One of my favorite words is “beginning” because it conveys strength and hope. In the beginning everything is shiny and new. We’re brimming with good intentions and lots of can do attitude.
Beginning, again, is what our bodies do without our conscious awareness. With each new breath we refresh our brain and our other organs. It’s part of what God thoughtfully set in motion when He created man in His own image, and it’s one of the keys to our survival. Continue Reading
There are a number of ways to reduce your pain, ranging from hard core narcotics to rest and everything in-between. We’re all aware of the dangers of prescription narcotic use, but most of us don’t think we’ll ever have a problem, and many of us think we don’t have a problem…when we do.
Some patients have a predisposition to drug and alcohol addiction. I’m not talking about those patients. A few doctors are supplying drug users/sellers with narcotic scripts for profit. Not talking about them, either.
May brings a time when we think about Mother’s Day. Some of us have warm memories of a mother who nurtured us from newborn to adulthood. She loved unconditionally, disciplined firmly and taught valuable life lessons from how to do laundry to how to love. The older we get, the wiser she’s become, and we are so grateful for the role model she was.
For others, Mother’s Day is tough. There are “unmothered daughters,” raised by mothers who were absent, abusive, or narcissistic. There are women who’ve battled infertility or miscarriage, and some have longed to be a mother but have yet to find the right husband. There are women who’ve become content as doting aunts and others who’ve poured out their motherly love through volunteering.
As long as the Rollings Stones continue performing, I’ll continue going to their concerts. The first time I saw the Stones, it was their second U.S. performance, June 6, 1964, at Teen Fair in San Antonio, Texas. I was there–by myself–to see Bobby Vee and Paul Peterson from the “Donna Reed” show. As far as the Rolling Stones go, you might say I’m a pioneer; one of the first. They changed my life but Paul Peterson? I don’t remember much about him.
This September I’m going to see the Stones again—by myself—only this concert is in Lucca, Italy.
I have supported the Aids Memorial from the very beginning because what is remembered, lives. My generation of hair stylists, makeup artists, models, photographers… Everyone was affected by AIDS.
I knew I was at risk.
Regardless of where we are in life, we all have stories that have played in our heads since childhood. I’m not talking about fairytales and fantasies but our version of our life. Notice I said “version” because your viewpoint may be different from your parent’s or sibling’s. In some respects we make sense of our life through our stories… our history. Take my mother, for example. Whether she was talking about the past, present or future, mother always chose to paint herself as the victim.
She didn’t know it, but her stories played a major role in the stories I told myself and who I became.
I was borrowing a cup of sugar from my neighbor down the street and noticed that in her dining room, she had artfully stacked books on the table and chairs. The volumes belonged to her parents, both of whom who had passed away. As my friend was sorting through the estate, the books found a home on the table, and the effect was utterly charming. I had to take photos.
Incidentally, this is why I borrow cups of sugar. And why some friends don’t always answer my ring. Who can blame them? I’m Gladys Kravitz with a DSLR and a tripod. Continue Reading
After every other great vacation I have always been glad to get home. Glad to sleep in my own bed and see all of my “stuff” again. This time was different. It became obvious when we chose to stay another day in Houston, and then chose to spend the night at Lake Georgetown, rather than going directly to our RV garage and unloading from there… We were both stalling.