Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Oh my papa

Continuing from  my last post... this is another homework assignment from my recent writing class. We were asked to write about a place we have sat.  I took an older blog post I had written years ago and elaborated a bit.  It was wonderful  having the critique of my classmates and teacher but Maybe I'm stubborn, except for changing the title I decided to leave my story the way I had written it. I will explain at end... 
                                        Oh my papa
My dad passed away when I was 3 years old. The memories of him are ingrained in me because of the stories I've heard about him. I couldn’t possibly have actual memories of him considering I was so very young. Dad had a heart condition that was brought on from having Rheumatic Fever as a child. He was frail and restricted from strenuous activities. 
One of my favorite stories that I was told often from many family members was how he always carried me around on his shoulders. I had heard it so often that I began to see the image in front of me vividly. No matter where we went, it was me on top of pop, my curly unruly brown ringlets bouncing into my meatball-sized eyes, with that funny lipless smile I had had (that is before the self-conscious teenage me practiced like crazy to change it.)  I see my Dads Kramer-like wild curly hair acting as a nice nest for my tiny baby hands. I see his secure hands locked protectively around my gauzy dress and rounded back. I see his gentle smiling eyes and matching lipless smile looking up at me. (Those same soft expressive hazel eyes it chills and thrills me to see on my eldest son.) I also see my frazzled, boisterous mother who, I was told, worried that I was too heavy for her sick husband to carry, she would constantly yell at him “put her Down!!” As a parent now myself, I sure understand why he didn't listen to her. If you know you aren't going to be with your kids for too much longer, I’d think you take your chances and hang on tight while you can. I imagine him just laughing and saying to her “Oh stop yelling, I’m fine! Look how happy she is”
The weird thing about losing a parent at such a young age is that it seems the grieving process may be opposite of the same loss as an adult. As an adult the pain is present for a very long time but it fades the longer time has passed. All the years of happy memories seem to comfort my friends who’ve experienced this sadness. The opposite is what I've been experiencing. Of course at 3 years old I had no clue of what was happening to my family, to my world. As I grew, there were times I felt curious and times I felt ashamed about not having a dad. During my teen years, I thought often of him and wanted to hear all the stories and "get to know" him. As a young woman planning my wedding I wept for him, for all he had missed. Wept Knowing that he wouldn't walk me down the aisle. He wouldn't know the woman I had become or the wonderful man I was planning on spending my life with. Later I grieved for him not knowing his three amazing grandsons. Heart-broken that they lost out too.
 Now, 52 years after Dad has passed, I still get choked up as I am right now trying to write this. It may happen while taking a walk or just hearing a touching song. Just thinking of my Dad always leads me to those awful ‘if only’s “ If only he hadn’t been sick, if only he hadn’t left his 3 forgotten children. If only.
Last night I awoke from a heavenly dream and for a sleepy second or two I thought I actually did truly remember it all, just as I have imagined it for all of these years. Little me, in my first happy place, sitting weightless and carefree, smiling brightly while being carried off into an idyllic childhood. Cradled on my beloved Dads loving shoulders.
My story was Originally title Oh Pabbi Minn. It's the Icelandic version of Oh my papa by bjork. It brings me to tears every time I hear her beautiful voice sing it. My class felt I should have talked about the title somewhere in the story. I felt it took away from my story. So I decided instead to use the english title here. I'm not going to listen to you either!! but am interested to know...what do you think? 

Friday, May 22, 2015

writing class

 J  judicious persistent Jaunt
O  optimistic endless quest
U  unraveling self-awareness acceptance forgiveness
R  reflective responsible resolved
N  nurturing self-preservation passion potential purpose
E  energized engaged enlightened

Y  you. Your lifelong voyage to self-discovery

I haven't had much time to write these days, so I was excited when I saw my library had a writing class for 3 wed. eves in April.
I signed right up! I'm Just sharing one of my homework assignments.
We were to write an acrostic poem for journey. I've been really trying to work on many of the attributes I wrote about. From what I gather from so many of the amazing women I see in my salon, there are SO many of us always working on this. How difficult is it to forgive yourself?  What about self-preservation? It's not until we grow older and wiser that we see how important it is to sometimes have to distance ourselves from friends even relatives to preserve our own sanity, our own pride. 
I hear so many heart wrenching stories of unforgiving stubborn behavior in many relationships. parents not speaking to their own children. Siblings squabbling over nonsense. How many times should we subject ourselves to heart ache and unjustified criticism and abuse? Much of it really is downright abusive. I was so happy when recently one of my sweet sensitive friends valued herself enough to say, "That's enough".  She walked away from a relationship that had caused her nothing but heart ache. She is a hero to me. I am still having such a hard time with self preservation. hmm..
Forgiveness too, but my journey is just that.. and if it truly Is a life long journey, I sure hope I have much more time to get to.. Enlightenment. :)

