Author Archives: anartistslife

About anartistslife

Through the many trials, triumphs and tribulations of my life, I share my stories to help others. I share my thoughts to perhaps bring a new point of view to my readers, and I share my opinions because I just have better ideas! ♥♥! Where would we be without humor?

Peeking in

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The moon lit up a path for my dog (Lilly) and I to walk tonight, our last walk before we retire from a challenging day, at best.

I stopped to peek in and look into my front windows.  What do I see?  What if I did not know me, what would I see?   Would I see the person I want to see?   Would I see a home that I would want to live in?  To welcome family and friends in?

Am I looking into the home of an honest person?  A kind person?  A caring person?   Or would I see an old, angered, manipulative soul?

Would I see the past scars of hardships?  Did the hardships shape or mold me in any way?  For the good?  Or the bad?   Would I see a person whose experiences brought her wisdom, does she share that with others?   Or would I see a woman whose outward and inward look feels beaten from life?    Or would I see the boldness and hardness or an embittered woman?    Would I see a happy, peaceful, gentle home filled with love, welcoming friends and family, or would I see a perfectly placed home, with name brands and picturesque shots from a magazine on Style?

Though the outside of this house is in need of scraping and love, is the inside, the core, the womb warm?  Does it hold true to the things and people I love?   Does it hold true to me?   To the people I have loved and lost?   Or am I living in a shrine to the departed?

Do I see artwork that is beautiful, and brings a smile to my face?  Or do I hear the poisoned tongue of self criticism, judgement, sadness?

Are there pets?  Are they happy?  Are they sad?   Are they fed?

Does it look like a home with a grateful soul?
Or want lists posted everywhere? Does it feel like the person who lives here has ‘enough’ or too much?

As I walked away, I smiled.     This home is far from perfect, and most of the belongings that fill it have been previously loved.   I see a warm glow that comes through the curtains, and a cat that’s probably purring while she lays sleeping on a chair cushion.  I see artwork that was painted with bright, beautiful, happy palettes, pictures of loved ones loved in their prime, smiling, happy, and just enough dog and cat hair on the floor to say, yup, those animals have a nice life, and so does the woman who lives here.   She has made a lovely home for herself, pleasing to the eye, and yet comfortable, welcoming.  Swags that were given to her by someone she loves, belongings that have little monetary value and much sentimental.    Colors that offer soothing feelings, and a studio that is occupied and utilized daily.

In short, I see my “true colors” shining through.   And that?  Makes me a happy woman tonight.    Happy and very grateful for who I am, where I’ve been, and where I’m going.

So now I’m closing the shades and shutting out the world, it’s time for my girls and I to cuddle and snuggle, and enjoy the plush comforter that will soon touching my skin, echoing my body.    I am a very fortunate woman, indeed.

 

 

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Participation

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I can’t keep up with the crap that’s going on in the world.  Not and live a meaningful, focused, purposeful life.   Two minutes into reading the news, or the newest trend that is circling Facebook, I want to run away and hide.

I don’t think as humans, and I am one of them, we are designed to deal with the harshness that fills this world right now.  Yes, there are still beautiful amazing things to focus on, but there is so much ugliness that me, myself and I have to extricate myself from.     Whether you can handle it, that’s not up for me to decide, but for me personally, I can only stand small increments of crap, otherwise I get swallowed up in it.

This is not to say that I do not have an opinion, most of my readers know the world of crap I got myself in for speaking my voice and opinion in the last election.  What an election to open my mouth!   My point?    I now choose my battles, and wisely.

There is so much going on in this world that strips me of peace, of center.    I’m not one to blame “God”, though I have been extremely ticked off at him in past.     I am petrified of human trafficking, drugs, war, just to name three.   Now peruse your favorite news channel and see how many other dreadful, crazy things are going on.

