Beautiful post from Michelle Marie
Feels like turquoise the
finest earthen clay vessel
I can’t un-know this
Now that I know
I can’t un-love
Now that I love
What do I do next?
Follow me
Memory Clutter
I was finally in the mood to start some spring cleaning and I decided to begin with my office.
As I cleaned, I realized why I held on to so many mementos and gifts from the people I love.
It wasn’t the actual notes or the drawings, it wasn’t the colorful gift bags with ribbons and bows that captivated me.
No, what I was struggling to fit into this small room, aside from computers, printers, writing, books, CDs, tapes and boxes of pictures were the moments when the gifts had been created and given.
I wanted back the happiness and the love in each child’s face when they had handed the gifts to me.
The pride in my mother’s eyes when she handed me her handmade crafts and the warmth of my sister’s hugs, the memories remained in the gifts.
After so many years, these items still triggered every emotion imaginable.
The metal sculpture my twenty-five year-old grandson welded for me when he was twelve, a green pipe with a bowl.
It had made my teenage son laugh so hard because he said it looked like a bong.
“Bong?” I’d asked. He’d laughed some more.
The toys from McDonald’s that my grandson loved to give me for presents. The man who spun like a top but could never stand up, the mermaid that he took for me when he could have had a GI Joe, into the Goodwill bag they went, but my hand hovered over a miniature Blue Fairy.
I remembered watching Artificial Intelligence over and over with my grandson and he was so proud when he found me the Blue Fairy.
The movie was about a little robot boy who wanted to be a real boy and he searched for the Blue Fairy to help him.
I couldn’t drop the Blue Fairy in the bag. Four out of five is pretty good, right?
The huge finger paintings with crackling paint. My once tiny granddaughter’s handprints with mine certainly had to stay.
The plastic sunflower my toddler grandson had presented to me…running up to me with his little fist closed tight around a treasure, he had opened his little fingers to present the treasure. “Flower,” he’d said, full of pride. When I saw it was plastic, I knew I’d keep it forever.
The poster created by pain and love that my baby sister presented to me the day after my suicide attempt twenty-eight years ago, that did go into the trash.
I pulled off the pictures, but the memory of that day and how much I’d hurt my family still burned.
Huge envelopes and boxes for each of my four kids and boxes for half of my fifteen grandkids.
What should stay, what should go?
Would they remember the objects and would the objects mean to them what they meant to me?
Would my son and daughter clean out all this junk after I was gone, moaning at my eccentric, hoarding habits? I didn’t know.
I set the bag of donations aside so I could repack it. Another box to be saved.
I just couldn’t part with any of it right now, but I could clean another room tonight.
Who knew spring cleaning could be so emotional?
Pink
Silly day…
Grace like rain falls down on me
Another pink heart spot…
Art, Jeanne Marie/Words, Michelle Marie
Pink heart spot
Inspired by Michelle Marie
Beneath the pink trees…
For Michelle Marie and thinkingpinkx2
Don’t Let…
I see your Pink heart
We all have some pink to share, but I think Michelle Marie’s heart has the most!
Art by MichelleMarie
I see your Pink heart
it’s not about the color
it’s about that fleshy Pink heart
I love it and I love you
click here see me and JM @thinkingpinkx2
Hi If you are feeling blue
Michelle Marie, you are precious…thank you so much for pinking up my day! XOXOX
~✿~ღ~✿~My friend Jeanne Marie and I have this Pink blog she created for us to play in Pink when life is tough and gets to be too much! This is for you JM I know your heart needed a PINK boost so here I am to give it. I love you ~✿~ღ~✿~
Wordless Wednesday
TDCO
I am test driving a quit smoking program of my own design.
The first concept involves hiding my cigarettes.
It works rather well because I wander around for about twenty minutes wondering where I left them.
Then I remember that I hid them, but I don’t remember where I hid them and that takes another half hour or so.
I call this phase of the plan Hide and Freak.
Moving on, the other thing that I am testing involves TDCO.
I’m sure you’re all sick of hearing about new initial named programs, but I promise you this one is unique based on the fact that it is Too Damn Cold Out to go outside and smoke.
I moved home to New England to challenge this theory, but now I’m a Believer.
