Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘dreams’

If we were having coffee, we would be indoors. It’s raining here in Seattle. It’s not cold, just wet. You would have to help yourself to a drink before settling in as I have a baby in my arms! I drove up here on Tuesday morning and was handed a baby as soon as I got in the door. The rest of the time has been filled with holding him, feeding him, and lots of burping! Mati is four weeks old. He’s quite alert for four weeks. I think I’m spoiling him. He’s been attached to me almost all day, every day. I got to be his first babysitter, too. His mommy and daddy had tickets to two soccer games this week so they got a couple of nights out and I got this precious little boy to myself.

This past week has been filled with shock and sadness in the world. Being here with this tiny, innocent little boy has helped me both empathize with that grief and sadness and also get through it without totally falling apart.

As Mati sleeps in my arms, I’m reminded of holding his daddy in my arms when he was this age. I’m reminded of how much simpler the world was; how much less hate, fear, and danger we faced. I am also filled with hope and dreams that Mati’s world will be a better place; that he won’t have to know the hate and intolerance; that he will be in less danger when he grows; that he will live in a world that embraces all mankind.

I’ll be driving home to Portland tomorrow. I’m already missing this little one and wondering when I’ll be back to see him. I’m lucky that he’s only a three hour drive away from me. Hopefully that will translate into frequent visits.

wp-1466269309641.jpgwp-1466269235512.jpgwp-1466269211384.jpg
 #WeekendCoffeeShare is a weekly blog linkup hosted by Diana at Part Time Monster Blog. Come join us!

Read Full Post »

Yesterday, I read Deb’s post in which she wrote about trying to learn to ride a motorcycle.  It reminded me of my motorcycle adventures.  I’ve written about it in this post in which I wrote about my dad’s money-making trades.  Here’s the part that I was reminded of: 

My personal favorite of my dad’s deals was a white Honda 90 motorcycle.  I loved it.  It became mine.  I was 15 and there was talk that when I turned 16 I would get my license on the Honda 90.  We lived on a cul-de-sac with very little traffic so I was allowed to drive it up and down the street.  I loved feeling the wind blowing through my long dark hair (even though I was only going about 35 or 40 mph).  Unfortunately, I never got my license on that motorcycle.  I ruined my chances of that one early summer evening, four months shy of turning 16.  I persuaded my sister, Irene (aka The Drama Queen) to go down the street on the motorcycle with me.  There were three boys who lived down the street.  They were all cute.  They were a few years older than us but they always smiled and flirted with us when we went by.  I had seen them in the window when I had driven by earlier so I knew they were there.  When Irene and I go to their house, I turned toward the window where they stood and smiled, tilting my head in a greeting.  When my eyes returned to the road, I realized that the STOP sign was much closser than I had thought.  I hit the brakes so hard that the motorcylce flipped and threw Irene and me  into the air.  Irene claimed not to be able to walk or even get up.  Although my legs and arms were cut and skinned, I picked her up and put her on the curb then I picked up the motorcycle but I couldn’t get it started so I ended up walking it up the hill (and it was a steep hill) to our house.  When I got home, my mom and dad were in the front yard and they asked what happened.  I told them we had flipped over and they asked where Irene was.  I told them she was on the curb because she couldn’t walk up the hill so they both panicked and jumped in my dad’s car to drive down and get her.  I was upset at my parents because they left me bleeding to go get Irene.  And I was more upset at the boys we were trying to impress because they had seen us flip over and knew we were hurt and they didn’t even come to see if we were okay.  The Jerks.  Needless to say, my mother persuaded my father to get rid of the Honda before one of us got killed on it (her words, not mine).  Losing that motorcycle was one of the worst things that had happened to me in my almost 16 years.

Since then, I have wanted to ride a motorcycle again but now, as I grow older, I would be satisfied to be the rider and not the driver!

IMG_20150823_104230-40352097

Read Full Post »

I’ve been having trouble sleeping. Not because I’m not tired or not sleepy but because I cannot find a comfortable position to sleep in. I am still having to be very careful of how I move. I still have staples in my belly. I am still sore all over. So I lie in bed forever then sleep for a few minutes only to wake up and try all over again.

Last night, I had been trying to sleep since before midnight. It was after two. I finally fell asleep and as I comfortably slept, I saw myself out with a group of friends all from high school. I was having a great time with them. We were all going to walk over to the fast food place a couple of blocks down. I hadn’t had a cheeseburger in ages and while I don’t have them too often, I really enjoy a good cheeseburger with tomato and fresh lettuce and pickles and a big slice of red onion. Yum. So I told the others I had to run into the bathroom before we could go. They waited for me outside the restroom. I was fantasizing about that delicious burger I would have in just a few minutes and I realized that I was really hungry, remembering that I had not eaten anything since breakfast and it had only been a cup of yogurt so that burger would be heaven. I heard steps coming into the bathroom and then stop right outside the stall then a loud “BANG! BANG!” on the metal door accompanied by a crass voice saying “Seven minutes till the burger joint closes. Let’s go!”

I jumped up and as I did, I was aware of having hurt the incision on my belly. Everything was dark. No one was waiting for me. I was in pain. I was hungry. I was awake again. I had only been sleeping for about seven minutes. And I hadn’t had my cheeseburger!

Read Full Post »