This blogger has been absent, because:
a. she fell down a hill.
b. she fell off the grid.
c. she fell into a movie.
d. she fell in love.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but the heart growing fonder makes the blogger go absent. I am so much in love that I haven't had to blog. Blogging gave me a chance to speak my mind and my heart to someone who would listen, but now I have a real live man who listens to me, who loves me, who laughs with me. I never in a million years believed that such a wonderful man existed. He makes me be better. And that's a difficult task, because I was darn good to begin.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Yearning...Bolt or Sun?
Yearning? What makes you yearn for someone? Yearning implies tenderness. But is it physical? Does it hit you like lightning? Or is it the emotional sun rising like a beacon?
That pang, that ache, that want...when the person walks away. That desire to lean toward him as he gets farther away and pull him back toward you. To safety, to make you safe. This pull...this electricity. How do you know if the current runs both ways? Does it strike just one and not the other? What if this strike sets you back or spins you around? Are these feelings real? Are you feeling the lightning just to feel the lightning? Real feelings? Do they come about like the sun rising? Slow, colorful, warm, bright, shiny, breathtaking...
Is yearning a response to a general loneliness? Is it just this specific person? Or could it be any person? I don't remember ever feeling this particular kind of yearning before...ever before. This need to be close, just near him.
When I hear him, I can breathe easier.
When I am near him, I cannot breathe.
That doesn't make sense, but it feels good, right, true.
Is yearning an addiction? I can't seem to get enough. Every bit, I enjoy though. Can you truly be happy with what is offered and not want more? Want what you want?
If I am lucky to get more or even luckier to get enough, will enough be enough? Or will I want something else? Do we always need to yearn? Or is there a satisfaction in having what you have? In loving what you love? In being loved back? Is the grass always greener? Or do I have patience enough to nurture my little corner of the world?
Is this a bolt of lightning that only I can see and feel? Or is it the sun...out there where everyone can see the shine and feel the warmth?
If it ever becomes real, will I bolt like lightning? Or will I be rooted in the soil of love and trust and warmth of the sun?
(I might need a bucket of friends to step in...to keep me still.)
That pang, that ache, that want...when the person walks away. That desire to lean toward him as he gets farther away and pull him back toward you. To safety, to make you safe. This pull...this electricity. How do you know if the current runs both ways? Does it strike just one and not the other? What if this strike sets you back or spins you around? Are these feelings real? Are you feeling the lightning just to feel the lightning? Real feelings? Do they come about like the sun rising? Slow, colorful, warm, bright, shiny, breathtaking...
Is yearning a response to a general loneliness? Is it just this specific person? Or could it be any person? I don't remember ever feeling this particular kind of yearning before...ever before. This need to be close, just near him.
When I hear him, I can breathe easier.
When I am near him, I cannot breathe.
That doesn't make sense, but it feels good, right, true.
Is yearning an addiction? I can't seem to get enough. Every bit, I enjoy though. Can you truly be happy with what is offered and not want more? Want what you want?
If I am lucky to get more or even luckier to get enough, will enough be enough? Or will I want something else? Do we always need to yearn? Or is there a satisfaction in having what you have? In loving what you love? In being loved back? Is the grass always greener? Or do I have patience enough to nurture my little corner of the world?
Is this a bolt of lightning that only I can see and feel? Or is it the sun...out there where everyone can see the shine and feel the warmth?
If it ever becomes real, will I bolt like lightning? Or will I be rooted in the soil of love and trust and warmth of the sun?
(I might need a bucket of friends to step in...to keep me still.)
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Get Motivated...to deal with past heartache
On the way to a Get Motivated seminar, the most innocent thing can cause such despair and pain and loss. But there is a place and time to feel those things and deal with those feelings. So, I made a deal then...with myself. Hold it in. Contain it. Push it down. Deal later. Dealing now...
I spent an afternoon at the corner of Jolly and Hagadorn Roads with that red barn some 12 years ago. Then, it was an antique dealer. It might still be, but I couldn't look that way for long this week. Just a glance brought back so much. It filled me up until my eyes were wet and I spoke softly.
Just about a year before Sophie arrived, I miscarried. It was "just" a blighted ovum, but she was also my child, and I had hopes and dreams for her. She has a name; I gave her Regan. Regan means regal or royal, and she seemed to be in a hurry to get to the Kingdom of God. So, it worked.
After the doctor appointment where she was removed from my aching heart, my husband (at that time) took me to that antique store on the corner there to take my mind off things. I wandered around, looking around, not seeing anything, but trying to mend the hole in my heart.
Although the sadness of that day doesn't overwhelm me now when I think about it, because without that baby turning into my angel then, I would not have my Sophie now! I know that she is the guardian angel for my two earth angels. But...being there, at that place where I felt so much sadness, even just driving by it, caught me off guard and filled me with the despair of that Autumn day almost 12 years ago.
