Category Archives: family

To my WordPress family – I embrace you all

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I received a lovely message tonight from Chasing Rabbit Holes that truly made me smile.  I feel grateful every day to have made such good friends on the WordPress site – friends who are supportive, encouraging and immensely talented.  Here is the award that I was given.  Below is a description of the award and at the bottom of this post is a list of bloggers that I call family.

wordpress-family-award

This award was initiated by Shaun (Praying for one day), who created this special award:

“This is an award for everyone who is part of the “Word Press Family” I start this award on the basis that the WordPress family has taken me in, and showed me love and a caring side only WordPress can. The way people take a second to be nice, to answer a question and not make things a competition amazes me here. I know I have been given many awards, but I wanted to leave my own legacy on here by creating my own award, as many have done before. This represents “Family” we never meet, but are there for us as family. It is my honour to start this award”

Rules:

1. Display the award logo on your blog.

2. Link back to the person who nominated you.

3. Nominate 10 others you see as having an impact on your WordPress experience and family

4. Let your 10 Family members know you have awarded them

5. That is it. Just please pick 10 people who have taken you as a friend, and spread the love

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What a lovely award and now to share it with my “family”

Sage Doyle

Dianne Gray

Guapola

Edward Hotspur

StuphBlog

Ned’s Blog

Red’s Rants and Raves

Shouts from the Abyss

Shackled and Crowned

Fish of Gold

The Mercenary Researcher

Thank you to all of you for being so supportive, especially during the tough time with my mom.  And thank you to the many others in my blogging family that keep me motivated and inspired to write and read as much as I can.  Sometimes you really do get to choose your family.  🙂

Falling behind

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With the events surrounding my mother over the last two weeks, I have been falling behind in reading many of your posts.  Thankfully I had many posts written and have been sweeping the dust from those and posting as often as I can.

I have over 1400 emails, most of them notifications of your posts or your comments and I will do my best to get caught up as soon as I can.  I do wish to thank you all for your reading support and your kind words about my mom.   We are still in limbo and are unsure where to go from here but we still maintain as much hope as possible for a good outcome.

I will try to take some time for myself and get back into reading your words that I have come to love.   I do have one light in the tunnel – my magazine article will be published May 1st.  I will try to link to it so I can share it with the blogging world.

Thank you again for being a part of a group that I have come to think of as friends.

The voices in my head

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The voice in my head has a British accent.  I’ve never questioned it because she has certainly given wise advice over the years, but when I hear the words spoken in my head, she always has the same accent.  She is not the only voice I hear, but she is certainly the most dominant.

I’ve never questioned her intelligence or her integrity.  And though some may say it is my own voice that I’m listening to, I know the voice comes from somewhere beyond my realm of reality.  I believe in spirit guides.  I believe that although a soul is not attached to a physical body, they roam among us and attach themselves to certain earthly lives.  They give us sage advice when we are prepared to listen or they may just keep us company on our journey through life.

spiritguide

(image credit: acelebrationofwomen.com)

Some refer to the feeling as intuition or even divine breath.  Some call it a gut feeling.  Regardless of what we name it, the feeling is the same.  You inherently know that a decision is either right or wrong and whether you have heard that voice in your head or felt the feeling in the pit of your stomach there is an outside force helping to point you in the right direction.

Some have the ability to understand the message and heed the advice.  Others choose to ignore the signs and forge ahead, mindless of any consequence.  It is up to you to listen – to understand that the compelling feeling of having some hand from above reaching to help you is not your imagination.

Stealthily they enter our lives and they yearn to give us perspective.  They want to help us think outside of the box we have voluntarily entombed ourselves in.  If we learn to cultivate our intuition we may find ourselves believing more in the helping hands that we cannot see.  Give yourself a moment to listen to that voice.  Let their breath of experience help fill you with the knowledge that your gut feeling is right.

My mother has never been a big believer in my spiritual theories.  But in the last couple of days she has admitted to feeling my father’s presence with her in the hospital watching over her and keeping her safe.  They do walk among us and only sometimes do they truly make their presence known.

Never Give Up – Trifecta Post

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The alchemy of her feelings had changed drastically and she did not know why.  She had felt rage, had felt cheated out of a big part of her life, but now felt nothing but a growing sense of peace and understanding.  The illness had finally caught up with her and she could no longer pretend everything was going to be alright.  When her time eventually did come, she could face her family with honesty and say she led a good life.  She would never give up but she now had to face the new reality of her limitations.  With fire in her eyes, she was determined to outlive them all, just for spite.

~

This post was written for the Trifecta challenge and is written for my mom who is currently in hospital.  I hope she beats the odds and proves us all wrong.
ALCHEMY (noun)

1
: a medieval chemical science and speculative philosophy aiming to achieve the transmutation of the base metals into gold, the discovery of a universal cure for disease, and the discovery of a means of indefinitely prolonging life
2
: a power or process of transforming something common into something special
Please remember:
  • Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
  • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
  • The word itself needs to be included in your response.
  • You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
  • Only one entry per writer.
  • If you know your post does not meet the requirements of the challenge, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz.
  • Trifecta is open to everyone.  Please join us.

The sounds of solace

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Even through the most troubling of times, there is something inherently soothing about music. The dulcet tones relieve the pressure that reality compounds and the rhythm can make the most difficult situations bearable.

