WHY WE STILL BELIEVE IN MIRACLES: KEEPING HOPE ALIVE AND WELL

A series of essays.....

SAINT LEO THE GREAT ROMAN CATHOLIC CHURCH
IN LITTLE ITALY, BALTIMORE, MARYLAND
 

   Courtesy: saintleorcc.com



.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Why do we still believe in miracles? Put quite simply, because it’s so important to keep hope alive!

What is considered a miracle, anyway? 

A miracle can be defined as something completely different and personal by each one of us. A miracle could be considered an act as mundane as having a cabbie stop for you in Downtown Manhattan on a rainy day, or finding the perfect buyer for your home within days of listing it. It may be as complicated and pure as knowing that each tiny snowflake is created with its own intricate and individual pattern, or observing the miracle of life while placing your hand on your Mommy's growing tummy and feel your baby brother or sister kicking from within.

Any instance of things that happen beyond our normal threshold of understanding or control, and is a superb example of something wonderful and marvelous, can be entitled miraculous, no matter how large or small the case in point may be. 

CAPTURING TIME IN A BOTTLE

I believe we underestimate the true power of this seven letter word or, at least, its meaning has been diluted as time slips through our fingers and passes by like the sands in an hour glass. The flow of sand visually fascinates us even when we know that the size of the opening, gravity, and the amount of sand itself are three factors that allow each grain that passes from one compartment to another the ability to, literally, capture time in a bottle!

Miracles have been described as extraordinary occurrences that surpass all known human powers or natural forces and are ascribed to a divine (godly) or supernatural cause.

Having grown-up within the doctrine of the Catholic Church and participated in it’s particular theology every day as a child, miracles were always a part of my life in the form of ‘turning water into wine,’ returning sight to a blind man, and attending mass each morning before classes and staring at Jesus hanging on the cross above the altar, blood draining from his hands, his feet and a large, man-inflicted gash beneath his breast bone. The belief that he died for our sins and rose from the dead three days later to sit at the right hand of his Father is of central importance to the Christian faith. For a small, wide-eyed kid....nothing could be more miraculous than this.

RESURRECTION OF CHRIST
BY NOEL COYPEL

                         Courtesy: Wikipedia

From an early age, we learn about, analyze, and want to believe in the prospect of good things happening that are, many times, far beyond our control. It’s just so cool to think that there’s an invisible superpower acting on our behalf! This gives us hope to cling to when our future may look grim. To think that when we least expect it, if we think or pray hard and long enough, something that is much larger than any of us could happen and change our life for the better; just like that!

As an American, a Christian person, and all-around hopeful individual living in a land that has drastically shifted gears from caring about mankind and human rights in general to shifting its attention to only a handful of rich, power hunger, over-privileged, greedy, people...it’s time to believe and hope in the power of miracles. We certainly could use a ‘doosie’ right about now, Mr. Mueller...if you’re listening!

However, we must not place all of our eggs in one basket, and we must be intelligent enough to see and understand the danger of false hope associated with this practice. For miracles (change) to take place, a certain balance must be achieved between the ‘Spirit of Hope’ itself and the hard work and dedication contributed by all of us who believe it is our duty to keep all hope alive and well. 

BALANCING THE SCALES IN TODAY'S WORLD

With Hope as our guideline and hard work the game plan, let us feel encouraged by the fact that so many of us are finding that balance in our lives and continue to make things happen and shake things up. 

From the depths of despair can arise renewed hope just like the Phoenix rising from the ashes with renewed youth to live through another day. Several Sandy Hook family members whose loved ones were killed at Sandy Hook Elementary School on December 14, 2012, have organized the ‘Sandy Hook Promise,’ a national non-profit organization with the intent of honoring all victims of gun violence by providing programs and practises that protect children and prevent the senseless and tragic loss of life.

The powerful miracle here is witnessing the strength and resilience that many survivors of these violent crimes seem to attain in order to move on with life. They create needed change through their organizations, marches, and sit-ins, and offer the rest of us examples of non-violent, productive action after such horrendous circumstances changed them, forever.

From the Sandy Hook parents to the Parkland shooting survivors and their anti-gun violence activism, they continue to make vibrant ripples across the deep waters of change. Sadly, they represent all of the victims of senseless mass shootings that have suffered before, between, and after their own experiences. I remain proud and strong because of all of you... 

