6.08.2008

I am a battle weary chameleon with an uncertain future
As I face an unwanted medical diagnosis
That will dramatically change my life and has
Once again sent me back into combat.

I've been blessed with 21,695 sunsets
When my good genes had promised me 36,500
Leaving me with a deficit of 14,805 sunrises
That I must fight for with all of my power
Not willing to give up even an hour.

I've shared that blessing for 14,867 days with
My strong, loyal, and cherished daughter;
Been given a 2nd blessing for the last 13,300 days
In walking through this life with a son
Who is creative, thoughtful, and destined to be a great success.

If that wasn't enough of more than I deserve
My daughter gave me 3,810 special sunrises
When she brought our songbird into this world.

And now, my ecstasy is complete by the birth
Of the Amerasian jewel who has only graced
This earth for 98 sunrises.

In the grand scheme of life - jobs, credentials,
Accomplishments, good deeds, successes and failures;
Well, none of that matters in this passage
When you've been blessed with sunsets and sunrises
And still want more . . . .

My passion is ...

Always giving something extra to whatever I do

I know too much about ...

the sweetest lies

My parents always told me ...

I could do and be anything I wanted to

My childhood ambition ...

is the same as my adulthood ambition

My favorite memory ...

laying on the floor of a treehouse with my Gramma Daisy talking to birds

Why I write ...

because it is as close to the real me as anyone will ever get

What I am reading/watching/listening to ...

all of my favorites on my IPOD

My first job ...

inventory clerk at May Company when I was 15

My best moment ...

the birth of both my children and the birth of their children

My inspiration ...

Miss K - the songbird who lives with us and Miss Afia - the angel who lives half way around the world from us

Creative Writing > Short Stories Short stories: Death of a pet

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Sometime near dawn, Daisy slipped loose of Vern's nightlong bear hug and hauled her swollen self out of the bed. This heroic act was one of self-preservation. Watching the sun come up were precious moments, even if it was accomplished while hand scrubbing his only work uniform in an old horse trough. They were cherished moments of solitude, hopefully lasting long enough for a sweet dream of a better life, while praying that a mere dream, would be enough to get her through another impoverished day. Indeed, these moments were not to be wasted and lost by sleeping late.

Her morning acco...

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