How do we participate, and for each of us, have a voice, and realize we aren’t always going to agree with the opinion of others, and THAT”S OKAY!     Perhaps listening or reading without judgement, we can learn something about another person, or situation that we may have not looked at, or realized.  But that takes an open mind to be willing to look beyond belligerence.  And I’m here to tell you, I too can be belligerent.    I have been.  But it’s not a place I choose to visit daily, or even weekly.    For me it usually shows up when my defenses have failed to acknowledge harm coming from places I didn’t expect.    This means what?   It’s simple.  That I need to take care of myself, my own mental and physical state, financial.    That doesn’t mean I become oblivious to what is going on around me, but it does mean I secure myself, FIRST, it’s called self preservation!  And when that is in place, and I am able to help another, I will.  I will.

So today I’m choosing to stay in my own little world, which is full of color, texture, music, love, and light.   I am choosing not to participate outside of this world today, because I have somethings I need to take care of, and I am.     But I will and have offered a prayer for all my family, friends, and the world in its entirety.   So much going on right now, natural disasters and more.     My prayer will be my participation and help to others for this day.

I don’t believe we are designed to handle the enormous hatred and judgement that has been tossed around MOMENT BY MOMENT, and I’m not talking about just one subject.  I’m talking about ALL.  I’ve had enough to last me a lifetime, and I’m learning to not become ignorant to what is happening, but become purposeful where I can, and right now, there is nothing I can do for all that surrounds us, but pray.

I’m not suggesting you change what you are doing, unless you, too, feel overwhelmed and consumed by the ugliness that situates beside of you.   I don’t know whats best for you, or anyone else, so I just want to nod at you, blow you a kiss, and wish you a good day, filled with whatever you want it to be.  Those who are struggling, and there are many friends right now who are in crises, I wish you the best, and I’m saying a prayer that you will be comforted, that you will be given the strength you need to get through this day.     I offer this blog to give those like minded thoughts a gentle hug and acknowledgement that, yeah, I too am overwhelmed, so today I’m doing what I can for myself, first.    Wishing you a joy filled day with healthy boundaries and decisions made with a healthy, happy heart.    To you!!!

What’s in your heart?

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The other day I ran into (almost crashed with our carts!) an old high school friend at Walmart.  I had seen just before I went to Walmart, on her fb feed that she had just lost one of her beloved furry kids.  Anyway,

I told her how sorry I was, and she was very gracious, but something she then said kind of shocked me.    “This is why I look the way I do today!”.    Wow!   Wow I thought.  To feel the need to say that to me, at 55 years of age?  We will both soon be 56.     It just struck me odd.  And perhaps its because for years now, I’ve not focused on the way I looked, nor the manner in which I dressed.  I admit, some of that had to do with depression, but when I see people I love, I don’t look them over from top to bottom.  I look into their eyes, and I’m paying attention to their words.

It saddened me, and also baffled me at the same time that she would be concerned of such.  A member of her family just died, who gives a shit how she looks?    Or have i just become too uncaring about this stuff?

She’s a beautiful woman, with the biggest blue eyes, and a gorgeous smile.  And she was in pain, I could see it written all over her face and in her eyes.  My heart hurt for her and her family.  I know how hard it is when our furry families leave us.  It’s painful as hell.    No one wants to say goodbye to such unconditional and gentle love and companionship.

So I’ve been sitting with that memory of our meeting.    And I’m not insinuating that she did anything wrong, but why did it stand out to me?   Why did that response come to mind for her, when she was sharing of her pain?

I suppose it could’ve been that I looked like crap.   Laughing.   And I didn’t have death of a pet (Thank God) to blame!    And I came to the conclusion that it wasn’t about her, it was about me.    I guess if someone is going to judge me by the way I look, for whatever reason, I guess I deep down know, they aren’t my friend!    I never once looked at her to think anything of her.  I wasn’t judging her, I was judging myself!  And with her comment, I felt like she was looking at what I looked like, not who I was, and the words I was saying to her.

