exactly what I needed to say.

Lesson #1. GRATITUDE

It is with the deepest of gratitude I dedicate this post to you, the loving community of friends, family, and coworkers, who have remained by my side even during my very darkest hours. 

Your patience, (when I wallowed in self pity),

Your encouragement, (when I chose to place blame), 

Your smile (when I had nothing but tears)

Your kindness (when anger consumed me )

Your wisdom (when I could't comprehend)

Your words, faces and actions remain with me; a permanent  record to keep eternally in my heart.

Thank you for being my life-line!