Anything is Possible!

With Hope, Faith, and Perseverance


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Thanks to God, Guardian Angels, and A Piece of Metal

Angel from Pixabay.jpg

Today’s good news is personal.

But first the bad news:  My new car got banged into with me in it. It might even be  totaled.

The Good news is nobody got seriously hurt.

Monday morning, my car was all packed, the gas tank was full, the oil had been changed and the tires rotated. Excited to be going to see my son and his family,  I kissed my husband and headed out to pick up my friend for our trip to the mountains.

At an intersection, the light turned green and I drove forward. I looked to my left just in time to see, as if in slow motion, a truck heading into my car, and felt the BANG into the driver’s side of my Hyundai Tuscon. My head hit the inside of the door, and I started cussing (something I rarely do out loud.)  I sat there, stunned, until the officer came over, and I managed to get the window down. He asked if I was okay, and I said, “I think so.”  He told me to go ahead and get out of the car. Shaking, I got my purse, climbed over the console, and got out the passenger side.

My retired EMT husband came quickly and did a personal assessment. He helped me get all my stuff out of my poor Tuscon before it got towed away. We put all my stuff in my friend’s car and headed for the mountains a couple hours later than planned.

So, big THANK YOU to God and my guardian angels for keeping me safe. And thanks to my Hyundai Tuscon, for bearing the brunt of the hit. I don’t know if the car will make it or not. I’ll grieve a little if it doesn’t. My husband says, “It’s just a piece of metal,” and the important thing is that I’m okay.  And he’s right, but  I was just getting to know that piece of metal, my first ever new car I never thought I’d have. Does anyone have feelings for their car?

But the important thing is that nobody got seriously hurt. I’m okay except for a bruise on my head, and I think I’m more tired than a I realize as I type this Monday night.

I probably won’t post again until Saturday, but I’ll try to check in when I can. Today, I get to spend some time with my son and granddaughter in the mountains.

Life is precious, every day.

 

Sunflower w address

 


30 Comments

#WATWB: The Love of a Brother

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12 year-old Noah Aldrich has finished 15 triathlons pulling or pushing his brother Lucas. Lucas has a rare neurological condition that makes him unable to walk or talk, but he has a strong brother who loves him dearly.  I was moved by the Noah’s humility and perseverance shown in this video.

 

This story is offered as part of the We Are the World Blogfest which seeks to share and promote positive news stories. For more information, visit;

http://www.damyantiwrites.com/we-are-the-world-blogfest/

and check out the Facebook Page.

 

In darkness, be light.

GUIDELINES for WATWB:

  1. Keep your post to below 500 words, as much as possible.
  2. All we ask is you link to a human news story on your blog on the last Friday of each month, one that shows love, humanity, and brotherhood. Something like this news  about a man who only fosters terminally ill children.
  3. Join us on the last Friday of each month in sharing news that warms the cockles of our heart. No story is too big or small, as long as it goes beyond religion and politics, into the core of humanity.
  4. Place the WE ARE THE WORLD Badge on your sidebar, and help us spread the word on social media. Tweets, Facebook shares, G+ shares using the #WATWB hashtag through the month most welcome. More Blogfest signups mean more friends, love and light for all of us.
  5. We’ll read and comment on each others’ posts, get to know each other better, and hopefully, make or renew some friendships with everyone who signs on as participants in the coming months.
  6. To signup, add your link in WE ARE THE WORLD Linky List


33 Comments

Finally Understanding My Mother

Mom JoAne Mary Kaye 1967 (2)

1967

Like another lifetime

Yet the same lives,

My dad, your husband,

Is off fighting the war

In Vietnam.

Your thoughts are with him,

Wondering, is he safe?

Is he hungry?

Will he make it home?

Not wanting to think about it,

Not wanting to watch the news,

But worrying nonetheless.

My little sister wonders too

Though it looks like she’s playing

Making lines in the dirt

Like a meditation.

I stand quietly.

Thinking. Pondering.

Wondering how to help.

Maybe just standing by your side.

Is enough.

 

Now, I understand

How strong you really were.

 

This photo is one of the treasures I’ve found as I go through the things that belonged to my parents, Betty and Jim. It was taken in 1967 when my father was in Vietnam and we were visiting relatives in Connecticut. Whoever took it had a good eye for capturing the moment. It’s very different from most of the photos I find where my mother is older, posing with a smile or volunteering at church or the soup kitchen with Dad.

When I was growing up, my mother suffered from depression that caused her to be hospitalized more than once. The last nervous breakdowns came when Dad was in Vietnam. For many years I thought of my mother as weak. She was always kind, but a little fuzzy in the brain. I wanted her to be strong.

Now, I get the fuzzy brain too, like: “why did I come into this room?” Now, when I look at this photo, I feel compassion.

After Mom died in 2008, I asked my dad what helped him get through the horrors that haunted him from Vietnam – things he didn’t want to talk about because they gave him nightmares.