How hard we are on ourselves.    This saddens me and continues to be the biggest issue I contend with on a daily basis.  I’m learning to be kinder, softer with myself, but it’s the first place that retorts back to old behavior, and I have to be vigilant with my self talk, turning it to positive.    There are some days, that’s all I accomplish.  Recycling old negative thoughts into positive ones.  With that said, the days are fewer and far between what they used to be.

What isn’t important to me is what someone drives, the diamonds or sapphires they wear, but I do look at their eyes, and I try to see what is in their heart with the limited time I’m with another.    Because THAT is how I want others to look at me!!!   But will they?   Doesn’t matter, it’s out of my control what another person thinks of me, and I’m grateful I don’t care today.    But here is where the whole process ended up for me.

What if?  What if we all felt better about ourselves, and loved and cared for ourselves.  What if we didn’t feel the need to “look” or “play” the part?     What if we stood one with our grief and said “I’m having a crappy day, I need to be gentle on myself?”

Are you one that can do that?      I dare ya!

So if the person reading this blog and whom I met in the Dog Aisle at Walmart, my bestest from way back in our teens, You are beautiful!   Your eyes are as blue as they were in high school, and your smile as bright.    Be kind to yourself!    Give yourself permission to grieve, and don’t judge yourself (or me) on the way I look!    Love ya girl.

Experience…

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“I remember standing on the corner at midnight, trying to get my courage up.  There was this long lovely dancer in this club downtown, I loved to watch her do her stuff.  Through the long lonely nights she filled my sleep, her body softly swaying to that smokey beat, down on Main Street…”

In 1980 I was at a Bob Seger concert at Boston Garden.  When it was announced that they were recording this concert for a new LP (yes, I’m that old), I was standing on the chair, screaming, jumping up and down!    It was a great concert.

In 1980 I was almost 20 years old.   At the concert with a guy that died a young death in a snowmobile accident.   He was 27 years old, with a wife and two kids.  We were long gone as a couple, but we both loved music.   We went to many concerts in the short time we were together.   He had big blue eyes, curly blonde hair, and was a big guy, someone who I felt protected with when we went to a “Black Sabbath and Blue Oyster Colt” concert in Boston.      My god, there were more people tripping than straight.  But I digress.

I often relate music to times in my life.  More so than not.   The memories can be very vivid, and can raise me up or drop me to my knees.  It wasn’t until later in life that I learned what real hardship and heartache was.  And don’t get me wrong, as a young person, love is a hard thing, especially lost love, but now, I think back and smile, grateful for the memories.    Some things weren’t meant to be.   And as true with most things, as I lived out portions of my life, I would understand why things didn’t work out the way I wanted them to, or had hoped they would.   I see young people and I think “My God, was I really ever that young?  That innocent?”   Hell YES!

It’s been many years since I stood on that chair screaming and singing my lungs out.   And when people say “he or she has changed”, I smile and listen, but my thoughts are “Have they?”  Have I?     Yes, life has a way of smartening you up, experiences have a way of defining moments that change the course of your life.   But are we the same?

Best as my experience tells me, when you knew someone in your youth, if they were good, kind people, then chances are they still are.   And if they were an asshole?  They may still be!      Life dishes out suntans AND wet towels!   Sometimes the wet towels are so heavy it takes everything you’ve got to keep moving.   But experience has taught me it helps to toss the wet towels, grab from it all that you have learned, both good and bad, then drop it in its path, and continue on.

Maturity is a beautiful thing.   In life we learn all kinds of things about people, ourselves.   I learned at the age above in my life this relationship was not meant to be.  While there was pain, it passed.   And I’m very grateful that I wasn’t his widow at 27.

The kind of people that draw my attention are the people who have walked through hell and kept walking.    Because NO ONE’s life is perfect, and some of us have learned the value in being honest about it.   That doesn’t mean you stay sitting in the sand, with the wet towel around your neck.  It means you learn to be kinder to yourself, to accept change, and you learn the type of people who are deserving of your time, your heart.

