Me and My Music

It’s not so bad after all.

Coming home to an empty home.

Music indeed is therapeutic.

Makes good company.

 

I can’t help but think about the recent suicides.

Such famous people.

Who am I to think less of myself.

I cannot imagine the internal suffering that results in suicide.

 

I thought I’d sleep longer being alone for a few days.

M1 asked, “why are you awake you don’t have to make my breakfast.”

Yes, at 26, I still make her breakfast and pack her lunch.

I make sure to pack in a whole lot of love since they’re gone most of the day.

 

It’s my way of remaining connected to my young adult girls.

I’ll eventually be left on my own someday.

In the company of my music and house chores.

Oh, I mustn’t forget my knitting needles!

 

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R. R. R.

Different ways of speech communication is one of my earliest memories. The fact that, at home, my mother and grandmother speak one way, and friends, neighbours and people in the street another. Then there's the way my mother speaks to my grandmother when she doesn't want me to understand what she's saying. The third way. Russian at home, Italian outside, Farsi for secrets I long to know.  I am at the stage in my young life when I have a notion of existing but not living. My body still feels like a chunky box that's the wrong shape for me. Too bulky, too slow, too clumsy, too heavy.  Like a container in which I am trapped and which prevents the lithe, fast, agile, sprite-like me from moving as easily as I feel entitled to by right. 

 

On top of this hindrance to the full expression of my self, there is the disobedience of my tongue.  I cannot roll my "r"s.  This is just another way my body is opposing me.

 

My mother looks sternly. You cannot speak Russian or Italian with a weak "r". Her daughter will learn to rattle "r"s as hard as engines, as uncompromising as machine guns. "You'll practise this Russian tongue-twister," she instructs.

 

На горе Арарат

Ростëт крупный виноград

On Mount Ararat 

Grow large grapes

Where's Mount Ararat? Why are the grapes there large?

 

While my mother is at work, during the day, my grandmother prompts me gently. When my mother comes back home, the evening, it's boot camp training mode. I know you're sleepy.  Say it just once again and you can go to bed.  Come on.  One more time.  Rrrrr.

 

I hate Mount Ararat. There are probably big spiders and nasty people living there. And I hate grapes.

 

I finally manage to produce a guttural "r". "Good," my mother pronounces as though she expects no less. "But no one is French in our family. We need a strong, Russian and Italian RRR."

 

I am caught between wanting them to leave me alone and the conviction that the goal is non-negotiable. It's as though my life is impossible until it is achieved. I dread uttering words that contain "r"s.

 

Then, one day, it just happens as though it were the most natural thing in the world. R r r. My mother is relieved. The uneven edge of my speech has been sanded down.

 

Scribe Doll

 

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Self-Care

It would greatly help if there was a formula for this.

Shopping always nipped the tension.

 

I don’t need anything in particular nor do I feel an impulse for anything.

Less is more as one grows older.

 

I will be on my own the next few days.

Girls both out and help will be on holiday.

 

I won’t have to get up too early.

Laundry can wait until the load piles up.

 

I’d be lying if I said I’d be 100% ok.

I think this would be a good time to get myself out of my self-imposed prison.

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Whatever Works

 

Occupation.

I’m not talking about a job.

 

I am referring to how one occupies time.

I try to keep myself mindfully occupied.

 

With purpose.

It can’t be all work.

 

One morning it hit me.

I am alone.

 

I focused on keeping myself occupied.

Too occupied that I forgot to smell the flowers.

 

While waiting for my ride to arrive,

This yellow flower greeted me.

 

Appreciation for the little things life offers.

Every day is a work in progress.

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Latest Comments

Ken Hartke Telephone Nostalgia
20 January 2019
Ha! That's a new expression for me...thanks.
Katherine Gregor Telephone Nostalgia
20 January 2019
Fair enough. Horses for courses.
Katherine Gregor Telephone Nostalgia
20 January 2019
When you are fortunate enough to correspond with friends who take their time to write e-mails as tho...
Katherine Gregor Telephone Nostalgia
20 January 2019
I don't like Skype or FaceTime, although both can sometimes be very convenient. Butthere is somethi...
Ken Hartke Telephone Nostalgia
17 January 2019
I have never liked using the telephone. Too often it brought bad news and holds some of my most pain...

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