Life As I Know It

It’s a hot summer Texas day. The sun is shining brightly and the sky is the prettiest shade of blue and clouds as fluffy as marshmallows fill the horizon. And there I am, sitting on the front porch, watching as my dad tries to teach my niece how to ride a bike. She’s so determined to be able to do it alone but she keeps falling over, and at one point runs right into a tree. And we get up frantically to help her every time but she just puts up her arms in the air and says “it’s okay. It’s okay. Otra ves abuelo”. And they reset and restart again. Over and over again. By the end of the afternoon she’s bruised, scraped, and very tired. But even after all that when my brother gets home she’s determined to show him what she’s accomplished. So she mounts up her bike. And proudly screams “I can do it, I can do it” just as she runs right into the fence and gets hurt. Albert Einstein once said that the definition of insanity is doing something over and over expecting a different outcome. It’s ...

It was a late afternoon, the sun was long gone and the rain was pouring. I was tired and worn out. After a long day at work the drive home seemed endless. Maybe my mind had wondered off or I just wasn’t paying attention but within seconds my car found its way to the other lane. I swerved quickly as bright headlights flashed. There I was on a Monday afternoon, in the pouring rain, at 8 pm, completely spinning out of control. And though the wheel was in my hands I didn’t quite know where I was going. And just before I was about to hit the side rail it all stopped, my car, the sound of screeching wheels, maybe even my heart. I had come to sudden halt right before crashing. I sat there with my eyes closed, shaking from head to toe, slowly I felt my blood rushing back in, and my heart began to beat again. I frantically looked all around me and nothing had really happened. I didn’t crash into anyone, nor made anyone crash into any one else. But if you’ve ever been in a similar situation y...

I’m sitting in the waiting room of my doctor’s office passing the time by listening to music. But as my mind wonders off this woman’s voice, next to me, keeps rising. She is nagging at her husband like we women do. “You forgot to take out the trash. You never help me around the house. I do everything.” --- You know those one way conversations were everything is generalized and exaggerated. At the sight of her husband not responding she asks exasperated - “If I fell off the face of the earth you wouldn’t even notice would you?” “YEAH!” says the man loudly “Hello! You’d be on the news. “Woman who fell off the face of the earth.” I’d be on the news too! “Husband of such said woman”.” At the sound of this she starts laughing. And he gently grabs her hand and kisses it as she tells him she loves him. And I start to think how sometimes we get so wrapped up by life and its daily strain we forget the most important things. The things we so badly try to hold on to in a moment can cease to exist...

I watched as with her hands she wringed the handkerchief in her hand, trying to hold back the tears. “ I feel shattered. In pieces. Like he just took my heart and let it break. And all I can do is sit here asking “what if” for both the future and the past .” I sit there talking to a friend and listening as she’s telling me about how much her first love left her hurt and how the healing seems complicated. My friend finds herself completely jaded by her past relationship. The failure of it left her feeling unsteady, fearful, and a bit drained among other things. Which gets me thinking if every reaction is the same when it comes to failing at love? When given a harsh blow do we lose confidence and gain fear? Are we ever really ourselves again or do we with stand the time by building up walls and dodging the punches? I agree that love is a bit of a contact sport. Just like boxing. At the beginning of a fight both opponents seem to be completely invincible. They go in with total confidence....

I woke up to the sound of rain. I looked outside my window and the sun was gone. I sighed. And in the distance I heard her song. I opened my door and walked right into my mothers arms who was all ready crying. Four years ago today she lost her mother… and I… I lost my grandmother. Later on when I was getting ready my eyes fell across my grandmother’s ring. It's a gold ring with a tourquise stone, old and very worn out. I took it in my hand and put it on. And I just sat there looking at it, thinking and remembering. I closed my eyes and felt something catch my throat, a sudden surge of sadness that caught me unaware, almost taking my breath away. That’s the thing – you never get used to someone being gone. Especially someone you expected to be there forever. Just when you think its okay, when you think it’s reconciled, accepted. Someone or something points it out to you and it hits you all over again, that shocking. Everyone deals with the loss of a loved one differently. My mom l...

Love. I write about it often. I’m no expert in the matter nor do I ever intend to be. I write peoples stories, maybe even sometimes a bit of my understanding or knowledge in the matter. But love isn’t something you can generalize. Its not a one size fits all kind of thing. I guess that’s why you’ll find countless of pieces written about the matter… - “Love. Amour. Amore. Whatever!” She said sighing. “I’m starting to believe love is just a charade, a made up scheme to sell flowers and Godiva chocolate”. - Her friend laughs and says, “No it’s not!” - “I just don’t believe in love anymore. I don’t see how it’ll ever happen.” She says in complete defeat. - Her friend looks at her amused. “Oh, don’t say that. You’ll see, mark my words, you’ll see. It’s when you’ve completely given up that love finds you in the end…” Love is what inspires epic tales, beautiful lyrics, souls to be lost in tales of poetry …and the most bittersweet feeling of human nature. To be in love is a wonder...

I love the sound of rain… maybe not accompanied by thunder and lightning. But nonetheless I love the sound of rain. When I was younger to get through really bad storms I let my imagination wonder. I seriously believed lightning was Jehovah taking pictures, thunder was Jehovah dancing, and rain, during sunlight, was Jehovah’s happy tears. It sounds silly now. But it was those thoughts that got me through some really scary storms. Long ago I had a habit of running out into the rain. Yes, there was once a time that I didn’t care if my new satin pump stilettos would get mud, that my straight hair would go wavy and frizzy. Or that I might get sick, or ruin dry clean clothes. Then again I was 5, make up or the way I looked wasn’t a priority and I’m pretty sure nothing happens to leather patented Mary Jane shoes. My mom would have a fit, like any mother would. But if I was at my grandmothers, she’d go right out with me. She embraced every crazy idea of mine. Have you ever danced in the rain? ...