Real people, with real issues.    I like people who have survived major shit.  Why?  Because they know who they are, they know what they don’t want, and what they do, and they value the smaller things in life, like the values of a person, not their mistakes.  And when we can finally accept that about ourselves, those of us who are blessed to live long enough to figure that out, there is comfort and peace in knowing, everything is as it should be, even if we don’t like it.

Very grateful for my life, and where I am today.  Is it perfect?  Not even close, but it’s mine, and I plan to make the most of it!

Today

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“Today while the blossoms still cling to the vine, I’ll taste your strawberries, I’ll drink your sweet wine.  A million tomorrow shall all pass away, ere I’ll forget all the joy that is mine, today”.  John Denver, “Today”.

Feeling fairly defeated at the moment.   Have been making great progress in my health, and I know how important that is.   But I was kicked in the teeth about an hour ago, after checking on one aspect of this thing called my life here on earth.

12 years of battles have deemed me irresponsible.  I don’t want to share what I’m talking about, and I know I’m not alone in this but what I will say is this, those times when it feels like you just can’t win?   Times like I’m experiencing right now, this very second, I need to do something for myself, to ground myself.  I need to say prayers of thanks for the progress I AM making, and the rest will fall into place I suppose, if they are ever supposed to.  I can only do my very best.

On a much lighter note, I went and had an ice cream cone with my friend today.  We were laughing and our usual goofy selves (always belly rolls), anyway, we get out of the car and we parked next to a vehicle, there was a man standing there waiting for his two sons to get out of his van.   I was dressed in raggedy, ripped at the knees, capris, and an oversized Boston Red Sox t-shirt, I’ve been working today.  As true when we spontaneously head out for a ride, I had some paint on my hands, but nothing major.   My girlfriend looked pretty in some pistachio colored blouse.  At any rate, the guy looks at us and rolls his eyes.

So as we’re walking to the counter, we stand behind these two women, one who whistles very loudly using her fingers, pierces flesh, I swear.  Totally unconcerned about thos around her.  I said to Chris “I guess we know who that whistle is for?  Hey, at the count of three, lets turn around and reciprocate an eye roll when he walks up”  “Okay she says”.    1, 2, 3 …

We turned around and offered to him the same eye roll he gave us.   When I turned back towards the counter to order, I was laughing.   I don’t really care what this guy thinks of me, or how I or my friend looked.   But I wanted him to know that I saw him do that to us.    Chris said he was grinning smartly, I don’t know, I never looked at him again, but I referred to him as “whistle man” when we got into the car.  “Show me what face you made” I said.   So she makes this very funny strange looking face because she’s not the talented eye roller that I am.   I about laughed myself into wet pants.  “I guess we’re going to have to change our strategy for next time someone does this to us!”     It was nice to laugh.

But that really isn’t what is bothering me.   I think it’s funny that we did this.  And yes, I’m aware that a bigger person would’ve walked by and ignored.   But as I said to my friend “He knows nothing of me, what I’ve been thru, what I’ve survived, the kind of person that I am.   Screw him!”    But the blatant disrespect and supremacist attitude is typical of what this world is like now.   Disheartening, yes.    Did I take it personally?  Nope.

The ice cream was delicious.   It was a three scoop Pistachio Nut that I slowly and skilfully ate in between the belly rolls that followed in our trip to the grocery store.

And now that I’ve sort of purged some emotions, I’m feeling slightly better than I was before I sat down.  The keyboard is a coping tool for me.   Go get yourself your favorite ice cream!  Enjoy it with a friend.  It surely makes meeting asses funnier when you can share it with someone!

So, I’m off to try to nurture and get beyond the feelings of being defeated.  And I’ll say a prayer of “thanks” for meeting whistle man.   It’s always good to have examples of the people you don’t want to become or be like!

 

Cds, cassettes, lps, dare i say 8track?

