Holiday Findings

Last day of work holidays and I have found many things about myself:

1- I do talk to myself out loud on a regular basis. Should be talking to God.

2- No Peter Fox while driving. I have a tendency to think Fast and Furious.

3- I can cook bloody well ( even my POPCORN is amazing) (so is my Milkshake...)

4- I can only make my bed when I'm working (as in NOT on holiday.)

5- I love my dogs more than ever. And my cat!

6- If I believed in reincarnation, I'd believe I was a fish on my latter past life.

7- I love my pajamas!

8- As much as I deny it, I need chocolate to survive.

9- I do like all sorts of crappy music - I like good music too! I like MUSIC, period.

10- I'm not so sure I'd work if I was a millionaire anymore...

Still Mourning...

The last entry was about my sister - the loss of her.

That was many months ago, but I am still mourning, and suspect I shall be for the rest of my days. Our lives have been literally shattered.

Some days are OK, most are horrible, and there is always that feeling she's going to just walk right through the door and say: "I was just pranking you all!"

I wish... I wouldn't even be mad at her, I'd just hug her.

So, I'm trying to move on... I carry her heart with me, I carry it in my heart.

It's not enough...

Universities, tummy tuck, workouts, new hairstyle, new home, new dog, new friends, new loves, new life - a new life that both rocks and sucks.

Why? Why can't we ever have it all?

I know she is much happier, whether she's in heaven, or just sleeping soundly in God's hands. I often pray that if she's sleeping, God may send her dreams of us.

Good, sweet dreams, full of love and affection.

These warm tears running down my face... Her smile and her touch all over this house... The pain of not being able to hear or touch her... The sad mystery of her last days, her last hours... The melancholy, the pain... I want to keep on feeling them, experiencing them all. I don't ever want to forget.

My soul is still in mourning... And it shall be for the rest of my days, until I can meet her again.

2010

According to Wikipedia "2010 (MMX) is a common year that started on a Friday and is the current year. In the Gregorian calendar, it is the 2010th year of the Common Era or of Anno Domini; the 10th year of the 3rd millennium and of the 21st century; and the 1st of the 2010s decade. The United Nations has designated 2010 the International Year of Biodiversity and International Year of Youth."

I started writing this well over a month and a half ago and, to be very honest, I can't even remember what I was going on about in my head. Maybe something like the youth of a new and promising decade, maybe something really hopeful.

It is so funny how 15 minutes changes so many lives forever... How such a short fraction of time can change a whole crowd's inner beings and lifestyles... How sometimes a new dawn brings such a devastating avalanche of events.

Friday, February 5th, 2010 will be a date I will never forget. Unforgettable while disgracefully sad... Part of me, a HUGE part of me, ceased to exist in this world that day. And I can only talk about my pain as a fellow, limited mortal.

I was only 1 when she was born. She came into this world as a special body, for she was born with The Blue Baby Syndrome. Right from the start she beat the odds: everyone who knew what they were talking about claimed she wouldn't last much.

Her chest was opened and invaded at merely 45 days, a trial to repair what was supposedly defective. A "broken heart." "She'll die," they said, "Her journey here is a short one." She refused to.

Once again, at 3, her chest was opened. Once more, profetic predictions poured in: "She's not going to make it..." How wrong were the Mr. Know-it-alls... She made it.

A nearly perfect student, a lively and happy girl, a revolutionary and controversial teenager, a complete woman and lover...

Passionate about any and everything she put her heart into, she touched many lives.

Change for the better arrived everywhere she set foot in, and the truth was nearly always told by her luscious lips.

She survived two open-heart surgeries, innumerous illnesses during childhood, major love deceptions, two university degrees, a master's degree, heartbreaks, sorrows, losses and longings...

Our Sociologist, our nurse, our master, teacher... the union of two breeds and the center of our family. She was US.

And how can I compare this starting decade to those 15 minutes she spent in her bathroom, dying? Her broken heart gave in... How can I imagine even a second without her bodily presence in my life? How can I breathe clearly again? Where is my reason, the guiding voice in my head? How can I go through life without my Sissy, my friend, holding my hand? Why aren't I going to see her brood???

So, for me, 2010 is a hallmark. Not a celebration of youth, but the presence of death. Of pain. I will never, ever, be the same again.

What is it?

What is it that makes a person so inert that they can't even move if the world comes crashing down?

What is it that keeps a person so glued to their seat that they end up losing all feeling in their extremities?

What is it that's powerful enough to make a person numb to even finding someone who can actually make them happy?

What is it that drains all words from a formerly talkative person's tongue and mutes them?

