Category Archives: heartbreak

Questioning My Heartbreak

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The post today would have been on something else.

It would have been articulate and worthy of reading.

It would have been on subjects esoteric or philosophical.

I set the previous subject on the ‘back burner of my mind.’

This is such an ancient topic,

old as the people who first

walked the Earth.

 

Heartbreak.

 

Why, oh why did you have to call?

 

I was so deep in slumber and in a good place.

I have tried to block you from my mind.

When I thought I was so ‘over’ you,

I ‘unblocked’ your cell phone number.

 

Why did I do this?

Because, I would want to know. . .

If something bad happened to you.

 

Do you remember the poem

I had written where I talked

about I would rather do this

or that; than be with you?

 

Could you laugh

as I mentioned

I would rather

be in a cage

with monkeys?

 

Did you get the least bit

teary eyed when you

realized I was serious?

 

Just when my Life is on course.

You know how to turn my heart

topsy-turvy, my world upside down.

 

No, I am not involved with anyone.

But, how dare you think it is okay

to call so early in the

morning!

 

Isn’t it at all possible,

for you to imagine,

I may have

someone

special by now,

sleeping beside me?

 

Isn’t it possible,

that I may have

danced the night away

and needed to sleep

some more?

 

Couldn’t it be,

am out of the country,

with my long lost

soul mate,

on a wonderful

cruise?

 

Traveling

far off countries

mentioned

in my hopes

for us?

 

Might I have not wanted

to stay in my dream land,

content to have warmth

and positive thoughts

to greet my day?

 

Every old love lost

and heartbreak song

was written by someone

who had hopes dashed.

 

I don’t want to have you

lingering on my mind.

 

When I am in a good place,

secure and confident

I will somehow have

a partner to share

our lives together.

 

Tried it a few times,

not desperate yet.

 

Even if she were dead,

you chose to go back

to an ex-girlfriend.

 

Didn’t your family,

my family,

and

I

try to tell you how we fit together?

Better than ‘two peas in a pod?”

 

You may regret,

Never listened.

Never again,

I won’t regret.

 

So, Go!

Please- – Go!

 

Stay out of my phone,

my mind

and

my dreams.

 

I am not channeling Adele or Taylor Swift’s rants.

This is my non-poetic prose. Just trying to let it go.

Trying to keep on my happy path. Shining light on

and soon to be sharing the “Cinderella” story with

my “M & M” granddaughters, ages 4 and 6. Hope

they will not be counting on a fairy tale, but better

yet:  A real and everlasting love. Like my parents

had and my grandparents had. This is my wish.

~Robin Elizabeth Oldrieve Cochran, 3/14/15.

 

P.S. I did not answer his phone call. I deleted his

message. He is not dead; nor in the hospital.

Enough to let me be content.

 

What is your favorite heartbreak song?

I love Neil Diamond’s, “Solitary Man.”

Teddy Roosevelt’s Hiding Place

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It is amazing to read another side of a person you may have studied

in Social Studies or in American History classes. Theodore Roosevelt,

Jr. faced horrible losses and a singular joy all in a short period of time.

The pain was so much he needed to get away. He needed to ‘wallow’

in his sorrow and be alone while grieving.

 

“The Light has gone out of my Life.”

 

These words were found in a personal journal, carrying the weight of

true sadness. Theodore Roosevelt’s wife died and in a short amount

of time later, his dear mother died.

 

Both women died in the same house.

Both loved ones died on the same day.

 

The joy was his daughter, Alice Lee.

 

The cause of his wife’s death, as so often happened in the past, was

due to this precious baby. I remember seeing this in movies, in books

and my mother mentioning how common this ‘death during childbirth’

occurred. He was 26 years old, handling the baby by himself. We don’t

hear about the details, except that he chose to escape. His family must

have taken care of baby Alice, while he was gone.

 

“The Elkhorn Ranch” became his place of healing and solitude. This

is place is in North Dakota.

This journey is an incredible story. One where Theodore Roosevelt

sought nature for his grief counseling. This led him to incorporate

the idea of preserving nature into his future plans. Taking care of his

country had not been originally part of his political plans. Teddy

himself said this (paraphrased):

“I would never have been President if not for my experience in

North Dakota.”

Once renewed, he came back to New York and ran for political

offices. . . all leading up to his saving land for National Parks.

 

When the story was mentioned in a brief account on CBS Sunday

Morning, I noted that this story originated from February, 1884. It is

approaching 131 years since Theodore Roosevelt retreated from the

dual deaths, the birth of his daughter and got out of the public eye.

While rustling cattle out West in the Dakotas, he again met death.

Freezing wintertime caused sickness and his herds of cattle died.

 

The image of the sole remaining rock, the only remaining part of

the Elkhorn Ranch’s foundation that is left, was shown. A historian

leaned over the rock, as if studying all of the details of Theodore

Roosevelt’s rocky, rugged path in life.

 

The beautiful miles and acres of land surrounding this place, still

are pristine. The cottonwoods glistening in the sun while shaking and

making a hissing sound captured my attention.

