Embrace The Suck

If you haven't already been there, please go to Qn. Dani's blog to read more on why. I really have no idea what a guru is or does. Aren't they wizened old men who dress minimally but wear a rather large turban on their heads? Only because I've read Eat Pray Love do I even have an inkling of what an Ashram is. None of those images would describe the one person whom I would choose to be my guru or spiritual mentor. Qn Dani isn't wizened, but she's wise. She doesn't wear a turban, unless maybe it's purple and she's feels like dolling herself up. She may fast on occasion, but you can usually find her with a cup full of hot Starbuck's coffee nearby. You don't have to sit at her feet to listen to her and feel closer to the Creator. All you have to do is read her blog, or visit her store, or look at her heart, or talk to her on the phone, or see her smile, to know that she is a walking/talking angel who can reach out and touch you just by sayin...

Sophia Perez Rest in Peace, little one. My stomach has hurt most of the day. I want to blame it on the shrimp I ate last night, but I think it's probably more than that. I'm sad. Very sad. Sad right there at the core of my being. Believing in a Power greater than myself doesn't mean I won't feel the gamut of human emotions. After a 4 1/2 month fight against all odds, Sophia lay in her mommy's arms then crossed over to sit in the lap of her Creator. No more needles and tubes. No more respirator. No more tests and people poking her tummy. Hard as it is to accept that she did not survive, it's very easy to imagine her with the angles and "doing Jesus" for real. I can't imagine how her family is feeling today. For as long as Sophia has been sick, her entire extended family, has been praying. Sleeping a little, eating a little, but always praying. Last week I attended a prayer vigil for Sophia. I admit I did not know what to expect. Knowing I would be...

Abou Ben Adhem By James Henry Leigh Hunt Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, And saw, within the moonlight in his room, Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, An Angel writing in a book of gold: Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, And to the Presence in the room he said, "What writest thou?" The Vision raised its head, And with a look made of all sweet accord Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord." "And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so," Replied the Angel. Abou spoke more low, But cheerily still; and said, "I pray thee, then, Write me as one who loves his fellow men." The Angel wrote, and vanished. The next night It came again with a great wakening light, And showed the names whom love of God had blessed, And, lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest! The clock's digital numbers broke the darkness. 4:30am. It was still dark outside. Not a ...

I'm barely awake. I spent part of the night with dad looking for little flat pens to put into envelopes that weren't there. At times he was certain what he was looking for was in his bed so we had to be very careful that we didn't push it off onto the floor. At other times he was clear as a bell and laughed to think how crazy the whole scene was. "What a way for an old man to die," he laughed, "to drive him crazy." I knew there was nothing there, that he was dreaming, but when he said if it drops into the pee-filled bedside commode I'd be the one to reach in to get it, well, I did pause for a moment! Dad smiled at the idea of Miss Smarty Pants not being so sure of herself. Finally, convinced that the envelopes were not there, he crawled back under the covers and went to sleep. But not before asking me to write down all these stories and put them together for him. Hmmm, how does one weave together a tale of 1/2 fried chickens, a new uniform for the ...

Since I haven't posted in a few days I thought I'd use this time when the house is blessedly quiet, except for the dog snoring, to jot down some Random Thoughts. 1. Do you remember watching old timey western movies? Invariably there was a scene where someone got in trouble and needed help fast. Against all odds a wagon train would circle around to fend off a band of painted and whooping Native Americans. I'd sit on the edge of my seat, my hand full of popcorn frozen in space halfway to my mouth as a bronzed warrior found a helpless woman, or a child or a dog hiding under an heirloom quilt. With war club suspended in mid-air, the sound of a bugle and roar of horse hooves would be heard as the cavalry charged in from over the hill. Ah, saved by the men in blue. Well, my sister wasn't wearing blue, and she didn't fly in on her umbrella like Mary Poppins, but she did arrive this morning to spend some time with my father. Even when I didn't even know I was feeling s...

"Friendship multiplies the goodness of life." Balitasar Gracian (1601-1658) I have a friend I haven't mentioned in awhile. My focus has been on either my father or me. Still, no matter what, my friend is always there, waiting in the wings to listen, hold me, dry my tears, deal with my bitching, laugh at my outrageousness, share his Wavy chips with me and remind me that I am not alone. On top of all that my friend is [mostly] patient with my father, biting his lip so not to scream at Dad driving his Jazzy wheelchair into every wall and doorway between the kitchen and the other end of the house. While it is not quite a touchy feel-ly relationship, it is respectful on both sides. On his way to the bathroom at night, my friend always stops in the doorway to Dad's bedroom to make sure everything is okay, that Dad is still breathing. My friend is probably the most committed Guardian ad Litem there is in this neck of the woods. The kids he works for/with are lucky to have h...

So there we all are: John, Wendy, Shannon, Bonnie MacDougal, Jim and me, stuffed in a car. Our destination turns out to be a Disney kind of place. There are big - BIG- screens and stages in the middle of an arena - surrounded by seating sections. Somewhere along the line we pick up a strange man (no name, no face). Everyone is in the back seat of the car, the stranger in the front. My purse has spilled out in the driver’s seat, covering it with an assortment of pencils, pens, paper clips and a wrapped tampon. I wave off any comments made - I’m known for a variety of items in my purse that could rival the check out counter at Woolworth’s. We all have tickets to get in, except the stranger. He buys his own with cash. I am told we must pay an additional $48.00 fee even though we’ve pre-purchased tickets. A credit card won’t be accepted and I have no cash. After some discussion and appealing looks, the cashier says she’ll waive the fee. I’m filled with relief. I smile at her and ask h...

Sometimes pictures say what words cannot. Ashley and Grampy Ashley and Johnson Johnson, Grampy and Ashley Wishing for you the people who make you smile, Merry ME

"Because time itself is like a spiral something special happens on your birthday each year; the same energy that God invested in you at birth is present once again." Menachem Mendel Schneerson It's hard to believe that a whole year has passed since we welcomed two little babies into the world. But it's true. Elliot and Alice Wichansky turned ONE today. What seems like it was only last month to ME probably feels like 100 years to E and A's mom and dad. A baby's first year is full of the wonderment of new life - experiencing all sorts of things for the first time. It is also fraught with sleepless nights, diapers too numerous to count, breast pumps and bottles, projectile vomiting, tears, vaccinations, runny noses, and if you live in the NW countless putting ons and taking offs of many-zippered snow suits. Now double that for twins. Whoowee! I get tired just thinking about it!. Most of you already know I am a true believer in birthday celebrations. I think eve...

A couple of days ago, after Dad had a few hallucinations and mid-night pee calls I was ready for a break. Sweetie was home to guard the fort so I sped off to my favorite shut-out-the-world-place - Barnes & Noble. I knew I was on a time clock but I didn't let that bother me. I just soaked up the yumminess and splendor of the store. There is nothing like laughing at the noise and confusion of kids singing in the Children's department; renewing myself in the music section, test-driving CD's with serene titles like, "Music for Meditation, Healing & Inner Peace" by Steve Halpern, "Spiritual Healing" by Deuter, and the one I settled on, "Zen Breakfast" by Karunesh; and tickling my reading fancy with all the "NEW" titles filling up the tables by the front door. My quest was for something to read before falling asleep at night. I was looking for a suspense story. Something to get caught up in so I didn't want to put the book down....