He has no breath and he takes it slow,
it frustrates him because he so wants to go.
He’s always played hard and was a ladies man,
his charms are not gone, someday he’ll understand.
He packs his air and works to breathe,
So young of heart he still wants to speed.
For one “born ready” this is a bitter pill,
these golden years suck and are going to take some skill.
Change has come to the one I love,
he’s out of breath and his lungs are done.
The virile man he fears has gone,
but I assure him he is very, very wrong.
Sometimes he fears this breath will be his last,
those player days are catching up from his checkered past.
It worries him that he might hear death,
still he says “fuck you” and catches his breath.
He’s watched the others who’ve gone before,
he’s seen the future and the prognosis can be poor.
Enjoy this day, its a gift to you
Waste it away at your own peril, fool.
I was lucky enough to have 4 amazing women in my life, both of my parents mothers and two of my parents grandmothers(besides my mother of course) that helped make me the woman I am today. I learned many things from each of the women;
From my great-grandmother Kate (my mother’s grandmother) I gained an appreciation for music and dancing from watching hours of the Lawrence Welk show with her in her big white leather recliner. My first memory of being empathetic to someone comes from her as well. I was spending the night with her and she was up on the end of the bed coughing, I got up and put my bathrobe around her shoulders and patted her back. I was maybe 4 at the time.
From my great-grandmother Anne (my dads grandmother) who I unfortunately knew for the shortest period of time I gained a love of shortbread cookies, admiration for hard work(she worked in our families plumbing business until well into her 80’s) and a giggle inside whenever I hear someone refer to a child as a wee one, because she always laughed and smiled when her wee ones visited her at her home or in later years in the rest home.
From my grandmother Jean (my dad’s mom), who was one of the most elegant and beautiful women I have ever met; I learned to play chinese checkers, love green peppers and received my first bottle of perfume(Charlie by Revlon).
From my grandmother Buddy (my mom’s mom) who I was so lucky to have in my life the longest I learned; to play Gin Rummy and Cribbage, to pour a drink, to make potato salad and love blue cheese. I flew on my first airplane with her and my rode on my first train. She helped me with my golf game, worried about my love life and always rode my ass about things I was doing wrong.
I really wish I could ask them so many questions, but here are ten I would love ask:
1.) What brought you the most joy in life?
2.) Who was the love of your life?
3.) What regrets do you have if any?
4.) When and where were you the happiest?
5.) What did you enjoy most and least about your occupations? (All of my grandmothers and great-grandmothers had jobs outside the home at one time or another)
6.) What advice would you give me now to live a happier and fuller life?
7.) What would you tell me to quit worrying about?
8.) Who was your first boyfriend, your first lover, your first kiss?
9.) How do you make this dish? (each of them had a specialty and unfortunately I only have a couple of the recipes)
10.) What part of you do you see in me?
If you have special people in your life, ask the questions now don’t wait until it’s too late.
If you have lost someone special in your life, are there questions you wish you had asked?
I travel to my brothers party,
ready to laugh loud and hearty.
His daughter today has made the grade,
and now it’s time to throw her parade.
He brings her friend since second grade,
to grow the fun that they have made.
A suit and tie he does not wear,
for a picture made with flair.
She slips away from the family she knows,
bold and beautiful with a heart of gold.
He stands near his girl with pride,
thinking of the day she’ll be a bride.
The girls a woman now so smart and brave,
my brother’s pride he cannot hide at what he’s made.
Do you ever beat yourself up for things you have said or done? I do, all of the time. It’s usually because of a smart ass comment I’ve made in a meeting that I meant to be funny and people did laugh. But then, afterward, I worry, was someone offended? When the joke isn’t at my own expense, I hope I picked a target with a sense of humor and a willingness to play along. But still, sometimes it nags at me and I feel like I should track the person down and apologize.
I am a smart-ass from way back. I think, quite possibly, I came out of the womb with a raised eyebrow at my mother asking what took her so long. When I came out of my shell, in junior highschool, I might have been considered one of the class clowns; always popping off with something to get a laugh or reaction.
I also constantly use humor, self-depreciation or a silly comment to try to deflect from a difficult situation or when conflict arises between other people or when god-forbid someone gives me a compliment. I think it stems from spending my formative years in a house with a lot of conflict, with parents that spelled swear words at each other. I’m not sure if their thinking was that it would protect my vocabulary because they spelled out F-U-C-K-E-R at each other rather than said the word. But, fucker is actually one of the first words I learned to spell. I spelled it out for my grandpa’s neighbor, Mr. Fox, he was not impressed. I was immediately marched home and exposed. My grandmother laughed when he told her what I was spelling and I was told to go outside and play.