 

But the personal tragedies that Theodore Roosevelt endured is what

really held my interest.

I had to know more. . .

 

As a child, Theodore was a sickly, asthmatic boy. His family was well-

to-do and had him home-schooled. Something in Teddy’s spirit made

him a fighter.  This gut instinct would carry out throughout his life. He

joined athletics, hiked often in the outdoors, and embraced the idea of

trying to strengthen his body.

 

As if he were laughing at the ‘fates’ and was challenging them to a duel,

Teddy wanted to overcome his childhood weakness.

 

Theodore successfully graduated from his home-schooling,

proceeding onward to Harvard for his undergraduate studies.

He successfully went on to Columbia Law School. He met and

married the wealthy Alice, who he lost.

 

Theodore came back from his escape in the Dakotas, having spent

a wild time there. He had ‘licked his wounds,’ found solitude and

regained his determination to make an impact on the country.

There were several steps, you may read about, that led him to

become a politician running for different offices. He rose through

the ranks, showing his acumen for politics.

 

The road to Theodore Roosevelt becoming President was an

interesting political story but I am more interested in his life’s

choices.

 

Again because of a death, President McKinley’s assassination,

Theodore’s path got altered.  Through tragedy he rose to this

place of  leadership, being sworn in shortly after the death.

 

 

Six years later, he met and married his second wife, who he had

five other children with.  His family life is not detailed in the

articles I read, but may be found in historian’s accounts and his

family stories. There are surely many biographies about Theodore

Roosevelt to fill in some of the gaps I have left open.

 

Theodore Roosevelt died at age 60, somehow this makes another

impression on me, one of sadness. I will be 60 this year.

Teddy’s life just seems like it was too short.

I feel his brief life was one filled with great contributions.

One that may be considered “a Force to Reckon with.”

Here’s how he made a difference. . .

~Created the “Rough Riders.”

~Won the 1906 Nobel Peace Prize due to his successful negotiations

and mediation between Russia and Japan, ending the war.

~Appointed the first Jewish man to his Cabinet.

~Talked about different races, if they were to be admired or disdained,

he believed each one should be taken individually and considered on

their merit. His open-minded comments sometimes were muffled by

his outspoken, out of context, racist comments. (See what he said

about Indians, for example.)

~Open door policy about Immigration, but again stressed that

the individuals needed to become American and respect the

country that became their own, leaving behind the country they

left.

~Created “Square Deal” and its unique way of political thinking.

~Went on safaris where the hunted animals were made part of

the Smithsonian Museum’s exhibits. Some have not been as sure

that this was a scientific or worthwhile project. These days, it may

be ‘frowned upon,’ by animal protective league members and

preservationists.

~Spoke out and acted for Conservation and Preservation.

~Directly responsible for Congress approving Eight National

Parks.

~”30 million National Parks and Forests” are his unspoken legacy.

(This high number was mentioned in the news essay, I am wondering

if this is meant to include international park numbers influenced

by his great works.)

 

The above interpretation of Theodore Roosevelt’s life

was written by Robin O. Cochran, (1/6/15).

 

 

Two famous quotations by

Theodore Roosevelt, Jr. :

1.  “In any moment of decision, the best thing you can do

is the right thing.

The worst thing you can do is nothing.”

 

2.  “Courage is not having the strength to go on,

it is going on when you don’t have the strength.”

 

Nature thoughts:

 

“Between every two pines

is a doorway to a new world.”

John Muir.

 

“The wonder is that we can see these trees

and not wonder more.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson.

 

“Plant trees.”

J. Sterling Morton.

 

A book to read, newly written:

“The Art of Stillness,” by travel writer Pico Iyer.

It highlights a wide variety of people, including

famous rock stars, artists and ‘thinkers’ who have

found solace in solitude. It also features yoga,

meditation and how being ‘still’ can lead to

success.

“By slowing down and sitting still one can

spark creativity and even adventure,”

“Men’s Health,” January,2015  issue.

 

 

Grandma’s Wedding Dress

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My Dad’s mother was a tiny woman of short stature, with her large brown eyes

peering expectantly in her face from under her wedding veil. There is a portrait of a

group of women, gathered in a photograph, where they are all wearing wedding

gowns. It is unique to see this 85 year old picture, where there are 28 women in

varied lengths and shades of their wedding dresses.

This sepia and cream photograph, which I chose to frame recently, in a gold-

filigreed metal frame with burgundy velvet backing, has been in my ‘custody’ for

almost 40 years.

I took this so-called “Pagaent of Wedding Gowns,” picture where I had to scan and

search carefully to find my grandmother here, out of my mother’s old red leather

photo album. This album was the kind where black pages had white ink lettering

that filled in “only a few gaps in all the years” collected. The words under the

pageant’s heading say, “Women’s Auxiliary.” I wonder why the word ‘pagaent’

is misspelled this way?

