Today Is the Day
Tenth of November, two thousand and twelve,
A Date which will forever change your life,
You started the day as two people in love,
But will end it as husband and wife.
Whispers of love combined with tears of joy,
Exchange of rings, a new future has begun,
A shared kiss will seal forever promises,
When two hearts are joined as one.
Today is the day for music and speeches,
A day filled with hopes, dreams and plans,
Dancing and singing, celebration and laughter,
At the marriage of Melanie and Dan.
Today Is the Day
I really love his fiancée. I couldn't ask for a more lovely girl for him and I so I am really happy for them both. I've actually been calling his fiancée 'family' for quite a while now and was expecting them to marry sooner or later.
Family is an interesting concept. What is family? Is it a blood relationship, a heart relationship, a spiritual relationship, a shared home or is it based on common interests? I guess you could say it is all, some or any of the above.
I love my husband and my two sons. When I think of family, they immediately spring to mind. Even though I don't see my eldest son often, my love for him never waivers.
In my family of origin, there were four of us...my parents, my sister and myself. My parents have passed and my sister and I remain. Even though I only see my sister occasionally, she will always be family to me. We may not be as close as we were growing up but nothing will stop us being sisters.
I love my in-laws and am honoured to call them family. I know they think I am more than a little crazy but they still love me anyway. I live near my parents-in-law and see them often, while my sister and brother in law are living in other parts of the country and I only see them once or twice a year.
I have friends I have met online whom I regard them as family. We may not always agree but I feel they love me unconditionally. I may not talk to them everyday but when I do, we pick up as if we have never stopped the conversation. Some I have met in person and others I am planning on meeting in the near future and am looking forward sharing a hug and a cup of tea with them.
I'm a Christian and worldwide Christians are called the family of God. I could walk into any Christian church anywhere in Australia or anywhere in the world and know I am amongst family. Of course, there will be the odd embarrassing uncle or aunt in the church but they are everywhere and in every family...and yes, I know some regard me as the eccentric auntie and I really don't mind that.
Thinking of all of this, I realise that 'family' is not static and easily defined but living and growing and changing as we live and grow and change. Life isn't a colouring page where you must stay within the lines, where you pick the blue crayon for the sky and the green crayon for the grass. Who says leaves are green and the sun is yellow? Not me. And who would want it any other way? Certainly not me.
Waiting For More
Passes so slowly
The ticking of the clock
An aural reminder of empty hours
How long must we delay?
Will we ever receive
Our hearts desire?
Potential for so much more
So sad when love left as quickly as it came.
Parents are usually victims of this phenomenon. They love their kids no matter how far off the rails those kids may go. Though, I am aware that isn’t always the case. Some parents only love their children as long as that child obeys or follows an unwritten family guideline.
I read this quote by Tony Gaskins recently. He said 'If you think unconditional Love is easy, then obviously you don't know what Love is'.
I’m a mother and I love my children. I know they often do things that I don’t agree with or even approve of, but that doesn’t mean I love them any the less. If one my children needed a kidney, I would give it to him and if the other needed one, I would gladly give up the other.
I think the messiness in this unconditional love is when God brings you into contact with someone and you immediately feel a bond. Problem is, you feel the bond and the other doesn’t. You can love them, encourage them and cry with them when things go wrong, celebrate when things go well and be a willing ear time of the day or night.
Of course, they may not feel the same way towards you at all. They could say they love you or care for you but really, it is just empty words that sound good at the time. From where I am standing at the moment, it hurts when you want just a little bit of the same unconditional love in return and they turn away and ignore you.
I sometimes wonder if God feels the same way. He loves us, even if we don’t want to acknowledge him. Is he overjoyed for us when things go right in our lives? Does he cry with us when things go wrong? Is He a willing ear any time of the day or night? Does it hurt God if we can say we love Him on Sundays and quite happily ignore Him any other day of the week?
Questions I’m asking myself as I’m trying to work my way through this: How can I love someone unconditionally and not feel hurt when they don’t love me back the same way? I don’t know…is it even possible? Is this the way I have been hardwired, to love even if I'm not be loved in the same way by those, to whom, I have given my heart?
I don’t want to be hard hearted. And I don’t think God wants that for me either. After all, he made me like this and as the saying goes, ‘God don’t make no junk’.
