Ramblings of an Old, Romantic Soul

  Beauty, grace, and elegance charm beyond compare; flawless skin, coquettish smile, perfectly coiffed hair. Classy, with a fashion sense thrifty with a dime; kindly, prudent, and humble, selfless with her time. Principled, considerate chose a Godly life; a paragon of virtue, loyal, loving wife. Seven children, all adored never thinking twice; filled with years of happiness, love and sacrifice. Epitome of graciousness words convey, extol; the beauty of Carmella, gentle heart and soul. Kristina M. Hooper, 8/14/2022

  Memories, some fresh, some not invade my thoughts today being held within your arms,  you promising to stay Remembering each tingle each whisper on my skin spoken words, so tenderly all lies, to my chagrin. Betrayal stings, wounds the heart nostalgic days are tough Wistful, bereft spirit sighs, my love was not enough Kristina M. Hooper 8/02/2022

Going through motions, ‘cause that’s what I do pretending to care a damn about you. Thinking I’d rather be anywhere but wanting to break free to make a clean cut. Knowing I cannot keep up this charade convincing myself of love long decayed Believing that you must feel this divide facing the knowledge our sweet love has died. Breaking away so this pretense can cease Craving now only some 'semblance of peace. Kristina M. Hooper 8/11/2022

  Sitting, waiting nothing to lose, pondering on my missing muse. Faint and fickle without a trace return to me reveal thy face. Long has it been since she inspired, this poet heart is weak and tired. Patiently here,  with glass of wine, come back once more oh muse of mine.  Pretty, pretty please? Kristina M. Hooper, 8/3/2022

I am numb. I am lost.  my heart feels the frost. the loss of you overwhelms takes me to another realm where silence now reigns supreme and teardrops are a steady stream i cannot sing. i cannot dance while searching for another glance of your face, so sweet and fair time lingers, i am so aware our time, our love, was so brief how strange this is, pain and grief Kristina M. Hooper 7/27/2022 Photo credit to Kathryn A. Knauer

 It is Good Friday. My mind is full of memories, pictures from the past.  I was talking with my husband the other day about life; what we expect, is it what we thought it would be? It's no secret that he and I have had our 'differences', politically. It's tough. We've been married 25 years. Is our marriage, today, what we thought it would be? Yes, and no. Did we ever think we would be at odds? I said to him: "life takes over - we're not so innocent anymore. The pure joy of childhood dissipates. What we thought life would be changes. Life may not be quite what we thought it would - not that it's bad, just not what our child minds envisioned."  How true.  Early this morning, I was chatting with a very dear friend, one of the best humans I will ever know - Joan. She is my rock, and her faith constantly lifts me up. This what Joan said that has me thinking so much: "Remembering my childhood with a new Easter dress, fancy coat, Easter hat, ruffled

Depression is deceptive. Grief is sneaky. Together they are lethal, cunning, and insidious. And somedays I feel them grasping, pulling me deeper and deeper into the mire. It is scary.  This is truth. It does not mean that I do not have faith. I do. And I pray every day. Every day I see God's beauty. I thank Him for His grace and mercy - thankful for the blessings in my life.  And yet.  The other day I was mowing the lawn, something I enjoy doing. While resting, I happened to look over to the garden where Miss Marplestein and Dulcinea are buried - the hammer hit with the knowledge, again, they are not with us; that they died so close together and so near Mom's death. I am convinced that grief (for Mom and her sister), was a huge part in Miss M's death. These thoughts hit so unexpectedly. What do you do? Thoughts of my brother, still languishing in a hospital bed for three months, are never far away. Will he pull through? Is this his time - is God calling him home? Why can

It's funny how we hear/read/see things exactly when we are meant to do so. This morning I wrote in my journal 'my life is so unexciting. so mundane.'  I then picked up a book called "Life is Messy", by Matthew Kelly - a small, easy to read book that I picked up from the back of church. I opened and read the following: "Cherish the Ordinary  It was the ordinary things that saved me. I have experienced enough extraordinary to know that I would choose the ordinary over the extraordinary all day long. Learn to cherish the ordinary. Make a list of twenty ordinary things that bring you joy when you experience them consciously. Here's my list: breathing. sleeping. waking. water. nature. food. reading. thinking. conversation. music. ar. seasons. friendship. children. kindness. chocolate. laughter. hugs. holding hands. home.  Allow the ordinary to heal you." Wow. Not the extraordinary! The ordinary! The simple things that are a part of my daily life. The ordi

Yesterday, the 2nd, was six months. Six months that Mom has physically been gone from us. Odd thing, I was not aware of the date until a dear friend sent a text, saying she was thinking of me on this six month anniversary. When Dad died, I was so aware of each month, every 13th I mourned his loss. Not so with Mom. Why? Is it the fact that Dad was the first to go? I don't know. I miss Mom just as much. I think of her every day, and the 1st was a tough day.  Yes, when I got the text, I felt a bit guilty that I had not remembered. Did that mean I didn't love Mom? No. It simply means the grief process with Mom is very different than it was with Dad. And that's okay. As my sister, Sue, said 'This may not sound right but it's all good! She's with Dad and that's what she has always wanted.' True words.  Wise words. Time heals and life goes on. Feels like yesterday though, not six months.