 

My old blogging friend, Lorna, seriously you have been around since about 2 years

ago, (Not ‘old’ in age, heaven’s no!) is getting married tomorrow! I am rejoicing and

dancing in my head at this good fortune and news! Please check out one of her most

endearing and comical posts about hers and Phil’s wedding ‘planning!’

http://lornasvoice.com/2014/09/11/the-idiots-guide-to-non-wedding-planning/

 

My warmest regards to the Happy Couple! Upcoming wedding of my youngest

daughter’s best friend from middle school, Holly and Nate, will be on October 4, ’14.

Showering these two couples with love, laughter and the best married lives ever!

So, if I lived closer, Lorna, I would be there for you: singing the funny song,

“I’m Getting Married in the Morning, ding dong the bells are going to ring…”

(from “My Fair Lady,” only inserting “You’re” for “I’m.)

 

My Mom, at the time, did not pay too close attention to this album, since we often

‘ransacked’ memorabilia, in those days.  Usually, I was borrowing scarves, clothes,

jewelry or those dainty handkerchiefs with embroidery or colorful woven floral

patterns. I liked to tuck these into my purses or pockets in jackets. My brothers used

to borrow men’s ties and wove them in and out of the belt loops in their bell-bottom

pant’s belt loops. Randy and I were involved in theater, he with set designs and the

stage crew. He inserted a lot of his original artwork into the plays during those

years.

Randy and I both knew how to “patch” (jeans, skirts, jackets, and other things)

and would get into my Mom’s large sewing ‘basket.’ We were more careful putting

things back in good order in there, since she was more likely to be using it sooner

than later.

The album had those black triangles, normally placed at four corners of a photo,

which had given out in two places. When I told my Mom that I needed to write

a paper or story of a historical event she just said, “Go ahead and use whatever

you like.” At the time,  I decided to do what pleased me best, to write a fairy tale

about my grandmother for this literature class I was taking my Senior year of high

school. My Grandma Oldrieve had died during my Freshman year of high school.

She had lived with us, since I was only 3 years old.

 

My Grandma O. was an enigma to me.

Although I would talk to her, she rarely spoke. She nodded her head and quietly

patted my hand. She took my arm, when I would go to get her daily for dinner.

She held herself up, while leaning on my arm. She had been ‘feeble.’ My Dad had

had to go to work while he was only 11, due to her inability to  pay rent on her

own. This story I have shared elsewhere.

 

My Dad loved his mother, but he was also quiet around her. This is a mystery,

which my Mom explains in her own about way. I do know my Mom felt

gratitude for the 12 years she lived in their homes. My Grandma helped out

with laundry and dishes. She would always send us in our pajamas to kiss her

goodnight, while she sat in her own ‘suite’ of rooms, smoking. My brothers were

hurried, but I would sit for a few minutes to check out what she was watching on

her little black and white t.v. I would perch on the arm of her comfortable chair.

Sometimes, she would give me a dry kiss on my cheek or a frail, gentle hug.

 

To describe the photograph more in detail: There are 20 women wearing white

wedding dresses, 6 wearing black dress and most are wearing long dresses. The

two women who are wearing ‘gray’ dresses, could have on pastel colors which

are only what I can detect as ‘gray.’ There are three women wearing short dresses,

which are below the knees, but would not be considered ‘short’ by most people

these days.

My Grandma O. has one of the mid-length dresses on in a wispy, gauzy kind

of material. It looks like it is layered over a taffeta or satin fabric. It makes me

think of a ballerina’s dress, not the tutu form, but the one that you see in a

formal style performance. Her dress is cream or white.

The photograph mentions that this is taken at the:

“New Thought Temple

December 8, 1939.”

 

When I wrote the details up in my ‘report’ or paper, (in high school lit. class), I

included the questions that I asked my mother and father. Was this in Cincinnati?

Did Dad ever go to this church? Do you know why they were gathered at this time?

Were the women who wore black:  widows?

The answers went like this: Yes, No, No, I think so.

 

I don’t have my original ‘Fairy Tale” about my Grandma and Grandpa,

my father’s parents. I do have the lovely stories of my mother’s parents

and grandparents’ love stories in my blogs. I did not keep any of my

high school writings, but did keep most of my doodles and scribbles,

resembling ‘art.’

 

Here is the ‘essence’ of what I had hoped my Grandmother’s wedding

day encompassed. . .

 

I wrote that my Grandmother loved her beau and wished to please him

always.  She was sweet to him, waited on him, hand and foot. She met him

at the church called, New Thought Temple. When he went off to the WWII

war, he was never the same again when he returned. There are no letters

sent from him, saved in a bundle with a ribbon around them. My Grandpa

was in a Veteran’s Hospital, when I was born in Cleveland, Ohio. He had

only one visit with my parents, my grandmother and me together. My

Mom says he smiled at me, while I was a baby. He did not hold me, my

Mom said it was due to his having sudden seizures, she was afraid he

would drop me. They held me out to have him look at me, they sat with

him and told him that my Mom was planning on having another baby,

(my brother and I are 18 months apart.) He seemed to nod and smile,

she says that he was happy to have visitors. She thinks back, sometimes

to how it may have been, if my Dad hadn’t been given a job in Tennessee

and then, later up in Sandusky. If they had stayed closer, in Cincinnati,

maybe they would have visited more often?

