A Day for Me

Good morning,

My favorite time of day when the sun comes up and the birds start singing, I feel blessed. Finding the joy in the day somehow is easier when I plan what I must do during the day and what I must do for me.

It’s funny because when I began my please me list, it consisted of one thing each day, or most days, definitely some days. 

Vacation is one please me after another; and I thought vacation was relaxing to re-charge for return to work. The senior me is learning how to enjoy those rewards.

Bed, Bath, & Beyond in Bayamon to see if they have anything I can’t live without, and then Condado for the last Sunday of the month free jazz fest. I’ll drop Lucky off to play with Mayhem’s spaniel, while we have lunch at Popeye’s. Do I have to say how I feel about Popeye’s chicken?

Oh, yeah, this day is designed to please. Thanks, God!!

I made it thought the valley of the shadow of death; I’m me again. Unless you’ve traveled this road, you don’t know how this feels. You don’t want to know.

Senior me says,

“This day is dedicated to me.”

Repeat it, please!!  

Alive and Healing

Good morning!

After two years in the valley of the shadow of death, I’ve stepped on to the shore of my golden years. Hah, it’s good to be here.

The trick is to know you’ve arrived.  Grief isn’t over; I doubt that it will ever be over, but I’m strong again, so I can handle and enjoy life. Bad things happen daily; it’s proof of life, but sitting on the porch, listening to the birds, while the sun lights the valley I feel at home with nature, God, and my life.

Ever changing life, the beauty and the beast, happens whether you do anything or not; I’m back to planning. I told you I felt strong again.

In 1988 Kirt became disabled; I became super woman. I’m sure some woman reading this is nodding her head saying, “I know what you mean.”   When he died, so did super woman.

A vulnerability I hadn’t known since childhood hit me. I’ve worked to become the woman I wanted to be to have it pulled out from under me along with the loss of my best, best buddy.

Throughout my adulthood I’ve challenged myself with one goal after another; my husband would say, “What’s next for you; it’s always something.”

Next: The Dominican Jazz Festival 2016

Who’s coming?

   

2016 The Year of Healing

On the two and a half year anniversary of my husband Kirt’s death, I’ve lost my beautiful Border Collie, Dominic, Dominic Perignon. And I thought 2016 would bring healing.

I’m lonely, so I’ve writing to single men on a friend finder line. All I can say is if I’d buried my husband, I’d be crawling in next to him before I deal with any more slicksters telling me how beautiful I am and our love is written in the stars.

Dominic got dumped at the bottom of my drive early last spring. He hid in the weeds, when I came to get him with a towel. I always wrap new babies and give them a bath welcome to Sato Hill. Black coat, flashy white paws, and perfectly folded ears; he had me before his feet hit the ground. I cooed sweetly to my heart throb; instantly he Velcro’ed himself to my leg, my scared little boy.

In the eight months Dominic lived here, puppy to young adult, he matured into a crewe member, even Blondie went hunting with him. Dominic was full of himself in all of the ways young boys push and test boundaries. He thought he was the smartest in the room, which annoyed Chi-Ping, and me upon occasion.

From clingy to challenging I gave him what he needed to mature into a great dog, a companion. My darling boy, who chose to sleep outside was wanting in at night again; patience paid off.

Whoever took him, I pray they give him a good home. This hurts because I don’t believe that many dogs on this island get good homes. Tied in between house and garage is not a good life.

At least I gave Dominic eights months of a wonderful life. I enjoyed getting to know him. LOVE.