A daughter of a friend has a unique experience to visit a relative that has performed a significant role in their family's life. Because of the age of this relative and other factors, he does not act as himself. When faced with the decision of visiting this relative, the question is, how will I remember him? He is a better man than the way he may appear, when I look back on this moment and when I look back on my family history, am I going to only think of him in this way?
My answer: visit him. Whether it is a relative, friend, associate, or a complete stranger, nothing can substitute for a visit in the flesh. If possible touch him, grab his hand, feel the smoothness of his skin and the weight of his hand. You choose how you wish to remember people. We decide what factors, what parts of that person's personality we want to remember. We will make judgements whether we want to or not, so decide what kind of judgements you want to make. Decide on your own how you will remember the person. And how you wish to remember a person may very well reflect how people remember you. How you remember a person may reflect your own beliefs, standards, and life of your soul. Savor every moment you can, especially with people who are significant in your life, and decide for yourself how you will remember that person.
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Relevancy
Most things which we believe to be relevant, are not. Part of wisdom is knowing what is relevant and acting on it.
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Interesting Blog
This is a blog of a husband and wife who lost their son after a day and a half of life. They are using this blog to write letters to their son "Jack". Give it a look.
Letter's to Jack
Letter's to Jack
Sunday, April 23, 2006
I have been sitting at my desk for days.
This short piece of writing came to me as I ate breakfast this morning in my sunroom. I carry a blue memo pad around with me everywhere I go just for a few moments of inspiration. I prefer to do my writing at my desk, but when the moment strikes, I must take it. I write everything I can, then at my desk, edit it until I'm satisfied. I hope that you like this piece, there is some meaning behind it, and if you wish to know, email me. I would also like to hear any comments you may have.
I have been sitting at my desk for days. Writing, incessantly writing. Once I began, I could not stop. The music came freely and I could not write fast enough! It was sweet, it was giving; we formed a friendship and as I came to know her, I began to fall in love.
The intimate breath we shared was soft, we knew each other and I did not, could not, stop writing.
All day and all night would I write. Her sweet melodies surrounding me, encompassing me. Our lives were sweet and our love was long.
Then, in a simple moment, the music slowed; she started to show some disrest. The sweet melodies soon faded and dark dissonance started to creep in. I tried to comfort my music, but she would not be comforted. Darker her music became and slower would I write. A depression overcame us.
The coffee mugs and tea cups began to be replaced by liquor bottles. Notes that once dotted and filled pages now became scribbles and scratches amongst blank staves. I pleaded and begged my love to make that sweet music once again. She never did.
My desk became filled with torn and crumpled music that had no sound. Wet drops of my tears stained the ink. I pleaded and cried, but my only hope was these blue-green pills that dotted my desk, among the bottles, stains and dying music. I had lost my love.
I have been sitting at my desk for days and not another note has dropped from my pen. I keep waiting for her to come back, to show me that sweet music once again, but she is lost. I am weak and dare not move, dare not lose what black and white sounds I have before me. The blue-green pills, being the only color I see, will soon disappear, along with my heart that will not beat any more.
I have been sitting at my desk for days. Writing, incessantly writing. Once I began, I could not stop. The music came freely and I could not write fast enough! It was sweet, it was giving; we formed a friendship and as I came to know her, I began to fall in love.
The intimate breath we shared was soft, we knew each other and I did not, could not, stop writing.
All day and all night would I write. Her sweet melodies surrounding me, encompassing me. Our lives were sweet and our love was long.
Then, in a simple moment, the music slowed; she started to show some disrest. The sweet melodies soon faded and dark dissonance started to creep in. I tried to comfort my music, but she would not be comforted. Darker her music became and slower would I write. A depression overcame us.
The coffee mugs and tea cups began to be replaced by liquor bottles. Notes that once dotted and filled pages now became scribbles and scratches amongst blank staves. I pleaded and begged my love to make that sweet music once again. She never did.
My desk became filled with torn and crumpled music that had no sound. Wet drops of my tears stained the ink. I pleaded and cried, but my only hope was these blue-green pills that dotted my desk, among the bottles, stains and dying music. I had lost my love.
I have been sitting at my desk for days and not another note has dropped from my pen. I keep waiting for her to come back, to show me that sweet music once again, but she is lost. I am weak and dare not move, dare not lose what black and white sounds I have before me. The blue-green pills, being the only color I see, will soon disappear, along with my heart that will not beat any more.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
1st Post
Hello everybody. Welcome to my blog. This is the second blog I've actually started, the first one I shut down for various reasons, but this one I plan to keep. I can't say how often I will be posting, I don't care to talk about my personal life, as I see many people do, rather, I'd like to blog about whatever I'm thinking about. I love debating and hearing other people's opinions, thoughts, etc. So feel free to drop a line. I'd love to meet new people online, especially if you have something to say. Eventually I'll have an email address posted in my profile, but for now it's just comments.
If you don't know, I'm very interested in photography, I'm barely an amateur, but I love taking pictures and doing digital touchups, especially with people photography. I'm also a concert composer, though everyone seems to think being a soundtrack composer is the way to go, it's not for me, I'm more for concert music rather than movie music. Anyways, I'll shortly be graduating college with a music degree and then off to graduate school, not sure where just yet, but I am researching.
I love to write both prose and poetry, I'll perhaps be posting some of what I write here, comments always welcome. I like to read fantasy books, mostly Dragonlance and Sword of the Truth series. I also like to read ancient literature, and Shakespeare. As far as poetry, I'll read almost any kind, but I'm very selective as to what I like and what I'll re-read. When it comes to my critique (whether it be poetry, photography, music, etc.) I can be pretty harsh, but I'm certain about the way I feel and realize that it is my opinion and my opinion is not law. If you don't like what I say, great! tell me why. There's more I could say, but that's all for now.
If you don't know, I'm very interested in photography, I'm barely an amateur, but I love taking pictures and doing digital touchups, especially with people photography. I'm also a concert composer, though everyone seems to think being a soundtrack composer is the way to go, it's not for me, I'm more for concert music rather than movie music. Anyways, I'll shortly be graduating college with a music degree and then off to graduate school, not sure where just yet, but I am researching.
I love to write both prose and poetry, I'll perhaps be posting some of what I write here, comments always welcome. I like to read fantasy books, mostly Dragonlance and Sword of the Truth series. I also like to read ancient literature, and Shakespeare. As far as poetry, I'll read almost any kind, but I'm very selective as to what I like and what I'll re-read. When it comes to my critique (whether it be poetry, photography, music, etc.) I can be pretty harsh, but I'm certain about the way I feel and realize that it is my opinion and my opinion is not law. If you don't like what I say, great! tell me why. There's more I could say, but that's all for now.
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