Category Archives: beauty

Nineteen going on romantic

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I was having a conversation with a girlfriend about our first really memorable kiss (not together) and I remembered I had written this blog post last year.  I love this memory from my teenage years, so, since it is Throw Back Thursday,  I’m sharing it again.

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He held my hand during the movie.  It was sweet.  When he thought nobody would notice he leaned in for a kiss.  It was tentative at first, his lips slowly grazing the flesh of my cheek, but it drew my blood to the surface of my skin and I blushed in the dark.  His face nuzzled my neck and he kissed the skin below my ear.   The movie reel continued, scenes flashed before my eyes and the surround sound echoed throughout the theatre but I became lost in his touch and forgot the movie even existed.

I was 17 and my experience kissing boys was awkward at best.  Teenage boys were a kaleidoscopic combination of raging hormones and wandering hands and I didn’t expect this night to be any different.  I was well versed in a strategic line of defense when it came to thwarting enemy advances but tonight was different.  There were no ill-timed gropes and no need for the tactical measures that I had been prepared to use.

I turned my face to meet him and his lips found mine.  The kiss was soft with a hint of controlled yearning.  His mouth moved from my lips and he kissed both of my eyelids, knowing full well I was squeezing them shut to savor the feel of his mouth on mine.  He kissed the tip of my nose and, after a slight pause, our lips found each others once again.  Where I had expected urgency, there was tenderness.  Where I had expected roving hands on my body, there was only a gentle caress of his thumb on my hand.

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I was afraid to lose myself in his kiss.  I was waiting for the stampede of teenage male hormones to ruin the moment and I had braced myself for the inevitability of something so sweet turning into something so uncomfortable.  But that moment never happened.  His kiss was his power.  He didn’t listen to the teenage voices in his head telling him to get to second base.  He just seemed to feed off of the energy that was created in the intimacy of a kiss.

His other hand gently cupped my cheek and he pulled me back to his mouth.  It was exhilarating.  I no longer felt the need for my defenses and I let myself get utterly lost in that moment.  In the maturity and wisdom of his 19 years, he got it.  He understood the magic of romance and how to build a moment into a memory.

That moment from so many years ago is still etched into my memory and the power of a genuinely passionate kiss will always differentiate romance and sex.  May we all love deeply and kiss intentionally.

Do you remember the first great kiss you ever had?

Growth

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Germinating beans

Growth is not just about sprouting.

Growth is learning about your surroundings

and how to thrive,

how to become a bigger, better version of yourself.

Nourish yourself,

grow to your full potential,

but every now and then,

allow yourself to look back at where you came from.

The risk of not growing is more painful

than the risk of being constricted by what you once were.

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Written for the Grammar Ghoul challenge.  For this short week, we’re going to ask you for exactly 66 words of micro-fiction or poetry. And we’re only going to give you one prompt, an image, which you’ll find below (above). Your job is to give us a micro story or a poem inspired by the photo.

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Sometimes you just need to look backwards

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reflection quote

“A lake that is noisy cannot reflect anything”

– Robert Adams

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I like to spend time reflecting.  I don’t dwell on the past but I do visit from time to time so I can take a moment to appreciate the lessons I have been taught along the way.  I am a different person from the one I was masquerading as many years ago.   And yesterday, the serenity of my day off provided me with ample moments to look back and plenty of time to plan my journey forward based on where I am in my present.

My lake was quiet today.  It afforded me a few precious moments to realize that if I hadn’t experience failure, I wouldn’t have learned to appreciate success.  If I hadn’t lost pieces of myself along the way, I would never have been able to have found the real me and respect who I truly am.

Looking backwards may seem like a waste of time but that personal reflection will remind you of where you came from and make you acknowledge where and who you are today.

A funny thing happened on the way to the finish line

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Apparently, I am no Job.  I have no patience when it comes to many things and I just want to get from the start to the finish line.  The problem with sprinting to the end is that I forget to enjoy the scenery during the marathon that is my life.  I have a very bad habit of trying to make things happen instead of just letting them happen.  The meaning of the song ‘Que Sera, Sera’ is hopelessly lost on me.

I don’t know why I cannot let whatever will be, just be.  I need to teach myself to relinquish some of the control I so desperately want to have and let life unfold in front of me.  There is more beauty watching the petals of a rose open slowly than the rose itself at the end of its blossom.

rose

(image credit)

Perhaps wisdom really does come with age.  Maybe I am at the point in my life that I am willing to sit back and loosen the reins a little and see how the proverbial cookie crumbles without me breaking it into a thousand tiny pieces.  It’s time to let life happen and for me to find strength in patience and wait for those good things to come.

 

 

My world smiles at me

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4.2

There is a story told of two dogs. Both, at separate times, walk into the same room. One comes out wagging his tail while the other comes out growling. A women watching this goes into the room to see what could possibly make one dog so happy and the other so sad. To her surprise, she finds a room filled with mirrors. The happy dog found a thousand happy dogs looking back at him while the angry dog saw only angry dogs growling back at him.

What you see in the world around you is a reflection of who you are. ~ Author Unknown

(image credit)

Boys will be boys, and then they make you cry

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I knew this Christmas season would be difficult for me.  I’ve done my best to write my feelings into submission but they are stealthily lying just below the surface, waiting to bubble up when I least expect them.