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I was going to work on writing up and illustrating a painting lesson tonight, when I got side tracked on YouTube.  Now I have been on YouTube to find out how to fix my washing machine, break open a safe (hey, it was cool!) but I really haven’t been on it for music in almost a decade.  Wow!   Where does time go?

I was happy to find Bob Seger, because you can’t find his on Spotify.   And it brought back fond memories of my teens, and the music that spoke to me and played loudly while I cruised throughout the Town.

Yet further down the road, my 20’s, my 30’s, when my sister would come visit, she would snag a cd, leaving the cover empty, and for me to find later!     That girl had probably 12-15 of my cd’s including and not limited to:  Harry Chapin, Bob Seger, Tina Turner.     My favorite cd’s.

The other day I was going through my collection (long standing collector of music which started at the age of 15 when I bought my first pioneer receiver).  It cost about $600 then.  I’ve long since replaced them with Bose.     But what I found were the empty cd cases of the ones my sister had stolen.   And I say that lightly.    She could afford her own, she just liked to do this!   I shed a tear or two, because she died over a decade ago, and I held onto those cases because I never wanted to forget her, or any of her little tricks.    Believe me, I’ve learned that I need nothing in material form to remind me of what a beautiful, wonderful person she was.  I miss her every day.

I neatly placed the empty cd cases back on the shelves, because I just love to remember the funny things she did.   Like putting confetti in cards, and crazy little antics that made me laugh.

Life is short, Where did all this time go?   And where the hell did these wrinkles come from?   I still feel like I’m in my teens when I listen to music of the 70’s.    Grateful, very grateful for this form of art and the many artists who have touched me through their words, tunes.

I didn’t get my lesson plan done, but I sure did enjoy the cruise down memory lane!  Do yourself a favor.   Skip the dishes or chores tonight, visit YouTube and go listen to the songs of your youth.  I bet you’ll be glad you did!

 

 

Negative space

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I’m getting some much needed alone time.     With music (therapy) in the background, windows open, I am painting today off an easel, a piece I had designed many years ago.  I’m not painting it the same way, nor with the same paint.   Today’s version is more realistic, and the palette much brighter than that of before.    I attribute that to high pigment paint AND my own growth as a woman, as an artist.

So I’m not using the old reference photos for anything but placement.  Basically trying to keep my life simple, because I recall the agony I had when first sitting down to design this piece.  It initially had a couple of watering cans in it, and it was too busy.   Back when I analyzed the shit out of everything, I would sometimes “fill” my paintings to the brim, instead of breathing, detaching, and appreciating or recognizing the need for negative space.  MUCH like the alone time I am having today.  I don’t mean to infer that I’m negative, not in the least today, but my alone time is crucial and vital to my peace of mind, creativity, and general health.  Therefore, I’m comparing negative space in a painting to alone time in my life because it’s needed and I’m usually pleased with the end result.

Such is true of food, as well.  I’ve been off sugar since April.   The first week was HELL.  I had headaches, quick trips to the bathroom, dizziness, and generally feeling like all I wanted to do was pick up a pop and drink it.    Anything to quiet the toxins that were being excreted from my body.    A week later I started feeling better, and stronger, and now some 14 weeks later I’m feeling SO much better, dropped a few pounds, and my goal is to remain happy and kind to myself.   The inner critic that resides in the darker parts of my mind is silenced at this moment.   When I catch it coming to forefront of my mind, I do what I was taught to do while learning to meditate.    Acknowledge it, and then go back to focus.   It helps.  And I’ve learned that it really is the smaller things that help me, not the large and drastic changes the critic sometimes pushes me to believe I need.

Music is a huge source of happiness for me.   Today, as my playlists echo throughout my studio, I acknowledge where the song takes me, the people that were in my life at that time, situations, circumstances.   And then when the song is done, I do it all over again with the next song.    I have several playlists that I’ve made, one all about my life, songs that come from the most significant times of my life.  And I’m here to tell you, “significant” wasn’t necessarily  big events like marriage, but reaching understanding, un-complicating my life from worry, finding peace, acceptance of things that LARGELY contributed to the bright side of, and improved quality of my life.