 

My Grandmother was a ‘dreamer’ and she tried her best while coloring in

with watercolors and colored pencils, drawings for Gibson Card company,

while she was a young woman. By the time she had my Dad, she worked

as a ‘Candy Striper’ at the big hospital in Cincinnati. She knew my Dad was

going to Kentucky to work and make wages for their bills, but she did not

express much emotion or gratitude. My father wondered if she had been

depressed or despondent and unable to express herself to her obedient

son?

My fairy tale would be that she wore that dress down the aisle and found

a strong, sturdy man at the end of that walk. My grandmother, Eveline,

had her vows shared with my grandfather, Edwin, with a fine group of

people gathered. His strength pulled them through hard times, his arms

held her up so she needn’t feel like she was alone. My fairy tale would

show her tremendous joy, spinning around while preparing to walk down

the aisle, with her cream gauzy dress. She would be  whispering love secrets

to her maid of honor,  which would give her much satisfaction later in her

life.

While she lived in her son and daughter-in-law’s house, she would reflect

back  upon that splendid day. It would be forever etched into her mind,

with all the beauty in the bouquet, the scent of roses and carnations giving

her such smiles, lingering in her mind.

The comforting three little ones who would come in all clean, powder-scented

and hair slicked back on the boys, would bring her much inner peace and joy.

Memories of her wedding pirouette with her good friends surrounding her,

then the fine wedding waltz with her handsome tall Edwin, would be her last

thought, when she succumbed to her heart attack in 1970. Heavenly visions

of her husband’s hands reaching out to guide her along.

That’s the “happily ever after,” I wished for my Grandmother.

At Last.

 

 

Wipe the Slate Clean

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Do you remember when you were a child in school? Were you ever this young?

Just kidding!

Have things changed since the days you were in ‘grade school?’

Children, in the old days, would be assigned ‘cleaning the blackboard’ on the

classroom’s job or chores chart. That meant to erase the whole board, followed

by the activity of taking the erasers outside and clapping them together. I used

to like this ‘after school’ job. I would see the dust rising from the erasers being

pounded together and be filled with a sense of accomplishment.

I also enjoyed this chore,  since sometimes the teacher would talk to us, along

with let us choose something from her treats jar or a stash she had in one of

her drawers.

When I taught sixth grade, the first year was 1979-1980. The “Board Cleaner,”

was how I wrote this particular chore on a magnet. Each of the children would

rotate this, with other ones such as “Line Leader,” etc.  I would also have a small

bucket, to have the student fill with water. Using an old towel or ‘rag,’ the child

would wipe the remains of the dust off. It was a nice feeling, for me as a teacher,

to see that ‘clean slate,’ at the start of the next day.

Imagine your bad times, past hurts or difficult periods in your life.

Write them down on a blackboard in your head.

List them, one by one, remembering the pains, trials and sadness.

Take your mental ‘eraser’ and carefully, slowly rub each one of these away.

Rub the eraser up and down, or if you prefer, side to side. Make sure that all

you see, at the end of this mental exercise, is a hazy blur of grayish black.

Now, take a dampened rag and get a small stepladder, or if you are back in

time, a child’s wooden stool. Use the wet rag to clean all the remaining chalk’s

powder and blurred images off. If you need to, turn the cloth inside out.

Finish this process mentally, along with your imaginary blackboard.

You now have a ‘clean slate.’

Picture, if you will, the best times of your life.

Make a list of places, faces and beautiful images.

It is possible, I have done this process, in my head, too.

You can ‘re-invent’ yourself.

You may become a renewed person.

Your positive energy can ‘re-charge’ you and make you whole again.

Believe in unlimited possibilities.

 

Somehow, move into the present.

There are no ‘time limits’ or penalties, in this.

There are no ‘school bells’ going off.

There is no need to do anything but leave the board behind you.

Proceed outside.

Breathe in, breathe out.

You are free of the painful past.

How will the story of your life continue from here on out?

 

I have had friends who have asked me,

“How did you bounce back?”

In my case, I had a sense of purpose, to raise my children and make

their lives as positive and happy, as possible. I could not take any

more time on my own dissatisfaction or depression, I would not

dwell on what choices led me to the places I went. I just knew I had

to start over. I chose a town in Central Ohio, a college town, you know

it as Delaware, Ohio.

My parents were in Cleveland, later in Vermilion and my ex-husband

lived in Cincinnati, later in Dayton.

It was a halfway point, between the two cities, letting me able to make it

in either direction, without too many hours on the road.

I chose this place to ‘start over.’

I knew it was my children’s and my ‘new beginning.’

I knew absolutely not one soul here.

I later found some high school friends who had chosen to live here.

One was my children’s high school Biology teacher, another a swimming

and gymnastics instructor, and another followed me here, after her own

divorce.

If you have caused someone else’s heart to break, let it go.

