%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |  I've maxed out. Closed this blog. |
|
This is a way of making myself write something coherent and grammatically correct almost every day. I'm opinionated and need an outlet. I'm also prone to flights of fancy. Thanks for stopping by. |
| When a loved one passes, someone has to go through their things and dispose of them. So my elderly father and I have this job, to sort, discard, donate, or give away my late brother's belongings. It's a hard chore, but at least therapeutic. For a little longer, you connect with your lost one, by touching his belongings, by glimpsing into the more private side. My brother threw coins everywhere. At one time, he had jars available for easy tossing. But apparently, in recent years they were thrown into dresser drawers, night stands, a desktop, the kitchen counter, a table beside his TV chair. We're keeping track for probate reasons, as well as expenses. We never realized how organized he was. You wouldn't guess it from what I've said so far, but he was very tidy about receipts, paying bills, important papers. We've found it all with ease. Even his collections were organized, at least up until the very end. He was sick and getting worse.It was beginning to affect his ability to endure, to keep on track, to care about routine. If he didn't see the peanut butter jar, he opened a new one. He had 3 open, with hardly anything taken out of them. We're beginning to realize the depth of his suffering, and his determination to carry on without complaint or asking for help. This work is tiring. It's tedious and emotionally draining. It's necessary work. Will it help us go on without him? When I look at the pictures on the wall, the photographs he kept, and the canned goods in the cupboard, or when I stand in the room where he died, I feel a connection. I miss you, Jack. |
| It is a hard, hard thing to say good-bye forever to a younger brother. The last 8 days have been the longest of my life. It seems like ages since we found out about my brother's heart attack, and yet it is still hard to believe it happened. We are all tired and worn out, although we've had plenty of sleep and haven't eaten quite well, thanks to my church friends. It is a relief to be back at work, to have all the company gone, to have some time alone. It is therapeutic to go through my brother's papers, bills, etc., quietly and slowly. To touch his things, to see how organized he really was, despite his housekeeping skills, has helped us to hold onto him a little longer. Tomorrow my elderly father and I will go to clean the refrigerator and handle some of the less urgent, daily tasks, maybe even box up some of his collectibles. We muddle through from day to day. Life goes on, but our grief remains. |
| My life, and my brothers' and father's, will never be the same again without Harry. He was larger than life. He would object to a memorial service or eulogies, although he had both. He had a wake another night, while all his old friends from high school gathered for hamburgers, beer, and stories. I loved him as only you can love family. Flaws don't matter. It's the kind of love that just persists. He was a big-hearted person with a gruff exterior. He was generous to a fault, honest, fair, open-minded, forgiving, He'd go the second mile if you asked for one. No sacrifice was too great when it came to family. He was our hero. He was Mr. Christmas. All of our lives were better because of him--richer, fuller, more adventurous. He probably helped shape all of us into the people we are. The world really was a better place with him in it. He will always live in our hearts; he will always influence us. His life really was a life worth celebrating. |
| My 59 year old brother passed away. It was shocking to us. We knew he was not well, we did not know how bad it was. He thought he was shielding us, I guess, from his misery. It doesn't help us now as we put the pieces together and know just how much he was suffering and for so long. My father is in his 80's and he's not handling it well. His emotions are all over the place. Everything we say or do offends him. We're all at different stages in our grief. Some are too outspoken; some don't speak up until the boiling point hits. It's very tense. We love each other, but we aren't helping each other grieve. We're all at odds. I guess we'll work it out. The bottom line is we've lost someone special and none of our lives will be the same. That we share. |
| Where would we be without hope? Expect good things in 2012. This year could see your best poems or your completed novel. Or you could actually start to supplement or replace your income by selling your materials! You might produce the great American novel, or write a world classic.Don't worry about disappointment. Just look for the good things! |
| May all the sorrows, disappointments, and heartbreaks of 2011 be behind you. May you find health, prosperity, laughter and happiness in 2012. May the joy of writing always be yours. Happy New Year. |
