Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Valentine's Day and Long married couples?

Do long married couples celebrate a Valentine's Day? Or is it just another overblown holiday promoted by the card/flower industry? Hype or is there a real feeling behind the holiday? We have not "celebrated" a Valentine's day in years and you know, I am shocked to say this old momma would actually like a flower or card from her hubby. It would be nice, to have that surprise element that newly "infatuated lovers" expend on each other. For years, I told him, it didn't matter...I worked for a card company and I know how programmed and commercialized the simple Sweetheart's day has been made into this huge production. I know you love me, you don't have to spend what we don't have to prove a point. What happened to the simple time spent with your loved one? I know no one should not have a "programmed" date to express your love. There are moments in life that no flower or card on a single day could triumph over the every day. A husband who makes the coffee each and every morning, even though some days he forgets how many scoops he put in the brewer and you could be drinking dishwater or grow-hair-on-your chest coffee. But, except for hospitalizations, this man has brought you a cup of coffee each and every morning for almost thirty years. That is a symbol of true love. I've had romance, I've had been alone, and nothing compares to knowing someone so intimately and loving them beyond the roadblocks and potholes in your road of life. We are a couple and that is that!
But I am woman enough to say, I'd love a rose! I'll make the man his favorite pot roast dinner and let him watch Wheel of Fotune and Jeopardy undisturbed. His idea of a perfect Valentine. LOL

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

The Cab Ride

"Resolve to be tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving, and tolerant with the weak and the wrong. Sometime in your life you will have been all of these." ~ Dr. Robert H. Goddard Posting a copy of an email that has been circulated before. It is still worth the read and a moment of reflection. I am not proud of myself today. I was very upset with hubby today. He let a stranger into our house to nose around and look at things on the flimsy premise that our dog had gotten loose. He let her wander around while he went room to room to find the dogs. He doesn't comprehend how he should not do this under any circumstances. I know he is lonely all day, but he can't seek the companionship of a stranger. He does not always think of the consequences of his actions. I was very vocal in my displeasure and I'm not proud of my words. Harsh words can not be unspoken. I have to marvel at the progress he has made since the seizures and the strokes and there are moments when his words come out all wrong. For instance, he asked me where to put the bag of "fire rocks"? "Fire rocks?" Oh, you mean the charcoal....please put it in the garage, dear. It is better than him grunting and pointing which is what I had to interpret a few months ago. So, while my words were not acceptable, my apology was very sincere.
Please take a few minutes to peruse the CAB RIDE. I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I walked to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware. 'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.' 'Oh, you're such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive through downtown?' 'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly.. 'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice. I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice.. 'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. 'What route would you like me to take?' I asked. For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired. Let's go now'. We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. 'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse. 'Nothing,' I said. 'You have to make a living,' she answered. 'There are other passengers,' I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly. 'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' She said. 'Thank you.' I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.. I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one. PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID ~BUT~THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.

Friday, February 3, 2012

The SOG City Oracle: Santorum: Holy Man Of The Froth

The SOG City Oracle: Santorum: Holy Man Of The Froth

As a parent of a special needs child, I find Rick Santorum to be repulsive and unworthy of a presidential run. Any man willing to exploit his family issues to further a Republican cause is a sad individual. I have walked the walk and talked the talk as the advocate for a child with no voice, legs or arms. You can not tell me what is best for this child without walking a mile in my shoes. Santorum and Palin are the worst kind of "exceptional" parents, they are only invested in the art of promoting an abusive Republican agenda. It saddens my heart to see the low depths a man will sell his soul to reach a political office. Where is the integrity of office and service to your constituents? I agree with you Jon, there is a special hell for those like Santorum and while we may not witness it, I know he will be held accountable for his actions.