Try not to cause any more heartbreak, try not to crush or break a

child’s spirit.

Any mistakes you have made, learn from them.

Always think that there are more chances in life.

I believe in multiple chances or opportunities to start over!

Another way to handle strife and tough times is an interesting one,

that editorial cartoonist, Marshall Ramsey gives in an article in the

December, 2013 issue of “Prevention” magazine. M. Ramsey’s

suggestion is to look at your life and remember the “terrible twists”

that happened to you. He personally likes to list his own negative

occurrences and then, see them in a positive light.

Here are some examples found in the article called, “True Grit.”

“The way to get through tough times is to start with advanced gratitude.”

M. Ramsey’s list of Life’s negatives matched with happy outcomes:

1.  His first job after college was as a high school janitor.

The job led him to his future wife, the daughter of a fellow janitor.

2.  The recession forced him into part-time work.

Getting laid off gave him the time to start 2 new careers;  in book

illustration and radio.

3.  Melanoma diagnosis.

His cancer diagnosis helped him to decide to organize a series of

races to raise melanoma awareness.

4.  People who did not believe in him.

All those naysayers were just ‘ill winds beneath his wings.’

Great words to live by, quoted from Marshall Ramsey:

“A good analogy is if you’re canoeing downstream and you hit a rock,

it can either sink you or push you in another direction. If you choose

the other direction, it’s a blessing.”

Advanced gratitude is explained in this article as:

“The ability to identify and appreciate the bad events in your life because

of what you’ve gained from them.”

M. Ramsey gives these steps and you may find more details in the article,

if you wish to look up “Prevention” magazine, 12/13.

This process is a three step one, which includes changing your perspective.

First, establish a gratitude ‘baseline.’

Then, retrain your own brain. Tying thoughts of

stressful events in your life may even change your neural pathways.

Reminding yourself that good things come out of difficult times, may

just pull you through the bad times.

Remember the hard stuff.  What have you gained from sorrow, losses or

sadness?

There were studies listed and other experts in different emotional

areas covered, including Dr. Robert Emmons, Dr. Rick Hanson, and

Dr. Richard Tedeschi.  These authorities have done research and written

books on the subject of “Who am I? What kind of future do I want?

What makes sense to do with my time now that this event has stopped

me in my tracks?”

I have heard someone on television talking in my past about how we can

create our own destiny, change the course of time, and I have come up

with many times, the image of a blackboard with writing on it. Lots of

thoughts cluttered on it, sometimes I have made lists on it, but always

I like the satisfaction of wiping the figurative blackboard clean.

Starting today with a clean slate, just fits my notion of a happy beginning!

Single Ladies Unite!

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On June 4, 1948, Marion Richards placed a greeting card and a corsage on

some of her coworker’s desks. Inside each card, she left a special message

and in honor of her choice of words, there is a holiday on June 4th to celebrate!

She had chosen, you see, women who were over thirty years of age and were

unmarried at the time. She wanted them to feel loved and cared for, despite

their status.

This day is called, “Old Maid’s Day!!”

Oh my! Let’s see, in that time period my Dad was 16 years old and my

Mom was 20 years old.

Both my parents had aunts that were unmarried, due to choice, situation

or loss of a husband. They lived in separate homes, leading active and

productive lives.

My Great Aunt Marie had lost her husband to death while young. She had

worked until she was 67 years old at Gorton’s Fish Company in Gloucester.

She was one of the ‘highlights’ of my 16th summer in 1972. She had a little

red sports car and would take me to the drive-in movies, pick up young (and

cute) hitch-hikers when we were heading out of town. She would carry on the

liveliest and most interesting conversations. She was a good ‘role model’ for

my future dates by being independent and leading a positive life. I remember

one of her favorite outfits that she wore. She had a bright coral blouse and a

beautiful silk scarf with a floral design that included the color of turquoise.

She showed creativity and good fashion sense, which I liked to think about

as time went by She showed a ‘joi de vivre.” She will always be, in my eyes:

Forever young!

When my Great Aunt Marie was 92, I went to visit her. She still had her

own apartment, liked to walk to Bingo, to McDonald’s and the stores

in Gloucester.  When I woke up early to hear her lilting voice raised in

song, I walked slowly and quietly into the kitchen to find her dancing.

There she was floating on her toes, gracefully pirouetting and spinning.

When that song that says, “I Hope You Dance” came out, I carefully copied

all the words and mailed it to her. We were pen pals, and although she

never remarried, she always professed love for Pete, her husband who

had died. She never expressed regrets for not having children and truly

seemed interested in mine. I kept some of her letters, since they hold

such amazing positive words of encouragement. She was not lonely and

made friends up until she died at age 96! No worries for her being an

“Old Maid!” Not in her vocabulary or sensibility.

My Great Aunt Harriet was also a widow, a little older than my Aunt Marie,

but still would take her easel out Bearskin Neck and paint boats and the

infamous Rockport, Mass. red boathouse, Motif Number 1. She also was one

who would hop on her bicycle and go to the other ‘coves’ or inlets to use

her drawing pad. She was quite lively, intelligent and could get my 16 year

old self intrigued in everything from conservation, sea life, and politics!

