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Prayer Challenge - Day 8
Sep. 25th, 2008 08:57 amKnow well what leads you forward and what holds you back, and choose the path that leads to wisdom.
– The Buddha
This very interesting...
Love you!
– The Buddha
This very interesting...
Love you!
Sep. 25th, 2008
Skip this if you aren't into Tweets
Sep. 25th, 2008 03:15 pmJust tweeting via Twitter...feel free to ignore it you aren't into this kind of thing. :)
- 12:49 being pesterd by the twins to use the computer #
Why, why, why, why, why, why
Do you say good bye
Goodbye, bye, bye, bye, bye
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
~ Hello Goodbye - The Beatles ~
This has been the hardest writing prompt in the history of my writing career. Goodbye is not my thing, really, because I've had to say it soo many times. While the ending has been right, according to the laws of God and Man, the next stage(s) have always been weird.
Goodbyes are really that in between place that poets and crazy people notice. You know, as in "The night said goodbye to the stars...as the morning greeted dew droplets on the flowers...hello I'm still up at 5am to notice these crazy things."
Or, better stated, "goodbye" is a transistion word meant to ease the pain of what is to come be it good/bad.
See...not doing this topic well at all. I'll give it the old college try (meaning I'll stay up all night partying until I've found God on the back of a cereal box) and start a stream of thought onto my computer screen...
This year my mother in law passed away and I did not get a chance to say goodbye. I couldn't even get the change to speak at her funeral. She is the biggest influence on my Married Mommy life. No matter what I face I know that she faced more difficult changes (and survived), and that she truly understood the meaning of love. My first in-depth discussion with her was the flowers in her yard. They were simple, kind and forgiving. When my husband said, "Mom...you'll die out here in this heat," she replied with, "Oh...I hope I do." At the time I thought she might be just a tab bit off...but now I see the wisdom of those words.
I didn't get to say goodbye.
In October 1997 my father became very ill. He was (and still is) the only person who can answer the 2.7 billion (yes, that is an accurate number) questions I have about the things my mom won't tell me. When I met him for the first time, at age 21, it was like that scene in Forrest Gump where Forrest meets his son. They sit the same way, tilt their head the same way, and enjoy Sesame Street the same way. That was how it was with my Dad. Distance and our respective Cancerian stubborn attitudes kept us apart. At the same time we were both dying - he had Parkinsons'; I had addictions. He knew that there was a true love out there for me, because my mom had always been his. Even though his faith system suggested against it, he would eat the biggest plate of bacon any restaurant had on hand.
I didn't get to say goodbye.
My uncle was the only good parent-type person in my life as a child. He was only around for a few months, but the love he shared with my sister and me was way more than what we got from our parents. I learned how to cook, plan meals, take care of myself and appreciate good music while he lived with us. We were always close, and any time he would leave for work/going out/etc. I would cry. He called me his "blue-eyed angel." I miss him so much. When he came back from Vietnam his mind was not his own. Many times he would tell me about how lucky we have it "here in the States," and how life is often wacky. My step-father, who could never accept my uncle's status in life ("baby killing vietnam vet who is recovering from morphine addiction"), would make rude comments and chastise my uncle for any little thing. He went into the hospital because he felt ill...then he died.
I didn't get to say goodbye.
But then again, I just ended my writing business (newsletter production and publishing house), and no one said goodbye to me. Maybe this is a theme in my life...but then again, maybe it isn't
Right now I'm sitting on the edge of my life wondering what in the hell I want to be when I grow up. Since I'm 37, with 4 kids, a husband and all the other "trappings" of the modern married momma, I should have the joy of 40 dancing hummingbirds. But I don't...or didn't, rather...until I realized that I do need to say goodbye to several things in my life so that I may say hello.
In the next few days I will be celebrating my "coming out" so to speak, and leaving all the garbage of my life in a nice recycling center. Unless you really want those particular issues, I suggest that you just let them be. As they lay dying, I will say goodbye to them, as they have allowed me to find who I am. With that "in between" time of the dawn and the dew, where the crazy people reside, I've found that I'm still the person I thought I was, but nothing like I tell people I am.
