Ramblings of an Old, Romantic Soul

At our wedding mass, during the homily, the priest stated that often times it was hard to stand and unite two people in marriage, knowing it most likely would not last; he was happy to celebrate our marriage because he knew we had a good chance of surviving.  And he was so right.  This past Wednesday, on the 26th of October we celebrated 15 years of wedded bliss. Our life has had its share of ups and downs, good times and bad, but overall the past fifteen years have been the best of my life.  After our marriage, we continued living with my parents.  My Dad had health issues, and we were able to help them when needed.  When my father-in-law started having health issues, we then decided to move in with him (and a brother-in-law).  My husband had given himself so selflessly to my parents, never complaining; I knew it was my turn to step up to the plate.  It was a difficult decision, and probably the most difficult time of our marriage, but I knew I had ...

I must be officially old.  Seems this young generation - the X generation - is nothing but a bunch of mambie pambies.  Mind you, I am well aware that this does not apply to all, but what is it with so many of these kids, or young adults, nowadays? And the term 'young adults' must be used mildly.  They think they are adults, yet they have no clue how to debate, how to hold a decent conversation.  If you contradict or disagree, they pout and curse you, or heaven forbid, 'defriend' you; they call you old and a bitch.  Yep, I am now at that stage of my life where I am old and a bitch.  But you know what?  Thank the good lord!  I can say what I want to say and not have to worry about someone liking me!  These so called 'adults' want to have their opinions and they want you to agree with them.  If you differ from what they think then we don't know what we're talking about.  Or I'm a drama queen.  They can cuss all they want, they...

It is nine months today since you breathed your last breath.  Nine months, and I still grieve your death. I miss you.  I miss your smile, I miss your laugh, I miss your hugs - I miss you. Why is it getting harder?  I go about my days, my weeks, and life goes on; and yet, there is an emptiness that I cannot deny.  There are snippets of joy, moments when a genuine smile appears on my face - but it is only temporary.  My life is gray.  Everything 'just is'. This morning I awoke and my thoughts are of you.  I remember the day you came home.  We were celebrating your homecoming, joyful you were back where you wanted to be.  We had 'welcome home' balloons, and many of your loved ones were there to greet you.  We went down to meet the ambulance and we walked alongside the gurney; we settled you and made sure you were comfy.  All this, knowing you had come home to die.  And that thought is what I cannot escape today.  You cam...

The final curtain dropped last week...he was sentenced.  He will spend the rest of his life in jail. Some may think this is a joyous victory, but it is not.  There are conflicting emotions, and it's very difficult to sort through the debris.  Yes, justice has been served and I am happy he will pay for what he did.  And yet, this is a man who was part of my family, someone I loved and called friend and to think of him spending the rest of his life in prison...well, it makes me very sad.  Some may think the sentence too harsh.  I do not.  He took two innocent lives and damaged them, imprisoned them in their own home...now he will serve the sentence he imposed on them.  Had he shown any sign of sorrow, any sign of remorse for his actions, perhaps he would have been spared; perhaps I would find some compassion for him.  He chose to remain silent.  He chose to proclaim his innocence till the end. He chose not to look at his daughters, he ...

Henley Patches Stewart Hooper 'And they call it puppy love...'  Ah, yes, and how true it is!  I am in love with a sweet, little puppy called Henley!  He is a Jack Russell Terrier mix, not quite two months old.  Henley came home to us on Monday, 15 August.  He is just the most adorable puppy in the whole wide world. Has it been an adjustment?  Absolutely.  Have the baby girls adjusted?  Not quite, but they are making progress each day.  Are we happy we made the decision to get a puppy - no doubt in our minds!  Perhaps my nose was a bit disjointed at first - I've only been asking for a puppy for two and half years, since we moved down here.  My hubs was dead set against it and nothing changed his mind.  Quite amazing that only one month after living with us, my niece was able to change his mind...hmmmm... Who cares?  I have my puppy.  I am Mamma; Luna is Mommy; of course Terry is Daddy.  All three of us...

Life has been busy for the past month or more and I haven't had time to write much of anything.  But this morning while perusing Facebook, a question was asked 'What inspired you to start writing poetry?'  Thought I'd share my response here on my blog. Back when I was 9-10 years old, I gave my Mom a little book for her birthday or Mother's Day; it had a bunch of poems, with pictures.  One was William Wordsworth's 'Daffodils'.  The picture was a beautiful array of yellow daffodils that mesmerized me; the poem and the photo touched my spirit in a way that cannot be explained.  I wrote my first poem shortly thereafter.  Certainly not a masterpiece, but there began my love of writing.  Here is the poem: Daffodils by William Wordsworth I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Contin...

Six months today.  Sometimes it feels longer, other times, seems like yesterday.  I miss his daily.  With the encouragement of some of my poet friends, I thought I would try my hand at a sonnet - this is my first ever sonnet...dedicated to Dad, my hero.   Each day I recollect your loving smile, those precious days before your dying breath; Sweet memories stored neatly in a pile, to comfort me when thinking of your death. Alone, together, privately to grieve, I wept and held your hand in mine, still strong; My heart did know that you'd be called to leave, I prayed with you and sang our favorite song. “Then sings my soul, my Savior God to thee’, your spirit loving each and every word; You were all ready, waiting to be free, ‘I love you, Daddy’, last words that you heard. My hero always, till the end so brave This child now thanks you for the love you gave. P.S.  I did use some poetic license; 'the last words you heard' = th...