Last night I celebrated Christmas with my brother and his family.  Nagging work schedules bumped the holiday up by a couple of days but any change in the old routine is a welcome change.  I arrived at the house with my food contributions, my secret Santa gift and the scrapbook I made of pictures of my mom so she could be with us in spirit.  What I wasn’t expecting was this:

shrine

My nephew had taken one of the candles I made for my mom’s memorial service in May, created a beautiful Christmas display and placed it in the middle of the room so she was with us during our celebration.  I now know how the Grinch felt when his heart grew three sizes.  I was so moved and my heart swelled so much that I thought it would burst out of my chest.  It was all I could do not to hug him until he turned blue.

That gift, that display made by a 14-year-old boy to honor the memory of his Nana, is, by far, the best gift of 2014.  I could not bring myself to show too much emotion for fear that the tears would come and never stop.  Instead, we high-fived and continued on with the merriment.  Gifts were opened, food was consumed and a great amount of laughter was shared.  I learned to never again go in a swimming pool with my brother (future blog post) and I learned that the spirit of Christmas was not tarnished by the absence of my mother, but lives on in the way we keep her spirit alive.

The tears finally came shortly after I got home.  They did not come slowly or poetically but exploded out of my body to make room for my swollen heart.  I can only hope that both of my nephews learned a few things about Christmas.  It isn’t about the material things wrapped in bags or boxes.  Christmas is about the people who are wrapped in your heart and doing everything you can to make sure they stay there.

Merry Christmas to all of you and may you enjoy the true spirit of the holidays.

Holding on to the light

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It is the eve,

not of the approaching holiday,

but of the shortest day of the year.

Darkness will swallow this landscape tomorrow,

giving us the fewest number of hours

to enjoy this beautiful sky

and create a seemingly everlasting night.

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 But through that darkness,

the light will grow strong once again.

The days will battle the nights

and the warmth will conquer the cold.

The blue of the sky will be deep

and the setting sun will linger,

allowing us to once again hold onto the light.

Finding the colors

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When sadness overwhelms us,

Mother Nature is there

to help us find beauty,

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to make us stop and absorb the moment,

to find peace in memories.

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to find the lining of colors

in an emotionally gray day,

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and to make us see the spirits,

free in the sky,

 to feel their presence and find our smile.

Why goodbyes are always so hard

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Today I had to say goodbye to, not only an office mate but, a sweet soul and a dear friend.  Ellie May was an 11-year old Landseer.  Her breed is considered to be a black and white version of a Newfoundlander.  She had the disposition of a wallflower and the radar of an airplane.  It took three months for Ellie to warm up to me.  Until then, when that radar detected my presence in her force field, she would alter her course to avoid a collision.  She wanted nothing to do with me.  I didn’t take offence because she was like that with most people.  She was a gentle giant and a very private dog.

Ellie may

Months later, my tenacity seemed to wear her down and, after a long period of the silent treatment, she finally tolerated my presence.  She wouldn’t run the other way but she didn’t seem enthusiastic to see me.  After many months that, too, would change.

This may read like a eulogy, and perhaps in a way it is.   Perhaps it’s easier for me to write my emotion and deal with my loss in cyberspace than it is to confront the empty space in the office where Ellie would to lie and demand her treats.

Although she wasn’t my dog, she was my friend and it is never easy to say goodbye to a friend.  It will take me a while to not hear her footsteps running to the office door and see her silhouette through the glass, looking at me and barking to let her in.  I will miss seeing her “smile” as she and her flapping gums ran down the road to greet me after seeing my car pull into the parking lot.  And perhaps the thing I will miss he most is the whispered bark that she saved just for me and the small circle her lips would leave open for me to “put the cookie in the hole”.

She and I had a connection, a language that we spoke to each other.  And although she was unsure of me in the beginning, she quickly came to realize I spoke dog.  I got her and she got me and we really did become friends.  She left many footprints on my heart and that is why saying goodbye was so hard.

I can only hope that Ellie is now comfortably enjoying her new life beyond the Rainbow Bridge, that her body is as young and spry as her spirit and that she knows how much we will miss her.

 

Redefining traditions and stocking up on tissues

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With Christmas rapidly approaching, my resolve to not spend the entire holiday season in tears is very strong.  It is going to be tough this holiday season without my mom but we have been doing our best to redefine some of the traditions we have known for so long and create some new ones.  I had carefully delineated a plan of not leaving the house, but that seems to be going off the rails so I’ll have to do my best to keep a brave face.  I’m sure a few tears will leak from the corners of my eyes and stain my cheeks but that is to be expected and will certainly be understood by all who see those tears fall.

Holidays are about tradition – whether adhering to old ones or beginning new ones.  This year will be a bit of both.  My mom’s famous Grasshopper Pie will surreptitiously make its way to the table after our feast of turkey and our best attempt at her stuffing.  But because of work schedules, our Christmas food bonanza and subsequent turkey coma will be on the 23rd so that will be the first of the changes for this year.

grasshopper pie

My brother and his family will attend the church service on Christmas Eve (I don’t think I can get through that step this year) and we will meet afterwards to show the newly purchased or creatively engineered ornaments to adorn the Charlie Brown Christmas tree my mom loved so much.  We will tell stories of why the ornament reminds us of her and take turns sharing our memories.  I may even sneak into town and hide in a quiet driveway somewhere to watch Santa Claus go by on the fire truck.  I don’t think I can let that tradition go and I know a few tears will find themselves frozen to my face before the truck has passed.

The most important thing to focus on, especially this year, is that Christmas is about family.  My brother, sister-in-law, my nephews and the family and friends scattered around the globe will always be the presence and the only presents I want during the holidays.  And somewhere during the festivities, I know that my mom and dad’s eyes will be looking at us through those twinkling lights and sharing those moments with us.  That is a tradition that will never end.