- Austin**•.¸♥¸.•**not-Texas, Texas, USA
- May 28
- ♪♫ ♥ Diva ♥ ♪♫♥
- Mom, partner, listener, healer of wounds large and small, dog-petter, writer, pie baker, star shooter, wine appreciator, hungry muse, part-time pirate and pole dancer.
MY RECENT POSTS
- The Remembering
January 16, 2013 11:42AM
- Barely Breathing
August 01, 2012 05:50PM
- Together (an OS love song)
June 22, 2012 10:49AM
- The Wonder Dog
June 06, 2012 04:24PM
- A Heart Breaks Unevenly
March 07, 2012 02:31AM
MY RECENT COMMENTS
- “I love the picture you
posted. That's almost enough
for me to
April 04, 2013 10:50PM
- “I loved reading this,
the 'backstory,' your
experience as a
April 04, 2013 10:44PM
- “A beautiful post. You
April 04, 2013 10:34PM
- “You provide a background
to a young man who many
March 21, 2013 06:28PM
- “Truly lovely. Lea, your
grandmother may have been the
March 09, 2013 01:51PM
- MY LINKS
- MY LINKS
- MY LINKS
Today is the fifth anniversary of my son's accident. Of his being hit by a car and having a severe traumatic brain injury. For the last four years, January 16th rolls towards me with insistence. January 16, 2008 is when we stopped being a normal family. It is where our… Read full post »
Breathing. It sounds so simple until one breaks it down. A slow intake in of breath, a mindful exhalation: these actions are not so simple when one is accustomed to running on empty.
I stepped into the yoga studio with trepidation. I had signed up for… Read full post »
There are times
that I wish you could see me
as I see me
And when those times occurred
you would squint
That what you see
is a person that is very much me
and it seems a bit like you
You who are my dailiness
we would break bread
There is but one saving grace, one savior I can look to during the heights of Austin’s stubbornness and stress: Sparkie the Wonder Dog.
“Remember,” I say as we enter the animal shelter, “all three of us have to agree on the dog. Got it?”
We met 30 years ag/… Read full post »
1. Your main trait: compassionate
2. The quality you like best in a man: accountability
3. The quality you like best in a woman: intuitiveness
4. Your main flaw: procrastination
5. Last time you cried: two days ago
6. Ideal job: psychologist (what I already do! how lucky am I?)
7. Scent of a place: t… Read full post »
You used to think you had a choice
once, perhaps you did
Now, no longer is that available to you.
Now, as your eyes droop from sadness
and your heart sags with the weight of knowledge
You must stand up,
You must begin to sing.
Your voice will quiver
your unsteadiness will show
and peop/… Read full post »
Her smile is so bright it defies the definition of happiness.
Her little hands wave and clench only to wave again.
Her perfect little mouth pushes out the exclamation as her eyes widen.
She sits on his lap. She strokes his beard… Read full post »
I am frustrated.
Each time I hear of the 'heart-warming' story of Gabby Giffords, I want to scream. I am angry because her story is portrayed one-dimensionally as a story of hope and courage for survivors of Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). And I believe, that for the families of a person with… Read full post »
a sleigh, a sky blue car, on a plate.
Sometimes it arrives on two legs and sometimes on four, but never more than four.
Its arrival cannot be planned for
but its departure can be counted upon.
/… Read full post »
My heart skips a beat to keep time with the deliberate pauses he adds between words. There is an edge to his voice that I find annoying yet compelling. The words, the pauses, the tone, these are all I have to hang on to at this moment. This white-coated… Read full post »
“Look in the mirror, lift your chest, find your
Find my ribs? I haven’t seen my ribs since middle school. I am pretty sure I am dying. I am pretty sure I lost some common sense somewhere. Why? Because I am voluntarily in a room heated to/… Read full post »
The first cup of coffee in the morning:
No matter how many cups I may have throughout the day, there is nothing like that first cup. The smell, the taste, the warmth spreading thru my body with the caffeine knocking on neural receptors...ahh.
Paper, cards, paper stores, new journal… Read full post »
I think a lot about how they break horses. How the point of breaking a horse is to reduce its spirit to an acceptable level. I think about how the process begins with fear and it reminds me of how some of my worst experiences started and ended… Read full post »
When I think of Moors, I think of Shakespeare's Othello. The handsome African prince kills his wife in a tale of jealousy and betrayal.
Looking up the path we were meant to climb I am not thinking of jealousy but rather of sloth. My own sloth as there… Read full post »
I wish it were otherwise, but no matter how many ways I try to look at it: it’s true, I am not perfect.
Part of this is a response to what has happened over the last few days on OS. That’s
The packed sand barely makes a sound under my feet. There are rows and rows of masoleums, short squat cottages for the dead. The dead don’t take up much room, just a shelf. There are also statues, headstones, busts. Each piece is a variation of greyed marble.
It's much harder these days to storm a palace. No longer can one put on some chain mail, some evil pointy-toed metal boots, mount a steed and charge. There's no plotting about what to do about the moat, or how many arrows must be carried. Now, it's a train ride, a… Read full post »
I have jet lag. I look like hell. My feet ache from climbing stairs and stairs of cobble stones.
I love it because all of these things are the result of traveling to Lisbon. Lisbon is known for its seven hills. We apparently stayed in the midst of these hills… Read full post »
I'm late here tonight but know that your friends on OS have been sending you birthday wishes all day!
You have the finest smile in Texas.
You have great wit, incredible humor, and the best snark of anyone here.
You've endured, you've survived, and… Read full post »
I spent the first Thanksgiving without my kids under the covers. The divorce was new. my grief fresh. The thought of spending time with someone else’s family (and kids but not my kids) was too much for me to bear. So, I bought some of my favorite foods, got a… Read full post »
I am dozing in the bland, pretend recliner in BoyChild’s ICU room when J and my parents enter. They take their places around his bed, murmuring words of love and encouragement. BoyChild might appear rude in his lack of response but the tubes running in and out of him provide an… Read full post »
Joinin in on Lezlie's Open Call:
1) Unsolocited advice. If I want your advice I will ask for it, thank you very much.
2) People who cannot go without looking at their cellphone every 5 minutes, who put it on the table when we are lunching, who stop conversation to… Read full post »
It’s 1972. I live with my family on a military base. It’s Memorial Day weekend and the entire base is swathed in displays of patriotism. I walk into the Base Exchange behind my parents and immediately become engulfed in the crowd. Whereas, normally the entry area might have onl… Read full post »
His face is rough and speaks to long days unsheltered
against the elements.
I see the little boy he might have been,
sleeping with his hands pressed together as in prayer.
Hands under the side of his face to form a human pillow,
a little softness in a world of hardness.… Read full post »