I’ve no answers for others, this in itself is a valuable piece of information.  I can’t live my life or make decisions for someone else, just myself.   And some days I have all I can do to do this for myself.    So the point I’m trying to make is, ridding myself of the clutter, both mentally and physically, in all aspects of my life have gifted me with this day of feeling happy.   I’m much looser with my painting, I’m focusing on the moment, and in the moment, and enjoying all this “negative space”.

Hope yours is going well, too!

 

On love

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It seems much of my life I have spent questioning my decisions.   I’m sometimes afraid to make decisions for fear that I’ll regret them, rarely has anything to do with the consequences.   I guess, in short, I lack self confidence, in some things, and then in others, I stand strong, tall, stoic to criticism with the ability to see clearly and fully that my decisions are just, sound, right.     Why the variance?

I had some crap dreams last night.   I will include that Trump was in one of them.  Rolling my eyes.    I don’t normally dream about our 45th President!   So why now?

When I access the parts of my life that include pain, disappointment (and we all have it), I weaken and have a tendency to “feel it” emotionally.

I’m reminded of a poem I came across at the young, ripe age of 15 that finds its way back in my life on occasion, and when I need it most.   The woman who wrote it was young at the time, and I remember reading something she had written on it saying she has never understood the depth of interest and popularity of it.     I found that interesting, because for me, this poem helped me stand up after assaults to my being or character.   I’ve shared this poem with many people during challenging parts of their life.   So why would it mean so little to her and so much to those of us who used to it carry us through difficulties?

She wrote about specific things that I have experienced, and I suppose, love and youth, or youth and love.   Earlier times in my life when love was defined differently than it is today (Thank God!).    “Kisses aren’t contracts”, we all “get this” when we experience the end of relationship, of death or loved one and we find ourselves alone.    The most important part for me was and still is ” So we begin to bring ourselves flowers”.    Hence, what I still continue to learn, to love and take care of myself versus others.

Of course I still lend a hand and my heart to others, but I’ve learned to first make sure I’ve filled my own needs.    I’ve also learned that it’s okay to have needs, it’s not selfish to take care of yourself, or put yourself first.    So perhaps, the answer to the author of the poem not understanding how or why her early poem was so popular is because, she learned with only one lesson to give to herself, or to love without losing herself.  And then there are many people like myself, who only after heartache and discord, learn, and even after that, continue the cycle until we finally “get it”.    Our hearts want one they want, but what if our idea of love is whacked?    I’m reminded that the “definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over hoping for different results”.

For whatever the reasons, I still love this poem, and while I no longer cling to it like I did as an innocent 15 year old girl, as a 55 year old woman, I reminisce and bathe in the memories of “love”, and how over the years I’ve learned to accept self love!

Here is the poem by Veronica Shoffstall

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Acknowledging feelings

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A few minutes ago I read that Glen Campbell died.    Now, I was a bit young for his music, (or was so into John Denver that no one else compared!) but I remember my parents loving his music, and when I hear his music, it lifts me up, makes me perky, happy.     So when I reacted with tears to his death, I was a bit dumbfounded.  First off, I’ve been told no one can cry on Prozac.   PLEASE!    I beg to differ!  I remember being at a drive in movie with my parents seeing a movie Glen Campbell starred in.  I had a bit of a crush on him from the movie.   But why am I so emotional about his passing?  It isn’t as if I knew him.  But I have been reading on his battle with Alzheimer’s for a long time, and while I’m grateful for him that his battle is behind him, I’m trying to decipher my own emotions.

Calling Dr. Freud!!!!!!!  

My dad is older than Glen, and my mother just a year and a half behind him.  I’m sure these facts are related to my reaction.   The stories I would read on his battle with Alzheimer’s reminded me of a girlfriend who was a student of mine when her mom was whisped away for years to this disease, and later, her dad.    What was impressed upon me was how loyal and loving this woman was.  She was a role model for me which I’m afraid I fall short on, when it comes to caring for parents.  I do what I can, I really do, and I think I’m a good daughter, but my dad lives hours away, my car has 271k miles on it, and currently uninspected.   When I see my dad, I see his aging, and the pain on his face from knee problems.    It’s very hard for me to see this.  But I know I’m not original to this difficulty, nor am I alone.

And I suppose some of this has to do with accepting death, and perhaps my own.   Don’t get me wrong, while I have freedom right now from the dark and potentially dangerous thoughts of a depressed mind, I see changes in myself, too.   It’s not just my parents who are getting older!

So now I’m listening to a playlist I made of Glen Campbell’s music, I’m working on a pet portrait that looks a hell of a lot better tonight than it did last night, but I’m keenly aware that life can and does change on a dime.     Something today that may seem insufferable, is cast aside with the wind when serious illness or injury occur.     The old adage “when you have your health, you have it all!” is so true!

I’m going to honor these feelings of sadness, and acknowledge the fear of losing my parents, or another sibling, or friend, and try to steer clear of dwelling.   Life is so short, precious, and it’s easy to lose track of what really is important in our lives.  Loss, death is inevitable.  Also I’m very sad (yet happy for my neighbor) that the sale of her house closed today, and she’s on her way down South.  I’m really going to miss her….

RIP Glen Campbell, your music reminds me of my parents when they were much younger, and parents to five children and having serious illness strike my oldest sister at the young age of 6.     Prayers for his family, as they say goodbye, once again, to their husband, father, friend.

Blessings

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This afternoon I had a video call with a childhood friend.  A friend whose life changed drastically after a tragic accident.    As I watched him talk, process, thinking diligently about answers or response, my heart sang with joy that this very kindhearted, intelligent friend of my bro’s is still the same person he was probably 40 years ago now.

I can’t tell you how nice it felt to talk to him, he had me laughing hysterically over things that I “forgot” he knew.  You know, when time divides you from your childhood and life happens, sometimes the hardest part of life, and you hear old stories, or see reactions that you haven’t seen in years, it’s sweet.   It’s nice to know that SOME things, some people do not change.

After we spoke I was smiling, thinking about the kid, the teenager he used to be, and my mom and I started sharing stories, and we laughed to our hearts delight.    I always encouraged my brother to hang onto this guy as a friend.    He was such a decent being way back when.

Most of us are aware of the crudeness, the blatant evil that exists now, how beautiful it is to me that while life dished him out some major hard balls, that he’s still the kind, caring, compassionate and wonderful person he was before life put it’s ugly talon’s into our flesh.

In a world where you only know what someone wants you to know, how refreshing, how sweet it feels to revisit youth, and share a laugh or two regarding things long since forgotten, or buried.

I haven’t had it nearly as hard, nor do I care to compare heartbreak with anyone, but I know for myself, I have tried to always remain kind, to remain uninjured, still “soft”, so as not to harden like leather that many people have had happen.    It happens.  Life is not a picnic for all, and sometimes it’s just damn hard to walk through a day with all the knowledge or what is happening in this world.

But today, tonight, I am smiling that this kind soul, who knew me long before the many depressions or hardships that has occurred in my life, and that he, too, is still “soft”.  What a delightful conversation, and as I watched his eyes move as he was talking, I was reminded, pleasantly of how philosophical he has always been.  Even as a youngster, he really listened, and he answered questions after processing, and in spite of all the hardships we both have encountered, we were still able to conjure up things from our long ago past, and laugh hardy.

What a gift the past week has been for me.   Spending time with good, kind, “real” people, kindred spirits.   I’ve been truly blessed with these experiences.