Whether you believe in small or large miracles, something wonderful happening in your life, or extraordinary and divine occurrences that may just change your life forever....it’s time to keep all of your possibilities and options open. The important ingredient is that you ‘Believe.’ Keeping ourselves open to anything good these days is an asset to our health and well-being and realizing that those around us are contributing to this cause will boost and enhance our positive feelings of joy and love. 

"FIREFLY LIGHTING UP THE DARK NIGHT"

                             Courtesy: pinterest.com

Hang in there with me, my friends because, whether we realize it or not, miracles happen every day! Like lightening bugs glowing brightly in the backyard in the darkness of night, we need to open our eyes, find them, and be guided by their light.

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

RIDDING THE LITTLE SCREEN OF ROSEANNE BARR: A GLIMMER OF HOPE IN THE DISTANCE

A series of essays....

FRIENDSHIP IS COLORBLIND!
OUR DAUGHTER, CORINNE, AND HER BEST FRIEND,
MICHELLE, ON A TRIP TO EUROPE

....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Racism....the deep-seated, dark, murky thing that hides under the bed, resides in the hall closet, and keeps many people awake most of the night. Popular horror and thriller author, Stephen King, got it right each time he sent millions of his readers into tears of fear or battling night sweats after experiencing his novels. According to the Washington Post, around ten percent of Mr. King's tweets and Facebook posts are political and he holds nothing back when criticizing the current leader residing in the White House. His remarks are not pretty but, they are real and from the heart. 

HIS BOOKS CAN'T HOLD A CANDLE
TO THE REAL LIFE FEAR WE KNOW
EXISTS WITHIN THE TRUMP ADMINISTRATION...

I have a feeling it isn’t always the shiny balloons, nasty looking clowns, or rabid animals that ignite our fears; often, it’s having to understand and deal with people who fail to see the beauty in others no matter what color their skin is while, at the same time, demeaning them as less than human. This is our nightmare; this should be one of our biggest concerns as we walk, breathe, work, and intermingle with others in 2018 and beyond!

The tone does start at the top.

If memory serves me well, our own parents set the tone for our deep-seated (after all, the heart is the seat of passion) beliefs that continue to live within us as thriving adults. Back in the day, we listened intently to anyone who fed and clothed us, along with various other authority figures who taught us our lessons in school, preached to us from the pulpit at Sunday morning mass, and, in theory, towered over us like giant, animated skyscrapers wielding their stone tablet lists of do’s and don’t’s. 

Please take a moment to ask yourself if you believe that the abhorrent comments, bad taste jokes, and life-threatening displays of hatred by so many people are having an insidious and damaging impact on all of us. If your answer is a profound...Yes!, a great follow-up question might be, what are we going to do about it?      

Let’s begin by admitting one thing to ourselves; the skyscraper holding the stone tablets today is more compact, unconsciously animated to the highest degree, and wields more power than even the most highly intelligent among us believed someone in his position ever could. His words and actions are inconsistent with the principle that all men and women are created equal and that each person born has a right to pursue everything and anything in this world and its societies as much as the next person. In essence, it means that no one has exclusive rights to these pursuits.

When hate is normalized at a high level and emboldened by a President who is race based himself...we have a major problem on our hands. Blinded by the incessant pain he has lived with all of his life and brought about by the dollars signs permanently embedded in his eyeballs, this poor excuse for a leader of the free world has been handed a 'one-sided' forum that he freely uses to spread his words of corruption and hate. 

He is an eager participant in the popular board game called ‘Risk’ and the fate of each person and every piece of land he scrambles to pull towards him with his grubby, little hands is hanging in the balance between life and death, rich or poor, love and hate, and right or wrong. Unfortunately, in reality, this is not a board game for us. It’s called survival. The treachery he creates, weaving harm in a manipulative manner, is far more dangerous than what seems evident to most of us on a regular basis. It’s as if we are being slowly consumed by an insidious disease and the cure is just beyond our reach.     
The racists, white supremacists, his minions or ‘base,’ follow him faithfully with the promise that they are free to hold absolutely nothing back to the tune of little or no consequences for their actions. The title of this popular song could be changed to ‘Who Let the Haters Out ?’ because this President has opened up the flood gates from Hell and the Roseannes, David Dukes, mini-Hitlers, greedy rich, and individuals who want to be able to, finally, belong somewhere in this society, have come pouring out of them. And, it’s not a pretty sight or a comfortable position to be in for the rest of the population.

