Why do I live in a little, bitty house? Why do I drive a rusty, old truck? Why do I have no interest in fashion, hair coloring, or a face lift? Why do I eat right and exercise? Why do I watch the morning news? Why is it, that I can’t wait to get back to Costa Rica?
Because I surf ~ that’s why?
Taking it all in stride, Rooster is working to keep up with our granddaughter’s husband. He’s a tall one. Roo is having the time of his life, telling this walking man, everything he’s ever known about the world of welding. If he wants to be heard he has to shuffle much faster, to keep up with those long legs.
The future looks bright.
My husband came home to be by his father’s side, in his time of need.
Now he finds himself, keeping up with the young, that have their whole life in front of them.
They have a baby on the way.
A new baby is like the beginning of all things-wonder, hope a dream of possibilities.~LeShan
I have felt them all.
We are blessed.
This is an epitaph from a relative’s tombstone. Words that I grew up with. My grandmother, mother and aunt, use to take us to the cemetery, after Mass. I guess, it seemed appropriate to visit the dead, on Sunday.
To walk with head bowed, looking at the dirt and envisioning the emptiness. The nothingness of the after-life. It looked like a weird neighborhood. The tombstones had addresses that were years; one – to the other. The personalities living on in quirky sayings, that haunted me in the week.
I took those words to heart. How was I to prepare for death?
Was I suppose to get right with Jesus. To walk and talk like him. Did I need to travel to the desert? Because it sure seemed difficult to be like Jesus in the sixties and seventies. I desperately looked for him in churches, but I only wound up pregnant.
I didn’t know. I just didn’t know.
I took this photo ~ seconds after death. I probably only caught a reflection from the light bulb. Or is it?
When I first saw the image, I knew it was the illumination of a soul, lifting, and rising out of the body.
Our souls never die. They can’t. They are energy and energy cannot die.
We are our consciousness and that is what creates our lives.
And then we die to live.
Everything that I was looking for was in me. But I had to walk my path, like the Buddha, searching for the bull. I walked and ran and fell down sometimes, when all along, the bull was behind me, following, in my shadow.
I’ve witnessed death, and come to believe ~ it’s bigger than our earthly birth.
“You never know how much you really believe anything until its truth or falsehood becomes a matter of life and death to you.” C.S. Lewis
2. He loves my wrinkles.
3. He takes good care of me.
4. He’s cute.
5. He supports me in my endeavors.
6. He is good to my family.
7. He always makes sure I have a car that runs.
Thirty-one years ago, I met this man. No one else compares. Another thirty-one years would be great.
He’s a KEEPER….
It’s nine o’clock on a Sunday. It’s beautiful weather out-for here. Never mind that my nose is suffering from the chemically polluted air. My nose works hard to protect me; to save my life.
I work hard to protect me; to save my life.
I recently read Uncle Tom’s Cabin. What a good book. I cried. I cried hard. The characters became important to me. I wanted them to live-to survive-to overcome the evil, atrocities of their everyday existences.
Faced with being separated from his family, due to circumstances beyond his control, Uncle Tom accepted. He put his faith in Jesus, and a life beyond. He had faith that Christ was the answer.
This is not what I want to write, a commentary on Uncle Tom; Little Eva, Prue and Aunt Chloe. I do-but it has the feeling of being off track. Not about the devout spirituality; in that I am in agreement. What else is there. I want to tell you about Mama Cheri’s Cabin.
My place is small. In a small town, on an island, in the deep south. I live in a neighborhood of mixed cultures. They have become the culture. MIXED. A few white, mostly blacks and a lot of Latin people, of different nationalities. Everyone calls the the Latinos, Mexicans, because “they” think everyone who speaks Spanish is Mexican. “They” don’t even consider Puerto Rico, El Salvador or Uruguay as a country of origin.
My casita, is representative of my life. It’s cozy, colorful and convenient. It has all that I need. I take care of my cabin, and my cabin takes care of me.
I too am separated from my family. It has taken some getting use to. What are you going to do?
When my mother passed away, there was an inheritance. Need I say more?
We were the Family at War. Sibling rivalry emerged. Looks, money, land, favoritism, jealousy, resentment, control, anger, hate and more, boiled in the cauldron of competition. It was an uncivil war that no one would win. Yes, some might have gotten ahead materially. But at what cost?
My daughter was a casualty. But was she really? That battle was lost when she was born.
Upper cuts and friendly fire, tore our lives apart, from the onset.
So as a survivor, I will keep my nose clean. Uncle Tom is a mentor, a hero in my life.
I will breathe the fresh air of a Higher Power. The one that I call God.
A family that drinks together stinks together. A family that prays together, stays together.
My family comes in all sizes, shapes and colors.
My cabin is my mother.
Mama Cheri’s Cabin ~ There’s no Place Like Home ~ and Home is Where the Heart Is ~ In My Cabin
* This is posted without links to Uncle Tom’s Cabin, any of the novels characters, or The Family at War. WordPress is always throwing curve balls at me. The same as life in general. It has a new system for posting and linking. It has been discouraging to me. But that is part of the original intent of my blogging. To work with my computer, beyond Facebook. So, I am posting anyway. It’s like when I learned to paint. You don’t want to paint one painting, for the rest of your life. Call one done and move on.
If I were the boss, I would not allow anyone to see a doctor, for any illness, that would result in a patient taking Cymbalta, Prozac, Zolaf or any of those other psychotropic drugs…A person should be able to meditate and exercise, and over time relieve their anxieties and depression. It’s in the BIBLE. There’s no need to experience these things. God’s got it.
As a matter of fact, doctors are just not necessary, except in emergencies or if there is a problem.
All of this probing and exploratory exams are outrageous and an offense on the temple of God, which is your body.
So, quit eating at fast food places. The food is trash! Exercise daily! Not just walking, but lift some weights for your muscles.
Eat foods that are NOT processed.
I left a piece of bread on top of my refrigerator, and was gone for months. When I returned it was still there. Not one bit of mold or decay.
Do squats! That is how you will keep your colon healthy.
Have peace of mind, by having faith in God. Do not gorge yourself on the table scraps of the medical industry, the insurance fat cats and the politicians and lobbyist that grease the pot.
Stay away from doctors….
Now go forth my child and live like “the lilies of the fields.”
If this sounds crazy to you, so be it.
I’ve gotta get out of here and back to Costa Rica, where things make sense to me.
To me. Would you like for this to be your stove. Probably not. Would you want to live in a five hundred square foot house. Probably not. Would you really want to leave your culture behind and learn another language to survive. Probably not. Would you be OK with an occasional snake or scorpion in your house. Probably not. Would you drive a thirty year old car and work to keep it running, on outrageously rough roads. Probably not.
My life is nice. Because I’ve made it nice, for myself. I’ve worked hard to be where I am, in my casita, by the sea. I’ve sacrificed a lot.
The point is ~ enjoy your own life. Be where you want to be. If you don’t like where you are. MOVE! Quit complaining and whining, and acting jealous.Do something.
If you think that my life has been easy, think again, my friend.
I rarely experience envy. Because I like my life and I stay busy creating it, with the help of God, who makes all things possible.
If I feel envy, it’s a twinge here and there, when I see happy families. I never had one.
And even, with that, I have to open my eyes to the people who God puts in front of me.
If folks would put as much energy into having a good life, as they do comparing themselves to others, it would be a different world.
You can have your big house, big car, status job, big boat….
Surf or Die!
I’m screaming ~ It’s your CHOICE!!!!!!!