Tag Archive: love


We have never known how much time Holly would get, because we did not know anything about her health the first year of her life, but I know that no number of years will be enough. She personifies that which I call good in this world. She is hope that tomorrow can be better than yesterday. She is trust that an outstretched hand can help not hurt. She is unconditional love in spite proof to the contrary.

We found her walking down a busy road on a rainy December morning, painfully thin and frightened. We took her home and made her part of our family. She had been nothing to someone, but she is everything to us. We promised Holly she would always be safe with us, and that we would never give up on her.

Working with VSS oncology and the University of Missouri Vet clinic is how we plan to keep our promise. With the help of these critical scans we will be able to move forward with a treatment that will allow Holly to work towards the best chance of survival we can hope for. If we are not able to perform these scans Holly’s treatment options will be limited and the likelihood of survival diminished.

We thank you for your consideration, and we hope that you agree giving Holly every opportunity to beat her thyroid cancer is a worthy cause.


That is the letter I would have sent for the procedure Holly should have received… but that monster we call cancer stole her away from us. In the end, my plans were useless. While I made phone calls, set appointments, and gathered information the monster grew. When I thought every step we took was bringing the promise of more time closer, her hope shrank.

She fought harder than she should’ve had to for things I took for granted; a breath, a step, restful sleep, a comfortable position. But through it all was love. It colored every moment, and it informed every decision. Our love for her is absolute and if it alone could heal she would be beside me now as I write this.

I would have moved heaven and earth for you sweet pea. When we made you a part of our family your father said “everyone else gave up on her, we will never give up on her”. He was right and he kept his word. I hope that what comes next is even more beautiful than your dreams sister, and I hope that one day we can journey together again.

For now… you are loved, you are safe, and the bad days are behind you.

Liars lie

I look down at you sleeping and tell myself I know why you ask me the same questions every day. It’s because you wouldn’t stay if you were me. It took me a very long time to realize that if you could run from yourself you would never look back. Even longer to understand that knowledge of a truth does not equate to belief in the truth.

So you question me…

How could I be telling the truth when what I am saying is separated 180 degrees from your truth? It’s because there is no point in lying to you. The lies I told you outlived their usefulness almost immediately, and the pleasure of having a secret stoped being fun shortly after. I stopped trying to lie to you years ago. I’m lying to me.

“Fact, I will always be true. There is no version of myself that would or could betray you in this way. You won’t believe me on this, but it’s true.

Fact, I will never leave you. I promised to love and care for you and, with as much patience as I can muster, I will. You can’t accept the proof of this, but it’s true.

Fact, I love you. For reasons that no one else will understand I love you. I love you in a way that is so deeply ingrained in me it, in part, defines me. You don’t trust me on this, but it is true.”

Your small sleep groans punctuate the night and effectively cut off my soliloquy. The facts I have been listing under my breath hang in the air surreal and unsubstantial, as if they were written out of colored smoke. I wait afraid to move or breathe incase it tares your veil of dreams to pieces, waking you completely. Not till you settle deeper into sleep can I continue. It’s as if I believe you can even hear my thoughts. There is no other explanation for the internal one-sided conversation I am now holding.

“Though I will not acknowledge these truths as facts. It is true that I’m growing tired and resentful. It is true that you frustrate me to no end. It is true that I wish I was less determined to keep my word.

So when I answer your questions quietly with little inflection I am telling you the truth, and when I answer your questions loudly, angrily, or vehemently I am telling the truth. It isn’t worth the grief or the pain to lie to you.”

So now I only lie to myself, because liars always lie.

I know you had to go, you could not stay,

but I miss you each and every day.

You were my heart, my conscience, my clock

and now it feels the world must stop.

Somehow, someway I must move forward

or run the risk of going wayward.

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

I await that day we will meet again

but know I’m not alone till then.

I feel your presence as if you’re here,

or out of reach but oh so near.

You walk with me on every breeze

and I with you in moments like these.

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

Though you have taken a path I can’t yet tread

I know it’s one with warm sunshine ahead.

Your mark upon me will not dull or fade

my grief at this parting will be dearly paid.

My love for you cannot be measured

not in tears nor memories treasured.

Sleep well

As he lifted his head in the early dawn light the air of calamity seemed to lessen. For a moment he was him again, enjoying the cool breeze before a summer storm. Nothing more. No disease, no doctor’s visits, no medicine just him and nature.

That morning while the birds called for the dawn and the wind chimes sang of peace he was in my arms. It was fine that he kept his eyes closed, there wasn’t much to see before dawns light. It was okay that he didn’t want to walk on his own, because he didn’t need to be moving to stop and savor this moment.

