Friday, October 27, 2017

A Collaboration: His Photo, My Muse

A friend of mine, Don Case, emailed me a photo he took yesterday morning and asked me to write something to go with it.  So, I pondered the photo for a while early this morning. This is our collaboration:

The Colors of Life

life sure is colorful
Sometimes, our journey path is straight, with the end in sight
other times, the road is full of twists and turns which keeps us wondering, "Are we there yet?"
Sometimes, all we experience is ugliness
other times, all the beauty this life has to offer

the colorfulness of life is like the changing seasons
Stark white to foreboding darkness and all the in-between hues of oranges, reds, and yellows
what does your path look like at this moment?
Straight?  winding?  Dark?  bright?
it doesn't matter because colorful beauty is all around us whatever our path

for, truly, beauty is in the eye of the beholder

Thank you, Don, for the invitation to collaborate. Your photo, my muse.  I loved doing this!  I sure hope you are pleased with the outcome.

And I hope all who read are blessed.

Because of Him and Unto Him,

Tuesday, October 24, 2017

Those Darn Memories!

I'm feeling guilty.
I feel like I've been cruel to my dog.

Years ago, my oldest son, Michael, moved back home from Georgia and helped Joe start his business, Renewal by Andersen of Long Island.  Michael had a dog named Rockit.  So, she moved in with us too.  Michael would call Joe and I, "Grandma and Grandpa" when he spoke to Rockit.  So, we naturally picked up the same thing when speaking to either Rockit or Kodak.

Since the night God began revealing Joe's secret life and Joe just abandoned our family - almost 5 years ago - I never used the names "Grandma" or "Grandpa" again when speaking to Kodak.

I'm watching a movie tonight and a commercial came on.  For some reason, the words came out of my mouth to Kodak, "Where's Grandpa?"  Even I was surprised by them.

Kodak started looking around and then backed away from me and ran to the living room windows.  His head was moving back and forth as if trying to find him.  I burst into tears.  I kept calling him, but there he stood for about a half a minute until he finally just laid down in front of the window.

How do you erase 45 years of memories?  I met Joe when I was 19, the first winter after HS graduation.  Joe would always say, "We were kids."  Oh, we sure were! 

You don't erase memories but, you do stuff them.  Then suddenly, out of nowhere, there they are - invading your moment.  Without thinking, the words erupted from my mouth and when I saw Kodak's reaction, the tears streamed down my face.

Those darn, bless-ed memories.  They are mine.  For always.  And obviously, they are Kodak's, too.

"Grandpa" and Kodak at Grandpa's favorite place, Mattebella Vineyard, in Southold

Because of Him and Unto Him,