Tag Archives: memories

The Passage of Time.

 

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Today my breath is exposed

There’s a chill in my bones

I cuddle deep inside

Hiding from the winter air.

 

Soon flowers will rise

And life will spring forth

From their cold death

Sleeping no more

 

With bated breath

I await the warmth

Promised in the breeze

Of a summer’s morn

 

As days follow weeks

We fall once more again

To cherish the brightness

The colours awash and dying

 

Break not this yearly cycle

The beauty of each season

One by one they adorn the earth

And mark the passage of time

Seven Women on a Train

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Sounds like a joke doesn’t it? Well it was a good one! Allow me to set the stage. A friend and I were going to watch the Cirque du Soleil when it was in town. We were quite excited but it required a little bit of travel. We had to take a train from where we live to another town 30 minutes away. For those who are in the area we went from Oakville by Go Train to Toronto.

Now our Go Trains travel by rail around southern Ontario. They are vital to moving people to and from their work. I have used it occasionally and being in the wheelchair I am always concerned. But they are brilliant. I can fit on any car and they have a special platform where the train stops perfectly in line. A ramp is put out and I get on. There’s also a conductor in the car to deal with any issues I may have. Because I’m special! Ha ha ha! Anyone with special needs is given the care they require. Okay the stage is set.

The car we got onto was pretty full and people were asked to move so that I could sit comfortably. There was a baseball game in town so there were a lot of people. In the seat next to me and in two other seats across the aisle were five ladies. They were of varying ages but all were teachers. Some still working, some retired. A few times a year they would leave their husbands/partners/children and go on a trip together. This time it was Vegas!

I have never been to Vegas but enough of my friends have that I know the excitement is real. I am by nature a talker. I get that from my mother. Well the seven of us started to talk and we laughed and we laughed. The conductor on our car was, how should I say this politely, hot. And I’m not referring to the temperature in the room. When he walked the length of the car all 14 eyes pivoted in his direction. We were all of an age that we had no problem acknowledging the Scenery. I then piped up that eye candy was good for the soul. Another round of hilarity!

By the time we reached the next town these five women felt like long lost cousins that we loved dearly. They continued on to the airport and my friend and I attended a marvellous display of acrobatics in the Cirque du Soleil.

Had anything that morning been slightly off we would have gotten onto a different car and I wouldn’t have that wonderful memory of those five beautiful women living life to the fullest. Thank you ladies and I hope Vegas never recovers!

Micro Decisions

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We make them, hundreds of times a day. What hand do I use to shake that of another? When I walk do I step out first with my left foot or my right foot? Do I smile at a sunny day or do I grimace? These are not conscious decisions but rather decisions that are made in a split second. They are decisions that are based on habit, inclination or perhaps even whim.   Rarely do we spend time thinking about the ramifications of these micro decisions. We simply make them on the fly.

I have a habit of preparing in advance for unknown situations. That sounds like an oxymoron. Since my mind is always coming up with scenarios, I simply extrapolate. If I am faced with situation A then I have prepared a reciprocal response for the situation. If I am faced with situation B then I have an appropriate response prepared. Obviously I cannot prepare for every situation, given that it is unknown. But I have enough of an arsenal prepared that I can usually wing it.

This comes out of a childhood where I was never prepared. I was painfully shy and terrified of everything and everyone. Especially people. I just assumed that whatever I said would be wrong or idiotic. I lived in constant fear. To protect myself I started paying attention to other people and how they dealt with each situation. It appears I had a good memory.

Moving ahead several decades and I discovered a new weapon. I joined the drama department in school and started acting. I was good. So good in fact that, in almost any situation, I could hide behind the character of me. I believe that this is where my storytelling comes from. And I’m not the only one.

Everyone has something they’re good at. They don’t always know why and it’s not always just due to training. Some people just seem to have an inherent ability to be brilliant. We can all be good at something, But there’re those that excel. Why? There is no answer. And that’s fine. We need a little mystery in our lives, a little magic. People ask me where my ideas for stories come from, where do my poems begin, my quips? Quite frankly I have no idea! It is the way my mind works. I love words and how they fit together, the sounds they make and the pictures they can invoke. See I’ve actually no idea!

What is it about you that excites you?

Real Reality?

 

cropped-cityescape.jpgThe other day I was waiting for a friend and I did something that I love to do. I watched people. As I’m habitually early everywhere I go I had quite a bit of time to sit. It was near a bus station so there was quite a wonderful cross-section of people. Some people were coming, and some people were going. Some people obviously had very important places to be and some had the world at their fingertips.

