And I watched, so closely…following the back of her car with my eyes until it disappeared into the sunset. Where had all the time gone? The summer had just begun, now I was facing the end of it…left with bittersweet memories of impromptu road trips and promises made as we toasted our glasses of lavender lemonade. Laughter tickled my earlobes and I broke out into waves of ecstatic emotion…I hope she comes back soon.
Happy Birthday to my heart, my Mom…the woman who is the glue that holds our family together and has since I can remember. Without her, there would be no me…no girls of my own to raise…and so on this special day, her day…I salute her! I love you Mother Dear ❤
I want to share some things that have been happening in my life. First of all, I deleted my Facebook account! I have deactivated my account before and stayed off of it for a few weeks…but I would go back. A couple of weeks ago, I simply deleted it and haven’t turned back. It was time to just go through with it…Things seemed so stagnant for me on Facebook. I honestly felt like I was drowning in a sea of folks whose faces I have never even seen, yet they could see so much of my private life. Yes, it was helpful to have ways that I could control my account, but that’s just it! Facebook was actually controlling my actions subconsciously, more than I felt comfortable with. And I didn’t make the connection until I was fully disconnected from it. Who would notice my absence? What were my days like before I even had an account? I have always enjoyed deep communication, and sharing common interests, it is the stuff of life. I was on Facebook for roughly about ten years. It was fun engaging in conversations with people from all over the world; some which turned into physical friendships and relationships that may have never happened without Facebook.
So honestly, I am thankful for what I gained but I am also observant. You can only squeeze so much juice out of a fruit before it has nothing left, only memories of its sweet nectar. Perhaps I will return but in my own time, and I will start fresh. Facebook wouldn’t be as popular among its users if we took the time to look at our own lives and cherish them. It can be a great deterrent to what is truly important. These days, I am busy getting my writing goals up to par, entertaining more book ideas, gardening, spending time each day giving thanks and checking out other social media platforms. I felt a little sad about my blog posts not being automatically shared via Facebook but then I thought of the new experiences I am destined for. I think about how I have to give birth to a new me; which is timely being that my birthday is very close now.
Often, the biggest decisions are made on the spur of the moment but end up having a great impact on our future. Every minute of our lives counts and how we decide to spend our time is ours to choose. I love that I am growing and changing under the sun; regenerating myself. I didn’t make a big announcement when I decided to delete my account, I just did it. I knew my tribe, my biggest fans, my friends and my heart strings would feel me; even in my unspoken way of going about this. I also didn’t want to impose my decision on others; it was my personal choice and I felt at peace. So that is honestly all that mattered. Cheers!
It is nice to know there is another word out there besides “freelancer, writer, journalist” and such…”scripturient” has an authentic ring to it!…I am already used to feeling so much passion in my words…which is why I write.
I have my mother to thank in many ways for my love of writing…I remember how she kept tons of notebooks, journals, and stationery for just that. We don’t talk much about it and I don’t know if she has ever entertained writing a book. I have shared some of my work with her and she would smile and thank me for sharing. They say writers have the best penmanship and I do believe that to an extent. I had never seen so many loops, twists, curls and just pure fancy as I had with the way my mother writes her words. She makes it look so very beautiful, mysterious and creative; like calligraphy. She also can write in shorthand; which I haven’t mastered that as yet…she would tell me she learned it many years ago and used it when she worked. Perhaps I will share this post with her…and ask her if she has ever heard of the word; scripturient. She is a stickler for learning new words and using them in a sentence…Goodness knows how many words I learned as a child through my mother’s extensive vocabulary. The word “rambunctious” comes to mind as she was always using it with me, and I laughed because of how silly it sounded to my young ears.
I like that I can remember the sweet beginnings of my journey as a writer, the “diary” I had when I turned 11 years old, the stories I wrote for children I babysat, and my beloved poetry. There is passion in words, life-giving affirmation, and beauty. It is a gift when others share their words; one that should be cherished.
I was once out in the ocean in Florida on a blustery day and had not taken too much caution in swimming that day…I waded in the shallow ends, immersing myself as the waves crashed furiously. It happened so fast; I found myself far away from the shore within minutes…I became very frightened when my feet were no longer touching the sand…I looked at the shore, at my babies watching in sheer terror as I seemingly kept floating away…At that moment, though there was literally nothing to grasp; I grasped onto hope…A sense of calm filled my beating heart and I began to swim sideways under the water…I could not go forward, and so I swam like an octopus, in energy filled spurts; wishing for extra legs and swimming like I had them. I had to take brief rest stops so that I would not become exhausted. I felt the fear leaving my soul as I miraculously made it closer to shore…I could hear the cries of my children beckoning me to come closer and I could see their little bodies jumping up and down…Someone came out to meet me in the water to help me walk the rest of the way…
I embraced my children and we connected deeply about what had just taken place…From that day on, I had a most profound shift in respect for Mama Earth; for her deep waters…because for a short moment that felt like forever, I was a miniscule fish that could have been drowned within minutes…I remember to honor Yemaya whenever I visit the ocean especially…she is not to be taken for granted. I honor the water signs and their deep emotions, absorbing their wisdom helps me to grow in my emotions and to be fluid, soft yet consistent in how I flow. They have a strong pull on my heart just as the moon does with the waves of the Ocean…This was a true story; my story of surviving a riptide!! It is also a story of my deep reverence for water and it’s inherent power…Salute ❤
Crystalline waters washing through my soul…I love the gentle nature of water and respect it’s powerful existence…It is soft enough to cleanse my thoughts, yet strong enough to drown anything that dares to stand in its way. I hear them, the waves; colliding against my solid frame, each one calls my name. I become one with her, watching as my body melts into the sand like a shell buried so deep, a special shell to find and keep.
It seems like time stood still for this moment…look at those eyes, staring into my soul, this photo will never grow old…”We see you Mama,” they seem to say…forever etched in my heart, forever in a day…I promise I have pictures of almost every moment in their lives and I treasure them. Some pictures seem to speak out loud when Eye look at them and this is one of them. “Mama, I want to wear my Fall vest!” “This necklace will match my shirt”…Oh, yes, I smile about each moment with precise recollection…My soul is filled with sweetness, like wild honey in my favorite mug of tea…they know me like no one else and I love them like the precious flowers they are…blooming so tall and strong.
I listen when they tell me things…they are wise old souls even though I am the Mama…I learn from them as they teach me…
One day, we will share stories together when they are all grown up and they will feel different then…those same stories that I tell at their request…like my mother does with me…she becomes so animated at what she remembers and what she’s seen in her lifetime. And that is how it goes…share and remember, keep the memories alive and pass them onward so that they will always know how much they are truly loved…
"For your born writer, nothing is so healing as the realization that he has come upon the right word.” —Catherine Drinker Bowen
Supporting Bay Area Families Through Pregnancy, Birth and Beyond
Be Fabolous Today
A memorabilia of my experiences throughout of PLAYING ALONG rather being PLAYED ALONG.
the journey of a poetry
eat - dream - conquer
Sand and salt under my feet, moon over my head. I am an artist living in Florida. Works available at https://www.Society6.com/sandsaltmoon
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I am a footstep on the sands of time, I am an ink mark on an empty paper, without stanzas, without rhymes
The writings of Francis Winifred
love each other like you are the lyric and they are the music
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My poetry is my religion.
I write poetry to express what's on my mind or how I feel
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