Saturday, February 18, 2012

I AM THE WEAKEST LINK…

 

If you read many blogs, you know that periodically,there will be a wave of award giving among bloggers. I think it is a sweet way to acknowledge other bloggers, as well as introduce them to new bloggers. I received all of the following awards either here or when blogging on MySpace:

I felt all warm and fuzzy when I received each one of the awards. The only downside is that it comes with rules to tell some things about oneself, and then name new bloggers who will receive the award from you. Unfortunately for the rest of you, I am the weakest link…  

1. I get stumped when trying to list 5 to 10 “interesting” things about me that nobody already knows. I’m such an open book that my friends already know all there is to know about me and people I don’t know just don’t need to know…

2. I try to think of some new and clever things to say, but my muse simply will not cooperate. Although I may have occasional “clever” moments, I cannot make them happen. When they happen, they just happen. It’s no more than a brain fart…

3. My mind is best described as a whirlwind. The thinking just never stops. Like bad weather, one whirlwind will set off another whirlwind and then, before I know it, the original thought is lost while my muse pursues another line of thought. FYI – I’ve had some great ideas for short stories and blogs, but they also get lost in the whirlwind. I should make notes, but a whirlwind can move my mind in another direction while I’m reaching for pen and paper. I must be quick to capture thoughts before they get away! LOL

4. Lest I leave the impression that I am “dizzy”, I just want to share that I worked for the State of Florida for 36 years. I held some really complicated jobs. At least twice, after receiving promotions, I learned that those who landed in my old position could not handle the demands of the position; therefore, the duties had to be distributed over more employees. The same thing happened after I retired – or so I’m told. My mind was a clear asset during my career years. In fact, that is probably where my mind learned to whirl and twirl and dance around. It is not a disability. It is a gift.

5. Nonetheless, if my muse is not cooperating, a blog with intent to …

a. Acknowledge/thank the giver for the award

b. List “getting to know you” type of facts

c. Naming new bloggers for the award

d. Posting the new blog

just never gets done….. That is all…

6. So…I break the chain. I do the same with chain email and most other chain type activities. On the social sites that I have been known to haunt, I do not repost photos of sick or missing children because some of those children are teens or young adults now…or a hoax. I’m pretty sure some big name company did not give a dollar for surgery for every time a child’s photo was reposted. I do not forward every “cute” email because I’m pretty sure that everybody else has seen that same mail more than once, as I have too. I am not “ashamed” to not pass on the religious emails, nor do I believe that the Lord is “ashamed” of me. I detest mudslinging political messages. I have been blunt enough that most people know better than to send that junk to me and the ones who still do are only trying to get a reaction out of me. I give them none because it is clearly a waste of time. People who are going to hate are simply going to hate. I can’t change that. But I can do my part by not spreading the malicious propaganda. Nope, I don’t jump on that bandwagon… And you know all those petitions for this and that? I figure that the person who sent it to me and 49 other people will just have to rely on those other 49 people to keep it going. Yup…I’m the weakest link.

If I leave the impression that I am thoughtless and rude, well then…that is the impression I leave. I have often said that there is a party in my head and I like it there. This is a true statement. It is wonderfully fun in my head, so if something is not fun for me, I just jump right over it with little or no conscience. If that offends, just sue me….

So….all that said… I thank whoever bequeathed awards to me. I would thank you each by name, but I honestly forgot who all have given awards, so rather than name a few and miss a few, I choose to simply thank you all. You know who you are. I hope I thanked each of you on your blog. If I didn’t, well then I just didn’t see it…which is another of my character flaws, but that is a whole ‘nother blog…

I miss MySpace. It was so easy to drop an award on someone without conditions. The unexpected award said… “I like and appreciate you and/or your blog.” It was a delightful surprise to find an award in the blog comments.  The award didn’t come with conditions… I miss that.

Since it is apparent that I break all the rules, I think I will make my own award and new rules. Here’s the award:

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And here are MY rules:

1. If you like awards, please take this award if I have ever left a comment on one of your blogs that made you feel all warm and fuzzy. Or if you even think I did and it must have been deleted by the internet gremlins… DO take it and display it proudly.  I’m sure I would have given it to you anyway.

2. You DO NOT have to share a single thing about yourself unless you want to.

3. I suggest NOTHING that should leave one with the impression that a reciprocal action is expected.

4. I name NO ONE but I do want to share some links to some great bloggers who I have found outside of my usual blogging circles. I enjoy these blogs. I may or may not have made my presence known to the blogger. I simply enjoy them… I hope you will too.

http://wheresthefunnyhere.blogspot.com/

http://screweduptexan.com/

http://studiohourglass.blogspot.com/

http://serviceunavailableerror503.blogspot.com/

http://madgemadigan.blogspot.com/

5. If you like finding new bloggers, I hope you will share some links too.

Don’t be the weakest link!  That is my title….