“It was your mother’s love,” he told me.

I always knew they loved each other very much. But I had not known this:

My mother’s love was strong enough to save the strongest man I’ve ever known.

Yesterday, I wished my mom a happy birthday.  I’m glad she and Dad are together again. Strong in faith. Strong in love.

 


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A Tale of Five Tails

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Once upon a time, in a little urban cottage, lived a peri-menopausal woman and her adolescent daughter. The daughter liked to wear black. Her mother liked to wear green, blue, and brown, the colors of the earth. They were both somewhat lonely, though not horribly so, because they had each other and the two tails. (We’ll come back to the tails in a moment.) You see, the woman’s prince charming had turned back to a frog after twenty years of marriage and left to be with a younger woman. (That’s all I’m going to say about that, lest I seem bitter.)

The two tails were attached to two dogs. One was a big golden boy with the heart of a lion. His tail looked like a plume and would often catch things like leaves, twigs, and Christmas tree ornaments. The other was a mongrel of medium size whose tail was brown and long with a white tip at the end. The woman and her daughter both loved the dogs and their tails that wagged easily when the humans came home from a hard day at the office and the classroom.

The woman met other princes who were not princes at all. One was a creepy old toad who briefly appeared confident and smart, but alas, he had way too many demons running around in his head and would not even try to slay them. The other was better, with  a big smile. He seemed like the court jester at first, but sometimes he could be, shall we say, contrary. Too contrary. And he was not a good fit.

The woman decided that maybe she was better off with just the two dogs with their plumey and tippy tails. They were not much trouble and better company than the men who had courted her. But she sometimes still wished for a partner, a knight in shining armor who would not turn out to be a frog. Someone who would be a good fit. At the top of her list was that he MUST LOVE DOGS. 

Well, right around the time her daughter graduated from high school, she got a message  from her old flame, from long, long ago and far, far away. He found her again when the time was perfect. The old flame, as it turned out, loved dogs! He had three dogs each with their own special tail. One was shy and neurotic and shook every time it thundered. His tail was black and shaggy with white on the end. One was a tall hound, obsessed with food. Her tail did not wag much because she had been traumatized at an early age, before the man rescued her. But later, she became a happy tail-wagging hound, especially at dinner time. The other dog was “Beep the Horrible.” She loved the man so much, she would tear things up when he left. She did not want to share him at first. Her tail was short but could wag fiercely.

When the old flame and his dogs came to live with the woman, after an appropriate and romantic courtship, the dogs did not all get along well. But walking together as a pack and vigilance at mealtimes, eventually brought the blended family together. “Beep the Horrible” fell in love with the adolescent daughter. The woman and her old flame, who really was her knight in shining armor, got married and lived happily ever in the little urban cottage with their five dogs with wagging tails.

jesse howling

My Golden Boy, Jesse and Mary Moo

oreo (2)

Oreo the Vibrating Dog

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Doodle the crazy coon hound

Beep

Beep the Horrible

If you’d like to read the full-length version of this story, buy my book! Or enter to win a free Kindle e-book in Goodreads Giveaways Feb. 12 – Feb. 20. Stay tuned for details!

Today’s prompt for the Saturday’s Stream of Consciousness was to tail/tale. For more tales of the Stream of Consciousness kind, visit Linda’s blog at:

https://lindaghill.com/2018/02/09/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-feb-10-18/

Here are the rules:

1. Your post must be stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing, (typos can be fixed) and minimal planning on what you’re going to write.

2. Your post can be as long or as short as you want it to be. One sentence – one thousand words. Fact, fiction, poetry – it doesn’t matter. Just let the words carry you along until you’re ready to stop.

3. There will be a prompt every week. I will post the prompt here on my blog on Friday, along with a reminder for you to join in. The prompt will be one random thing, but it will not be a subject. For instance, I will not say “Write about dogs”; the prompt will be more like, “Make your first sentence a question,” “Begin with the word ‘The’,” or simply a single word to get your started.

4. Ping back! It’s important, so that I and other people can come and read your post! For example, in your post you can write “This post is part of SoCS:” and then copy and paste the URL found in your address bar at the top of this post into yours. Your link will show up in my comments for everyone to see. The most recent pingbacks will be found at the top. NOTE: Pingbacks only work from WordPress sites. If you’re self-hosted or are participating from another host, such as Blogger, please leave a link to your post in the comments below.

5. Read at least one other person’s blog who has linked back their post. Even better, read everyone’s! If you’re the first person to link back, you can check back later, or go to the previous week, by following my category, “Stream of Consciousness Saturday,” which you’ll find right below the “Like” button on my post.

6. Copy and paste the rules (if you’d like to) in your post. The more people who join in, the more new bloggers you’ll meet and the bigger your community will get!