I didn't want to go by again...thanks to the driver for understanding, for accommodating me without question. We didn't go by again. I didn't want to feel that way. No one should.
I spent an afternoon at the corner of Jolly and Hagadorn Roads with that red barn some 12 years ago. Then, it was an antique dealer. It might still be, but I couldn't look that way for long this week. Just a glance brought back so much. It filled me up until my eyes were wet and I spoke softly.
Just about a year before Sophie arrived, I miscarried. It was "just" a blighted ovum, but she was also my child, and I had hopes and dreams for her. She has a name; I gave her Regan. Regan means regal or royal, and she seemed to be in a hurry to get to the Kingdom of God. So, it worked.
After the doctor appointment where she was removed from my aching heart, my husband (at that time) took me to that antique store on the corner there to take my mind off things. I wandered around, looking around, not seeing anything, but trying to mend the hole in my heart.
Although the sadness of that day doesn't overwhelm me now when I think about it, because without that baby turning into my angel then, I would not have my Sophie now! I know that she is the guardian angel for my two earth angels. But...being there, at that place where I felt so much sadness, even just driving by it, caught me off guard and filled me with the despair of that Autumn day almost 12 years ago.
I didn't want to go by again...thanks to the driver for understanding, for accommodating me without question. We didn't go by again. I didn't want to feel that way. No one should.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
cry-i-i-i-ng over you...
Roy Orbison sang it best. He sang about unrequited love or love gone bad. I feel it tonight, but differently. I cry for the love of family...missing by distance or in pain.
Hannah is off today for a week up north with a friend and her friend's family. I cried after I dropped her off at 1:30 p.m. I cried again when she first sent me a text at 6:37 p.m. And I cried just now at 9:42 p.m. when she sent another text that they had arrived at their destination. That does it...I'm going back to college when she goes.
My Mother is in the hospital tonight. I held it together on Thursday during the long day of prepping for surgery and recovery, but when I got in my jeep to leave the hospital after she was safely admitted into her room, I cried, gasping for the cool night air to bring me the will to keep going. Later that night after I got home, I cried as the adrenaline was gone, and the relief just washed over me. It's very hard to see the person who has always taken care of you, someone with beauty and grace and strength in more ways than she would ever admit, in such a helpless position.
I feel so splintered.
Hannah is off today for a week up north with a friend and her friend's family. I cried after I dropped her off at 1:30 p.m. I cried again when she first sent me a text at 6:37 p.m. And I cried just now at 9:42 p.m. when she sent another text that they had arrived at their destination. That does it...I'm going back to college when she goes.
My Mother is in the hospital tonight. I held it together on Thursday during the long day of prepping for surgery and recovery, but when I got in my jeep to leave the hospital after she was safely admitted into her room, I cried, gasping for the cool night air to bring me the will to keep going. Later that night after I got home, I cried as the adrenaline was gone, and the relief just washed over me. It's very hard to see the person who has always taken care of you, someone with beauty and grace and strength in more ways than she would ever admit, in such a helpless position.
I feel so splintered.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Memorial Day (Weekend)
At work yesterday, a few people asked me what my big plans for the weekend are.
Well, I do realize that for most people Memorial Day is day off work, and I am not complaining about that! Most folks plan to go up north or to the lake or to have big barbecue in their own backyard. As well they should! We all work hard enough during the week and deserve a mini-holiday.
However, some seemed surprised when I said my only real plan is what I plan every year at this time...to go to the cemetery. This morning, I'll take my daughters and pick up my Mother. She's bought a few plants, and we'll place them on the graves of people we remember. This is in preparation for the actual day. Today, we'll visit each family member, and it'll be light-hearted. We'll be doing something, and Hannah will be asking questions, trying to remember where some of the older relatives are.
On Monday, I'll go by the cemetery again. But then, I will go to my Dad's grave, and place my hand on my heart and I will remember and pray.
We remember how you loved us to Your death,
And still we celebrate for You are with us here.
And we believe that we will see You when you come in Your glory, Lord.
We remember, we celebrate, we believe!
Well, I do realize that for most people Memorial Day is day off work, and I am not complaining about that! Most folks plan to go up north or to the lake or to have big barbecue in their own backyard. As well they should! We all work hard enough during the week and deserve a mini-holiday.
However, some seemed surprised when I said my only real plan is what I plan every year at this time...to go to the cemetery. This morning, I'll take my daughters and pick up my Mother. She's bought a few plants, and we'll place them on the graves of people we remember. This is in preparation for the actual day. Today, we'll visit each family member, and it'll be light-hearted. We'll be doing something, and Hannah will be asking questions, trying to remember where some of the older relatives are.