Mom used to talk about her “elderly old maiden aunts,” which in reality

were cousins of hers. They were retired school teachers. They were not

related, so there were times, much later in my life, that Mom said one

time,

“I think they may have loved each other, choosing to spend their retirement

days, reading and volunteering at the library in Middletown, Ohio.”

Still later, while watching Sean Penn acting as the gay character with the

same name as the movie, “Milk,” she expressed thoughts that her maiden

aunts “may have been” lesbians adding,

“I guess we will never know for sure, since they never told anyone, that I

knew of, in the family.”

Tomorrow, (June fourth), is “My Day!” It may be “Your Day!”

In this world of crazy reasons to celebrate, rejoice in the feeling of being

‘free to choose whatever you wish to do,’ as long as you don’t go out and

break any laws, I don’t care if you even ‘play hooky from work!’

Many women, in today’s society, choose to remain unmarried well past

their 30’s. There is no ‘time limit’ or restrictions or even suggested age

that one must marry now. When women choose to focus on their careers,

their own paths in life, and possibly having children with no marriage

license. . .

I think, “Whatever works for you!”

If you haven’t found Mr. Right, he may just be around the corner.

(At least you have not settled for Mr. Wrong!)

If you are looking for Ms. Right, she may also be just around the corner.

(I hope you catch her eyes!)

If you are content in your ‘Single-dom,’

May it be a kingdom filled with

Joy, Independence and Tranquility!

Who needs an excuse to celebrate being single?

No one needs one, but it is fun to do so, anyway!

Any excuse for a Party of One!

In case you have forgotten the beautiful and inspirational lyrics of

Lee Ann Womack’s song’s lyrics are written by Mark D. Sanders

and Tia Sillers in 2000.

“I Hope You Dance”

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,

You get your fill to eat, but always keep that hunger.

May you never take one single breath for granted,

God forbid love ever leave you empty-handed.

I hope you still feel small

when you stand beside the Ocean.

Whenever one door closes,

I hope one more opens.

Promise me that you’ll give faith

a fighting chance,

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance,

I hope you dance..

I hope you dance.

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,

Never settle for the path of least resistance.

Living might mean taking chances but they’re worth taking.

Loving might be a mistake but it’s worth making.

Don’t let some hell-bent heart leave you bitter.

When you come close to selling out– reconsider.

Give the heaven above more than just a passing glance,

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance,

I hope you dance…

I hope you dance.

Time is a wheel in constant motion,

Always rolling us along.

Tell me who wants to look back on

their years and wonder where those

years have gone”

(A couple of repeated stanzas and the “I Hope You Dance” repeats.)

If this song isn’t energetic enough, check out Martina Mc Bride’s

song, “This One’s for the Girls.” Of course, you can always rely on

the fun song, even sung by the little Chipmunks’ girlfriends can

be silly to dance to: “All the Single Ladies” by Beyoncé Knowles

and others.

A totally different song, a rowdy and controversial song with

anti-violence message and ending domestic abuse is called,

Independence Day,” sung by Martina McBride. This was not

played on radios because of the difficult subject matter of a mother

fighting back against abuse by burning her family’s home down.

The reason I support this song is due to Martina McBride’s being a

dual spokeswoman for the National Domestic Violence Hotline and

the National Network to End Domestic Violence.

“Independence Day” contains a powerful message for those who are

needing an ‘anthem’ to give them ‘backbone’ to get out of abusive

situations. I like it just to shout out the lyrics, “Let freedom ring!”

 

The Opposite of Romance

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There were Saturday afternoon movies on television where

the brothers got to take a turn choosing the movie. Which

meant; it must be winter! Then, while they were outside

gallivanting in the Spring or Fall, I sometimes wanted to

get ‘lost’ in a movie and dream’ a little.

One of my favorite ‘escape’ movies was called, “Tammy and

the Bachelor,” starring Debbie Reynolds. She played a 17

year old girl, living barefoot along a Mississippi swamp

with her Grandpa, played by Walter Brennan. Along comes a

city ‘folk’ handsome man named, Leslie Nielson. You can

just guess what transpires!

There are four ‘Tammy’ movies, if you wish to indulge in

plots that resemble cotton candy spun into tales of love

and romance. I adored these, along with the old black and

white “Thin Man” movies. These were about a wealthy

married couple but enjoyed playing detectives. Myrna Loy

plays a rather ‘spunky’ wife, with William Powell as her

debonair husband. This comedy-romance movie spun off

into quite a collection of films.

Today’s post could not be written on Tuesday or Wednesday,

since I really had a debate with myself. I was unsure

what you would consider about my thoughts about the recent

debacle on a silly show called, “The Bachelor.”

I mean this week is “Brain Awareness Week” and what am I

doing writing about a show that most probably consider

‘mindless drivel?’ Pretty ironic!

I would be remiss if I didn’t say that I had watched the

Bachelor show, observing dating in its most unnatural

habitat. How could I have a witless dating after fifty

blog and not have some comments to ‘weigh in with?’

