Love

Love is so beautiful and comes in so many forms. I oftened wondered after I lost my Mother to Cancer and even my best buddy, "Boomer" why should I love again to only lose it? The loss was so difficult for me, and I have come to realize that when I do love, I truly love, with everything God gave me. This is why the pain is so hard. Even after my husband no longer wanted me and only thought of me as money owed, I could not let go of the love we shared for 28 years, because I had never stopped loving him. I now know, that love has to be twofold to be able to hold onto it. Our love is gone, and even if he felt it left years ago, to myself, it went away just recently.
I am ready to love again. No one wants to be alone, and that is what I am. My tears do not come from my loss any longer, they come for the cry of love. I want to know someone in this world loves me, not just as a supporter, or an object but as someone that will love them back with their whole heart, because when I do love, that is how I do so.

Reading

Losing oneself in a character or their surroundings is in my opinion, the best therapy for a stressful society. In writing, one needs to create that certain person we can follow and rid ourselves of everyday tasks. To romantically fantasize, or be sitting on the edge of our seats to laughing, crying and wishing the book would not end. This is a good read to me.

Favorite Authors

Some of my Favorite Authors are: Dean Koontz, Nicholas Sparks, Kat Martin, John Saul, Bentley Little, Stephen King, Stephanie Meyer, Marlys Millhiser, Tami Hoag, Shirley Jackson, Mark Twian, E.B. White, Dr. Suess, & Debbie Macomber. I truly could go on.

1946 Story from my Father

My Dad was telling me some stories today that I can say I have never heard before. He was 14 years old working with his dad in a potato field. They would sleep under ground in the potato house. There were at least 40 men working and sleeping there as well. All nationalities and races. Every day you'd have things stolen, but you were not able to take these items with you to the field, so it was expected and the men would leave as little as possible on their cots. One day, the owner told the men, even though it had rained all weekend and was pouring still, that they had to pick in the mud. All 40 men refused and walked off the job. My grandfather and father were walking down the road hoping to catch a ride and another potato owner offered them work. My dad would sit on the potato truck all day pushing potatoes so they could fit more on the truck, my grandfather would supervise the pickers. $12.00 a week between the two. Than they would walk to the Western Union and pay .75 cents to send my grandmother $10.00.
You have to love these stories, as they are passed down to another generation. Makes one wonder what stories will sound like when written in 2063 titled "2011 Story from my Father & Mother"?

New Me

Didn't think I'd make it through yesterday.
Kind of funny, I was perfectly okay.
I didn't even stop and think of you
Wow, shows me my life is but new.
Hello future world, here I come
Truly happy plus some.

Growing Old

An older gentleman once told me, "your old when you turn eighty". A child, not even a teenager yet will say twenty five is old, a teen will say thirty is old. It seems we all place an emphasis on age even from the day we know our own age. We can not wait to become a teenager, become of age to vote, than drink legally. At this point age reverses itself, as we remember when we used to get proofed, or when life was so much easier before all the responsibility. This all makes me wonder about that gentleman and when he finally did turn eighty, did he miraculously feel "old" or did he feel ninety was the true elder age? Age is all in the mind, let us all grow young on our next birthday.

Coming Home

Can you come back home? After a year of your own choice to leave. Will it be awkward? Will your family treat you as before? Will your friends look at you the same? One year can change a whole being. Looks, speech, routines, activities, and knowledge. Will you be welcomed as before? How will your own self feel? If you left for several reasons, maybe it's not meant to return. Life has moved on for everyone you knew. No one, sat and waited for your return, nor did they place their own lives on hold. Who did you think you were and who are you now? Let us live as we have done. Leave us as you left us. Do you really think you can come back home?

Separation

   She sat all alone remembering what love really meant. How the year had gone by so quickly yet, so long both at the same time. Hatred had filled her heart over his leaving, but at the same time, love still held her heart. How could both emotions effect her as so? Fate was something she always believed in, fate had played a major role in her marriage. Part of her had hope that they still belonged together, part of her held sadness that maybe it just was not meant. She holds a photograph of when they began dating as how young they both looked. The feelings of love shined through a simple snap snot but she knew at that moment in time, there really was love between them. How perfect a couple they once were, what had happened? What had caused all the arguing, the loss of passion, and the closeness?
   God grants us each one life to live, yet it is ours to choose how we live it. Marriage vows say for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer and in sickness and in health, why do some people not live these through? If a couple marries, it's out of love, when they have children, love is all a part of it. Where does the love fall down? Do the couple give up? Do they just decide it's not worth it? True love from the start, should have bonds and ties and memories strong enough to hold a marriage together.
Is it possible, boredom of one's life can allow thyself to just walk away? Can a person choose not to recall the love and happiness, the memories and just focus on the hardships? Tears form as she lies down on the bed trying so hard to recall what could of been the first cause of the beginning of separation. The memories, where should she begin looking? She yawns, and closes her eyes thinking, if only she could go back and relive this marriage, would she see what had happened? Could she have changed any of it? Would she have been able to change anything? Than as she drifts off to sleep she asks herself, would she even want to change the outcome?
© 2011 M. Kirchhoff