Agreeing with the timely decision, made by the President of ABC, Channing Dungey, on Tuesday, to cancel the ‘Roseanne’ reboot sitcom starring Roseanne Barr, I am beginning to see a tiny sliver of hope way down at the end of this dark, claustrophobic tunnel we’ve been inhabiting for far too long. I am sad that ABC and Disney decided to take-on this project in the first place knowing who and what Roseanne stood for based upon her prior words and actions throughout the years. No matter how it is arrived at, profit is the name-of-the-game for all corporations, so, this decision comes as no surprise; she was highly marketable and the President residing in the White House today identifies with her racial slurs.

Rob Reiner, actor, producer, and writer, proposed an interesting ‘Catch 22’ challenge to Trump when he tweeted his thoughts after the demise of ‘Roseanne’ and wrote:

@robreiner
 “ABC has done the right thing. They’ve stood up against racism. It is our country’s original sin. But this is 2018 and it has no place in the hearts of decent people. Unfortunately our president has stoked these evil fires. If he doesn’t applaud ABC, he will continue to stoke evil.”

Mr. Reiner is right. If Trump tweets his support of Roseanne Barr, he will continue to stoke evil. But, I have a feeling we all know where this will go. Somehow, even this challenge will lead back to Trump himself; something he has or hasn’t done, or is about to do, or something someone else has or hasn’t done for him. Well, you know by now what I mean because it will always be about him no matter what the subject might be. What a sad, little man...

So, what are we going to do about it? In actuality, there are quite a few things we can do. And, staying silent and inactive as we wait for this ‘Crazy Train’ to, finally, leave the station is not one of them! 

For starters, we not only vote this coming mid-term election in November but, we encourage (embolden?) everyone else to do so. Talking about the categorical harm this administration is placing our country in will help bring this monstrous attack on us to light instead of keeping it in the shadows. Get involved! Speak with people who agree and disagree with you. Having both sides of a situation exposed can help everyone involved in so many ways. And, as the Brits say, “Keep Calm and Carry on” my friends.

In the meantime, the importance of finding our own, individual, purpose and means of joy in this lifetime should and must become a main priority. And, when we do, this solid platform will stabilize us, bring us closer to everyone around us, and open our eyes to the reality that we are all connected with one another...no matter the color of our skin or how we choose to love and honor a particular religion or atheistic belief.

CHILDREN DO NOT SEE IN
BLACK OR WHITE...

Feed your mind with fresh perspective. Make your voice be heard (rush to the polls this November). Discover the joy and passion in your life. Stop worrying and start living again. Remember not to allow the Boogie Man under your bed to take away your freedom or diminish the love you should have for all of the people you share this breathtaking world with. Life is too short to think, believe, or do otherwise. 

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

EVERY PICTURE TELLS A STORY...OR TWO

A series of essays....

AGE OR SOLITUDE?

....as seen through my eyes!



By: Jacqueline E. Hughes 

Walking out of our favorite Viêtnamese restaurant one evening, we were delighted to witness the elongated, early evening shadows cast a surreal atmosphere upon the tiny parking lot behind the building. Their patron’s cars were draped in extended 'palm tree' shapes and bathed in shades of purple, pink, and cool tones of green.

Pho Vinh Restaurant, located just east of Downtown Orlando, is a part of the greater cluster of Little Saigon (Once known as Orlando’s Little Vietnam neighborhood) that exemplifies the offerings of a rather large Vietnamese population in Orlando. In the 1970s, thousands of Vietnamese war refugees fled their native land, desperately seeking a new beginning, free of political persecution for themselves and their children. Many of those refugees settled north and east of downtown Orlando and began opening businesses and revitalizing a fairly lackluster part of the city.

Literally, with one foot in the car, I turned just in time to see, what I deemed to be, a story in the making; a moment in time meant to be preserved and rejoiced in its utter simplicity. The large, plastic crate sat silently beside the paint stripped and speckled, tired looking wooden chair; its ancient ‘bones’ resting against the weathered stucco and its spirit sinking down into a mixture of asphalt shards and stones. 

