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.
    
 

I can't believe it . . . it's gone

     Well, I have myself to blame. Another lesson learned. Is there no end to how many lessons we keep learning? And how many lessons were there that I paid absolutely no mind too?
     When my computer was infected, I apparently lost a huge bundle of information that can't be retrieved. Special things . . . . I am a incurable romantic and collector of words. Not just any words, after all we can find millions of words in the dictionary, in magazines, books, on line. But words that have been lived, have been loved, have been explored, disected and embraced. Words that have been painful and even thoughts of words that were never said, never written and lost forever inside a heart, a mind or a soul.
     I should have downloaded the words that moved me. But we don't have all history erased as we travel through life. Sometimes we find a remnant tucked away in a corner, a look, hug, a conversation. Life experience makes you who you are everyday and of course we can't carry it all around. It's way too big and cumbersome. And the computer is no different.
     I

Cyber sick

Cough.  Cough. I'm almost recovered.
     It looked pretty grim for a while. It started out with everything slowing down. Then lapses in memory and misdirected messages. Flare ups right and left. Next thing it was a full blown epidemic. Yes, I had a computer virus. Not one computer, but both of them. With different infections. Hospitalization for well over a week. Intensive care for one.
     Talk about being out of sync with the world. I hadn't realized my dependancy on the keys to cyber. The first two days were the hardest. I have to admit, as time went on, there were days that I enjoyed the freedom.
     It was similiar to taking a vacation from the kids when they are small. You are happy to get away, then spend most of the time  thinking about them or talking about them. Just when you are getting used to it, it's back to old routines.
     But as in all things, there are lessons to be learned. It has taught me to sit at the screen and be mindful of time spent there. Sit down, get online, read, write and get away.
     I had time to read more books, work on painting, cook a slow, time consuming and so flavorful all day meal. I spent time catching up with friends in person. Gave hugs, laughed, cried.  Took a tango lesson. Sat by the lake. Watched the swans. Took photographs. Exercised. Entertained. Cleaned out a closet and straightened out the desk. Life is about balance and sometimes it takes a breaking down of something to show us a simpler way from the past.
      As I type this, I see that it's time to go. We have so much time here on earth, and I have so much more I want to do before my time is up.

Chocolate seduction

      Chocolate. I LOVE it. There is no other food that has a hold on me like this smooth creamy melt in your mouth sensualy delightful taste of milk chocolate.

      Oh, but not any chocolate will do. I really dislike the inexpensive brands that have a waxy sugary taste. After you eat a few bites you have an almost nauseous feeling of sugar overload. Yuck.

     I am talking about really good chocloate, the special stuff. Chocolate that can transcend you with a single bite as it slowly disolves over your tastebuds. I'm not really a fan of dark chocolate, although dip a lusious ripe red strawberry in dark chocolate and I may be in heaven for a minute.

      My ultimate favorite is Lindt brand. And even in Lindt there are levels of indulgic delights for me.
The best of all Lindt happens to come in a rather large size, a 3.5 oz  bar, okay so it is a huge chocolate bar.

THE BEST is Lindt Excellance Extra Creamy Milk.

 I usually buy every bar they have which might be a dozen at a time. Most of my friends have never had it, some have never heard of it, even the self proclaimed chocolate lovers. Unbelieveable!

      I will give a bar to those that I believe have a true appreciation for indulgence of this mood altering substance. And each time, each and every time, I have added a new loyal fan.

I am grateful for . . . .

I am grateful for all the people in my life that make me LAUGH

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.

Unrest

Today I feel an anxiousness in my heart and soul that will not lie still.
 Like a beast, it is on the hunt, for what does it hunt today?
I am unsure, but it's hot breath is burning against the back of my neck.
 I have days sometimes that I feel overwhelmed and have a sense of being in slow motion as the rest of the world rotates around the sun. I cannot catch up and I struggle with the smallest of tasks.
 It is days like this that I need to go into myself and nurture the part of me that longs for the simplest comfort. A soft blanket, a cool drink of water, and quiet, yes quiet to embrace all the things good in my life.

Make the difference

Make someone smile today.

Take one minute to write, call, text or email a person that you have been out of touch with for a while.

All you have to do is say hello and that you are thinking of them and it brought back a pleasant memory.


It will make their day and yours too.

"PAIRS"

It feels good to be part of a "PAIR".


A painting that I am working on. Not enough hours in the day.