Friday, February 17, 2012

Enduring Love

 

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My Dearest Darling,

When you showed up at my door for our first date, little did I know that my future was standing there holding one perfect red rose. As you stood there looking sheepish, you said “Roses are Red, my Love”. My heart swelled and I was yours ~ right then and there.

Since that first date, you have made me happy beyond my greatest expectations. Though there were many happy days, one of the happiest days of my life was the day you said “come grow old with me”. I have always treasured your marriage proposal in the deepest part of my heart. Since that day, we did indeed grow old together.

As happy and giddy with love as I was the day we married, I thought I could not possibly love you more. But, I never dreamed the depths our love would reach. My heart was so swelled with love that I could not know then that it was only just infected.

As time went on, I discovered that first love is not really a sustaining love because as real life set in and trials came, that first love wasn’t enough…but our marriage commitment was enough. Our wedding vows were the glue that held us together while we adjusted to life as husband and wife. Yes, I know you know, so this will come as no surprise that I wanted to give up more than once just to go back to that uncomplicated life before marriage…as if that was possible. Well, we had our ups and downs throughout our life together, but it was just exactly those ups and downs that added strength to the glue of our commitment to each other. We grew strong and then we grew old together.

I remember the day we were at our doctor’s office and our doctor called us “the couple who love each other”. I wondered just exactly what the doctor saw to draw that conclusion. Possibly it was because we always made our appointments together in our later years so that two pairs of old ears could listen carefully to what the doctor had to say. Or maybe he detected the fear in my eyes upon hearing your diagnosis, the subsequent surgeries and follow-ups. Maybe it was because of the day that I sat in his office and sobbed for an hour with the agonies that run hand in hand ~ fear of loss and depression. Whatever our doctor saw in us that said “love” made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. I liked it.

While that first love was wonderful, my love for you now is like a gentle fire that has been banked for a long, cold night. It is always there, glowing warmly in the background while we lived our day to day lives. When I first loved you, I didn’t think I could possibly love you more, but time and life have proven me wrong. We had a wonderful life together in spite of the ups and downs. Thank you for the love, the caring and the sharing. It’s been good.

I just want you to know how much I love you and how much I have loved being your wife. No other role in my life made me feel so content. I love you dearly. I will always love you. Always…

Love Eternally,

Wifey

p.s. Did I ever tell you how much I loved being called “Wifey”?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I watched Grandma lean over Grandpa as she brushed his snowy white hair away from his forehead to plant a kiss. I heard her whisper “I will always love you” as she gently lifted the lapel of Grandpa’s jacket to place her letter next to his heart.

I do not know exactly what Grandma wrote in that letter, but I do know that it must be a love letter for Grandpa so that it would be with him throughout eternity. They loved each other so much.

Supporting Grandma’s slight body, we slowly walked out of the chapel. All I can think is that I can only hope to have such a love someday. I really must ask Grandma how they achieve that kind of love… I hope to have a marriage just like my grandparents.

 

Darlene Cirinna

February 16, 2012

Sunday, February 5, 2012

ACCIDENTS? ~ BLOG HOP #33

 

 

Often times, I think we call certain situations an “accident” when there would have been no “accident” had we not been acting willfully. Also, I am a believer of fate… Que Sera Sera, if you will.

I am sharing some incidents of my childhood that were classified an accident. But were they?

I would say that I remember these accidents like it was yesterday, but the fact is that I can remember something that happened 50 years ago better than I can remember yesterday… However, I am digressing early, so I will get to the story of “accidents” in my childhood.

It was common in my family for other family members to “make themselves at home” as they all put it. Meaning…you can do anything in most of my relative’s homes that you would do in your own home ~ especially if it was Gram’s house. I remember a time when Dad helped himself to some tuna and crackers, since Gram had already opened a can of tuna and then stored in a plastic container in the fridge. When Gram went looking for the cat food, we learned that Dad ate it all… Dad said it was good and tasted like tuna ~ the rest of us gagged…

Since I was accustomed to getting into Gram’s fridge, I once did it at my other Grandma’s house. I was not her favorite grandchild, but this one time, she didn’t say a thing as I helped myself to the last piece of cherry pie. Well, it was rubbery from being in the fridge and not the best tasting pie, but ~ Hey ~ I was hungry. A couple of hours later, I was puking my insides out…

