Ramblings of an Old, Romantic Soul

So, as everyone must know by now, I love my cats...Miss Marplestein and Dulcinea.  They are simply adorable and bring so much pleasure to my life.  I posted the other day about Dulcinea getting into my 'unmentionables' drawer.  Well, not to be out done, I must post about Miss Marplestein.  Now, she is much more demure than Dulcinea.  The other night, I looked up, and there she was, just sitting on the wall enjoying the Christmas tree lights and decorations.  Yes, I had to snap a picture or two and yes, I just had to post.  She was so intent she didn't even notice the camera.  I wonder what she was thinking or was she just wishing upon the star? Both cats have loved the tree this year - have enjoyed sleeping under the pine canopy, especially when Henley is visiting the neighbors.  All is peaceful and quiet.  Merry Christmas to my baby girls who bring me such joy!

Today, sixty years ago, the union of two beautiful people took place in Heilwood, PA ~ it was the beginning of a great love story that would last through the years.  I am thinking of my parents today, with all my heart.  This, of all days, must be the most difficult for my mother.  They were two young people, from very different walks of life. One was an only child, a latch key kid even way back then, the other one of six from a traditional family.  One was a city boy, the other a country girl.  One grew up thinking she was adopted (as many of us do!), the other grew up the center of attention, the apple of his family's eye.  And yet, they were similar in many ways:  both had lost a parent early in their life; both had a strong, Catholic faith, and both were naive and innocent in the ways of the world And yet, they managed to find their way to Washington, D.C., meet, and fall  in love.  My mother always says they were 'just two young kids who didn't, know what we were d

So, my 'baby girls' continue to be a delight.  They amuse and amaze constantly.  And today, when I most needed a distraction, Dulcinea provided.  She has taken to scratching at either the linen closet or my underwear drawer...if she does this long enough, she opens the closet or the drawer, and climbs inside.  Today, we came home from our walk and there she was, sitting in my underwear drawer - and she had tossed some of my 'unmentionables' onto the floor!  A good laugh indeed and just too precious for words. I can't seem to focus on much...everything I think about leads me back to Daddy...and I can't seem to decide what I want to do; my mind switches from one thing to another and I can't make decisions.  Do I want to go to church - but if I do I'm afraid the first note of the first carol will open a floodgate.  Do I want to go to my sister-in-law's family - but if I do, I'm afraid all the laughter and togetherness will make me miss him even mo

So many thoughts have been raging through my head today, so forgive me if none of this makes sense - it is pure randomness...my thoughts put to paper, or put to blog. Eleven months today.  I marvel at the complexity of grief.  How is it my mind knows something is real, yet my heart has such a hard time believing, cannot comprehend.  His absence is still surreal.  It's so hard thinking of him in the past tense - I can't.  My heart won't let me just yet.  I miss you so much. I guess this relates somewhat to my last blog about growing up ourselves.  To my niece who has chosen her own lifestyle:  your choice.  You've chosen to smoke pot, drink excessively, party...you've chosen your sexuality. You've chosen not to keep a job - all the other things you're doing are just too important to hold down a 'stupid' job - seasonal or not.  Just because your parents will no longer tolerate your irresponsibility and don't approve of your choices, does not me

Ah, is there such a thing any more?  Seems in today's world, everyone wants to blame someone else for their problems.  'I'm this way because my parents spanked me' or 'I'm afraid to love because I was jilted 20 years ago' or 'I can't succeed because my teacher gave me an 'f' and it made me feel inadequate'...yadda yadda yadda. So, life isn't perfect...get up and move on, and instead of blaming take responsibility and move forward. The other night we caught part of a movie - Death at a Funeral.  The original, British version, not the remake with Chris Rock.  It's quite a comedy, as only the British can do.  At one point, the son who feels inadequate in so many ways, gives a speech about his father (a secret life of his father has just been revealed and is quite shocking)...and his speech struck a chord with me.  Below is an excerpt of the speech: "...Life isn't simple, it's complicated. We're all just thrown in