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

forever friend

My beautiful Cockapoo Molly has gone to rest
She was always so loving, so sweet
 Even times when she was being a pest
My heart is so broken, so hollow
She’s gone way too soon
I can feel her presence in every empty room

As I puzzle over why a dogs life’s extremely brief
A lesson discovered helps me cope with my aching grief
They’re here to teach us that our lives are preciously brief as well

So Instead of worrying about all the small stuff
We need to learn how to howl, bark or yelp
Always have fun! Run! Jump! Sleep well! Play!
Live life to its fullest each and every treasured day
Take nothing for granted, Love your fellow man
And always go outside whenever you possibly can!

Cherish each gesture of love and affection
Love unconditionally, forgive, pay attention
Greet everyone like they've been gone far too long
Enjoy your meals, treats and howling a good song

Our pets lives may be brief but they’re happy for most of those years
While we spend our extra days overly stressed or in tears
If we take cues from our dogs and the messages they send

Our lives can be happier like those of our cherished tail-wagging friends.

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

I am woman hear me roar? I've got to be me? Why you gotta be so rude?

I'm not sure if there was an exact date that it happened to me but it was sometime after this last birthday. Fifty-five, FINALLY it happened.
  Like those who quit smoking and proudly know that exact moment they took control, I kind of wish I had an exact date to celebrate each year, to make telling my little story right here or to my friends a little more official. A little more like the Big deal I feel it is. I know and admire so many who've had it happen to them at a MUCH younger age and then there are those I've met, bless their hearts, who seem to just be born with it.

I'm talking about confidence. Specifically The Confidence it takes to Refuse to take anyones bullshit anymore. I'm Done. that's all I keep saying in 2015.  I'm done.  I don't know how else to explain the feeling.  I am just not letting ANyone ruin my happy, positive heart.  I don't want negativity to crowd a heart that truly is looking for the good, looking for a peaceful groove. Looking to just exist in a happy environment, looking to continue to be kind to others and breathe comfortably in my skin. Skin that I am so grateful to be in. I'm grateful to be healthy, to be here, to give love and be loved. As much as kindness is my motto and I've really tried to spread that kindness even in the face of rudeness. I'm done being foolishly kind. If you are rude to me I will sure let you  know how rude you are or how you're making me feel. Because, it's bullshit to treat people like they're beneath you. It's bullshit to spread your toxicity and your own miserableness. It's bullshit not to try to be kind to others. "when given the choice between being right and being kind, choose kind.~ Dr Wayne W. Dyer” 
Being a hairstylist, there's a lot of rudeness that I've just accepted and usually try to just brush off. (eh hem).
  Like a client who could for example ask.. "lu, can you razor my bangs again", but instead rudely states ... "today You're going to razor my bangs".
That client? well, they better be careful now. First off, even with the old me... hello! I've got a very sharp razor near your rude face!
(and I'm sicilian!! :)

 Happiness is contagious. Kindness is contagious. Negativity is too. I don't want to be around anyone who is going to continually bring me down and drain my energy. Energy vampires. Of course we all have our bad days and days where we rant in our blogs :)  or to our friends and family and I truly DO want to hear when people I love are having troubles or a bad day. But I'm talking about those  people who spread negativity every freaking time they're with you. I'm done. Life is definitely too short to waste on them. I may lose a couple of relationships. I am definitely going to lose a few clients.  No matter the consequence for speaking my mind and expressing my feelings.  Love me/hate me, it's your choice.
This is an empowering feeling. I wish it would have happened to me sooner. But I'm just happy it happened and I'm feeling good about it. that's all I wanted to share today.
I'm done.

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

I didn't think I would remember how to log into blogspot...it's been that long. thanks to the encouragement of my friend giggles I gave it a shot. I have nothing to rant about today. No funny husband stories to share. I probably won't even correct my run in sentences. I just thought it may help me feel better to talk about my poor little Molly. My cockapoo.. her picture right there on the right side of this blog --  
She was diagnosed with an enlarged heart in the summer. Despite the meds she is on, she isn't doing too well. The dr. had said some little dogs do very well on the meds, some go downhill quickly.  A dogs lifespan is just too short. She is only 10 and I think her breed can live as long as 16. Even 16, too young.  