What is it that blackens any and all motivation and feeling?

What is it that brings about such a dark, still calm after so many storms?

What is it that silences even fear?

What is it?

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numb

adj. numb·er, numb·est

1. Deprived of the power to feel or move normally; benumbed: toes numb with cold; too numb with fear to cry out.

2. Emotionally unresponsive; indifferent: numb to yet another appeal.
tr. & intr.v. numbed, numb·ing, numbs

To make or become numb.

[Middle English nome, variant of nomin, past participle of nimen, to seize, from Old English niman; see nem- in Indo-European roots.]

numbly adv.

numbness n.

Word History: Old English had a number of strong verbs (often loosely called "irregular" verbs) that did not survive into Modern English. One such was the verb niman, "to take," later replaced by take, a borrowing from Old Norse. The verb had a past tense nam and a past participle numen; if the verb had survived, it would likely have become nim, nam, num, like swim, swam, swum. Although we do not have the verb as such anymore, its past participle is alive and well, now spelled numb, literally "taken, seized," as by cold or grief. (The older spelling without the b is still seen in the compound numskull.) The verb also lives on indirectly in the word nimble, which used to mean "quick to take," and then later "light, quick on one's feet."

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2009. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

numb [nʌm]

adj

1. deprived of feeling through cold, shock, etc.

2. unable to move; paralysed

3. characteristic of or resembling numbness a numb sensation

vb

(tr) to make numb; deaden, shock, or paralyse

[C15 nomen, literally: taken (with paralysis), from Old English niman to take; related to Old Norse nema, Old High German niman]

numbly adv

numbness n

Collins English Dictionary – Complete and Unabridged 6th Edition 2003. © William Collins Sons & Co. Ltd 1979, 1986 © HarperCollins Publishers 1991, 1994, 1998, 2000, 2003

Thesaurus

Verb

1.
numb - make numb or insensitive; "The shock numbed her senses"
benumb, blunt, dull, desensitise, desensitize - cause not to be sensitive; "The war desensitized many soldiers"; "The photographic plate was desensitized"

Adj.

1.
numb - lacking sensation; "my foot is asleep"; "numb with cold"
benumbed, asleep, insensible - incapable of physical sensation; "insensible to pain"; "insensible earth"

2.
numb - (followed by `to') not showing human feeling or sensitivity; unresponsive; "passersby were dead to our plea for help"; "numb to the cries for mercy"
dead, insensitive - deficient in human sensibility; not mentally or morally sensitive; "insensitive to the needs of the patients"

3.
numb - so frightened as to be unable to move; stunned or paralyzed with terror; petrified; "too numb with fear to move"
afraid - filled with fear or apprehension; "afraid even to turn his head"; "suddenly looked afraid"; "afraid for his life"; "afraid of snakes"; "afraid to ask questions"

Based on WordNet 3.0, Farlex clipart collection. © 2003-2008 Princeton University, Farlex Inc.

numb

adjective
1. unfeeling, dead, frozen, paralysed, insensitive, deadened, immobilized, torpid, insensible, benumbed His legs felt numb and his toes ached.unfeeling feeling, sensitive, responsive

2. stupefied, deadened, unfeeling, insensible The mother, numb with grief, had trouble speaking.

verb
1. stun, knock out, paralyse, daze, stupefy For a while the shock of his letter numbed her.

2. deaden, freeze, dull, paralyse, immobilize, benumb The cold numbed my fingers.

Collins Thesaurus of the English Language – Complete and Unabridged 2nd Edition. 2002 © HarperCollins Publishers 1995, 2002

Rain, rain on my shoulder...

I love rain...

I was once on a plane to Minneapolis, on my way to a wedding, when a valuable lesson was taught to me by a very unlikely person.

You see, it was right after September 11th and everyone's nerves were seriously affected by the horror that had taken place.

Flying was a tense activity, even more so when there were Muslims on the plane.

And lucky as I always am, I sat next to one.

I immediately started feeling anxious.

Prayer was the first thing on my mind.

I tried hard not to move, or stare at him, but, after 15 minutes I just had to take a peek.

He was quiet and had a peaceful look on his face - happy, I should say.

He held a beautiful red and gold book on his hands and I couldn't help but stare at it.

I love books too, you see.

The book was so gorgeous I kept on looking at it, curious to know what it was.

Five minutes later, I just couldn't HELP starting a conversation with him about the whimsical book: "Your book is just about the most beautiful I have ever seen," I remarked.

"It's the Qur'an," he said. "Have you heard of it?"