An environmental impact from my youth that continues to afflict me today!
Are you afflicted with anything?
The changes to places, I don’t really mind.
But the changes to faces, oh I really do mind.
Lost are the theater, the restaurant and the park,
but not those who’ve touched my heart.
Faces change with lines and crinkles,
everyone faces the inevitable wrinkle.
But the soul of youth remains,
no matter how many things change.
Our bodies pop, creak and slow down,
some mornings are sore to the bone.
My mind says young, but my back says old,
never more than when I’m on my own.
The playgrounds of youth are a subdivision,
the grade school unrecognizable with my vision.
But the friends who’ve known me at my worst,
are still the friends who love me without derision.
Yes, the changes to places are fine,
but the changes to faces are so unkind.
To those I’ve lost or who’ve left me behind,
you’ll always live on in love in my mind.
Wanderlust was a fun read with lots of exotic locales; including Spain, Pakistan, Papau New Guinea, Australia and more. Romance and sex with what appeared to be a little bit of love sprinkled in for good measure. Stories of the upside and downside of travel, especially in some of the more “male dominated” countries in which she lived.
The giddy feeling of traveling or even more so the anticipation of traveling somewhere anywhere new was palpable and she was more than willing to set aside lovers to pursue her passion for travel. One of the first lovers she left for travel ended this way;
“I was at Whistler with Graham’s roommates when my mother called with the news: The United States had no diplomatic presence in Afghanistan at the time, but the State Department would be pleased to assign me instead to ten weeks at the consulate general in Karachi, in neighboring Pakistan. I jumped up and down on the sofa, yelling “I’m going to Karachi!” Everyone told me this was cool. They had no idea where it was, but they had a world map on their living room wall, courtesy of Graham, and I stood on the sofa and pointed it out. In any case they understood that I would embark on a wished-for adventure, and wished-for adventure was a currency we had in common.
It was then, in the dead of winter, when I decided I would go away again, that we both began to understand that we would break up. I’d made a choice, and it was not to try for love, with all its rick of pain, but to travel.”
I was impressed by her selfish pursuit of travel and going after her dreams despite any romantic attachments she was currently entertaining, but also a little bit critical of her selfishness too. It spoke to my own inner conflict with staying safe and being responsible or jumping off the cliff to pursue my own dreams.
This was one of those books that made me sad for a few days because the adventure came to an end when I finished the book. This book was also another inspiration for my post “I Am Afflicted With Wanderlust” the travel bug is definitely on my mind.
I give it 4 out of 5 Pi! π π π π A fun and entertaining read!
Do you have a favorite travel memoir!
I recently wrote a post about a snarky comment from a reader on one of my “6 Word Memoirs” and even though I wrote about not changing the post because of the comments; if I’m honest my initial reaction was that of having someone yell at me in line at the super market for accidentally brushing into them – apologetic, shrinking away, cowering. I stayed away from that site for a couple of days, even though I was really enjoying the posts and coming up with my own.
When you put yourself out there, show your cards and share yourself, you are not going to please everyone; some people don’t agree with my point of view and some people are just horribly unhappy and want to share that with everyone else.
By nature I am a people pleaser and this is going to be a challenge to my psyche to take the criticism, constructive or destructive, that will inevitably come by putting myself and my thoughts out into the world.
But, this is also making me look at my own behavior and I have to admit I can be snarky and negative with the best of them, though I hope I don’t attack or bully people. But even that, I am sure I have probably done, at some point. I am going to work on that part of myself, what is the saying, “you are what you put into the world” or something like that or maybe its “you get, what you give”? Anyway, I hope you understand what I mean.
I don’t want to perpetuate the negative in the world and my world starts with me and the people around me. From today forward I am “banning the snarking” and a positive approach will be my reaction to every situation even the unhappy or difficult ones, because the only thing I can control is my reaction to what happens around me and to me. I will approach a problem or difficult situation with an eye to solving it in a positive and constructive way. No more negative, bashing, snarky responses that get me and those involved no where.
Now, I know this is easier said than done, as they say, but I am going to consciously try to be more positive in my approach to every situation and I’m “banning the snarky”. Wish me luck.
Do you have any helpful tips for getting through life’s difficulties with a positive approach?