Although the ancient, and almost extinct, patterns

depicted in this season’s show were amusing, they also

had some alarming warnings.

The Bachelor, Juan Pablo, has become fairly infamous

in the past two days. Besides there were many people

who had purposely watched the season. I can only

imagine women cringing behind their pillows, gritting

their teeth every time he said such surface-oriented

compliments.

On the show, I noticed there were few women who even

noticed his very shallow dialogue and subject matters

in their conversations. Almost all seemed to get big

grins on their faces, while we watched him ingratiate

himself with such comments as,

“You are so sexy!’

“You are the most beautiful woman.”

“You look pretty today.”

or, using his Spanish, “Ay, ay, ay!” (Meaning ‘Oh, my!’)

It happened to be the Final Rose Ceremony and the

episode that usually ends with a marriage proposal.

Lots of current hype about the show, the shocked

silence in the studio audience. The stunned host,

even, shaking his head.

Either you caught the different wild stories on

the entertainment news or you may have already

seen a cover story about Juan Pablo. He pocketed

the diamond ring that he had us all focus in on

while he chose this with the Lane Jewelry man

who makes his periodic appearance, when the final

show is approaching.

When Juan is about to tell Claire, one of the two

final women left on the show, that she is not his

heart’s desire, she figures it out. She had already

insinuated that he had made a major rude ‘under the

radar,’ (possibly crude) statement to her on their

‘island date.’ As they were disembarking from the

plane, while no microphones would pick up his not

so nice comment, which threw Claire through a loop.

She made a big deal about that she had expected a

different kind of ‘sweet nothing’ whispered in her

ear. We can just imagine.. He was, according to Claire,

‘crude.’

On their final night together, Juan had persuaded

Claire to soften her heart. He was giving promises and

espousing future plans of their having babies together

and raising his daughter, Camilla. She had decided she

loved him, would ‘forgive’ his faux pas and was ready

to get engaged to him.

I think, after all these years, I had a sick to my

stomach feeling. A deja vu moment. I saw myself, talking

myself into accepting what most, including my parents,

would consider ‘unacceptable behavior.’ This happened to

me!

I felt compelled to write this, thinking that it may

save one person from this foolish mistake. To cover

a television show that I do feel within the realm of

my interests and studying dating patterns. Little did

I realize the ‘reality show’ would open up my memories

of a bad situation.

When Juan did not ask Claire, but told her that she

was not the one he loved, she let him have it. That

she would not take a hug, she put her arms out and

with a firm (and not bitchy voice) said that she would

not want to marry him nor wish to have any children

with him. She felt sorry for the one who would be

part of his future life. (This is the gist of Claire’s

final ‘stand,’ I am sure there are videos of this

episode, if you wish to get the juicy details.)

So, the final night with the second girl did not

go too smoothly either. Nikki had written Juan a

very heartfelt letter, professing her love for him.

She had already told him once before and she also

(like Claire) had been one of three girls to take

Juan ‘home with them.’

Nikki is saddened that Juan does not say any sort of

answer to her thoughts, her question being, ‘Do you

love me?’ This final night, she cries because she

is unsure of his answer.

Unless you have been living under a rock, or hate this

sort of thing, (hopefully you stopped reading awhile ago.)

Nikki was not given a ring nor asked to get married, by

Juan. Nikki, again, tells Juan she loves him and has

enjoyed every moment together…

Juan tells her he is not going to ask her to marry him

until he ‘is very sure’ or that he is ‘100% sure.’

Then when she has poured her heart out once again, Juan

says these words:

“I like you a lot.”

Seriously!

One smart man, Sean, who chose a great partner, in

Katherine (or Catherine) is in the studio audience

watching along with two other couples and a full

room. Three couples have followed the procedures,

kept the pattern or formula of finding their partners

and gotten married.

Sean says a wise statement,

“Isn’t this like biting the hand that feeds you?”

He is astounded that even on the “After the Final Rose

Ceremony,” Juan is not able to say he loves Nikki nor

if or when they will get married.

Lots of red flags have gone off, in my own head, during

the course of this particular Bachelor’s season. Juan is

able to kiss and do more with some, but says to others,

“Out of respect for my daughter, I will not kiss all the

women.”

He chose to go out into the ocean with Claire, where it

looks in the moonlight, like they are making out. Possibly

more.

The next day, Juan gave HER a lecture about disrespecting

his daughter, making her feel bad that she had ‘enticed him

into there.’ Presumably, they did more together that night

than he had planned. She was half of the equation and yet,

he doesn’t say he is sorry. No, he places the blame on her!

If I were a pediatric nurse, as Nikki is, I would have

used my mind and my intuition to pack my bags really

early on. Looking back at the season’s shows, maybe she

still will walk out.

Here are my quick words about the girls that stayed,

once Juan’s behaviors became questionable:

Have you been brainwashed?

Have you not been out on a date for quite awhile?

Are you desperate?

