Dead Grass

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The grass I cut a week ago are lying dead and dry on the ground, but I leave them be.  Agitated birds perched  atop nearby trees are singing merry tunes this cool and still Saturday afternoon, and just might find them later when it’s time to build nests. Everything seems fine with my feathered and winged friends this part of the universe.  I wonder if they know how fragile their world has become and how precariously it is seated at the precipice– staring down the  void of destruction waiting below.

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I’m Finally Grieving

MY cousin one day posted on Facebook an old family photo of my dad’s family, circa 1960’s [years before I was born, though].  It shows my grandma and grandpa, all their grown up sons and daughters, and in-laws.  My dad, the eldest of the brood, looks really young and dashing, and my mom, very pretty and fashionable in her classic dress.  All of a sudden, I was hit by a great pang of longing and the floodgates open:I burst into tears, literally crying buckets and  I couldn’t seem to stop.  My mind conjures hundred of memories of them, reeling like old movies–my dad taking pictures of us kids, my mother watering her rows of red and white anthuriums; my dad playing, and singling along to, his favorite Sinatra songs, my mom cooking dinner after dashing home from work; my dad fixing some broken appliance, his perpetually broken eyeglasses perched on his nose, and my mom sewing me a dress for a piano recital.   There were many more sad and happy moments I recalled within those long minutes I was slumped on that chair sobbing my heart out.  And interspersed with these bittersweet recollections is the regret of taking for granted their presence and the many times I wasted being angry, resentful and rebellious, to them. But there is also the feeling of relief that finally, I could grieve their passing instead of ignoring and bottling up my sorrow all these long, lonely months… :((

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[My dad, in a dark suit, seated beside grandma, and my mom, in a printed dress, standing behind him]

Ten Things That Comfort Me

I guess everyone has their low moments every now and then.  I’ve been having bouts of depression [not the clinical kind of course], which I attribute to several factors I would rather keep to myself at the moment.  In an effort to divert myself, I made up this list [thanks to tumblr writing prompts which gave me the idea] of sources of comfort or outlets as they are commonly called, that I believe helped me make it through the night.

10. Watching my Favorite Old/New Movies

I love the Harry Potter series [yes I know I blogged about it like a hundred times already :)]. I can’t explain it but there is something about these movies that endlessly fascinate me.  Julia Roberts is my absolute favorite so watching her past movies brightens me up.

9. Eating Chocolates/Junk Food

My girls consider me a serious contender in the Junk Food eating race.  They may not know it but every time  I  ask one of them to dash to the store to buy some, I am going though a rough patch.  As we gather round to pig out on, and enjoy the crunchy, spicy and sinfully delicious stuff, my despondency lies forgotten for a while.

8.  Wearing sexy undies

Specially when husband is on the other end of the line.  Actually, it comforts me that I never grew fat and lumpy and he tells me he still finds me sexy after all this time and despite being older than him.

7. Listening to my favorite music station or my mp3 playlist

Who doesn’t? Music is a universal soother and pacifier.

 

 

6. Crying in the Dark

I hate to admit this, but I’m a cry baby.  But this crying-in-the-dark scenario is when I’m really, really stressed out and down the pit.  And it’s the after-math of the crying bout that calms my spirit.

5. Reading Romance Novels

I’m a sucker for happy endings.  Though I have outgrown these kinds of books, I sometimes turn to them for escape.

4. Reading Salman Rushdie

I’ve read a lot of writers but I find Rushdie’s prose so emotionally powerful and provocative. I love his non-fiction “Imaginary Homelands” the most.  It just blows me away every time.

3. Leafing through old photographs

My mother has these home-made photo albums where she makes a running commentary and labels them with the wrong event on the wrong year and our wrong ages.  I get a kick looking at a photo of me which said “Grace at age 8” when I was already 12 when it was taken.  Those childhood memories are sweet.

2. Praying

I’m not a very religious person.  But I  doubt if its merely coincidence that whenever I feel really hopeless and resort to prayers, my perspective comes back and they [prayers] are usually answered, and mostly when I’m desperate and needed solutions to problems.

1. Writing

I can’t remember the first time I started writing.  Not that I am one professionally.  For me it’s a catharsis and renews me.  When I started this blog, it got even better for me, knowing I have an audience out there, no matter how few or indifferent.