On Monday, I'll go by the cemetery again. But then, I will go to my Dad's grave, and place my hand on my heart and I will remember and pray.
We remember how you loved us to Your death,
And still we celebrate for You are with us here.
And we believe that we will see You when you come in Your glory, Lord.
We remember, we celebrate, we believe!
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Simple Words = Prayer
My friend Lynne sent me these words in an email message. I found them moving enough to post here:
~~~
To get something you never had, you have to do something you never did.
When God takes something from your grasp, He's not punishing you, but merely opening your hands to receive something better.
The will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.
~~~
Sometimes, simple words can create a prayer.
~~~
To get something you never had, you have to do something you never did.
When God takes something from your grasp, He's not punishing you, but merely opening your hands to receive something better.
The will of God will never take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.
~~~
Sometimes, simple words can create a prayer.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Lovin', Touchin', Squeezin'
People think that I don't like to hug. I love to hug.
If I were to cry, why would I want a hug? A hug would make me feel weak and make me cry harder...if I wasn't ready for it.
If I were in the privacy of my own home with someone I trusted or a hunky dude, then a hug would be good. My ex-dysfunction used to give me shoulder-time when I was upset. I liked shoulder-time. I loved it. I miss it. I'd like shoulder-time with a new man. Tenderness.
When my Dad walked me down the aisle, he patted my hand the whole way. I'm not sure if he was nervous or thought I was. Affection.
When my Dad died, I still remember the hugs from family and friends. I can still feel them, physically feel their arms around me. Comfort.
I get/give friendly hugs from/to friends I've known for 25 years. Those are nice. I trust those hugs. Trust.
The hugs when my Sister and her family are leaving after a visit are a way to hold onto them until the next visit. Kalli squeezes. Tyler pats my back. When I try to think of the description of my sister's hug, it hurts too much for words. Commitment.
I hug my daughters. True Love.
Today at work, some guy was talking to me and another woman. He said something about giving out free foot rubs, but how I wouldn't want one, because I don't like to be touched. Dude! What the French, Toast?
If anything, I tend to crave sensory input, like Sophie does. I love to get massages, manicures, pedicures. I'm not ticklish. I love to get my feet rubbed. I have a bumpy footstool at work so that I can take my shoes off and rub my own socked feet. It's a great stress-reliever.
However, to the point, and of course, I make light of it, because that's what I do. If some hottie were to give me a hug out of the blue when I was unprepared, I'd probably implode. Don't tease a girl with a sip of water when there's no well in sight. Seriously, I'd probably melt to the ground and cry in want of someone to hold me.
If I were to cry, why would I want a hug? A hug would make me feel weak and make me cry harder...if I wasn't ready for it.
If I were in the privacy of my own home with someone I trusted or a hunky dude, then a hug would be good. My ex-dysfunction used to give me shoulder-time when I was upset. I liked shoulder-time. I loved it. I miss it. I'd like shoulder-time with a new man. Tenderness.
When my Dad walked me down the aisle, he patted my hand the whole way. I'm not sure if he was nervous or thought I was. Affection.
When my Dad died, I still remember the hugs from family and friends. I can still feel them, physically feel their arms around me. Comfort.
I get/give friendly hugs from/to friends I've known for 25 years. Those are nice. I trust those hugs. Trust.
The hugs when my Sister and her family are leaving after a visit are a way to hold onto them until the next visit. Kalli squeezes. Tyler pats my back. When I try to think of the description of my sister's hug, it hurts too much for words. Commitment.
I hug my daughters. True Love.
Today at work, some guy was talking to me and another woman. He said something about giving out free foot rubs, but how I wouldn't want one, because I don't like to be touched. Dude! What the French, Toast?
If anything, I tend to crave sensory input, like Sophie does. I love to get massages, manicures, pedicures. I'm not ticklish. I love to get my feet rubbed. I have a bumpy footstool at work so that I can take my shoes off and rub my own socked feet. It's a great stress-reliever.
However, to the point, and of course, I make light of it, because that's what I do. If some hottie were to give me a hug out of the blue when I was unprepared, I'd probably implode. Don't tease a girl with a sip of water when there's no well in sight. Seriously, I'd probably melt to the ground and cry in want of someone to hold me.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Acceptance
Anything in life that we don't accept will simply make trouble for us until we make peace with it.
~ Shakti Gawain
It takes more energy to hate than to love.
It takes more energy to worry than to accept.
It takes more energy to clean your house than to blog about a messy house.
hehehe
~ Shakti Gawain
It takes more energy to hate than to love.
It takes more energy to worry than to accept.
It takes more energy to clean your house than to blog about a messy house.
hehehe
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