Did you get ‘caught up in the moment’ and possibly

got into a competitive spirit… which explains why

you didn’t care that Juan is not the ‘brightest

bulb on the Christmas tree?’

Have you ever heard of Stockholm syndrome? Were you

held against your will?

This season’s Bachelor show did not do well in the

producer’s choice in a man to follow the guidelines.

The parents, during the family ‘hometown visit’ had

been saying that Juan doesn’t always know who to

choose, is immature and also, that he is egotistical.

I see Juan trying to come off as nice and easygoing,

while showing a lot of control and forethought into

his actions.

During commercials the week before this Final Rose

Ceremony program, they called this, “The Most

Controversial Bachelor Show Ever!”

I would call it the show that held women back in time,

to when they were not able to make their own choices.

It was a ‘throw back’ to the giddy, but sweet, movies,

like “Tammy and the Bachelor.”

Too bad it did not have the lovely innocence or

sentimentality needed in a truly romantic show.

November Ups and Downs

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The “Up” part of my post is all about the wonderful Macy’s Thanksgiving

Day Parade! I love this fun experience, watching the crowds, and getting

in the seasonal celebratory “mood” and seeing the floats!

The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade started in 1924. Wow! A long

history, where it wasn’t all captured on television, either! The main

attractions in those original years were circus animals, some wild

animals from the Central Park zoo and Santa Claus at the end of the

Parade! Three years after the Parade started, hot air balloons were

introduced. Over the years, this has become quite the exciting feature,

to see the wide and interesting variety of floats.

How many years have you sat and smelled the turkey roasting in the

oven, having prepared or help to prepare the fancy “fixings” or maybe

set the table and glanced to see the Parade? I think I saw them for 10

years of my life, either at my parents’, aunt and uncles’ or grandparents’

house. It usually kept the three of us, particularly my busy, rowdy

brothers from ‘under foot.’

The awesome “news” this year will be that there will be four new floats

and the Cirque du Soleil will perform on the streets of New York City!

The 37th time that Snoopy (Charles Schulz’s creation) will appear~ in a

new balloon!

I will be celebrating Thanksgiving at my brother and sister in law’s home,

taking Mom from her apartment over in the car, carrying pies and ice

cream. We usually have a couple of cans of real whipped cream to spray

on top, too.

My son, his wife and four children will be waking up at Susan and Rich’s

home, probably designated to Randy’s charge, the uncle who loves to play

games and last time, two years ago, carted down the Lincoln Logs and the

other “old-fashioned” toys from their attic.

We will make memories, take photographs, talk seriously, since we are a

family of ‘debaters’ on education and politics. We may finish with a trip to

the park, since the kids need to have some outdoor exercise to get their

energy out!

Before the excitement and happy occasion of Thanksgiving, one week

and fifty years ago, we will have memorials and tributes to our famous

President John F. Kennedy’s assination. The PBS Channel has had

one special (called, “Cold Case JFK”). Some of the investigation and

interview shows have mentioned this terrible, devastating day in our

country’s history.

Many of our older fellow bloggers lived through this day and the ensuing,

following horrible moments.

The Smithsonian Channel has the tragic day recounted through a series

of interviews, with eyewitnesses. It is called, “The Day Kennedy Died.”

This includes rare and rarely seen photos and footage.

It was all filmed in black and white.

It was a day that many before 9/11/2001 considered “The Worst Day in

My Life.”

On November 22, the somber reality is, we will be remembering,

thinking back to a sadder time. We won’t be able to get past it without

wondering why such things happen in this world.

For me, it was one week after my eighth birthday party. I was in school

when it happened.

I don’t remember getting on the bus, knowing it happened that day.

I just remember not going to school for a few days, sitting and seeing

Jackie Kennedy holding her husband’s head in her lap.

Seeing the adorable children, Caroline and who we called “John John”

at the funeral will always be firmly in my memory bank as a very sad event.

Also, little “John John” saluting the casket as it passed; another tear-jerking

photograph. Also, caught on video to see over and over again, following

this day.

Did you know three days after his father, John F. Kennedy, died that his son

turned 3 years old? How was that birthday occasion “celebrated,” I wonder?

What a somber thought.

He was born on November 25, 1960. I don’t think I had known that or I had

forgottne that sad thought.

I hope that you will share a moment of your memory of that day or week the

JFK was shot. It was certainly a shot heard round the world. (Or shots,

if you want to be technical.) I still have no opinion about the conspiracy

theory or if there were accomplices. I am just saddened that people

could be so mean, so selfish, so misdirected,  so crazy, so demented…

to want to kill someone that had not done anything personally to effect

them.

I will remember that day, always.

I will remember the best days of  John Fitzgerald and Jacqueline

Kennedy’s better, happier days, considered “Camelot” by many.

Then, I will move forward and be thankful for my family, friends,

and the way my life has gone, so far.

I will count my blessings.

Where were you on that fateful Friday November 22, 1963 just past

lunchtime?

If you weren’t born, did your parents share any of their memories?

If you are in another country, does anything come to mind that you

would like to share?