Okay, I have decided that if I am to be like Jesus, I can’t be hard of heart. But at the same time, I don’t want to keep getting hurt like this. Hmmm…maybe it just goes with the territory. Just wipe the tears away, forgive and continue the love. Maybe that is why it is called unconditional.
This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. – 1 John 4:9-11
It sounds pretty reasonable when you say it like that, doesn’t it? Still hurts to be ignored though. This is me, wiping the tears away, standing again, forgiving and continuing the love…because after all…unconditional love isn’t for wimps.
Its two years today since my mother passed away. I remember some of the details clearly while others were a blur.
Hubby and I were on Rottnest Island on holiday. Rottnest is just about as far away as we could get from home whilst still being in the same country. We were on the Island wandering around and it was really windy.
There wasn’t a mobile phone tower but when the wind was right I was able to get just enough phone reception. My phone rang and it was a voice mail from my sister. Mum had had a major stroke and we really should come home immediately.
We managed to get flights changed but it took a few days to get home and I immediately went to the hospital. Mum, had lost most of her eyesight, was paralysed down the right side of her body and was unable to swallow or speak. Mum had been deaf since she was in her early 20’s and was able to lip read. Because of this stroke, she had lost her last means of communication and was virtually shut off from the world.
She tried to be brave, smiling for the doctors or visitors but when they were gone, my mother visibly deflated. Everyone including Mum knew that she wouldn’t recover and slowly over the next ten days, she started slipping away bit by bit.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t go in and see her each day and so, every morning while everyone was asleep I would get up, shower, dress and drive into the hospital and each night I would come home, grab a bit to eat and go to bed with the phone next to my bed. No one knew when the end would come but we all expected it at any time.
One day I was in the hospital cafeteria. I went to grab a cup of tea before going back to her hospital room. I happened to run into a man whom I will call WS. I knew WS as he sometimes came into the office where I worked. He was visiting a friend at the hospital and asked me why I was there. When I told WS about Mum, he said that when someone is dying, Jesus will meet them and a peace will come over them. I thought he was just trying to comfort me and thought no more about at the time. The next day I was in Mums room and for some reason I walked closer to her and I could see clearly peace on her face. The lips that had been pulled down by the stroke were now graced by a small smile, her face seemed to be glowing and she looked like she was peacefully sleeping. I thought about the words WS had said and I felt comforted. Then unexpectedly a song came to mind. I knew this song because I am a fan of old movie musicals but I couldn’t remember all the words.
I came home from the hospital and Googled the song on Youtube. It was almost as if it had been written about my mother and I knew at that time it was from God.
This is the song
It was a two days later that I got the phone call I had been expecting. I had come home and was about to go to bed when my phone rang. Mum had just passed. Hubby and I went back to the hospital to say goodbye. The nurses were lovely, but then again they had been really supportive through this whole journey with Mum.
God sometimes comes in a storm and sometimes He comes in a quiet whisper. While Mum was dying, he came to me in a quiet whisper and if I ever need proof that He is real, then he gave it to me when I needed Him. And no one can take that away from me.
ACDC are touring Australia for the first time in nine years and we went to see them last week. Hubby and I flew down to Melbourne and took the time to have a few days away, just the two of us.
Hubby bought the tickets almost a year ago and at the time thought going to the mosh pit would be fun.
The night of the concert arrived and we went to the stadium along with thousands of other ACDC fans. There was a runway from the stage that ended about the middle of the floor area and we snagged a spot near the end of it. Behind me was a fence and a few thousand stood people between me and the stage. However, huge screens were around, so I knew we would see everything I needed to see.
A blow up doll was being tossed around like a beach ball and I was really hoping it hadn’t been used recently. The same went for the condom that was inflated and being batted around like a balloon. Now, I can understand someone might have condoms in their pockets in the hope of getting lucky later on in the night but who carries a blow up doll with them? Hubby thought it was hilarious but apparently I’m not bogan enough to appreciate it.
There were two acts before ACDC and the floor didn’t seem totally crowded but once ACADACA started any personal space I had acquired quickly disappeared. I tried to get a bit of space between me and those around me, but every time I moved back, they seemed to move closer in to me. I don’t like being touched at the best of times and I was feeling claustrophobic but there was nothing I could do as the fence stopped me moving any further away.
A few almost fights broke out around me and I was trying not to think about the fact I was trapped in the middle of the grounds if something went wrong.
In front of me there was a guy who was bopping on the spot...although bopping at an ACDC concert might not be the right thing to call it. Rather he was butt dancing and his butt was dancing on me. I couldn’t get away and every time his hand went to his back pocket, he brushed my stomach and to say I wasn’t impressed was an understatement. I was saved when a real fight broke out and the guys were rolling around on the floor punching each other. It was enough of a distraction for the crowd to part and the butt dancer to move away from me. Never before have I been so pleased to have people fight near me...lol
A few times the cameras found girls in the crowd who were either topless or were eager to flash their breasts. The men in the crowd cheered as each girl lifted her shirt but a huge cheer broke out for the girl who took her shirt off completely and was twirling it around in the air.
I knew most of the songs but only sang along to a couple of them. The concert was good but I think I was a bit too distracted by almost being crushed. I think I would have preferred it if I had a seat instead of standing on the floor.
Hubby enjoyed it though, and since he is the ACADACA fan, that is the main thing. Mind you, I am getting my own back when we go to see West Side Story on stage in Sydney later this year.
He called over his shoulder to me, "There's a rat in the shed and I want your cat to do something about it."
Poor Mr Mackie had no idea what was happening until we reached the shed. J stepped inside and started to pull one of the mowers out of the way. The cat, thinking he was about to start the noisy thing, proceeded to rip J's hand and arm to shreds, causing as much bloodshed as he could. The poor cat was obviously terrified and didn't know what was going on.
J decided that he needed to explain to Mr Mackie why he was needed so badly, "There's a rat and I want you to get rid of it"
At this stage, Mr Mackie's eyes were wide open, his razor sharp claws were slicing through the air and he was yowling in a desperate attempt to escape. J dropped the cat because, really, there was no point in hanging onto him any longer.
"Stupid cat. Why do we even keep you?" I bit my tongue and resisted the urge to remind him that cats may be intelligent animals but they don't really understand the English language.
"Are you sure there's a rat in there?" I asked.
"Of course. It was under the mower and when I moved the mower, it ran under the shelves" He replied
Half an hour later, I tried to coax Mr Mackie into the shed with an offer of food but he wasn't going anywhere near it. I don't really blame him because, I'm sure in his mind, there are big scary noisy grass and ginger cat eating machines living in the shed. I threw a small handful of cat kibble on the floor of the shed hoping Mr Mackie might go in there when none of us were around.
I put it all out of my mind and decided to do something more along the lines of housework/facebook/reading/ playing online scrabble sort of stuff. I heard the washing machine thud to a halt so I emptied the laundry into a basket and carried it out to the clothes line in our back yard. The line just happens to be right next to the shed and as I walked past, I glanced into the shed.
That's when I finally saw J's rat. It had been out eating the cat kibble which I had thrown in the shed earlier. This 'rat' was striped and hairless and looked remarkedly like a blue tongue lizard. In fact, it was a lizard and not a rat at all! Anywho, when it saw me, it scurried back under the shelves.
I finished putting the laundry on the clothes line and came in to tell J about his striped and hairless rat. He shook his head and said that it was definitely a rat and I must have been mistaken. Of course, he still thinks there is a rat in the shed but now he concedes that it could be a rat and possibly a blue tongue lizard hiding under the shelves.
Apologies to those who are rat lovers but honestly, if I had the choice between a rat and a lizard as a tenant in my shed, I would choose the lizard every time. I think the blueys are cute. I'll probably even feed him or her as they are great garden pets to have, as they like to eat snails, slugs, caterpillars and leftover cat kibble
I reach out to you, only wanting one touch,
Each time you shy away, rejecting my touch.
Just one brush of your finger will quench my desire,
Yet again you ignore my pleas for your touch.
What is it that is so abhorrent about me?
You act as if you were burnt by my touch?
Have I said or done something so bad,
That you don’t even acknowledge my touch?
After speaking words of love and forever,
You pretend to have never felt my touch.
Well fuck you for ignoring me and breaking my heart.
I might be wounded but I’m not that soft a touch.
I’ve decided its time for me to turn away and leave,
And never again will I let you close enough to touch.
The full list of awards and nominations can be found here but below are the awards that I was nominated in and won.
Nominatied & Winning Story
Closet Tales:Sebastian's Story
Best Short Story in a Writing Project
Nominated & Winning Story
A Little Ants Big Adventure.
Best Flash Fiction in a Writing Project
The Day You Won, I Lost
Closet Tales:Sebastian's Story
When I First Saw Zachary
Dust Bunny Thieves
Dust Bunny Thieves
Most Romantic Story
When I First Saw Zachary
Best Tanka or Haiku
Nominated & Winning poem
Best Ruba'i or Ghazal
Waiting for Daylight
Best Freesyle poem under 10 Lines
Nominated & Winning poem
As Good As It Gets
Waiting for Daylight
Most Romantic Poem
Nominated & Winning poem
Two Hearts in Cadence
Sunshine Award nomination
Member I'd Most Miss nomination
We flew into Brisbane and drove to Alexandra Heads where our accommodation was booked. The idea was that our apartment was going to be our base and we would travel around from there. We didn't plan do too much because I'm able to walk very far these days. We did a few drives but we spent a fair bit of time lazing around the pool or floating in the man made lagoon that was part of the apartment complex.
On one of our drives we found The Organic Cafe, a coffee shop which served loose leaf tea in small teapots and fine bone china teacups. The chairs & tables were totally unmatched and I should have taken a photograph of the place as it reminded my of my Nana. I felt right at home there immediately and maybe that was the owners plan or maybe they were trying for quirky in a city full of clean and orderly coffee shops.
Our table was an old wooden pallet on a rusty frame, which was sitting in a part of the grounds that was surrounded by nasturtiums, geraniums and a few agapanthus trying their hardest to bud in the heat. Next to our table was a black board covered in scrawl and on the pencil rest was a smallish piece of lime green chalk. Clearly the idea was for children to draw on the blackboard while their parents were relaxing.
There was no one else around, so I grabbed a paper napkin and rubbed off some of the chalk scrawl on the board and to my husbands abject horror, I wrote a poem and when I had finished,my hubby took one look at the board and honestly, he couldn't get out of the place fast enough. My poor long suffering husband couldn't have been more embarrassed but I just looked at him and said that I am a world renowned poet and the least he could do is to be proud of me. Okay, my tongue was planted firmly in my cheek when I said that, but really, I was just writing on a black board! It was such a fun thing to do and I haven't done anything like that since my children were young. For some odd reason, it is more socially accepted to draw and write on a blackboard when you have a three year old drawing on the board next to you.
Anywho, this is the poem I wrote with our signature. Hubby was even more horrified that I signed his name to it...lol Anywho, I am sure the owners would have been pleased that I thought enough to leave it for them...
And tea made with love
Surely The Organic Cafe
Is a gift from above.
B & J from NSW
Well, hubby is off work for a few more days. He has come down with a cold with turned into a middle ear infection and now is on antibiotics. It could be just bad luck or maybe divine punishment for not valuing my work. Hehehe. The doctor reckons he might have picked up an germ from one of the swimming pools...I think I prefer my version of events.
This poem has been published here with the kind permission of the happy couple.
J D and J P
Two Hearts in Cadence
14th November 2009
Beating as one
As they stand together
Vowing futures toward one another.
Beneath their feet
Shining down upon them
Silver adorning their hands
Of love and life eternal
Remembrances of strength without end.
Won and lost
Scars visible and unseen
Makes them who they are
Yet their love heals deep wounds
And will always bring them home.
For the last several years, Michael Jackson has been the butt of jokes. Now everyone is falling over themselves with tributes and saying how much they loved him. Smacks of a bit of hypocrisy, if you ask me. However, I doubt you will.
I don't know if it is too soon to say but in life Michael Jackson loved publicity. Now he is gone, he is getting more publicity than he has in years. I admit was a good musician and an absolute showman but I will shed no tears over his passing.
Written for Mad Kane' Limmerick-off "There once was a woman named June"
There once was a lady named June
who lived in a hippy commune
She ate plenty of greens
mixed with tofu and beans
and danced under a shining full moon.
Written for Mad Kane's Limerick-off "There was a man with no hair"
The once was a guy with no hair,
Who was filled with such deep despair.
He was known as a beau monde
with flowing tresses t'were blonde
until he mistakenly shampooed with Nair!