| My young friend, Anthony, whom I met through WDC, posed the question a day or so ago to his friends. It struck me as a good one for anyone over 20 years old. Yes, we have changed in our life circumstances, health, and so forth, but the world has changed, too. So I pass the question on to anyone who reads this. What were you doing as 1991 drew to a close? Were you in college, starting a family, starting over after some big change, retiring? What styles did you like, what music did you personally play, what were your hobbies? What was your view of the world? Did other people know you liked to write? For me, my income had stopped climbing and I was living away from all family because my job moved me. My company had downsized, and it was apparent the career into which I had invested all my time and energy was going to disappear soon. I wasn't married and had been told not to have children due to my health risks. The college degree was just a memory, and the future looked bleak. Looking back I know it was just a rough patch (it got worse before it got better), but at the time all my dreams were gone. There were no cell phones, no Internet, no dish TV. I could ride to DC in an hour from my driveway and be on Pennsylvania Avenue. If lucky, you could find a parking space near the White House. You could still find a hardware store in any town, walk in and have a clerk find exactly what you wanted, like loose screws or wire--no prepackaged things hanging on hooks in a long aisle. There were still downtown movie theaters and department stores. Women's shoes were still comfortable, even stylish ones. There were no coffee shop chains, LP's were still available, as were a few 8-tracks, although cassettes were the more popular form of music. In the area where I lived, halfway between the state capital and the nation's capital, there was a proliferation of trucks with gun racks, everyone loved NASCAR, even the old ladies at church. Plaid shirts for men were seen everywhere, and the dress code was rather limited unlike my hometown which is a university town.What I didn't realize was that people were beginning to flood into the area and within 10-15 years, the population would triple, the forests, golf courses, and farms would become huge shopping and entertainment areas. and battlefields would become subdivisions and schools. The traffic would become a nightmare, and it took longer and longer each year to arrive at the same destination. Forget taking the car into DC; catch the monorail now. Whatever your age or where you are, tell me how things were back then. |
| Another year. Another Christmas and I'm not ready. There's barely enough time to get off from work, get the last two gifts, and get home and then to start the serious stuff: Wrapping, moving presents to the tree, last minute dusting, vacuuming, polishing. And laundry, fresh linens, the usual pre-guest rituals. Cooking anything that can be prepared or at least started in advance. Baking Christmas cookies.I'll feel ready about two days after Christmas. That's the way it usually happens. By then, I could be comfortable, relax and enjoy it, all and reflect on the beauty and meaning of the season. (A day late and a dollar short?) A family member is coming tomorrow to do his Christmas Eve dinner, a menu I wouldn't dream of for Christmas Eve, so all the things I bought will be in the freezer. True, I won't be cooking dinner, but I'm pretty sure I'll be doing the clean-up. And I can't use the kitchen while someone else is in there. I'll just do housecleaning while he occupies the kitchen. And he won't tolerate any Christmas music. I need a nap, but won't get one. I need a haircut, but I waited too late. I know it all sounds petty. But I feel like the rush is on, expectations are high, and I'll fall short, and I will be tired, and won't enjoy much of it all. No matter how much I try to prepare, to shop early, to plan, to make lists and schedules, there's always the unexpected. And other people just don't get on board with my expectations or plans! None of us live in a vacuum. Those people we try to please and who might be trying to please us just get in the way of our dreams and ideals. We all envision the holiday a little differently. We all have different tastes, different styles, different wants, and different comfort levels. Somehow the compromises never feel good. We all end up feeling a little disappointed or disillusioned. It has nothing to do with the gifts we receive, or the decorations, or society's commercialism. Maybe we've become control freaks--we want it our way! When we can't force everyone else to do it our way, we settle for less and the spirit fades. I hear so many people who go into it expecting a lot, and not getting a lot emotionally for all their effort. I;m going to keep working on it. I hope I live long enough to figure out how to get through it all without being angry or hurt or blue (while trying not to let others know. They just think I'm not personable.) This year I realize I'm not getting anything my way, so maybe I won't be any more disappointed than I am before it starts. I haven't given up the hope of finding some joy somewhere in all the activity. |
| It's that time when people start fretting over gift giving again. "Why do we buy adults gifts?", "I hate spending all that money on gifts people don't like or won't use", etc., etc. Well, my first response is that if giving a gift doesn't give you joy, don't do it. I give gifts because I like to please people. I try to surprise them or get something they wouldn't get for themselves. I like making people happy. I really like a "Wow" kind of response, which can happen for a cheap gift, if the thought is right. Of course, it's not easy. And I do end up feeling obligated sometimes because I know that person will be getting me a gift. And I don't like most of the gifts I get. But if it makes the other person happy to give it to me, it's okay. (I am tired of scarves and gloves and lotions. I hate the Bed and Bath shop stuff because of my skin allergies.) So I also realize if I'm not so fond of mine, others aren't so fond of theirs. Spending a lot isn't a necessity. I try to give out hints each year of cheap gifts to make it easier on relatives. Like this year, I'm into jigsaw puzzles. I like Dove hair products and Olay skin care, and gift sets like that are available in