A fire was lit in my belly as I clicked several shots and fantasized about the stories this chair could tell us. Was it a throwback to the original furnishings of Pho Vinh years before? How many colors possessed it during its lifetime? Did many generations of patrons sit comfortably on it as they dined on heavenly, full-flavored Pho (beef soup) or, my personal favorite, Bun Cari Ga, rice vermicelli with chicken in coconut curry broth?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MY HANDSOME 'YOUNG' FRIEND

This handsome gentleman made me laugh, feel special, and reconfirmed my faith in the sheer goodness of others...all in a span of an evening at the ballpark. 

Sitting at ESPN’s Wide World of Sports at Disney World, watching the Detroit Tigers and the Atlanta Braves play a preseason game, we were freezing as the temperature dropped into the unseasonable low 40’s. “Do you want to be on the Big Screen?” he asked. “We could be if we wave at the cameraman together!” He proceeded to make me laugh throughout the game with his warm sense of humor and boyish charm. I asked him about himself and he wasn’t shy about telling me. We conversed, often leaning into one another to hear our voices, as we looked straight ahead and watched each play of the game. 

About the time my teeth began chattering in my head, his son brought him a fresh cup of coffee from the concession stand below. He asked if I’d like a sip to warm me up before he drank the steaming brew himself. Kindly thanking him, I did opt for holding the cup in my cold hands for a few minutes; his suggestion. 

We said good-bye knowing we’d never set eyes on one another again. That didn’t matter in the least. We fulfilled our destiny as predetermined by the heavenly stars above and all was good and balanced in the world.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHANNELING THE MONA LISA

Here’s looking at you, kid! 

I purchased this lovely ceramic, pedestal vase twenty years ago at an antique shop in Orlando. She has never complained about watching over the interior of our home in all this time and I have similar plans for her in Kalamazoo. 

Her Mona Lisa smile and glaring eyes caught me off guard one morning upon entering the formal dining room where her crackled, shining face was spotlighted in the morning sun. I believe she was telling us that it was okay to move her up north. She was more than ready to take on her new position and set of challenges beside us at Hazel Avenue!

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A COLORFUL GATE
FOR A COLORFUL 'PRIVATE' GARDEN

Intricate, iron gates painted in cool jewel tones always intrigue me, especially while traveling in Europe! They represent the keepers of secrets, the personal lives of others, and, in this case, a private garden to be observed only from behind its closed presence. 

The beautiful stone house that resides near the garden made me think of writers and poets looking down from upper windows, drifting in thought between one sentence, one line, to the next; enjoying a brief interlude from their important work at hand.

Then, I imagined looking out from the stone paths, the bold greenery, and drifting shadows within the garden....at myself, the women standing, camera in hand, looking in at this private world and politely stealing one or two frames for herself; enough memory to take back home to Florida and cherish for a lifetime.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WATCHING TINY FOUNTAINS ARISE
FROM THE POOL

Looking out on the pool has become a habit these days due to the enormous amount of rainfall Florida has been experiencing lately. The raindrops sift through the screen enclosure and still manage to hit the water with great intensity, plunging in deeply and creating craters that spring back up as if they were small fountains rising up to the sky. Mesmerizing!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

These pictures, obviously taken by others, represent the future of mankind; a greater entity than any single one of us, launched by varying circumstances far beyond our control. When strong, positive individuals from all over the world begin to breathe together as one, inhale more energy and strength than we’ve seen for many years, and then exhale their power in one unified breath...you know that something wonderful is about to change the world as we know it!

BEAUTIFUL AND PROUD
MOTHER OF THE BRIDE

                                            Picture courtesy CNN

Mother of the Bride, Doria Ragland, looks on with love and pride as her daughter, Meghan Markle, marries Prince Harry before God, Great Britain, and the Queen as the rest of the world tags along. She is beautiful. She is strong. She represents an ever changing philosophy sweeping the world in that women can stand alone and be strong, vibrant, and contributing members of any society. Why on earth would we ever have believed otherwise?

"NOW LET'S GO GET IT DONE!"

                             Picture courtesy NBC News

Something exciting happened in Georgia this past Tuesday! This soft-spoken, intelligent, and amazing lady won the Democratic bid for Governor of the State of Georgia with the mid-term elections to be held this November. Stacey Abrams brings along her charismatic, cherubic smile as she speaks about being ‘part of the resistance’ in her bid to become the first black female governor in the United States.

