You are free to place a period wherever you wish. It is my perogitive not to follow single words with a little dot. It is poor grammar to do so.

Sure, I know I am guilty of using incomplete sentences. The examples are in my post A SUNDAY DRIVE ON SATURDAY.

However, I prefer to avoid joining the fray of what is considered in vogue. The only one word sentences worthy of a period immediately following it are the words yes and no. For example:

“Do you believe anything a habitual liar tells you?”


“Is our country being deceived by a nasty sociopath incapable of any true compassion?”


This is an indication of not only my political views. Sixty-seven years of life lessons will not be upended by someone who displays a lack of common language skills telling the masses what they think we want to hear.

No Wheels high Stress

Earlier this month, I went to Southern California. My niece is very ill. Her parents, my sister and brother-in-law have been doing what they can to help her and care for her, 3 dogs 2 cats and sometimes themselves. That’s my regular day at work, so going to warm weather was my own bonus.
  A visit to the beach was not on the itinerary. Trips to her doctor, the pharmacy, etc. took up my day.  I’ve been stressed out ever since.
  My return to Colorado was greeted with cold, cold weather, snow upon snow and to top it off my car would not start. 
My husband has been kind enough to let me use his for the necessary trips to work.  I have had to pull out the “Me first!” stopper.  Humility has me feeling pathetic. A cup of Tension Tamer tea hopefully provides a smidgen of  calm.  This has been a tough week. 

Happy Holidays With Heart

I’m happy you had a fun time at Christmas.  It is good respite to have laughter and good company.
A week from today I am flying to San Diego to give my sister JoEllen and her hubby Ed a respite from caring for their daughter, my second niece, Dee.  Dee has cancer, an aggressive type of which was found in her tongue, a cancer found inside a cancer and what has spread to lymph nodes.  She has not eaten in months (a good 45% of her tongue has been removed) and has lost 60 pounds.  My goal is to give Jo and Ed a well deserved break and to be with Dee.  Her son, my nephew, is also doing what he can. He is heavily immersed in becoming a nutritionist.  Nick needs a break, too. Her daughter is in college, away from home.  When Lauren is home, she is said to be a stellar caregiver.
I do not expect to have a Southern California vacation at all.  Jo and Ed are 86.  Jo is using a cane and I hear through the sister telegraph she is considering walkers.
As for the other two of my sisters:
Susan, in the course of 3 months has had her shoulder repaired, two cataract surgeries with lens replacements and is now recovering from a knee replacement.

Linda was at the dog park with her adopted pooch when a dog ran directly into her and broke Linda’s leg.  She was in a wheelchair for at least a month, and without her late husband Dennis to take care of her(he was that type of guy.  He helped take care of my mother and held Mom’s hand as she passed away.  I’m going to cry thinking about all of them and all of this.)
Christmas was a nearly complete bust for me.  My husband did not even so much as wish me a Merry Christmas on what used to be my get down and rejoice favorite holiday).    Because of his refusal to acknowledge its importance to someone other than himself, I gave myself the gift of an Instant Pot (I have mastered pressure cooked hard-boiled eggs) and to put myself first in this relationship.  He and I do a split on expenses: he pays the mortgage, I pay the utilities and buy the groceries.  I used to include beverages such as soda pops, juices, chips, cookies, some candy, his personal items ie. shampoo and toothpaste, but those are now off the shopping list.    He did offer to buy a new set of pots and pans, but when I asked him if that was supposed to be a gift to me so I can cook for him, I not only declined the offer, I reexamined my drive to do almost all the cooking.  I gave myself some new behaviors.  When its time to even THINK about dinner, if I am not feeling it, I do whatever else I am feeling.  It even gets him to set the table and put something together.
I thought of you during the Christmas Advent and beyond.  I would have sent you a Christmas card but I do not have your address.  On New Year’s Eve day I went to Michael’s and bought a tabletop Christmas tree and a couple of picture frames.
As far as my February b-day is concerned, its usually a Christmas-like dud around here.  Just like my wedding, I don’t own it.  Last year I chose to work all day on the blessed occasion. I didn’t tell anyone it was my birthday and relished in the freedom of not being disappointed and having a secret.  The client I was with was at the end of her life. I sat and watched her breathe, helped the Hospice nurses and CNA’s and alerted her son when their Mom needed more Morphine.    You may think I am being tongue in cheek about it. Nope.  The client was someone I enjoyed every minute with, who taught me some care skills (she taught nursing) I have since shared with others in similar situations.  Staying with her, getting to kiss her goodbye and wish her a good journey was fulfilling.  Caregiving fills my heart and replaces the loneliness I have felt for years.   The next day Rand exclaimed how he didn’t even get me cake!  I invited him to do so. Like most things that do not involve only himself, I never saw any cake.  I think I chose wisely.
He usually conjures up his romantic side from the depths of his soul for Valentine’s Day.  His romantic self is kept in solitary confinement 364 days a year. The poor out of practice Romeo crawls out of its unlit, airless cell.  It raises up its head  like the Steve McQueen character getting a haircut in the movie PAPILLON then asks, “How do I look?”.  Pretty rough around the edges, crosses my mind. I say, “You look good”,  not to be an ungrateful battle ax or doom any possible future Valentine’s Day.  Last year was over the top for him:  I don’t remember anything particular about it.

