Surviving

   

Sometimes just getting through the day is an achievement.

 

As a child, life often seems tough – we can’t quite physically do what our older sibling, cousin or schoolmate does.

 

As a teenager, everything is tough. We deal with life, friends, family all under the impulse of wildly swinging hormones.

 

As a young adult we struggle: again friendship, first, or permanent loves, putting a foot into the working world – or studying on in the hopes of achieving one’s life’s dream of becoming a doctor, a lawyer or any other profession taking years of studies, of concentration of “keeping one’s eyes on the goal”.

Then comes the middle years and the reponsbilities of not only jobs, but of spouses, children, aging parents, a fast-changing world. Of trying to foresee and prevent catastrophes, then having to deal with them anyway.

 

Then, all of a sudden, the career is 10 or 20 years old, the kids are starting to leave home, the spouse and oneself coming back together, or growing further apart due to the years, the attitudes, changes.

And then there’s the big leap into retirement, or not as more and more work well beyond. All of a sudden, if one retires, life is again kind of free, until the children marry, and start their own families.

Then the real worries begin: those of an ill spouse, those of those beloved grand children. Or the death of one’s parents, a sibling, close friends.

 

But, would I have it any other way: no! Life is worth living: sometimes, at the end of the day it is enough to have simply survived.

 

 

 

Circles of Friendship

 My life has had so many coincidences, so many friends or friends, friends of family, friends of... that it has been rich.

Lately I made the acquaintance of yet another friend. Friend of a nephew, introduced by my sister. He is a university teacher, of English, and writes 55 word paragraphs (for want of a better word) most days.

He does this with another friend.

Recently said friend-of-the-friend (are you following me here) chose as his mantra

Joy Fix.

It had me reaching for pen and paper: here's the resultant Haiku

The world in turmoil,

Shades of gray, shadows of dark,

Solution: Joy Fix

 

 

 

Days best forgotten,

   

Or avoided.

 

Today is one of « those » days, one best ignored or forgotten.

 

Nothing particularly wrong with the day itself as it started off sunny

enough and fairly warm considering that we are in winter still and that February is usually the month of snow.

 

There was a lot to recommend it, other than the fact that it was a Monday, that I was meeting my younger son and wife for lunch, that my doctor’s appointment, although late yet again, was “normal” or what can be deemed so when one gets to my age.

 

But then the date hits: the second of February. This takes me back 26 years and although one would expect the loss to become less strong (and it is), a loss is still a loss and the persons left behind still notice the absence.

 

Most of the year, one ignores quite easily: the day of, not so much.

 

However, this too shall pass, to quote one of those much-used, who’s author is long forgotten, quotes.

 

R.I.P beloved husband, father, brother, friend 

Forget not!

 

" Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair." -Kahlil Gibran, mystic, poet, and artist (6 Jan 1883-1931) 

One of my all-time favorite sites is A.Word.a.Day by http://wordsmith.org/

 

The above was today’s thought for the day.

 

And in this world, I greatly needed Kahlil Gibran’s reminder that sometimes the simplest of things are the most necessary.

 

Disasters surround us on all sides, the world seems to become a more dangerous place by the day, but we should always keep in mind that, for me, one of the main things, as long as we are alive, is to enjoy the fact; to enjoy those around us, to help others less fortunate, to empathize with those having struggles, in short to be “human”.

 

And what better to keep us grounded than to connect with nature. If I choose not to follow Gibran’s words today, it is because it is -1° Celsius outside and the wind would only freeze me. Still, isn’t it always the “thought that counts”? I can relive in my head moments where I was able to go barefoot in the grass or feel the wind in my hair on some mountain peak.

 

In with the Old!

My son asked me this morning “what are your wishes, your ideas on this New Year? Where do you want to go, what do you want to do or change?

 

But even before he asked the question, one of my first thoughts upon awaking this morning was I will get back to blogging.

 

I have not blogged for over a year: why? Who knows. But since it isn’t an obligation, let’s just say that life got in the way.

 

Now however, perhaps with the passing of the years, I find that instead of wanting to say “In with the New and out with the Old”, that although new is sometimes, perhaps even often, a positive, neglecting the old can be harmful.

 

So, no resolutions. I have never done New Year’s resolutions.

But rather, I would like to bring back more of the old into my life. More reading, more writing, more photography, more actually doing those photo albums that have lain way too long here on my desk, more sorting, more getting rid of the unnecessary.

 

As to the “new”: a continuation of the old – family, friends, the things that make a life worth living.