I was about 9 years old when my cousin tried to teach me how to use the brakes on a bicycle. I just didn’t “get it”. Finally, in frustration, he pointed me downhill and gave me a shove. His parting words to me were these… “Now you have to use the brakes or you will hit the barn door.” And, indeed I did…hit the barn door. My Aunt had to take me to see a doctor about my very noticeably swollen left booby. Upon puberty, it was apparent that I would go through life with one booby slightly smaller than the other. I blame my cousin…

I like to think that I learn from my “accidents”, but that is not always the case. When I was about 4, my grandfather went into the cellar by way of the stone steps down from the outside. My Mom told me to stay off the steps because there was some broken glass from a canning jar accident that she needed to pick up. Being the willful child that I most certainly was, I began running up and down the steps. I tripped, fell and cut my finger. It was an interesting cut that created a flap of skin in a V shape. I bear the scar to this day, but I never stopped running on steps until my 60’s. But, I would if I could… Some things I never learned…

When my Mom & Dad got married, Mom wanted a baby right away. I was conceived 2 months after their marriage. I was no accident. My Mom called my 2 sisters “accidents”. Well, Mom may have thought so, but I believe in “what will be will be”. I can’t imagine life without my sisters, nor do I want to. My sisters are no accidents and I wish my Mom had never told them that. Words hurt… And so unnecessary… IMHO…

Were any of these instances really an “accident”? Maybe we should be more careful with what we label an accident?

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Saturday, February 4, 2012

BFF 164 ~ NEGATIVITY

 

 

Annie’s sunny disposition was once again overshadowed by Ernie ~ the eternal pessimist. Some days Annie wondered just exactly what she found so attractive about Ernie lo those many years ago. She also wondered how she overlooked the moods and the seemingly endless nitpicking. But, looking back, she knows why. They were simply and wonderfully “in heat” back then. Finally, she wonders why she put up with him all these years. Surely, God will reward her when she gets to heaven, she thinks.

The day started same as usual. Ernie complained that his coffee was not strong enough and his toast dry. He then moved on to the weather, which was 30% chance of rain. Ernie waxed his truck the day before, so he was completely sure that we would get rain because, after all, it ALWAYS rains after he details his truck. Annie sighed as she recognized that it was to be one of those days… “Please God”, she silently pleaded, “Please, please, PLEASE give me some relief from the constant negativity.”

While Annie got busy around the house, Ernie turned to the TV. Annie whispered “Thank you, God” as the tension eased out of her body. Of course, there will be the occasional explicative exploding into the air once he settles in his ratty old recliner to catch up on the politics of the day. But, Annie can ignore all of that. It is when she is expected to be his audience with undivided attention that she hates the most. Yes, the TV will be his audience until meal time rolls around again, leaving Annie to putter around the house in peace.

Annie was drying the last plate from breakfast when she heard a thud sound come from the living room. Hurrying in, she finds Ernie on the floor, his face a grimace like she never saw before. Without a moment’s hesitation, she reached for the phone to punch 911. The paramedics from the nearby firehouse were the first to arrive. They quickly attended to Ernie while, at the same time, assuring Annie that Ernie will be alright. She wonders if they know that for a fact or are they just telling her what they think she wants to hear.

Annie heard from childhood that when a person dies, that their life flashes before them right before they die. She always wondered how that worked. Annie had 2 near death experiences in her life, but there was no slideshow. She assumed that experience would only happen were she to really die. As always, her wandering, wondering thoughts lead to the question about how anybody knows this happens at the moment of death because, after all, who can speak after death to tell it...

Annie is jerked out of her thoughts when Ernie began to convulse. It was that exact moment that her life with Ernie began to flash through her own mind. In an instant, she saw the “slideshow” of their life together…the moment they first met, the electric in the air as interest sparked between them, the love and laughter of their courtship and the happiness of their wedding day. Scenes continued to flash through Annie’s memory of the many trials, tribulations, joys and sorrows of a shared lifetime. Annie saw more good than bad. She saw a wonderful man who was true to their marriage; a hardworking man who never slacked in providing for them. Annie remembered the moment Ernie first held each daughter and how tenderly he held them after birth while expounding on the beauty of each red, wrinkled infant. In her mind’s eye, Annie saw the love and attention Ernie gave to their children, nurturing always.  The laughter of their children, and then the grandchildren echoes in her mind.

Accused by her own spirit, Annie is suddenly ashamed as she realizes that she herself had entertained negative thoughts about Ernie’s “negativity”. Did she not have some of her own? Again, she pleaded with God…”Please, please, PLEASE God…please don’t take my husband from me yet. I need more time to love him…”

 

Darlene Cirinna

February 4, 2012