NBC News quotes Ms. Abrams after the gubernatorial primary win, “We are writing the next chapter of Georgia history, where no one is unseen, no one is unheard and no one is uninspired," Abrams told supporters in Atlanta Tuesday night at her victory party. "Now let's go get it done." 

Old, white, greedy conservative candidates be advised; there are young, brilliant, and diversified competitors out there who know what they’re talking about. And, it’s about time we listen to them!

"BROTHERS AND SISTERS"

                                    Supplied by Pixel8000

How refreshing to know that there are Christian leaders in this world who pride themselves on delivering common sense messages and spreading the true ‘word’ of God, Love, along to others. Christian leaders who are diversified and pledge to blend the variety of ethnicity in terms of skin color, gender, class, and cultures in order to strengthen the bonds between all of mankind. Reading from his i-Pad, Michael Curry, presiding Bishop and Primate of the Evangelical Church, brought the house down with his passionate, twelve minute speech about the Power of Love.

“When love is the way, we will lay our swords and shields down by the riverside to study war no more.

"When love is the way, there's plenty good room, plenty good room for all of God's children.

"Because when love is the way, we actually treat each other, well, like we're actually family."

Bishop Curry...you have renewed my faith in religious leaders who truly believe in the age-old message of spreading Love and healing vibes to all of us weary souls who nearly gave-up on thinking that you even existed anymore within this sharp-edged world we live in. Keep spreading your message. Keep offering us Hope. You are a Joy and a Treasure for all of us! And, we thank you.

IT'S ALL ABOUT 'LOVE'

                                               PA Press Association

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

THE RAIN WILL DO THAT TO YOU: DRIFT FROM ONE THOUGHT TO ANOTHER, IN A MELANCHOLY MOOD

A series of essays.....

THE BOXES MAY BE GROWING INTO A FORT-LIKE FACADE....
YET, AS I LOOK AROUND, NOTHING SEEMS TO BE DEPLETED!
 

.....as seen through my eyes!





By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Gloomy daytime showers persist outside the sliding glass doors on this saturated weekday morning. Hundreds of gentle reminders of our past and present life remain haphazardly scattered around the house we’ve called home for two decades. Lurking are the mementos, reminders of a large chapter in this Book of Life that has taken two people through so many years of love, laughter, tears, and joy. 

Occasionally, this particular dish (chapter) has been spiced-up with certain trials and tribulations designed to perplex the main dining guests as much as possible. If you know me at all, it would be like realizing that the chef has put way too much garlic into the recipe and is waiting around to see if I relish it or choke after the first bite. Cruel, so cruel.

While my husband spent the weekend working outside on his list of things that we’ve ignored for far too long, I was indoors constructing a cardboard fort in the family room. Each carefully filled rectangle or square rising higher and higher in the room, blue ink scribbles indicating content and future placement of each tan building block at our new home! My humble attempt at being as organized as possible throughout this process.

RAINDROPS POUND THE POOL DECK WITH
THEIR STEADY RHYTHM FOR HOURS AND HOURS

Rumble, rumble....lightening and thunder have recently joined ranks with the consistent rainfall outside. Gradually, the swimming pool fills and nearly exceeds its liquid capacity. Malnourished appearing squirrels (typical looking Florida squirrels) race across the top of the screen enclosure sending torrents of rainwater down into the pool and simulate the sound of erratic gunshots as the fluid stalactites fall sharply into the standing water, harmonizing with the constant rumblings in the atmosphere above.

I fell off of the white, kitchen step stool Saturday afternoon. Can you hear a tree fall in the forest? Well, you can if you happen to be that tree! It was painful and quite a shock to my system. Dan was outside mowing the small square of lawn we call our ‘greenspace’ in the backyard, north of the pool. He wasn’t there to help pick me up. Unusual. Once I determined that the left wrist wasn’t broken, my heart stopped racing like an Indy car in May. I forgot I was on the second step and tumbled backwards; my left side abruptly merging with the little, brown ottoman. The three board games and box of loose dominoes I was extracting from the cupboard came cascading down around me in slow motion.  Left side sore but not enough to deter me from the task at hand. Feeling very fortunate...

