Posts Tagged Under love
Diamonds in the Rough
One night, after our toddler was asleep, I poured wine for my husband, Michael, and me. I told him that I needed more help with Nicholas. I took his hand and explained that I didn’t want to make it sound like he wasn’t doing his part. I knew I dominated taking care of Nicholas, and I wanted to change. I thought I sounded reasonable.
Michael blew up. He jerked his hand from mine and starting pointing his index finger at me. I was bossy and always correcting him. He wanted to do more but got tired of my interfering. But what really bothered Michael, what really upset him, was he felt he’d lost his wife, his lover and his best friend. For two years, he’d watched me disappear with our son. Continue… »
By Marianne LonsdaleMovie Review: Eat, Pray, Love
I loved Elizabeth Gilbert’s book about her adventurous journey to Italy, India, and Bali to discover herself and God, while seeking escape from a suburban life with her husband.
My son was a few years old when I read “Eat, Pray, Love.” Some days the travel bug hit so hard I would find myself with my hand on my heart, nearly gasping for breath as I pushed him on the swing in our fenced-in backyard. I wanted to sell the house so I could travel the globe with my family. And visit an ashram.
In addition to traveling and eating the world’s best pizza, Gilbert was earnestly fumbling toward finding a sustainable spiritual connection. One of my favorite passages in the book was when she finally broke through her inability to meditate and basically experienced what it was like to be in the hand of God. Continue… »
Who’s my favorite?
What exactly is the right answer when one of your children asks: “Who do you love most?” Is there ever a right answer? I love to tell each of my children that of course they are by far my favorite one. That may be the only chance I have that one of them will take care of me in my old age.
But the truth is, I love Daddy best.
There are so many reasons I love my husband more than my children. First of all, I picked my husband. Of course we had to ultimately pick each other but he was the one I wanted. My kids: not so much. With kids you take what you get and hope for the best. While I love my children immensely, I do not always like them. I think of them more as an acquired taste, like anchovies.
Continue… »
Stalking The Future!
It was our first Valentine’s Day. Harry and I had known each other for less than a year. We were young, poor and madly in love. Those were the days when fun was free and easy. Without any little mouths to feed, tuitions or mortgages to pay, the fact that we were broke never cramped our style. Our car was an old Volvo without a properly working clutch. (I know, what was I thinking getting into that vehicle?)
Sometimes when we stopped, we had to get out and push it to get into gear again. It seems unbelievable now, that when we would do this, we would be laughing the entire time. The power of our new young love was as strong and mighty as any superhero! Continue… »
By Gloria SaltzmanThree Decades Later He’s Still My Baby
I must have written to myself a lot as I am going through many old papers such as this one that was written on a typewriter and is almost too faint to read so I copied it onto the computer.
This was written five years after having had groin cancer. During cancer surgery they were supposed to have “cut my tubes” and as result I would no longer be able to conceive. However, in the intensity of a six-hour surgery that required transfusions due to heavy blood loss, they forgot.
I did not discover this fact until two years later when I became pregnant. I chose to not terminate the pregnancy as I was advised to do. The result of this pregnancy has always been an inspiration as I was in a state of heightened awareness and appreciation of all life’s meaning. Continue… »
By Ruth ScottThe Tao of Family Vacations
I can’t imagine a better place to spend my 43rd birthday than Kauai.
I warned my daughter and husband that this was to be a quiet, contemplative trip full of reading, meditation and healthy eating. Mostly because I had been sick with a sinus infection for way too long — and because I had just re-read “Eat Pray Love” and “A New Earth.” I wanted that kind of mind-altering transcendence but I was going to do it on a family vacation right next to the kiddy pool.
Soon after arriving at a Kauai condo, I was unlucky enough to trip and drop an unused compact, shattering the mirror. Thankfully, my daughter Savannah was out at the pool with her Dad and not at my side where she customarily resides. If it weren’t for my unfortunate bout of gastro-intestinal rebellion after the myriad of homeopathic remedies I had been imbibing, she could very well have been hit with a shard of glass.
Lucky. Continue… »
By Robyn MurphyMothers Sing the Most Rockin’ Lullabies
My son loves to hear me sing lullabies.
“Sing to me, Mommy,” his sleepy voice pleads as I sit on his bed, stroking his head. I start my trio of songs, almost carrying a tune. My singing voice is horrible. I can’t hear when I’m off key.
I love music so I don’t think I’m tone deaf, but something’s missing in how I hear the notes. What comes out of my mouth does not at all match what I hear in my head.
But Nick loves my lullabies. Nick loves me.
By Marianne LonsdaleThe Upside
Today is just like any other day in the life of a stay-at-home mom, except today I decided to focus on the positive. I am not a follower of “The Secret” that is basically a well-polished update on an age-old philosophy, but I have used my own brand of “wagon-train” gumption, power of positive thinking to rescue me from some dark days.
Today, I was searching for a way out of the monotony of my own mind, so I pictured what it would be like to manifest the methods that I used to feel good about as a stay-at-home mom in the business environment that my husband lives Monday through Friday.
I pictured him stuck in the cubicle maze of gray walls and computer glare, trapped in meetings at work all day. I imagined him stuck inside the invisible wall created by the need for business-appropriate relationships and I wondered what it would look like if he could use the same tools as I did in my job.
By Jennifer O'ShaughnessyMaria
On a walk last summer, I discovered a note left with some flowers at a park bench. The bench memorialized a neighbor who had died. The note, and I assumed the flowers, were left by the dead neighbor’s widowed spouse. Again, this was something I assumed because the note was a love letter expressing the author’s profound grief, but it was unsigned.
The tribute to the woman moved me deeply and on subsequent walks I noticed that as the seasons changed so did the flowers. There were mums left in the fall, poinsettias at Christmas, shamrocks on St. Patrick’s Day. But there was never another note, never another clue to the identity of the person
who mourned so.
Until today.
By admin