"Yes I have," said I.

"Don't you just love rain?" he asked, looking out the wet window.

"Not really," I replied.

"This very book says rain is life - that Allah opens the doors of heaven and pours it down to give life. We should never complain about the rain, " he said.

"We send down pure water from the sky. That with it We may give life to a dead land, and slake the thirst of things We have created,- cattle and men in great numbers," he quoted Surat al-Furqan, 48- 49, and winked smilingly at me.

"True," I said, thinking deeply about the beauty and truth of what he had said.

As much as I don't believe the same as he does, being a Christian, that conversation touched me in so many levels.

It made me think about how ungreatful a person I am, and of how I take things for granted.

It made me think of his love and dedication to his faith, and made me feel embarassed about not following mine so fervently.

That man made me see one of God's creation's in a different way, and be thankful for it.

It showed me that the God I believe blesses me in so many little ways, everyday, showing me love, and I am too blind to see it.

To that day, I wasn't so keen on rain, but now I love it, really.

It makes me feel happy and blessed.

I counter-quote my friend with a passage from the book I believe in:

Ezekiel 34:26-27 "And I will make them and the places round about my hill a blessing; and I will cause the shower to come down in his season; there shall be showers of blessing. And the tree of the field shall yield her fruit, and the earth shall yield her increase, and they shall be safe in their land, and shall know that I am the LORD, when I have broken the bands of their yoke, and delivered them out of the hand of those that served themselves of them."

Praise God for rain!

Keep it coming, Lord!

Saturday Afternoon Wanderings

I once was given some handwritten letters from a long-distance flame.

Honestly, the BEST gift ever given to me.

He swore he was a shy writer; that he had never EVER shared his writings with anyone, and that the pieces-of-his-soul-on-paper he was giving me were written for my eyes only.

Being such a literature enthusiast, and the complex hieroglyph of a man he is, I believed him.

Everyday I'd carefully take those scented artisan paper sheets out of their wax-sealed envelopes and read the beautifully-crafted poetry and prose dedicated to my person.

The letters were alive, and would connect my soul to his at a mere glance.

They made me feel things I had never felt before - they touched my soul!

However, as all good things come to an end, so did my brief liaison with the author of the masterpieces.

In the midst of the break-up, without showing any regard to my feelings, he asked me one thing, and one thing only.

He didn't ask me for another chance.

He didn't beg for my forgiveness.

He didn't plead me to love him forever.

He simply asked me not to burn or throw away HIS words.

I was sooooooooo profoundly outraged I couldn't even reply.

I shivered revoltedly!

How dared he call those words HIS???

Had he NOT given them to ME???

Didn't that make them MINE???

I'm not one to avenge things and I do not believe in revenge, but, to this day, that little tempting spark of sinfulness in me keeps telling me to.

I have thought of digging a hole on the ground, throwing the letters in and burning them, camera on hand...

I have thought of sending them back...

I have thought of tearing halves of them, shredding them to pieces and posting them...

I could go on, and on, and on... but I would probably scare away people, so I won't.

The thing is, this afternoon, as I was doing the dishes, I had a thought...

I tried to brush it away but I must confess it's brilliant!

Would it be illegal to show the world those words???

After all, they are MINE to show, are they not?

I have all the proof that they were entitled to me...

There's no copyright and I wouldn't hide his identity either...

I just want everyone to know how good a writer he is...

I think that I should show his words to the four winds...

Marvellous, I'm thinking.

BTW, I'm new at this, so advice is much welcome!

Saturday Morning Resolutions

Spent most of the night wide awake.

No unbearable heat to blame last night - there was actually a very nice breeze coming in through the open window.

The fan was on, muffling some of the downtown noises.

A nice, unexpected, smile-springing text message was sent to my outdated Nokia.

A good deed towards a friend had just taken place.

No tight clothes to cause claustrophobia.

Why the sleeplessness?

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Well, it eventually subsided... and I woke up to a very hot ray of Saturday sunlight on my face.

Revolted thoughts violently zig-zagging through my head.

I've got to do something to get me out of this state of inertia.

Must take control.

Should sleep a little more... but NO!

Up I go, bound to remove from the view all things causing chaos.

Starting on the time-stealing Internetic social network past-time.

Ought to purge virtual life from energy-sucking leeches.

Spring cleaning right at the beginning of my summer.

A few hurdles, but done - check!

Now, must go remove gigantic dead cockroach from kitchen.

Need to wash the 2-day-soaked dishes, vaccum the week-long-dustful floor.

Clean the habitat and the state of mind.

Make this a true Saturday...