WalMart for $12 or less. And there are some CD's I would like. On the more expensive side I'd love to have one of those spice racks sold on TV (2 for $20). But no one ever takes the hints, and I can't get them to give hints in return. One person told me not to get him anything. He'd be happier seeing me take the same money and spend it on something I really like. Well, I do that all the time. And it doesn't express anything about what I feel for him. He's a dear relative. In times of hardship, he's been very generous with me. I want to express my esteem for him. He doesn't have to give anything in return. I've had a lot of really lean years when I couldn't do much in gift giving, because of health problems, marriage problems, divorce, etc. I was embarrassed to journey home to my generous family with so little to give. I'm on steadier financial ground right now, not overly comfortable, but improving. And now, I know we're all getting older.Our collective health is not what it used to be. I have heart trouble and it's beginning to affect my liver. My days are numbered. My uncles are in their 70's, and my dad is in his 80's--till working, but slower than he used to be. I don't know how much longer we will be together. I treasure the people who have stood by me through the hard times, and are still there. I want to give them things, no matter how paltry those things may be. Those measly little gifts are a symbol, not of wealth and not of degree. They're just symbols that these are special people, I appreciate them, and I need to do this symbolic act of giving them something that demonstrates their worth to me. I wrap them and label them, and give my best effort to represent my appreciation of their value. I hope your gift giving is a source of joy and not a headache for you. |
| I love to go to YouTube. I look up a song that's sticking in my brain, and then listen to it repeatedly, sometimes by different artists. It's amazing how one song can be interpreted so differently by so many different people. And sometimes, I am able to pick "the" definitive version. Usually, I like several. For instance, "You Don't Know Me" was originally song by Eddie Arnold. I've always been a big fan. He's mellow and has a very smooth, masculine voice. His classical training allows him to hit each note perfectly and enunciate clearly. He does a superb job with this song. Others, like Ann Murray, have done an okay job, but have not surpassed him. I never heard Michael Bolton do it, until I listened to Eddie on YouTube. Wow, dynamite modern version. However, Michael Grimm-from America's Got Talent- has surpassed them all. He sings it with heart and emotion, and you feel his pain. Before Bolton, the words were sad and sweet and melancholy. With Bolton, they took on more power. With Grimm, the words are sad words, anguished words; he makes you feel the heartbreak. I listened to many people sing the Christmas song, "Mary, Did You Know". Wynona Judd and Kenny Rogers were the only ones for a while, and it was a good song. They're both good singers, and the song is moving. Reba adds a twang to it and makes it everyday and approachable (it's a hard song for a choir). Finally, I found Kathy Mattea. She has the ultimate version of this song. Her voice is rich and gives this song the depth and seriousness it deserves. She's smooth, and performs it perfectly. It really is the best version, no matter how good the others may be. "The Christmas Song" has been recorded by dozens of people. I haven't picked a favorite. Mel Torme, Nat King Cole, James Taylor.... the list goes on. However, this brings me to another aspect of YouTube that I don't like. (We won't get into copyrights, bad recordings, lousy videos, etc) The comments are frequently outrageous. Why people get so angry and have to swear over everything is beyond my imagination. If you don't like something, don't listen to it; don't inflict your nasty, hateful thoughts on the rest of us who happened to glance at the comments while listening to a song. (I've never commented on one, which is why I'm venting here.) However, occasionally, the owner of the video site puts erroneous info out there. Misinformation is prolific on the internet (Bet you never heard that before.). On one video of "The Christmas Song" with Torme and Cole, the note says that Torme never wrote any verses until the sixties and Cole recorded it in the 40's. Truth: Torme wrote the song with lyricist Bob Wells. They wrote the lyrics together, and Torme did all of the music, and they wrote it in its entirety in less than 40 minutes. No words were added later. Two years or so after they wrote it, the Nat King Cole Trio recorded it for the first time. This version was a big hit, and went into the Grammy Hall of Fame in the 90's. The Cole Trio recorded it one more time with strings. Later, Cole recorded it with the Nelson Riddle Orchestra, then recorded it again later with a different orchestra director in stereophonic. Meanwhile, Torme recorded it 4 or 5 times in the 60's and beyond. Both singers had very mellow voices, and it would be hard to say which is the best. Cole probably sold more copies, but I can't verify that. Torme lived longer and performed it live more often. Since he wrote it, to many, it was Torme's song. The Velvet Fog maintained his gentle style and perfect tone into his old age. He hit the high notes at the end better than most young men. I plan to keep using YouTube. I wish that the reorders would get accurate data before writing comments. And visitors like myself should be censored for profanity. Disagreement is fine, but personal attacks and maliciousness are not necessary. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