7. As a suggestion, tag your post “SoCS” and/or “#SoCS” for more exposure and more views.

8. Have fun!


31 Comments

Motherly Love

(During the month of February, I plan to write about different kinds of love.

Thanks for reading. I look forward to your thoughts.)

 

JoAnne and Ayla baby at the beach (2)

1993

What a surprise to feel that pull on my heart,

Maternal instincts beyond my control.

Men can have those feelings, too.

But my heart, soul, and body,

Were in it for the long haul.

The intoxicating smell

 of soft downy heads

Embedded a bond

Stronger than

Smelly diapers,

Projectile vomiting,

Toddler tantrums,

And adolescent dramas

When I wondered who took my son

And twisted his devotion into gnarly knots?

Who hitched my girl to a marathon ride

On that emotional roller coaster

Without my permission?

Yet they both survived

the bullies and angst

To grow stronger,

To fly solo.

I open my hands

To. Let. Them. Go.

But my heart strings

Stretch across the miles

Through darkness and light,

Because a mother’s love never ends.

 

 

 


11 Comments

Hopi Elder Speaks

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I’ve been holding on to this message from the Hopi elder, waiting for the right time.

This feels like a good time.

“You have been telling the people that this is the Eleventh Hour, now you must go back and tell the people that this is the Hour.  And there are things to be considered . . .

Where are you living?
What are you doing?
What are your relationships?
Are you in right relation?
Where is your water?
Know your garden.
It is time to speak your Truth.
Create your community.
Be good to each other.
And do not look outside yourself for the leader.”

Then he clasped his hands together, smiled, and said, “This could be a good time!”

“There is a river flowing now very fast.  It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid.  They will try to hold on to the shore.   They will feel they are torn apart and will suffer greatly.

“Know the river has its destination.  The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above water.   And I say, see who is in there with you and celebrate.  At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally, Least of all ourselves.  For the moment that we do,  our spiritual growth and journey comes to a halt.

“The time for the lone wolf is over.  Gather yourselves!  Banish the word struggle from you attitude and your vocabulary.  All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.

“We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.”

— attributed to an unnamed Hopi elder

Hopi Nation, Oraibi, Arizona

The river is moving fast for me this week. I’m getting ready for a trip to see my grandchildren, heading into a bit of weather maybe, so prayers are welcome.  I’ll be driving to the NC mountains to pick up my son, then it’s on to Indianapolis. My son will be doing most of the driving. He reminded me he has ten years of experience driving in snow.

Angels, make our way clear and safe.

Sometimes, I’d rather be the lone wolf, staying close to home. But when I look around and see who is with me on this journey,  I see magic and meaning.  A decade ago, when my son was in his early twenties, he was physically and emotionally distant. For one year, he barely talked to me. Now, we enjoy each other’s company. I look forward to our time together.

Love still flourishes. Love carries the best kind of courage.

I feel a pull that I sometimes resist, but I’m going with it now, to the middle of the river where the water runs deep.  I remember that I’m a good swimmer and at home in the water.  It’s time to celebrate like a breaching whale, to keep my eyes open, my head above water, and let my heart go with the flow.

New River via VA State Parks

All waters – rivers, oceans, rain, and snow – have much in common. Just as we are more alike than different. It is time for each of us to find our sacred way and to see that our rivers connect.

Everyone belongs.


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Holiday Whirlwind

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I’m back in the world of WordPress and playing catch up! At first, I felt a twinge of guilt, a void with my absence here. But that didn’t last long. I’ve been bizzeeee!

After spending five days with my energetic, high spirited, six year old granddaughter, I’m still processing the whirlwind.  She stayed in the room I’ve been fixing up for her for two years (the room that has doubled as my art studio) with plum colored walls, yellow curtains, butterflies, and angels. Earlier this year, due to complicated family matters, I didn’t know if I would ever see her again. So her being able to stay with me was an answer to many prayers.

We had some wonderful times, playing hide and seek in the back yard, making cookies, singing Christmas carols (“Frosty the Snowman” at least 20 times), reading books, and playing make believe as kitty cats, pirates, and characters from the movies, Frozen and Moana. Church went well on Sunday, and later, I got to answer (or attempt to answer) lots of questions about God: Does God live in the sky? How big is God? Does God have parents? Did God make everything? Does God know everything?  How does God know everything? Does God know we are talking right now?

I received an abundance of opportunities to practice setting boundaries, standing my ground, and going with the flow, with many deep breaths and an abundance of hugs. I am extremely thankful for my husband’s support and for help from my daughter (Aunt Ayla) during this whirlwind holiday.

If necessary, I and my support team would be fully capable of taking care of my granddaughter until she is grown. But after five days, I  was happy to return her to the loving care of her father and his partner. There’s a certain wisdom to menopause. God and Mother Nature have been kind to women in not allowing us to have children after a certain age.

There’s always something to be thankful for.

I hope you’ve all been enjoying warm and happy holiday moments and wish you many blessings!