...and it is time to say goodbye.
(please excuse any typos/grammar issues -- I have a gaggle of typo faeries that live in my office and they've not been given any offerings of chocolate lately)
Do you say good bye
Goodbye, bye, bye, bye, bye
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello
~ Hello Goodbye - The Beatles ~
This has been the hardest writing prompt in the history of my writing career. Goodbye is not my thing, really, because I've had to say it soo many times. While the ending has been right, according to the laws of God and Man, the next stage(s) have always been weird.
Goodbyes are really that in between place that poets and crazy people notice. You know, as in "The night said goodbye to the stars...as the morning greeted dew droplets on the flowers...hello I'm still up at 5am to notice these crazy things."
Or, better stated, "goodbye" is a transistion word meant to ease the pain of what is to come be it good/bad.
See...not doing this topic well at all. I'll give it the old college try (meaning I'll stay up all night partying until I've found God on the back of a cereal box) and start a stream of thought onto my computer screen...
This year my mother in law passed away and I did not get a chance to say goodbye. I couldn't even get the change to speak at her funeral. She is the biggest influence on my Married Mommy life. No matter what I face I know that she faced more difficult changes (and survived), and that she truly understood the meaning of love. My first in-depth discussion with her was the flowers in her yard. They were simple, kind and forgiving. When my husband said, "Mom...you'll die out here in this heat," she replied with, "Oh...I hope I do." At the time I thought she might be just a tab bit off...but now I see the wisdom of those words.
I didn't get to say goodbye.
In October 1997 my father became very ill. He was (and still is) the only person who can answer the 2.7 billion (yes, that is an accurate number) questions I have about the things my mom won't tell me. When I met him for the first time, at age 21, it was like that scene in Forrest Gump where Forrest meets his son. They sit the same way, tilt their head the same way, and enjoy Sesame Street the same way. That was how it was with my Dad. Distance and our respective Cancerian stubborn attitudes kept us apart. At the same time we were both dying - he had Parkinsons'; I had addictions. He knew that there was a true love out there for me, because my mom had always been his. Even though his faith system suggested against it, he would eat the biggest plate of bacon any restaurant had on hand.
I didn't get to say goodbye.
My uncle was the only good parent-type person in my life as a child. He was only around for a few months, but the love he shared with my sister and me was way more than what we got from our parents. I learned how to cook, plan meals, take care of myself and appreciate good music while he lived with us. We were always close, and any time he would leave for work/going out/etc. I would cry. He called me his "blue-eyed angel." I miss him so much. When he came back from Vietnam his mind was not his own. Many times he would tell me about how lucky we have it "here in the States," and how life is often wacky. My step-father, who could never accept my uncle's status in life ("baby killing vietnam vet who is recovering from morphine addiction"), would make rude comments and chastise my uncle for any little thing. He went into the hospital because he felt ill...then he died.
I didn't get to say goodbye.
But then again, I just ended my writing business (newsletter production and publishing house), and no one said goodbye to me. Maybe this is a theme in my life...but then again, maybe it isn't
Right now I'm sitting on the edge of my life wondering what in the hell I want to be when I grow up. Since I'm 37, with 4 kids, a husband and all the other "trappings" of the modern married momma, I should have the joy of 40 dancing hummingbirds. But I don't...or didn't, rather...until I realized that I do need to say goodbye to several things in my life so that I may say hello.
In the next few days I will be celebrating my "coming out" so to speak, and leaving all the garbage of my life in a nice recycling center. Unless you really want those particular issues, I suggest that you just let them be. As they lay dying, I will say goodbye to them, as they have allowed me to find who I am. With that "in between" time of the dawn and the dew, where the crazy people reside, I've found that I'm still the person I thought I was, but nothing like I tell people I am.
...and it is time to say goodbye.
(please excuse any typos/grammar issues -- I have a gaggle of typo faeries that live in my office and they've not been given any offerings of chocolate lately)