Archives for posts with tag: brothers

When my father came to live with us the last years of his life, he told me ‘I want to ride the roller coaster’ indicating Busch Gardens. I would grimace and think, ‘hmmmm…’ My husband was not eager to ride the roller coaster, either. This week, my husband’s brother stayed for the week becoming more familiar with both of us and the area. He loved it but he expressed no desire to ride the roller coaster or go to Busch Gardens.

We visited the new pier in Saint Petersburgh and did some walking.
Although it looks cool, it was hard to find a breeze. When we could, we took the trolley or gulf cart.
We did some walking and touring of old Northeast and ate seafood including smoked fish, shrimp kebabs and scallops. He was introduced to our state pie: key lime.

We spend lots of time talking and he loved our garden. I was happy he made the visit. I thought of my dad the first day and remembered during the time he came that we were very busy attending graduate school and working two jobs. I can’t say for sure if I took the dare and rode the roller coaster with him but in my dreams, I did. I accepted the challenge, and I can visualize strapping myself in the car and then screaming as the car danced slowly up the steep hill and then rushed to the bottom with me screaming and my father laughing.

I thought, ‘yeah, my dad the risktaker and I wondered if he wasn’t sending me a message he learned early growing up in New York ‘Take the ride. Accept the risk. Strap yourself in and open your eyes. Scream, as needed.’ I like to think I took that last ride with him but I am not sure if I just blanked it out because the times were so busy and the road was so steep.

And that is what family does for you. Makes you think. And sometimes, they make you appreciate more what you have.

List of “Don’t Forgets” and “Remembers” We are still Standing.

We were eight.

Before September 11th, we would wake up with a list of “Don’t Forgets”
Don’t forget to wash your face
Don’t forget to brush your teeth
Don’t forget to do your homework
Don’t forget to wear your jacket
Don’t forget to clean your room
Don’t forget to take a bath

After September 11th, we wake up with a list of “Remembers”
Remember to greet the sun each morning
Remember to enjoy every meal
Remember to thank your parents for their hard work
Remember to honor those who keep you safe
Remember to value each person you meet
Remember to respect other’s beliefs

Now we are nine.

Why do we choose certain things to write about? I was contemplating recently in my hiding place just outside the garage door. There is a narrow piece of territory where the sun shines and I call “mine.” Dibbs on planting sunflowers, a shed in the background, and a small blue collapsible chair. The sun beats me into quiet submission as I observe the birds flying above. First, I hear a plane and as my eyes lazily watch the speck until it disappears beyond the clouds, I see the birds circling following one another and some circling back as if this is a favorite route.

Why do they choose the route above the house? Why do writers choose topics? I think of the writer on WordPress who writes about the possibility of having hot sexual encounters with another dog walker in a park and then continues like a record playing “repeat” the sexual encounters. It is obviously something she craves or maybe needs, like  attention. Many of us remember the 20’s, 30’s as this type of hot and heavy and then we moved into more committed established relationships with one person. Most hopefully.

What do I choose to write about? Like the pattern the birds follow, I choose often ethereal topics like characters following superstitious beliefs or people who are avid bitten gamblers, loners, sometimes pursuing things because of a sixth sense about something or someone. They follow without reason because they have no choice but to do so. My characters are often build around memories of my brothers, friends, and my interesting family. I have a brother I use often his character in my books. For now, he is lost to me and I don’t have any idea where he is. They say it is hard to lose someone but sometimes I dream of meeting him again. There might be a reason he does not want to be found. I might write a book about this. This is my style and that is most likely why I enjoy reading Jack Reacher’s adventures. Because for me, he is the ultimate cowboy without roots saving those randomly without reason, those who don’t know they need a hand.

Perhaps my sixth sense is telling me something. Thanks for listening. Until the next break, Christmas. And to my brother, if you are listening I love you.

Good morning,

I noticed that I have picked up a few followers, so I decided to interact more by inviting you to ask me a question.

The question can be about my background or a topic I have talked about or baking: you might have noticed the theme involves cupcakes or about myself. Another blogger that I interact with, or just a question.

I have been trying to be more open, so go ahead and ask. This lets me know you are listening.  Note: this topic will close by the end of the week…….