I booked my flight to Southern California not long after Christmas, feeling the need to get out of here on my own terms.  He can take care of the cat’s litter box.  I will be gone on Valentine’s day. I don’t want to be disappointed.

Life is so very short

I am a very lucky girl.  On my fortieth birthday, I spoke with my father over the telephone.  At the end of our conversation, I ended our conversation with, “I love you.”  He replied, “I love you, too”.  It was the last thing he said to me, my dad unexpectantly died that night.

A friend of mine recently passed away.  She left us without surprise.  What she left was a large family and a long 97-year life of love and many friends who came and went before her, numerous still remain.    Phyllis Bacalis was one of the best people I have met in the twenty-one years I have lived in Colorado and in all of my 66 years.  She had a way about her. A person could not help but be swept away in her sincere charm.  She was kind, generous, honest, smart.  She taught me acceptance.  She showed me there is a difference in what matters and what to let go of.  When my heart was broken at other losses, she was there to comfort me.  She knew the pain of losing a loved one, more than I could ever imagine.  Many times she would lament, “I just want to go be with my Paul”. (Her husband who passed before her).

I had the distinct privilege of being an in-home caregiver to her. Everything I did for her was appreciated.  Anything anyone gave to her she appreciated with great joy.  I do believe she kept every single card and gift ever given to her.  Anything I picked up of which had been a gift to her, Phyllis would reminisce the occasion and the person, telling me something wonderful about them.  The only time she grumbled was at the squirrels in her back yard which went after the seed in the birdfeeders or a bad golfer going after their ball onto her property.  They had crossed the line.

She rarely ventured into self-pity, and despite her physical pain, she complained very little. At most, she would say, “Oh, me” and then move on to another and better thought.  She found reasons to appreciate life in the wildlife venturing about her property, the flowers growing in the planters, birds swooping in for seed, and just being on her back porch in the summertime meant much to her.  If it seemed she didn’t understand, it was because of her impaired hearing.  She was brilliant, hers was a very sharp mind. Each time I went into her home to care for her, the way she expressed her appreciation to see me won my heart over and over again. For that reason, I could not do enough for her.

Phyllis Bacalis quietly taught me many things in the ways she was Phyllis.  For her, I would like to tell you to always be grateful, always find a way to express love and joy.  Let the small stuff go, be kind to one another because life is much too short.

Phyllis will be missed.  I went to see her just a few days before she went to be with her Paul.   I’m a very lucky girl. As I turned to leave I blew her a kiss and said, “I love you,”.  And she said to me, “I love you, too”.



The shoe drops

Finally, someone brave took action. Thank goodness for the sake of goodness. My head said ENOUGH is ENOUGH. Someone has to step up, stare down the blob of blonde (this week) and take them on. This is OUR country. The country has been crying for the blatant abuse of position to come to an end. Finally, I again feel hope our Democracy will survive. Its been 3 long years.