It’s my blog and I hoped to be authentic and genuine, yet lately, I find myself tongue-tied in my head. There are so many things I want to write about, but I don’t do it and I am not sure why I hesitate. Am I getting older, not just on paper but also in my mind? Perhaps my ‘bite’ has become toothless and I pretend to be less critical.
“People say you’re born innocent, but it’s not true. You inherit all kinds of things that you can do nothing about. You inherit your identity, your history, like a birthmark that you can’t wash off. … We are born with our heads turned back, but my mother says we have to face into the future now. You have to earn your own innocence, she says. You have to grow up and become innocent.”
― Hugo Hamilton, The Sailor in the Wardrobe
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Friday in the morning a friend of ours died unexpectedly. He had a heart attack in his car on his way to work, nobody else was injured or harmed. The vehicle just stopped, when his heart stopped as well.
I have gotten some questions about my bucket list and I thought explaining it might also be a good idea to get my own mind in order. Some of the wishes on my list took me by surprise as well.
My dog is gone, yet he is still here
watching me cry, making me smile.
He joined the other ghosts
and there are many -and more to come.
I met her when she was in her late 80’s and fell instantly in love with the fragile-looking, stubborn, old Lady, who happened to be our new neighbor.
One of our dogs started barking at her through the fence, just a few days after we had moved in. I was ready to scold the dog when I heard the old lady talk to it. “It’s nice meeting you too. You are just saying hello to me, aren’t you.” Our dog, a shepherd-chow mix, stopped barking, sat down and the two had a conversation. One talked about her flowers, and the weather, our dog listened. From that day on they always met on the fence line.
Recent events brought to my attention that I might not live to be a hundred as I planned. I mean don’t get me wrong, nothing has changed, I still plan on sitting on the porch of an assisted living home –high up in my 90’s. I will be listening to “Uprising” by Muse -just to wake them all up-and my husband will be right by my side, sipping his watered-down beer through a straw. A senior dog we haven’t met yet will be resting at our feet.
Sometimes, out of the blue, I start to smile
when a memory of us comes to my mind.
My eyes start shining, my body relaxes
and within a few seconds life is beautiful.
“Death: “THERE ARE BETTER THINGS IN THE WORLD THAN ALCOHOL, ALBERT.” Albert: “Oh, yes, sir. But alcohol sort of compensates for not getting them.”
The other day at dusk, a little fly found it’s way into our home. It flew right by me when I let the dogs out. I noticed it but didn’t pay too much attention.
The next day, I opened the microwave to warm up some leftovers for lunch and sure enough, the little fly took its chance and flew right into it.