Sometimes, it’s just Too Damn Cold Out to go outside and smoke.
My husband almost sabotaged that tool, trying to be nice.
He said, “Just smoke in the house,” even though he hates it.
I said, “No, thank you,” but don’t think it doesn’t cross my mind now and then, especially when it’s -14 degrees outside.
Damn. Need some more tricks to get this program off the ground.
Already tried every product on this planet so I know I need a new program.
All ideas welcome, except “just quit smoking.”
I do that every day.
Spring in New Hampshire…
Spirit Eyes
My spirit eyes can see my flowers.
When I look out across my snow covered yard, I see the bulbs.
I see the roots longing to break ground, aching to push the tender,
green sprouts up through the dirt and into the light of day.
They are patiently waiting, hibernating beneath the snow.
They are not gone. They are not dead.
They are just hidden from view… alive and strong just like me.
My spirit eyes can see my flowers.
Dear God,
when I was down for the count
you never gave up on me
you always reached for my hand
offering to set my spirit free
when grief shoved every one away
you loved me with no conditions
and you never left my side
loving me with no exceptions
i fell into a well, dark and deep
there was no rope to be found
you lifted me out and calmly
set me back on solid ground
you whispered, you don’t need that
when I used drugs to numb the pain
my child just set that down
and you washed me clean with rain
on the darkest days you colored
pink behind the black clouds
you covered me in your grace
your love infinite, it has no bounds
you knew what was best for me
sad when I embraced the worst
you promised me i was loved
when all i felt was cursed
when I screamed, I cannot make it
i heard you whisper, yes my child you can
open your heart and reach out for me
oh child, please just take my hand
despite the days and nights I wasted
you simply gave me more
gently laying your hand upon my head
while i kicked and screamed on the floor
i never would have made it
without you holding on to me
stubborn child i placed myself in chains
a prisoner of self until you set me free
Pink and Blue…for Michelle Marie
This Pink is for JM~Waking up to Pink
Sweet Memories…
This photo is JM’s she take them of her flowers! She has them year around they are stunning! They make me smile and THINKPINK
Every day without fail this Pink friend sends me beauties from her garden. If you don’t know JM and I have another blog called thinkingpinkx2.worpress.com
Both of us have been so busy that we don’t get to hang out in the PINK much and I have discovered that when I log on to both somehow my passwords get mixed up so that is why I am posting this PINK here for her!
JM thank you for asking me to share my PINK art and PINK thoughts and for creating a playground so the little girl in me can play in a safe zone! I love you
May you never lose the wonder
from Michelle Marie
Not Named Us Love…
Perhaps if we had not named us Love
if we had just let emotions run free
we’d still be snuggled side-by-side
beneath the magic of you and me.
No expectations, no promises
just the touch of wanting hands
needs flowing and unbroken
uncrippled by Love’s demands.
Perhaps if we had not named us Love…
Inspired by https://rebeccapells.com/2017/03/01/letting-go/
Distorted Image
He shatters my self-worth
with a single sentence.
“You looked prettier before
you went back to work.”
Oh God, I’m nothing.
Wait. I go to the mirror
just to see for myself.
A familiar woman
sadly stares back.
I give her a smile
brush away her tears.
Hey, I look better
since I started working.
I realize, I am not the
woman he says I am,
I am the woman
my own eyes see.
Mid-Life Sanity (Newsletter, WWTTM)
There are many avenues that a woman can take as she approaches mid-life. It’s a sharp curve in the road, where her hair begins to go gray, perversely turning silver even in areas where it’s not very wise to use hair dye.
Her muscles begin to turn soft from the inside out and she’s so glad that girdles have come back in style. She can browse through the available styles and choose anything from super firm, all over control to a gentle control panel. (As if she had any control over her tummy.)
The varicose veins are drawing pictures up her thighs and she shops in the women’s department now because browsing in the junior’s department is just a fond memory since she turned forty. Her black silk stockings used to turn heads, now they hide the spidery lines that have a life of their own and her favorite outfit is a…
View original post 1,018 more words
Paint Pink For Me
Look I see PINK Michelle Marie
Sweet memories…
Love Blooms…
Women Who Think Too Much by Jeanne Marie 
You must be logged in to post a comment.