She makes a hacking noise that sounds like she may vomit or cough something up, but it's just her trying to catch a good breath. Some nights she sleeps peacefully, some nights she's up all night. I give her cough meds on those nights and try to rub her belly to calm her down which also helps. 
The other day she ran in from outside and literally collapsed right in front of me.the look of panic in her beautiful brown eyes while gasping for air. Oh my god, it was so scary. I yelled out with fear, but quickly acted calm and spoke calmly to her and she was able to regain breathing and stand up okay.  I feel she is still having quality of life so I just don't have the heart to put her down. It's not her time yet. But. I know. it's soon. It's so heartbreaking to love a pet and have to lose them. I've been down this road too many times before. Two of our dogs passed away WAY too young. This is the first time I have older dogs and it sure isn't any easier on the heartstrings. 

Cosmo is going to be 13 in January. He is now hard of hearing has many lumps and bumps, arthritis in his legs, and will soon need some anal surgery! Ew. 
Our little friends touch our hearts and lives in such joyous ways. they are always there with their unconditional love, happy tails and devoted companionship. 
When they are gone, so many of my routines will be empty without them. Every time I get ready for bed, Cosmo gets slowly up from his nap, stretches and watches my moves...waiting... patiently for me to get into my bed.  He doesn't go into his doggie bed, which is right next to my side of the bed, without me going into mine or without me letting him know it's okay to go without me. He waits by the kitchen sink while I clean up, He sits by the bathroom door as I brush my teeth. If I say.. Go ahead boy you can go to bed... he will cock his  cute little head to the side and go on without me.. but if I should realize I forgot to do something in another room, and I leave that bathroom and DONT go right to bed...  I hear his little nails on the floor and he finds me and curls up right next to me again. 
I will miss these little friends so much. All I can do for them now, is give them my devoted companionship, keep them happy and love them unconditionally. 

Friday, February 14, 2014

apple turnover

Ny has been hit with one of the worst winters. There's SO much Snow everywhere I look, I am imagining it may still be here for my August Birthday. If you've visited me before, you may have read that my husband, affectionally referred to here as Mr. Petals, has always been a bit of an over thinker. Maybe you would say a perfectionist? Maybe I could say he has a bit of an OCD? Our sons on the other hand instead just say he is  F***ing CRAAAzzzy!!
SNOW removal Mr. Petals style? WELL..While every one of my neighbors deal with slushy, icy walks, stairs & driveways at their homes... those areas on our 100 x 100 lot (and even on a section of the street in front of our home!)  look like we've just had a little sprinkle of rain.

When did this obsessive,-do everything Thoroughly, -go beyond the normal- type of behavior happen to Mr. Petals??  I couldn't help wondering this when my son Nick, during the last snow storm, came to me frustrated, angry and venting his "F***ing crazzy" opinion from above.  "MOM!! he is CRAZY, he wants me to use the leaf blower and BLOW the PuDDLES!! BLOW THE PUDDLES MOM!! WE JUST SHOVELED FOR 4  F***ING  hours and NOW I have to blow puddles??!!! IS HE KIDDING ME??!!"

As I tried to give a sane answer to my beautiful boy, A memory came vividly drifting back to me... Over 30 years ago, While I was dating my Mr. Petals, I remembered HIM venting to me that HIS Dad would wake up SUPER early on the weekends and do CRAAzzzy  things like HOSE off the driveway! Wash the floor of the garage!  WASH the outdoor garbage pails! and expect his son to help him do these chores too!  I often heard frustrated angry venting back then like...
"WHO the hell cares if GARBAGE pails are dirty??" " GARage floor?? Is he F***ing CRazy??".

Hmmm.... Is it true? we all turn into our parents??

I recently visited my mom who has been a saver for many years but who has now unfortunately begun hoarding.
There were so many papers in her home that to begin the shredding process could take a lifetime. I looked around her home and just broke down crying. I've read that hoarding is typical with seniors who don't quite know what to toss and what to keep.
I came home from seeing her and immediately began tossing out papers and cleaning up draws. Organizing things that have been on my mind to organize. Thinking to myself, The apples may not fall far from the trees, but this pink lady is Going to try like hell to roll as far from her crazy tree as possible!
I'm wondering if there is an age where this all begins? After all, As teens and young adults aren't we all totally rebellious to our parents actions?  When did you begin to see signs that you're possibly turning into your parent?
As for Mr. Petals, Well.. I talked to him about his Elder Tree, and his similarities. At first he paused, as if shocked by the memory and then he just laughed like crazy, stating he is who he is and he just can't help wanting to do everything the best that it can be done. As for me, I found myself thinking about all this a lot yet focusing NOT on all the wacky stuff he's inherited, but instead on ALL the good, wonderful qualities his Dad also passed on to him and in turn I know he is passing on to our three sons
Thinking of that made me also turn over a new leaf of acceptance when it comes to my own Elder tree.
Sadly, Maybe I WILL inherit tendencies towards clutter and disorganization but I'm happy  I've already inherited beautiful traits like my Moms love for music, singing, fun, games and Craaazzzy people.