We keep telling one another how lucky we are. We could have a basement in this house and we do not. Unless you can build on the side of a hill and create a walk-out, not many Floridian homes have what people up north call basements or cellars. If we did...it would be full of stuff, too. Instead we have a small storage area in the garage attic space. The last time I looked, it was filled to the brim.

Boxes, packing supplies, and memories are in abundance within these four stuccoed walls as we get painfully serious about this inevitable move. The most difficult part for me has been extracting personal items from each room. Familiar shapes linger in the fine dust where family photos, hockey pucks and figurines, and golfing trophies once resided on shelves. Note To Self: Dust! Vague outlines of picture frame backs that have brushed the painted walls for years must be wiped off, covered up, or repainted. The culprits, with their handsome grins and smart looking clothes, are gently bubble wrapped, boxed, and added to the fort’s growing facade.

Taking a break from all of this tomorrow. I have a dentist appointment at one o’clock that will break my day into two parts. Soon, within a few days, I will be meeting Lea, a long, lost friend, to enjoy lunch and conversation together in Cocoa Village. She is such an amazing lady with so much energy and panache. When I grow-up, I would like to be just like Lea.

"HURT YOUR EYES ORANGE!"

I’m cutting bubble wrap that is as bright orange as the company’s own logo. Seriously, hurt your eyes orange! I assume they don’t want you to become complacent within your humble surroundings while wrapping up all of your precious memories!

The intricately cut, Waterford crystal vase Dan gave to me on our twenty-fifth Wedding Anniversary is quite bedazzling wrapped in its orange, Michelin-like coat. Stay safe, memories. 

Dan officially retires, after a lifetime in the building and construction industry, on June 1, 2018. I have yet to look...is it on a Monday, a Friday? I’m sure it will be a Friday. In this industry, you tend to work for so many different companies throughout your career. Dan is no exception. Roger B. Kennedy, Inc., his latest employer, will take him out to lunch and wish him a grand life in retirement. They mean well. They didn’t know Dan through the formal years of accumulative knowledge that was built on year after year, one job site after another. But, they did reap the benefits of his esteemed knowledge (the cream on the top) these past few years. The way I look at it, Roger B. Kennedy was the truly lucky one in this case.

DAN VISITING ONE OF HIS JOBS
LOCATED IN ORLANDO

I will never take all that you have done for us as a family for granted, Dear Heart; through the good times and the, well, not so good times, too. Someday I will have to write about your bravery and tenacity. It will be an interesting story!

I can tell you this, if I do have ‘memory’ in my genetic material, it must be in the form of instinct that travels far back into my European ancestry. Looking out at the pouring rain makes me feel that I’ve been here many times before. The women in my past have all felt the way I do, nomadic and vulnerable...with raindrops representing our tears, and the knowledge that breaking down one ‘nest’ only represents having to build another. And, my inherent behavior isn’t necessarily dependent upon experience and yet, somehow, a certain presence fulfills my basic need to be happy, loved, and feel whole and appreciated.

Together, we will (and have) survived just about anything; with or without the blessing of our own children. 

Let the Floridian rain pour down and, with its cleansing powers, wash over us as we create change and, hopefully, conquer any pitfalls along our journey. Get us through the next few months of dependency upon others and trust in the system and help us sell our house here with minimum negativity. ***My little prayer to St. Joseph these days. 

Another deprived looking squirrel hammers along the top screens of the pool enclosure sending large sprays of water in every direction. My thoughts turn back to the job at hand and another vase is wrapped and tucked away deep into the packing paper lined box.

IT WILL NEVER BE A 'ROCKING CHAIR'
FOR US. I WILL SETTLE FOR A COMFORTABLE
SEAT SURROUNDED BY LOTS OF LOVE!

Chuckling, I think about a specific mantra I created many years ago after moving to Orlando. “Nothing ever dies here; it just comes back to life all on its own, eventually!” Naturally, I was thinking about the flowers, shrubs, and trees. That which withers and turns brown will and does return to a green, healthy state down here! But, I often wonder if it applies to humans, as well. Curiously, this could be why so many retirees move here. Oh, they say it’s all about the sun filled, blue skied days. Maybe we can take some of this Florida Magic up north with us. After being constantly exposed to it for over twenty odd years, it may have become ‘memory’ within my genetic material by now!

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved