Head, Heart and Uterus

        I have so much to write about and its all scattered in my brain. I guess you can say, there will be no connect the dots, because there is a hurricane brewing in my head, heart and uterus.
        First on this last day of February, I will be voting tomorrow for Hillary Clinton. PERIOD! I need not defend my choice, and say horrible things about yours. To me she is over ready for this position, with decades of experience, and I trust her, as much as I trust any politician. The republican party is in a toxic heap of circus acts, and I feel very sorry for this party. I don't support the Republican Party, but that does mean that I want it to fail. End of my story, because I cannot fathom any human that could be leaning towards Trump or Cruz. However that is why we have the choice to vote, and I hope that you all vote, using your head, heart and if you have a uterus, that too!!

      The month of February has seen me in pain, and at the Physical Therapist for the entire month. She is still slowly killing me. I have been blessed with Homer's sense of humor and bad hips. The young, petite PA, has tried to put my right leg in positions that I have never done, ever! I tired to explain to her, that most people cannot put their legs over their heads, nor do squats holding a ball, walking backwards!!! She smiles and says, " I will do them with you!" I smile and say, " What else can we do angel?" She has poked and kneaded my muscles until I had to call Jesus! Spasms running up and down, with ice packs to help. I offered her some little advice, that people in my generation take meds first then we let you poke!! She is a Florida girl, so I have been sweet tea kind to her, but......its an ongoing battle.....I go tomorrow......say a pray

    Enjoyed seeing my forever friend, Susan Houser. She stays with us sometimes, when she hops through Atlanta. We talk and laugh like 16 year old girls.We share a history, our history, and we revisit every nook and crannie. When we are talked out, we pause, and start over.

    I read a couple of good books in February, while plopped on a heating pad.
    1. Between The World And Me by Ta-Nehist Coates, a must must read for all people.
    2. My Name is Lucy Barton by Elizabeth Strout, enjoyed it
    3. Living In The Aftermath of Tragedy by Sue Kleibold difficult, but I think people should read it.
    4. Reading now, The Japanese Lover by Isabel Allende, so far its beautiful
These are a few, that you may want to pick up. Reading, what a wonderful addiction to have.

   My favorite quote I heard or read somewhere, was Parade Worthy!!!! May your March be Parade Worthy, that is just the best saying ever!!! So let me close, the sun is out, and its calling my name.
    Remember you cannot fix crazy, but you can sure dress up for the Parade!!
    Use your Head, Heart and whatever else you need to use, to make good choices. Love yourself, pay attention and show up!!! ready
      Parade Worthy Month, that is our March plan D, because A,B, and C are iffy!!!
     

No One Gets Tired Of Loving

         The month of love is among us, and today I reflect on how easy and hard, it is to love.
To be passionately devoted or overly attached, infatuated or sick with yearning. Love is complicated, and should not cause fatigue?! But it does, love can drain the very cells out of your body, and at the same time evoke such tenderness. It really is a remarkable emotion, for the physical heart.
       I count myself to be in the category of lucky in love.
       I love so much and it comes easy, ( not spread your legs easy!) more like easy on a Sunday morning.
To adore, dote on, be fascinated by, treasure, be fond of, nuts about, delight in so many things, puts the juice in JOY!
     After the profound loss of a child, loving becomes much harder, yet somewhat simpler.
     Standing at the side of a grave of a lifelong friend, you feel the love to the core of your center.
     I do know death does not stop, when people die.
Music thrills by being, and reading is my constant companion. Husband love is such an intimate experience, to grow old with someone, with all our flaws on the table, is cherished daily. Children love, there are no words, trust me, I have looked. I am a stepmother, a birth mother and an adoptive mother, three very different kinds of love, tied together with my heart strings. I would save you from any pain, if I could, but don't test me!!! I love being a parent. I also prize being an 'Uma', with two grandsons. Now that is another kind of love, ( there are so many) it is constant, yet there is distance. Very neat to be a grandparent. My parents are here on earth with me, and remind me that getting older can be difficult, and we have to love each other through all ages of crazy!! What a powerful thing, this love of friends is, adore, admire, appreciate, the three 'As'.
    Self love is the most important, honor yourself, your special, beautiful self, and love shines.
    We are often so critical of our every move and thought! Yuck, put yourself on the Love Train, and dance!
 People occasionally ask, " Who would you take to a deserted island?" Well, that is easy, ME! who knows you better, and I hope you love yourself first, and would want to be on an island with all of yourself. Of course I would want good farm to table food, precious art, Pandora, and all my loves with me, but first on the island is me!
      Be warm, affectionate, loyal, thoughtful to you first, then you can share the wealth of your being with this wonderful world. We touch people, by loving who we are. Broken and flawed, filled with love, grateful for being so loved, and on my knees sending it your way.
   
     

I Have Lost My Mittens, and I Do Not Care

     February is sitting here with me, all gray and dreary.
     Maybe a flake of snow will surprise us, and I have lost my mittens.( could be a metaphor for my mind, but we will go with mittens??!!)
     I believe my two pair of gloves are in the pocket of one down jacket. Last week, I was a snowbird, watching my babies enjoy? skis and slopes. ( Uma watched from afar, but I had to go outside to see this feat of Olympic hopefuls) I think I had to wear gloves, how do people put up with all these layers of clothes, and you are still cold? It baffles me.
     Now I sit in February, at home, and the weather people predict the high tomorrow is 32 degrees ! WHAT!! THE FOCK ( people in Ireland and Scotland say the F curse like this, I Love it!!) FOCK, FOCK, FOCK.!
    I will not put on that coat again, or hunt for my gloves, Its February, and the groundhog is my friend, Bloody Hell ( British peeps!)
    So I continue on my reading list from January. I think I would encourage you to read them all, but one has my heart.
Trails of Broken Wings by Sejal Badani

The Sound of Gravel by Ruth Wariner

The Things We Keep by Sally Hepworth

The Art of Hearing Heartbeats ( I cant read the authors name on my kindle, you can find it!)

And the one that has my heart is When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanith

Also read ;

Boys in the Trees by Carly Simon ( I loved, but you would have to love James Taylor and their story to desire to read this) ( It sort of broke my heart, and reminded me of living in that time of such change)

Cutting For Stone by Abraham Verghese ( I loved most of this, enough to offer it to you as, good)

Now for a few reasons I will read again When Breath Becomes Air.
         Highlights
miscommunication between people can so profoundly impact their lives

gathered experience is worn down by the details of living

We are never so wise as when we live in the moment

Surely intelligence wasn't enough; moral clarity was needed as well

"I don't know. What I do know-and I know you know these things, too-is that your life is about to change." ( on hearing that this person has cancer) ( me just trying to explain, why??I don't know??)
               (you are smart!! I know my people)

Humans are organisms, subject to physical laws

How much neurological suffering would you let your child endure before saying that death is preferable?

When there is no place for the scalpel, words are the surgeon's only tool

I had met her in a space where she was a person, instead of a problem to be solved

in taking up another's cross, one must sometimes get crushed by the weight

What kind of life exists without language

I work my whole life to get to this point, and then you give me cancer

joy, a joy unknown to me in all my prior years, a joy that does not hunger for more and more but rests, satisfied

This is a beautiful story of a young doctor and his journey through cancer. It does not have a happy ending, yet teaches us so much about living. It is very much a book for all people. His wife actually finished the book for him, for he lost his battle. To find joy in the middle of pain, and loss, is just so beautiful. I wish for no one to be tested so harshly, by any disease or loss. I am forever grateful, that those that are tested, write and leave behind their story, to aid all of us on our life journey.
       So on this day, may you find time to read, reflect  and rest satisfied. 
       I may never find my mittens, and that is OK