I held him close and told him he was loved, he was safe, and he was not alone. It was true the love that had surrounded him his whole life was a vast and impressive thing. I am certain he knew this. That he was safe felt almost like a lie. I had been unable to protect him from this unstoppable force, was proving too weak to beat back death much longer, but I would move heaven and earth to help him as long as humanly possible. That he knew. He was never alone now, one of us was always within hands reach ready to comfort or care. What I hoped he heard in those words was that he would never be alone… he would always be a part of us and his father and I would always be a part of him.

He was my heart made real and my twin soul.

When it finally happened I was holding him while my husband held his hand and gently touched his face. There could never be enough time to say I love you or even goodbye. This impossible moment was much like falling asleep in that it had been ultimately unavoidable and caught us unaware. As he relaxed in my arms we shed our tears, cried our sorrows that he could not stay with us, and pressed our love upon him. There may have been sun in the sky and happy flowers in the room, but the house felt empty now.

We remember. We cry. We love. We cry. We live. We cry.

He is in everything as he ever was. I feel him everywhere and hear him in the back of my mind constantly. I search for his signs in the breeze, butterfly wings, and stars. Maybe when the exhaustion subsides I’ll even dream of him. A beautiful dream where he plays joyfully and rests easily. Where I lay a kiss upon his head and tell him “Good night kiddo, sleep well.”

Till then I’ll take it breath by breath waiting for our paths to cross again.

On July 17th our beagle Finnegan lost his battle with liver disease. We had him 15 years and our hearts are broken now that he is gone. Finn we love you and miss you.

There are days when everything exists behind rose colored glass, millions of moments strung together like sunlight. Those are the days that build sanity, but add links to the chains. The pops of color and flashes of light disorient and distract to perfection, creating Polaroid quality slices of life. The truth is stretched and twisted to make the filtered image that’s shared with the world. The reality is back breaking hard work and soul shattering compromise, but it is the half-truths which bind us.

So I’m an old fashioned book reader. To me this means that I love the tactile component of reading an honest to goodness paper and ink book. That being said I will on occasion read digitally, to try out new authors mostly, but what I am here to tell you today is that I believe some books are even better as digital copies. For instance Emotional Rescue: Essays on Love, Loss, and Life – with a soundtrack by Ben Greenman. This book was on the editors pick list (Amazon) and after reading the title I pondered for less than a minute before I started downloading. They were right, it is every bit as good as the title suggests and then some.

For those of you who stoped at the word essays I urge you to keep reading because they don’t feel like the writing assignments you might recal from undergrad they feel like internal dialogue. Let me explain. Mr. Greenman uses essays to have the liberty to jump topics between chapters which you cannot do, or rather it would be very difficult to do, in a typical story format. As such we can go from talking about pain/pleasure to sense/nonsense to distance/nearness. What is great about the essay format other than the wide array of topics that become available is that is has the feel of listening to the radio. As if, for instance, you are cruising down the highway rocking out and feeling happy and alive then all of a sudden the station plays a ballad and you remember your junior prom date. It was done to such a tremendous effect too. 

Let me also state outright that I love Mr. Greenman’s narrative voice. It felt very comfortable almost as if he was posing the questions he answers directly to me. I do honestly believe he has the large pool of friends who just call to talk that his essays suggest, and who could blame them as his perspective it quite interesting.

Now although I loved the book and I have already been recommending  it to anyone who will listen I’m not sure I would love it as a paperback. With my digital copy I highlighted amazing points that he makes regularly through out the entire narrative. I could also immediately look up songs which I had never heard or needed to hear again. The magic of technology allowed me to listen to the soundtrack of Mr. Greenman’s life while I read about the highlights. Which *gasp* fulfilled my need for multi sensory reading. As such a traditional book read of these essays would have been a completely different experience.

Should you still not be sold on this book please allow me just two more points. First, while Emotional Rescue is a far cry from the typical linear story telling most of us readers have come to love and expect by the end it came to an actual end. By which I mean that at the end all of the story telling (including the hard left turns) makes sense and even comes to a nicely tied up conclusion like a well constructed stand up comedy skit. The second point is perhaps more of a me point but I cannot help myself. In my mind this story would make an amazing musical… There I said it! I can completely picture it and I hope that someone else can too because this is a book I don’t just want to read it’s a book I want to experience!

