days, hours, minutes

Right now,  there are not enough hours in the day for me. I want to do it all. I don't understand when people say they are bored. I feel like I am an in a crazy frenzy with so much I want to do, the things I need to do and the whole people, places and more of life.  . . .  I don't want to hurry through any of it, but time is of the essence. Slow deep breath in, slow deep breath out . . .  now, when are the lazy days of summer coming again?

A time for . . .

In everyday life we often take the most beautiful people and things for granted.
 Every person is like a flower that has limited time to bloom and be beautiful.
 Enjoy their beauty and fragrance while they are still with you so when the blossom withers the memories of their essence will always remain with you.

Monday Mornings

Monday Mornings . . . . this was painted not just on Mondays, but on all days of the week

Crimson memories

Painting what I feel.

Being Away

    Why do we feel the need to apologize for being away from writing on our blogs?

    I don't think anyone expects us to blog everyday. I don't think we signed a contract to write daily. Although when I am in tune with a writer I look forward to seeing what is on their mind and how we connect over a subject matter, or how their words can affect my moods or way of thinking. They often times will embrace my emotions that I am experiencing too. I don't apologize for not visiting their blog for a while. Even though I sometimes feel a little guilty for not commenting or reading some of my favorite authors more frequently.

      Just like in life, it bothers me when I haven't seen or talked with someone for a while and the first thing they do is apologize about it. I have done it myself. This apologizing thing. We get busy with daily life, we have unexpected circumstances come up. We might feel ill or overwhelmed or tired and maybe even lazy. But nothing takes away from the intention of wanting to be with someone.

     I am not going to apologize for life getting busy. I am embracing the chance to read, to talk, to see and to feel the people that make a difference in my life. No more "I'm sorry that  I haven't been in touch. . . " . Why start off in a negative mode? Let's appreciate and acknowledge what's wonderful in life. From now on it will be "I'm so glad that we had this chance to reconnect again".  Positivity begets positivity.

     This is a little story of  two grandmothers.
One of them said to her children, grandchildren and friends everytime they came to visit . . .  "Oh, why don't you come to see me more often? I am lonely and want company. Where have you been? It's been so long since you were here last."
The other grandmother said to her children, grandchildren and friends when they visit . . .  "Oh my, how wonderful that you made the time to visit me. I know how busy you are and I feel so special that you had some time to spend with me! Tell me all about what is going on in your life."

Which grandmother would you make time for?

My Tante

      I just came back from visiting my Tante Rose in Toronto. It took me 6 hours to get there, what with the Canadian holiday traffic and customs ordeals of a long wait in line. She is what I have left on my mother's side of the family here in the western world. She has two sisters in Vienna, Austria the final survivors of a large family. The three aunts have 5 children between them, but I am talking about connections with the past.
     My Tante Rose is 80 now. She doesn't look it. Still mentally sharp, a bit slower, and limited with an old hip replacement. But as loving, caring and giving as ever. She has always laughed and enjoyed whatever she does in life. Her life has not been an easy one. She has had a hard life, losing her parents and some siblings, along with her home in the second world war. She has limited formal education and  became a young widow in Canada with very young children to raise. She persevered. Tough is what she knows. She did a fine job of raising her children. And she still looks at the positive, no matter what comes her way.
     She is my favorite aunt, always has been. And she knows it.  Shhhhhh, not a word to the other two. I enjoy her company very much. We have conversations late into the night. We hold hands and she takes my arm for support when we walk. We talk about past times, my parents who are gone,  we talk about today, about relationships, about family and friends still here and some gone. We talk about the the future. I try to see her a few times a year, and we talk on the phone weekly. She is one of the few people that I still can speak German to, that speaks the same dialect as I do. She lived with us for a short while when I was very little and we have a connection that is very close and loving. Oh what fun memories I have.
     As much as I like being with her, there is always that time when I must go back home. Each time the good-bye hug gets longer, the embrace more deliberate, the eyes a bit more watery. I know this will come to an end sometime and no matter how much I know it is inevitable, it will be so very hard when it does come.
As I drive away I carry along a huge goody bag from her in the trunk of my car. It's always the same, all homemade, a cake or two, as well as one or two strudels, along with some kipfel to enjoy later. Way too much for me and always plenty to share.
     As much as I love all she does, its the love that she puts into everything that I cherish. I am filled with her love that is so plentiful it overflows from me, and there is nothing to do but share Tante Rose's love with the rest of the world. I hope you have been touched by a little bit of her today.

Firsts in Life

     I like to visit bloggers that have commented on other posts, it doesn't matter if they've commented on mine or someone else's. And so I stopped by "Vencora at coffee with a hint of delusion". She posted about firsts.
     It made me think about my firsts. Isn't everyhing in your life really a first at some time? But what makes a first so memorable or significant that it stands out, that it calls attention to itself?
     The first time I held a puppy, a collie pup less that 6 weeks old. Furry, with sharp teeth that chewed on my hand leaving red marks. The smell of that funky puppy breath. Big brown eyes, cool wet nose. I buried my face and hands into him, hugging his soft fur. I never wanted to let go of his wiggly little plump body. A love of it's own magnificance.
     The first time I witnessed a person dying in front of me. I was very young nurse on midnight shift. He was a very sick, elderly man. He had no living relatives or freinds able to travel to him. We were doing all we could to keep him comfortable in his last hours, and seemingly  failing miserably, as his pain was strong and his will was exhausted. But he was not alone. I held his hand, stroked his cheek and talked to him. I hope I helped him through his transition to wherever he believed he was going. Last gasping breaths. So profound. The first of many more deaths I was to witness. Readying his body for the morgue, bathing, wrapping all with tender hands, respect and caring. I wanted to have his death be one of dignity. His last breaths still grab my heart and bring tears to my eyes to this very day, decades later.
     The first time I made love so intensely, emotionaly, and deeply that I began to cry. There is no love as beautiful and moving as the one where you feel as soulmates becoming one.
     The first time I looked at each of my babies when they were born, unable to actually believe that they came from inside of me. How all the discomfort and time produced such a miracle.  I still marvel at the birth of a new life.
    I can go on. I understand now that firsts are merely beginnings to more beautiful firsts.
    