Friday, July 12, 2013


I will be 54 next month and I'm relieved to tell you...I've NEVER broken a bone!  this is the result of being a cautious, adventure-less, nervous nelly.   My kids on the other hand....Sheesh... that's another post.
Three weeks ago I was teaching my Zumba class at the library where they are replacing the A.C.
( who the heck replaces a system in summer?!) HOT doesn't have enough letters to describe how uncomfortably hot it was in that room.
The sweat covered ken tile floor was just too much for my purple ZOOM Nike's and DOWN I went!
I was more stunned that I suddenly was on my Buttocks then I was embarrassed for being down there.
I didn't even realize I had slipped, it was that quick.
I felt a shooting pain on the top of my foot, but once I stood up... it didn't hurt too much... so what do you do when you're a CRAZY  albeit nervous nelly??  YOU keep on dancin'!   Like I thought I was in Pippin or something, the show must go on! so crazzzzzy lucy gets up, motions to her sweet concerned Zumba girls that she is OKaY!  And continues the FUN,Fabulous songs for another 15 min.

My ankle felt 'fragile' but it didn't hurt to dance, walk, climb the library stairs or drive home. 
Regardless, I decided to R.I.C.E.all that day!   (Rest, ice, compression and elevate.)
The following day I worked a  10 hour day on my feet. By evening, my ankle was So swollen, that I got VErY nervous.. I called my orthopedic, but he and his group were at a convention!  the following day, I worked again, but cut my day short to ice and rest some more. One of my sweet friends was an ER nurse, she looked me over and she told me she thought it was just a sprain. I felt relieved by her opinion and  It felt well enough that I decided to teach Zumba monday and tuesday with the help of my amazing Students, who know my routines real well.   
About a week later, my ankle was less swollen and only hurting in certain positions. But I decided (thanks to a client who owns an insurance company) to be smart and see my doc. to touch base (and document my fall, especially that my lower back was hurting too ) My dr.  didn't think my ankle was broken but thought an MRI would be smart, since i am on my feet for both of my jobs. She wanted to make sure ligaments, tendons (and whatever else we have in there )were Okay. ( I will have to wait for insurance approval.) The next day,  I decided to spring (well , summer)clean my neglected bedroom.  I got up too quickly from being on my hands and knees vacuuming under furniture and accidentally  put all of my weight on the top of my foot and  I SCREAMED profanities to an empty house like a downed surfer to the roaring sea.  WOW....took me back 20 years to the labor and delivery room!

For the next week, my ankle felt worse than it did after that library zumba class.
I decided to call my podiatrist.  ankle? foot?  same thing,no?  he is right near my home and he is a BIG personality and a GREAT dr. ... unfortunately, he was away (surfing?)  but his associate was able to see me.
He did an xray, and told me that I didn't  have a sprain I instead had a fractured fibula!! My first break in nearly 54 careful, boring years???  I could, however, continue doing all I was doing and it would heal...  I felt like such a moron. I was beating myself up for not getting an xray sooner. If it were one of my dare devil, accident prone sons... they would have been in the ER the same day!  I drowned my regrets and foolishness  in two lovely glasses of pinot noir and fell asleep. 

Today My dr.called, telling me she got the approval for the MRI... when I told her it was a fracture, she said it would be smart to see an orthopedist. I started feeling so stupid AGAIN! although, that IS who I called initially, that is THE bone expert, right?? Why didn't I try him again?  It's been 3 weeks and NOW I want to see him...sooo desperately!  I suddenly think the Foot dr. is a moron too!  I don't trust anyone but this BONE man who I SHOULD have called back!

Well, I just came back from  Mr. bones  office. he couldn't make out anything in the cloudy,foggy xray that the podiatrists  RECEPTIONIST took.... so he took his own. Guess what?  I have a freaking SPrained ankle and it will talke time, but It will be FINE! It is NOT a BREAK!  my sweet ER nurse friend was RIght!  I still feel stupid and overwhelmed... even though I writing this while on my 2nd glass of pinot.