Yay! This is my 201st blog post–so significant for me. I created this personal blog as a forum for writing, and sharing my thoughts, observations and feelings, as I journey to discover my true self. It serves its’ purpose.
I am new to the blog “Sunday Scribblings.” (I am here because Susannah Conway recommended it to us in her “Blogging From The Heart” e-course.) The prompt serves as “inspiration and motivation for anyone who enjoys writing and would like a weekly challenge.” It is directed to seasoned writers and those, like me, who wish to write.
Each week, they post a one(?) word prompt, which the participants must use in a story, poem or the like. I am desperately seeking to hone my writing skills, as well as to unearth my buried creativity. With that in mind, I’ve penned my second, first here, ever haiku using the prompt “luscious.” Here goes:
his lips tantalize.
so full. so pink. come hither.
joined. hmm. luscious.
It’s been a dark and dreary morning, with the sound of a distant storm meandering its’ way in our direction. I wait with anticipation, until finally, it arrives.
With it, comes the comforting sound of raindrops tap, tap, tapping against the window pane. The running water etches a circuitous path downhill, and huge rain puddles are sure to attract the delighted child.
My fried plants are drinking greedily, knowing that, in our drought-stricken area, the life-giving water is a gift. One that cleanses and nourishes all that it touches. Like manna from heaven, it is our salvation.
One of my granddaughters
I have to tell you upfront, that this post arises from this post on the website Wonderings & Wanderings. The question posed in the blog was a line from a Natalie Rosenberg book., “Tell me what you will miss when you die.” This post answers that question..
It seems right to post this on what would have been my brother’s 46th birthday. I am in my 50’s and the inevitability of my death crosses my mind quite regularly. My kids think it morbid, but it think it reality. I mean, there comes a time when we all die. Although there is much that I would miss, there is nothing more than my children and grandchildren, especially, those firsts in their lives that appear suddenly, pass too quickly and are forever etched in my heart. Of course, the list depends on when death occurs, so I chose to there are many more pleasures that we enjoy in this life, that are worth noting. My list, although not exhaustive, follows:
- The sound of wind chimes on a breezy day.
- The sound of boiling hot water as it pours into a cup for hot tea.
- Watching the sun rise from my bed in the morning.
- The birds chirping at the feeder outside of my bedroom window.
- The way that freshly washed and starched cotton sheets feel on your skin.
- The smell of lavender.
- The smell of tuberoses.
- A long, hot bubble bath.
- Singing to the oldies.
- Dancing to the oldies.
- The sound of water running in a stream.
- Watching the deer as they walk through our yard.
- The dark, inky infinite night-time sky, filled with stars and unmarred by lights.
- The color purple.
- The taste of a sweet, juicy watermelon.
- A deep blue sky.
- The unexpected rainbow.
- The sound of rain on a tin roof.
- Nerja, Spain
- A full moon.
- A meadow filled with wild flowers.
- The laugh of a child.
- The excitement brought by a thunder-storm.
- The pealing of church bells.
- The birth of a grandchild.
- The faces of my loved ones and friends.
- The twinkle in D.’s eyes.
- Talking to my daughters about anything and everything.
- The steadfastness of my husband.
- B. calling me Mee-Mom.
- All of the “firsts” that come with grandchildren.
- My potato salad.
- A home cooked meal that I didn’t cook.
- A genuine smile.
- The way a smile lights up a face.
- A full moon.
- The smell of night-blooming jasmine.
- The laughter of children playing in the near distance.
- Driving a convertible with the wind blowing through your hair.
- Walking along a beach.
- An apple jolly rancher candy.
- A banana Now or Later.
- A Grape Kool-Aid Jammer.
- The comfort of knowing that my mother is nearby.
- Baby kittens.
- A purple, orange and pink sunset.
- I love yous.
- The touch of a loved.
- The smell of Red Flower Lavender candles.
- Child perfume.
- My iPhone.
- My computers.
- Playing airplane with your hand outside the car window.
- Making love.
- The smell of freshly baked bread.
- Family dinner.
- Mexican food.
- Chinese food.
- New Orleans.
- The sturdiness of a tree.
- A family dinner.
- A birthday celebration.
- Candle light.
- A room lit by moon light.
- The present moment.
- Moments of inner peace.
- A good book.
- The wonder of music.
- Dancing to anything.
- The joy of giving the perfect present.
- The joy and appreciation of receiving the perfect present.
- The ability to change.
- The ability to forgive.
- To love.
- To be loved.
- The act of forgiveness.
- To be forgiven.
- The sounds of ocean waves breaking on land.
- The desert.
- The perfect pen.
- My journals.
- Purple pens.
- My brother’s blue, pea coat that came to me after his death.
- My brother’s watch that came to me after his death.
- Being a Mom.
- Being a g’mom.
- The flutter of curtains as a breeze moves through the window.
- Watching my children move through life.
- Watching my grandchildren’s importance life moments.
I realize that I can go on forever, but I’ll stop now. What I know for sure is that when I press “publish,” there will be numerous things that I wish that I’d added to the list, but it was time to end.
Tell me what you’ll miss when you die. I’d love to hear your thoughts.
My “Daring Adventures” painting.
I have a 6 1/2 year old granddaughter with whom I spend a considerable amount of time. We were in the process of getting ready to go out, when I looked in the mirror and did not like what I saw. If you are like me, you’ve had the following experience. You are preparing to go somewhere and you think that you are ready to leave. Someone comes up to you with a concerned look on their face and says, “Um, you aren’t going out looking like that, are you?” Of course, it is a “tactful” way to say, “You look like hell and you aren’t serious going out into the world like that.” This time, my inner critic played the part of the ‘concerned’ person, and regrettably, I listened.
I gave in and began putting on makeup and transforming my appearence. At the time, D. was in another room playing video games. Since she thought that we were ready to leave, she came to see what was going on. She walked into the bathroom where I was attempting to look ‘world ready,’ and sat down. For a while, she watched me intensely without speaking. Then, as I picked up one product after another, she wanted me to identify them. I did and she listened.
Suddenly, she said, “G’Mom, you don’t need makeup, because you are beautiful just the way you are.” The words stopped me in my tracks. I peered into the mirror. I mean, I really looked because I needed to see the ‘me’ that she saw. After a while, I turned to her and looked into her beautiful smiling face. With tears streaming down my face, I thanked her and grabbed her for a warm hug and a kiss. Her sweet words settled in my heart and reminded me of something that I’d forgotten. I am beautiful–just as I am.