STAGES OF DEVELOPMENT IN OUR MATURITY

MY THOUGHTS FOR THE DAY


When I was a child--I yearned to know the answers to everything.
When I was a teen-ager--I thought I knew the answers to everything.
When I was a young adult--I knew, I knew the answers to everything.
When I was a mother--I went back to yearning to know the answers to everything.
When my children grew up--I went back to thinking that I knew the answers to everything.
Now that I am really old--I know very little about anything.

God Bless!  See you next time!!

GRANNY'S GOODIES, GRIPES AND GROANS: THE PAIN GOES ON

GRANNY'S GOODIES, GRIPES AND GROANS: THE PAIN GOES ON: "This may seem a rather negative essay for this blog--however, it is meant only as a deterrent to anyone who may be in a depressed and ..."

GRANNY'S GOODIES, GRIPES AND GROANS: THE PAIN GOES ON

GRANNY'S GOODIES, GRIPES AND GROANS: THE PAIN GOES ON: "This may seem a rather negative essay for this blog--however, it is meant only as a deterrent to anyone who may be in a depressed and negative mood. Depression can be deadly, we must not fall victim to it, but rise above whatever it is that troubles us. It isn't easy, but if we have faith in a higher power He will bring us through if we but ask Him too.

THE PAIN GOES ON

This may seem a rather negative essay for this blog--however, it is meant only as a deterrent to anyone who may be in a depressed  and /or helpless state of mind.  I know few who have not at one time or another in life experienced this particular vulnerability.  I myself have been on both sides of this fence, therefore am able to have empathy for both.  I have suffered through the pain of loss, guilt, what if's, anger, self-loathing, and all of the degrading epithets we place upon ourselves and the loved ones who were unable to withstand whatever illnesses, obstacles, or seemingly impossible onuses life deemed to have placed upon them.


Not long ago I was tuned into the Oprah Show.  I watched as a saddened Marie Osmond related the story of her son Michaels death by his own hand.  I was reminded of a piece of poetry I wrote on this subject several years ago after the death of a loved one's relative.  Every stroke of my pen brought back the horrific feelings that I had to endure upon hearing that my mother had taken her life at the young age of forty-five.  I am a survivor--she was not.  I will not go into why she was not, because that is her story.  Suffice it to say I'm not so sure I could have survived it either.  However, I will say that because of my own grief it kept me from ever doing anything to cause that same grief to my own family no matter how tough the going became.


For anyone out there having a difficult time, know that tomorrow is another day, and help is simply a prayer away.     


The name of my poetry is:  THE PAIN GOES ON--because it does!


                                THE PAIN GOES ON


Suicide is devastating! It tears asunder 
the heart, and rips it until nothing is left except fragments, that continue to haunt like bits and pieces of abstract painting on an artist's canvas.


Explosions of color signifying anger, guilt,
resentment and pain brush across stark white 
void, writhing in wild configurations until--
frustration totally spent--the brush of memory
moves on.


When motion ceases, words appear.
"Why did you leave me?"  
"You didn't love me."
"You're selfish."  


The brush of memory having temporarily purged the pain and frustration, creates new words on yet another stark white canvas.


"I'm sorry!"
"forgive me?"
"I forgive you."
"I'll always love you!"


These fragments are tucked away, and brought out only rarely.  As time goes by, love has replaced anger and resentment--however, 
THE PAIN GOES ON!
                             
  

GRANNY'S GOODIES, GRIPES AND GROANS: R.I.P. DAME ELIZABETH

GRANNY'S GOODIES, GRIPES AND GROANS: R.I.P. DAME ELIZABETH: "I grew up with her movies. I am not an idol worshiper, but I came close with Elizabeth, because my mother looked like her, and I lost ..."

R.I.P. DAME ELIZABETH

I grew up with her movies.  I am not an idol worshiper, but I came close with Elizabeth, because my mother looked like her, and I lost my mother when she was only forty-five.


Just the following memorial from me--short and sweet.


Good night sweet princess--may flights of angels speed thee to thy rest.


I had a little help from Mr. Shakespeare.


God Bless!  See you next time!!

MARCEL? YOU HEAR ME?

WHO IN THE HECK IS MARCEL?


The TV has been bombarded of late with ads shouting, "Do you hear me Marcel?"  Even one of our news reporters here in Kern county chants it.  I would like to know who this person is.


I looked up famous Marcels, and the only ones that I thought worth writing about are:


Marcel Marceau--a famous French actor and mime.  His most famous character was called, "Bip the Clown."   Mssr. Marceau was born on March 22, 1923, and died on September 22, 2007.


Marcel Cerdan--a French boxer who was supposedly a peace-loving man, not easily ruffled or given to emotional display.  He was born in 1916--no date of death is given, so perhaps he is still alive.   He would be in his nineties.


Marcel Proust--French Novelist.  He was born in 1871, died in 1922.  He also gave us some famous quotes as follows:


1.   Everything great in the world comes from neurotics.  They alone have founded our religions and composed our master pieces.


2.  Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.


3.   A change in the weather is sufficient to recreate the world and ourselves.


I wonder if he knew something we didn't about global warming, hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes and tsunami's?


God Bless!  See you next time!!