 

So, whatever you choose, may 2026 be a Good Year, old and new combined into something unique to oneself.

 

January 1, 2025 

Free writing

 I have, over the years, occasionally done free writes with friends. 

This is our latest production:

Tuesday, March 12, 2024

Free Write: Quote from a Book

 

Prompt: A quote from Diane Johnson's L'Afaire. "It was clear the driver was hurrying on his rounds, perhaps fearing the people would be stranded in the worsening storm."

Goal: To write ten minutes using the prompt without stopping.

Note: Julia and Rick knew what their ending was before they started. D-L had no idea until she had the three-minute warning to finish up. It was clear to her that it could be a chapter and her ending would morph into chapter 2. The fun of these group free writes is the similar and different each of us takes.

Rick's Free Write

To say that Pierre was distracted was understatement.

His daughter had announced that morning that she was leaving home, and slammed the door. As he watched her strut down the street, small suitcase in hand, his wife, Emilie, had one of her anxiety attacks.

It had taken an hour to get her calmed down, and even then she was still touch and go.

He had to make his deliveries or he wouldn’t get paid. But he decided to look for Marie first. She wasn’t on any of the streets around. Probably holed up at her friend’s, Samantha, the American expat. Or had hopped a train to visit her boyfriend at Uni. Snobbish prig.

He finally had to abandon the search and start delivering his dry goods to neighborhood shops. Instead of the usual cheery greeting, he got a lot of gruff “You’re late”’s.

Two more deliveries to go and the rain was coming hard now. He pressed the accelerator to round a corner and heard a thump about the same time as the lightning and thunderclap.

Should he investigate? No, he had to deliver before the customers closed their stores.

Marie lay on the side of the road, bleeding and soaked, and unconscious.

D-L'sFree Write

It was clear the driver was hurrying on his rounds, perhaps fearing the people would be stranded in the worsening storm.

Jacques wanted to go faster but the danger of skidding was too great.

As the wipers did a semi-good job of keeping the windshield clean, he tried to look for any skiers but saw none.

Global warming? Bah! Global cooling. This winter there had been more snow than there had been for the last 12 years.

What was that up ahead? It looked like a woman and a boy running, skies slung over their shoulders.

He braked and skidded. If they hadn't jumped, he'd have hit them.

They rushed to his van, threw their skies away and jumped in.

"Go!" the woman yelled. "Go!"

It was then he saw a man emerge from behind the row of pine trees lining the road. He had a gun, some kind of hunting rifle.

He stepped on the gas, praying he wouldn't skid. A bullet pinged off the back of the van. "Get down," he yelled to the woman and boy.

Only after three curves, did he feel they were safe from the gunman and he slowed to a less dangerous speed.

"Do you want to tell me about this, or do you want to go to the police station? he asked.

Julia's Free Write

”It was clear that the driver was hurrying on his rounds, perhaps fearing that people would be stranded in a worsening storm”.

She didn’t often take this route, nor public transportation, but with her grandson sick in the hospital, she realized more how fragile life could be and was not willing to take any extra risks, especially with the latest weather forecast predicting a bad storm.

She still had her driver’s license at 85 and was sometimes afraid of losing it.

She made it to the hospital and had a very good visit – her son and wife were there as well, all hoping that having survived the avalanche that killed several of his friends, he would make it.

None were believers, yet in times of crisis, thoughts tended to send up a “prayer”.

And she was on her return trip and the storm had truly broken. A flash of lightening, a deluge of hail. Just as he skidded off the road.

In the front of the bus, she was the first in the water: St. Peter was there to meet her. As she looked at him, she said “fair enough, I’m glad you took me and not Joel”!

Julia has written and taken photos all her life and loves syncing up with friends.  Her blog can be found: https://viewsfromeverywhere.blogspot.com/ 

Rick is an aviation journalist and publisher of www.aviationvoices. com

 

D-L has had 17 fiction and non fiction books published. Check out her website at:. www.dlnelsonwriter.com

 

Middlebrow

I am middlebrow                            

 

A word long forgotten although it isn’t even that old, when I came across it today, I

Thought now there’s a good one that needs to be resuscitated. Like that is possible in a world of ever-shrinking words and vocabularies. Straight from http://www.wordsmith.org/

 

MEANING:

adjective:	1. (describing a person) Having tastes and interests that lie somewhere between sophisticated and vulgar.
	2. (describing a work of art) Neither sophisticated nor vulgar.
noun:	A person who has conventional tastes and interests.

 

Maybe I could relabel it “mibro” and it would catch on?