Hoy caen lagrimas en mi almohada al pensar en mi tía adorada.
Siempre supo darme tanto de su amor y ahora extraño su calor.
Tía bella y hermosa la quiero tanto. Tia bendiciones.
Feliz Cumpleañostia querida
I woke up at 4:33 am crying because I heard her voice in the night. I wish I could just pick up the phone and talk to her sometimes. She was such a corky individual with a dry sense of humor. I would talk with her about dates I had gone on and she would laugh and tell me don’t do fusilico too soon. She meant sex. Right now I smile thinking of her. I cry because come tomorrow she won’t be calling to wish me a happy birthday. I now wish I had taken more pictures with her. I wish I had visited her more often when she was in Florida. I wish I had hugged her more. I wish I could hug her right now. Perhaps if I lie very still in the night she will speak to me once more.
Today my aunt would have been 85 years old but she died on July 27, 2017. She had scleroderma which is a slowly debilitating disease. Thinking back I remember her taking so long to finish eating. I always thought she was just super slow. Today being a doctor I know it was the dysphagia part of her illness. Back then she didn’t even know herself. Reading about a disease is one thing but knowing someone who has it and watching them slowly debilitate is another thing. Do you ever wish you could speak with someone that has moved on? What would you say? If you heard their voice in the night, would you listen or be scared?
Pencil pencil pencil pen pen pen
All on my desk in my cold dark den
Pencil pen pencil pen pencil pen
What to write with with?
What to write to cover this white?
Which one will win this fight?
Paper paper paper
Shaper scraper and caper
Shall I utilize this pencil with its lead so gentle? Or the pen?
The Pen is better. It’s ink wetter.
Smoothly gliding down my paper reminiscing its last caper.
Shall I proceed divulging or gulp it down?
Must document it or else I’ll drown!
Click click click
Barrel cap nip pen tip
I prefer the pen.
The pen is long and its ink strong.
Now this page won’t be white for long!
If ever one has been blocked from writing whether it be for school or work it is best just let go. Surrender yourself to tranquility. One just never knows what may come from it. Just sit, breathe and go. Don’t think about the topic, just write, just flow and within it your topic shall me.
As I sat by my window I heard bird chirping coming from outside. I looked out the window and saw a bird fly by. I extended my right hand and the bird flew to me. It then sang the most beautiful of songs.
I wondered why the beautiful bird sang alone. As I held the small bird in my hands I noticed it was wounded. Poor little bird was bleeding on the area below its right wing. My heart raced and I became sad. For some reason I really cared for the bird.
The bird then took flight but faithfully returned everyday and sang its melody to me. I can’t begin to tell you the elation I felt. I was invisible in the world and it all changed the moment the bird came to me. I was no longer invisible! I was special! I was loved!
But one day the bird didn’t come. I missed it so much. Where did it go? What had I done wrong? As I wondered, a thought came to mind. His wound had healed and now it did sing among the other birds. I extended my arm out the window praying it would come to me like before but the bird just flew right by. I felt pain in my chest, and put my head down and I cried.
Three days later I heard chirping coming from outside. I ran to the window and saw that my beautiful bird chirped the loudest among the others. The melody was directed towards me and I was ecstatic. With utmost excitement I extended my right hand but once again the bird didn’t fly to me. I was sad but I smiled because at that moment I realized how much he loved me too.
Hugs from Brooklyn
This entry is placed in dedication to Anaya Ruiz age 11 for requesting something she could read. This story is about love and purity. Sometimes the love is there but we can’t be with those we love. Anyone have a story to share? I love to write but I also love to read.
Standing at the door not knowing whether to stay or go. I loved you once but now I just don’t know. Sometimes I want to walk out but I stop and think of all we’ve been through. The laughter echoes while tears fall upon my face. I can’t shake the pain. Now there’s only disdain.
Should I assuage myself by pretending it never occurred? Could I remain at bay when your gusts of inconsistencies bludgeoned my hull and my rudders? I’m so lost I shudder.
Yet here I stand with each foot juxtaposed before the door. I long for peace and happiness that comes from being apart. I’m frightened to go and frightened to stay. Is it possible any other way? Is it?
When I’m in a slumber I dream of running outside and bursting into laughter. That would bring me great joy. Do I dare do it? Is this a game? Am I the toy? What to employ?
I realize I must make a choice to leave or stay. This causes such dismay! I have been yelling for you to go but it is I that must decide. The more I knew you the less I knew myself! My soul has left and I must follow.
Hugs from Brooklyn
I am happy to state that my divorce was amicable. I love his new wife and son. My ex-mother-in-law never stopped loving me. We always kept in contact and despite having advanced Alzheimers she would sometimes share lucid moments with me. She recently passed on and I miss her. My ex-father in law always would call to check on me. He was such a funny guy and he passed on various years before his wife. I will write a blog just about them in the future.
I spent countless hours in search of you. I lost sleep making me befuddled I even cried. I wasn’t going to just let anyone share my bed. Then our paths traversed.
Nightly you warm my bed during these subzero temperatures. Having you around keeps me tepid as a tea that is ready to be sipped. Having you wrapped around my shivering body ahhhhh. I get angst at having to depart from you come the break of dawn.
You are dependable. Every night you spend with me, you never falter. Your touch is gentle. The way you caress every inch of me elates me immensely. Others before you tried but they were cheap imitations. There is and will always be only one you. You are real and you are mine.
I especially love it when you press yourself against my face. I don’t care that parts of you feel fuzzy. You smell amazing too. You have been in my bed many nights and I will never tire of you. You may be older but I will never replace you for I’ve grown very attached to you. I know that come summer you have to go away but I know I will see you again come winter.
Thank you sincerely for being my warm durable comforter.