 

From long ago

      As a teenager I used to do my mother's hair. It's been a  long time  now. People really don't do hair anything like this anymore.

      We would go down into the basement. She would sit in a painted celery green chair at a table with a plastic flannel backed tablecloth . (She painted almost everything celery green.  I used to dislike it because there was SO MUCH of it at our house. Of course, now I am drawn to it).      

     She was the hairdressee and I was the hairdresser.
A few times a year we'd do a perm.  I remember that nasty smell.

    Most often we'd do a color, or just a wash and a set. It was a time to bond. Always in the evening. And always just us two.
     I'd shampoo and curl her wet hair in the little pink plastic-snap-together curlers or the steel -colored metal clips if she wanted waves. She would sit under the giant General Electric expanding "bouffant"  cap that looked like it was hooked up to a vacuum cleaner. It blew out hot air. It had a round stwardess looking carrying case and was portable as long as you didn't go farther than the electric cord allowed . You looked like an alien gunslinger.

( To see a picture of the exact same one we had go to
 *****      www.popsucker.net/2008/05/retrophilia_general_electronic)


     After my mom's hair was dry,  out came the curlers and I'd comb her soft hair. No hair products, no spray, no high fashion . Simple and pretty.
     Every Saturday, as soon as I would come home from work, I would do her nails. She would hardly let me get out of my uniform. It had to be right now. Nothing fancy. A soaking, a filing and of course her favorite pale pink chiffon colored laquer. I had to be careful of her right hand forefinger that was mangled in her time as a prisoner of war. I never knew how to make it look pretty. and she always had to touch it up herself.

     And every once in a while, I gave my father a manicure too. I filed his nails and rubbed lots of lotion on his dry construction worker rough hands.

    We have put aside the details of grooming and bonding others, our family and friends. We go to professionals that do a marvelously wonderful job. But in that process we have lost a chance to make a memory with those closest to us. Like animals in the wild, grooming each other is a natural behavior. We'd  have idle time for conversation. To open the heart and speak the mind. Or times of quiet to contemplate a prior disagreement and then a coming around.

     Funny, I never minded doing those things.  I never loved doing them either. It was a part of what we did and who we are.

COME . . .

Come with me today . . .  NOW.
Leave what you are doing.
Take my hand, close your eyes, I want to share a special place with you. Not later, but right now. It must be now. For this moment is all we can be certain of. This moment. For tomorrow is not promised us.
I brought a lunch of cheese, bread, fruit and wine. Let's sit in the shade of the tree with tropical breezes on our faces and in our hair. We'll talk of life, of love, of hopes and dreams. Our eyes will be our windows to the soul. Our hearts open, our words speak true, our spirit exposed and safe. We will reflect in beautiful silence and listen to nature as it nurtures our being. Hear the waves splash over and over against the shore. Hear the birds above. Inhale deeply the serenity, be calm. Come with me now won't you?

All kinds of LOVE

There are all kinds of love.

The "I've loved you for a long time and we've shared a lot together" love makes your heart feel full and your lips turn up in a smile.

KINDNESS

Every gesture, every caring deed . . .  lives on infinitely.

When was the last time you did a random act of kindness?

Eleven Simple Words

Sometimes, there is a line in a movie, or a quote from a book, will touch you in a manner that stays with you and grows within your mind, your heart, your soul. These are eleven words that have touched me. 

"BE happy for this moment, 
 
for THIS moment is your LIFE"

Tick Tock - Tick Tock

     Time. We all talk about it. I know I do. How we wish we had more of it. How there isn't enough of it. Well, let's be realistic. Haven't there been times when you felt like an hour was an eternity? Mostly though, we feel that an hour is never enough.So we under appreciate all that an hour of time can be. I know I've said, "Well, I only have an hour, so I won't  . . . "
     Let's think about what we can do in an hour.
In the time of sixty minutes we have time enough to make changes in our day by doing any of the following:
Bake cookies
Take a bath
Clean out a drawer
Make an omlette
Exercise
Make love
Walk the dog
Watch a TV show
Write a blog
Have coffee with a friend
Send flowers
Write and send a letter
Telephone a loved one
Take a nap
Get a pedicure
Make a donation
Share lots of smiles
Give hugs
Do a load of laundry
Change the sheets
Enroll in school
Have a dream
Meditate
Plant seeds
Take a picture
Do a dance
Tell a joke
Hold a hand
Pray
Make some tea
Wash your car
Get a massage

Never under estimate the value of an hour, a minute or a moment in life.

IF . . .

IF . . . . .
We have "BIG" IF's in life. Here is the beginning of a list of IF's that might have changed how I lived life.
I know you can add a few of your own.

IF . . . I had more time
IF . . . I realized I didn't have more time
IF . . . I understood what you were going through
IF . . . we were honest from the beginning

A moment of attentiveness

Sometimes it's something very simple that catches our attention. A detail that often gets overlooked because we don't have time, and to get our attention things have to sometimes be grandeous and loud. We can see Beauty in the moment but only if we choose to live in that very moment. Here, I like the veins on the delicate pink flowers and the darkness of the background of the photo. It's kind of like knowing someone for a long time, and then you have that moment when everything changes. Has that happened to you?  It's almost as if you are truly seeing