I love most types of music but the sounds I find most comforting during difficult times are the harmonic blends of The Tenors. The uplifting tones of their four part harmony bathe me in a warm glow and bring me out of the dark tunnel. The joy they find in singing allows me a moment to pause and rejoin the beauty in the world.

The timbre in their notes carries me to a place of serenity and I am embraced by a feeling of peace. It amazes me how quickly the stress is assuaged and washed over by a wave of calm by simply allowing the pacifying effect of the notes soothe my soul.

As my mom watches the tiny television from her hospital bed, four Canadian Tenors are alleviating my current reality momentarily by singing their lullabies to me. Let the music of life play on.

Stressing the “un’s”

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Life is a mixed bag. Stress is inevitable, but more than likely comes from things that begin with “un”. Things that are unpredictable, uncontrollable, unfamiliar or unseen cause us undue pressure.

We become very uncomfortable and somewhat unsettled forging ahead into the unknown feeling unprepared. We may lack the understanding needed to avoid feeling unsure.

Life can be unfair. Illness can be unforgiving and waiting can be unbearable. The “un’s” hover relentlessly and we are unable to regain a sense of control.

I am struggling to beat those “un’s” into submission, but they are unrelenting and refuse to allow the knots of their hold to be undone.

I, however, am unwilling to admit defeat. That is unacceptable.

Concrete walls and a machine that goes “ping”

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There are no four walls that contain more joy and more misery than a hospital. A place of healing can quickly become a place of sadness with the reading of a few numbers or a somber look on a Clinician’s face.

The four walls that currently contain my mother are filled with uncertainty and questions. She is being kept comfortable and pain-free and the staff have been attentive and kind. But there is still a shroud of nagging doubt – a cloud that hovers over my mother’s hospital bed threatening to flood the room with reality.

The machines beep, the fluids continue intravenously and the revolving door of doctors, nurses and visitors continues to spin. Kind words are spoken, prayers are uttered and friends become more like family.

Thank you all for the words of support and the hugs sent across the blogosphere. It truly means a lot. And even though the embrace is not tangible, I can still feel it.

A long and bumpy road

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I haven’t been able to spend much time with my words for the last few days.  My mom went into the hospital on Thursday morning and I have been spending all of my days with her.  She is quite sick and we’re not sure where we go from here.

It’s a helpless feeling watching someone lie in a hospital bed, looking so frail, and knowing that I can do nothing but sit and keep her company.  I have done a bit of reading, but more than anything I watch her sleep.  In her current world of tubes and medications, she dreams a lot and talks in her sleep.  I lean forward and strain to hear what she is saying, but nothing she says is very intelligible.  I’d like to think that somewhere in the haze of her drug induced suspension of consciousness that my father is whispering in her ear from his place beyond our world and keeping her company as she sleeps.

Almost as much as I miss my writing, I miss reading all of your words.  Our family has a long and bumpy road ahead, but I hope I can find some time to distract myself from reality and lose myself in the happy land of WordPress.

I am on my way back to pass my day entombed by the drab walls of the hospital and listen to the beeps and hisses of the monitors.  My words still churn in my head, but now they form prayers for my mom.

I’m not sure if I’d call it a possession…Daily Prompt

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The Daily Prompt lured me in again with its devious, thought-provoking challenge – Prized Possession:  Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a child. What became of it?

For all intents and purposes, it wasn’t actually mine.  It was tangible and readily accessible when I summoned up the courage to play games with it, but I had no ownership of it.  I couldn’t play with it on a whim because I had little to no control over the time I would get to spend with it.  Whatever time I did get to spend with it made me love it even more.

It had many different features and helped me develop a true sense of competition.  It had a hard-outer shell, but once you worked it in a little bit, it became much softer and more pliable. At certain points in my life, I actually tried to emulate this item.

I have never lost my attachment to it.  If anything that attachment has only grown stronger over the years.  I never had to think back and wonder what became of it because it is still near and dear to my heart.  It resides five minutes from my house in a house all its own.  I still play games with it, like the old days, but the games are different now.

This prized possession, the item I am still so attached to is the father of my two nephews, my brother and one of my best friends.

Another trip around the sun

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Today is an important day in my life…..today I am acutely aware of the number of years I have been on this ever revolving planet.  A birthday is not a number to me, but a moment to celebrate the day I entered this life. (and it’s 44, but I still feel 29 so that counts, right?…..right?)

I celebrate with many people, some I know well, some I’ve never met, but there is one important celebration that mirrors mine – my Winnie The Pooh.  My mom created a stuffed version of the beloved character for me when I turned one and, to this day, I still have that somewhat tattered foam-filled creature.  McCall’s created a Disney series of patterns in the 1960’s that she duplicated for my brother for his first birthday and again, almost four years later, for my birthday.

He has seen his share of joys and tragedies.  He has undergone facial reconstruction and some botched plastic surgery (thanks to an over-excitable Labrador Retriever that belonged to a roommate) but he still never fails to hang in there to share year after year with me. He and I have weathered many successes and many ominous periods together, but he still remains the same source of comfort he has always been.

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Although it may seem somewhat childish to hang onto a toy that I have long outgrown, Winnie still holds an immeasurable value in my life. He represents a part of my childhood that I hold dear and he continues to represent the faith that I hold in my friendships.  He and I may not be able to communicate on the level that is deemed normal for friends but I still feel comfortable confiding in him, knowing that he will always be there to listen when I need him.

Happy birthday Winnie…..may we continue on our journey and have a very long life together!!