A group of young man approached me. They were close enough that I could hear their conversation. I was quite surprised. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been. One was extolling the virtues of a sports team, but I must question his schooling. His short conversation (that I overheard) was a full of vulgar expletives. I am not a prude but I do believe that level of vulgarity belongs in the locker room, not on the street where there are children.

These young men did not appear to be thugs, they seemed to be relatively well dressed (they were headed to a baseball game, so no suits in sight). They obviously had money to spend. So I can only surmise their need to speak such language falls to lack of respect. Quite frankly, lack of respect for themselves as well as those within earshot. What happened?

When I was a child respect was the word you lived by or your backside got a tanning. Everyone was Mr. or Mrs. or Miss. If you got caught swearing your tonsils got washed out. It’s not something you forget easily. We held doors open for others, now it’s done automatically by a machine! What are we teaching our children? We are teaching them that it’s someone else’s problem. We are teaching them that it doesn’t matter and by extension that they don’t matter. Everybody matters!!!! Our children need to know that. They need to know that the beautiful models they see in the glossy magazines are not real. They are airbrushed and primped and made up by other people. Reality isn’t real.

I just saw on TV that there is a movement for reality by some celebrities. They want to world to see them without makeup. I hope it takes off because that is what our children need to see. Everybody gets pimples and everybody has a bad hair day. Nobody’s perfect.

When I was a kid I didn’t worry about how I looked, I was a kid. I did kid things. I played in the grass, I rolled in the mud, I got dirty! And I loved it! I have wonderful memories from my childhood and I hold on tight to them. I wonder about the kids today hooked up to their computers, isolated from reality. What do they do when the power goes out? Do they know how to play? I’m glad I’m not a kid today. I’m glad I’ve got my memories.

If only . . .

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Do you ever do that? Do you ever wonder what would have happened if . . .? I try not to do it. But sometimes . . . The human mind is perhaps our greatest gift and our greatest curse. We have the ability to think, to create wondrous things. But we also have the ability to sabotage all that is good by simply worrying about it.

I have a great life. Unfortunately I am occasionally asked about what I have lost. This is not a topic I usually dwell on. For one simple reason:   it is too depressing. Okay, Let’s play the game. What have I lost? At the top of the list are family members and dear friends. I weep for them but they will always live in my heart and in my memories. We have all lost those we love.

What else have I lost? I no longer have the ability to stand or walk. That sounds like such a big thing and some days it is. But I get around from the seat of my wheelchair just fine. I was watching something on the news the other day and I saw people canoeing. I was once very good at that. Made me think nostalgically of the trips I’ve taken. I’ve been rock climbing, canoeing in northern Ontario, sailing, horseback riding, swimming. sports, travelling and more. The list is extensive. I always maintained that I was here for a good time not long time but it would be nice it was a good, long time!

Well, good is what you make it! I may not ever be able to do some of the things I have done in the past but I have my memories and they’re great! I have pictures of the places I have been and I can look back and relive those times. I can. But I don’t spend my time in the past. I loved it then. But now is the time for me. I want to enjoy my life now and I will work bloody hard to see that I do!

I never want to forget my past, good and bad. Because that is what made me, me.   All the experiences I have had, all the people I have met, all of it went towards making me the person I am today. And I like who I am. Do I wish that things had progressed differently? Sure. But they didn’t and this is my life and I will cherish it with every breath I breathe, cuz this is all I got and it ain’t bad!

WHEELCHAIR 4

A Lifeboat in Time

 

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I see her face

In the wisps of a cloud

I hear his voice

It is soft and not loud

 

Their time here is over

My loved ones are gone

Forever beside me

I know I’m not wrong

 

The love I once knew

Still lives in my heart

Each day I move forward

Another fresh start

 

I am who I am

Because of their love

They make me be better

As they look down from above

 

Like lifeboats in time

The memories remain

The world here without them

Is now my domain

In For A Penny

 

canadian-pennies   http://www.forgetthebox.net

A shiny new penny

Mint fresh from the bank

Crossing the palms

Of Clint and of Hank

The journey it’s had

It’s perils unknown

To a fountain perhaps

One day it was thrown

Lost was the penny

Alone in the dirt

Tossed from the pocket

Of a young woman’s skirt

Kept in a jar

For decades untold

The journey is not over

There’s more to unfold

A child’s favourite coin

Was once in a box

Hidden from view

Just under the socks

An actor once flipped

That polished up prop

For his role in a movie

As a villain or cop

Our penny has journeyed

In distance and time

A life in the sunshine

And others in grime

The dimes and the quarters

They all have a place

But the penny’s held dear

In a long state of grace

Our words are remembered

The copper sublime

In vernacular speech

It’s our place to shine

One for your thoughts

Another to save

Songs to be sung

Our penny so brave

The Canadian Penny has been discontinued.  It will be missed.