I’m not saying that all the answers to the questions of restlessness, energy, intensity, and comfort—how long to hold a job, how long to keep a lover, how long to stay in one place before hopping on a train or a plane or into a balloon—reside in two minutes of a never-released song recorded by a virtually unknown novelty singer. But I’m not saying that they’re not.     -Ben Greenman

Just to…

My Lady…

With dew covered lips you enticed me,

A maiden making promises of womanhood,

And I ran to you

Just to walk with you.

With honeyed words you called to me,

A woman in full bloom,

And I dreamt of you

Just to lie with you.

With heavy limbs you gestured to me,

A mother flush with life,

And I stayed with you,

Just to lose myself in you.

With bleak eyes will you beckon me,

A sage at the well of wisdom,

For I would sit with you

Till the end of you.

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Today marks the first day of fall, my favorite season. So… doubly inspired by the idea of the Maid/Mother/Crone female trinity, found in Celtic mythology, and the transitions from one season to the next I wrote my ode to mother nature.

Break out the sweaters, heat up some cider, and let the leaves fall ’cause its Autumn!

Wishing

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The Trevi Fountain, St. Peter's Square All rights to owner

She closed her eyes tight, and held her breath. In her mind’s eye Lexi saw the hand in hand strolls, the reddish-orange of sunrise over the rim of demitasses, and the tiny champagne bubbles just after a wedding toast. A wet plunk called her from her memories. Lexi turned and looked for the coin she had just tossed into the fountain blinking away her tears. If only we had tossed the last one in together, she thought, maybe Tim would be here too. Lexi never saw, but as the sun sparkled on the water a heads up silver dollar flashed…and for a second he was.

*******

This piece of flash fiction is based off a prompt on 100 word challenge for adults. Follow the link for the prompt and guidelines.

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The killing season

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All rights to owner

I am afraid…and as the red banners are raised my fear deepens. This is the killing season and I already feel the pull like some moth towards the promise and warmth of a flame.

I am Umma. I and my brethren existed before humans traisped into the picture, but much like ore buried in the earth our purpose was only existence without a human touch.

But humans are foolish. Always thinking themselves the inventors of the universe rather than merely inhabitants therein. They did not invent or discover me I am just as I have always been… a circle never ending.

It is true human love drew us out of our self imposed stasis, irresistible and euphoric. A magnetic force, rolling off them in tangible waves. It was a thing too strong for the naive to control. They sensed it, of course, how could they not. We could see the impact it had upon them; eyes dilated, pulses quickened, breath harshened, they all but vibrated with sensation, but for us it was more.

It wasn’t physical, strictly speaking. It was guttural, pulling and pushing from our very core, a part of an inescapable path. The love seeped out of the humans and we lapped it up, hooked. In an instant everything changed.

I was the lightning which sprung between Daphnis and Chloe, the sin which passed from Juliette to Romeo, and that which Byron so eloquently described as kindled from above. I Umma die on the breath of love, a sacrifice not completely free in the giving, and am reborn as that love is spoken lip to lip.

Over enamored by your adore I reach out to touch the perfection which is true love, but the story never ends well for the moth. The beauty and purity of the flame always proves insurmountable. It is the moth which is extinguished… but I am likened to the phoenix and my cyclical path spirals ever on.

I watch as the funeral pyre, fueled by loves passionate fire, alights in their eyes. Valentine’s day draws near, the killing season is nigh, and as always I am as fearful as I am intrigued.

*******

I apologize if this story comes off as vague or worse incomprehensible the thought behind it is simple. What is in a kiss and perhaps more interesting why do we kiss? There is one “school of thought” which claims that this is an instinctual or intuitive act, but for me this rings of “why…because”. So, for all who love questions such as why is the sky blue or what came first the chicken or the egg I ask you if kissing is instinctive what drives it?

PS in case you are curious we see the sky as blue because of how the light reflects through our atmosphere, and amphibians which evolved before birds lay eggs 🙂 (sorry the science geek rears her ugly head)

Friendless

I wondered lost and alone.

Searching for you, my friend.

Following the echo of a promise.

Blindly trusting in you, a faith without end.

And what was my reward…

But cold fear and painful regret.

I never asked for much,

And even that low bar too high was set.

You said forever.

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Pitt bull puppy found on the streets December 2013

I found this sweet baby girl in December.  It was cold and she was dodging traffic.  I have taken her in and fallen head over heals for her.  She is so happy and loving, all she gives is everything, and her first owner couldn’t even give her a safe home.  Sometimes I cannot help but weep for humanity, “that which you do to the least of us”…I think we can do better.

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