Sunday, July 1, 2012

Dancing With Death

Hey! It's me again--The old lady with her apron.   I'm still alive!  I have been busy with life.

For some reason, death has been on my mind, perhaps because I'm getting old.  The Webster's definition for death:  The end of life.  I ask myself--When do we die?  When is the end of life?  Yesterday, today, tomorrow or forever?

In my 60 years, I have met many people who are among the walking dead.  They are dead while they are still breathing.  They are usually unhappy with their lives;  For example, they work in a job which they hate or they are in a relationship that suffocates them each morning.  There are so many times when death has come to visit and has taken a love one, and we allow death to continue controlling our lives while we are still physically alive.

I ask myself--Why are people so scared of death?  We know that death is part of life, and yet, we panic when it happens.  We act surprised when it comes knocking on our door.  My mother died when I was four years old.  Do I remember? No!  I have no memory of her existence.  The experience of losing my mother has been different for my older siblings.  They have struggled with the loss all their lives.

Personally, I don't understand why some people let death control their lives while they are still alive.  I have seen mothers who became self-destructive because of the loss of a child.  They decide not to smile or embrace their other children who are alive, instead, this type of mother has decided to suffer forever for the dead child.  Unfortunately, this type of mother has joined the walking dead.  She will live life in darkness while the sun is still shining.  There are no more rainbows in her life--No more Hope!

I don't have the perfect life but who does?  I have experienced misfortunes and death throughout my life, but I will be damned, if I allow death to take my sunshine away forever.  While I'm still breathing, I will embrace every moment with a smile.  Death is the end of suffering in my opinion.  For example, an individual who has been suffering physically and mentally with cancer, and when the day comes where he is taking his last breath, he seems to be in peace.  Why?

Sharing a couple of stories when death came knocking:  The death of my sister who died of brain cancer in 1998 was shocking. It was devastating!  After her death, darkness was my shadow.  It affected me more than my father's death.  She was younger than me.  I always expected my younger siblings to outlive me, so I was surprised and sadden by her death.

I had accepted my father's death long before he died of cancer because for many years, he would tell us that he was dying, so when it happened, I was in peace with it.  My sister who died of brain cancer was working on one her dreams--Building a house in one of the blue bonnet country sites in Texas when death came knocking.

I was angry and sadden by her death, but after so many storms, I accepted it.  I was happy that she was building one of her dreams rather than living with the walking dead when death came knocking.  She died in peace and with a smile.   Her only wish was that we wouldn't forget her and we haven't.

Every year I celebrate her birth and death by sharing a conversation with her while we listen to music of the 60's.  Birth granted her many trips to one of her favorite places,  Mexico, and a lot of  barbecue grilling with her friends and family, and at the end, death took away her physical and mental pain with cancer.  Death granted her peace.

I tell my husband not to cry when I die.  We have had some beautiful years and I just want him to embrace those beautiful memories.  I believe that there is a heaven and when we die, we go there.  My heaven is filled with beautiful flowers, music, dancing, friends, family members, and Mexican food and a suite with a comfortable bed.  I want my husband and love ones to celebrate my death with music and Mexican food.

Now, I ask my friendly readers, why does death scare you?  Political leaders like the Dictator of Nazi Germany, Adolf  Hitler, scared me more than death and the list goes on and on.

Wisdom:  Enjoy life and embrace your loves one who are still alive.  Pray for the love ones who have left us and accept their new journey to heaven or to the land of peace, in case, you don't believe in heaven.  

Let the sun shine in!  Death will not forget you!  So, dance, sing and live life to the fullest before death knocks on your door. Shame on you if you have joined the walking dead.  The sun is still shining and there is still rainbows in the sky.  Don't ever let "Hope" die.

Last words but not really, to all my friends, children, brothers and sisters, just keep dancing with life and death and don't fear the last dance!

Peace & Love to my friends and family!

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Not just an apron!

The other day as I was running into the bakery to buy my husband's birthday cake, a bright blue apron that was for sale caught my eye.  The quote on the apron said, "Calories don't count if you eat standing up."  I loved it!  So, I proceeded to ask the sales lady if the apron had pockets and how did it clip around the neck.  She looked at time at me and said, "I don't know--It's just an apron."  I smiled and said, "It's not just an apron, my dear!"  

I am 60 years old and the apron has been around since I was a little girl, if not longer.  My grandmother and mother wore an apron as they would do their chores like cooking meals for the family and cleaning the house.  The apron was our shield: It would keep our clothes clean, and if the apron had pockets, it would carry our secret notes, keys, coins, lipstick, snacks, dog treats, etc.  It wasn't just an apron!  At times it was also my security blanket which would wipe my tears when I was sad.

It also works great when you are not wearing a bra.  It covers the sagging breasts!  Yep!  I love that, since I hate wearing a bra.  A bra represents control and I hate that!  I love to let my breasts hang loose and be free.  

Personally, an apron also represents motherhood.  The women who wore aprons when I was young were people like my mother, her mother, her grandmother.  As soon as I would see my mother or grandmother put on their apron, I knew it was time to feed their children and time to clean our home.  The apron was the uniform for the real mama, the good mother, the nice mommy, so I grew up respecting the apron.

I can't wait to hear from the feminist woman/mother--An apron represents slavery, etc!  It all comes down to how we define a real woman.  I define a real woman as someone who is proud of who she is whether she is the CEO of a company or a caring mother.  The role of a good caring mother tops all the careers that are out there.

The apron doesn't intimidate me, instead, it makes me proud when I put it on every morning to feed my child and clean my home.  Being a mother with an apron is cool!

Mothers, it is time to be proud to be a mother!  Mothers will always exist!  The world needs us!  Without mothers, the world would be a sad place, in fact, it wouldn't exist!
Thank you for listening to a proud mother who loves her apron.  As you can see, my sisters of the world — An apron is not just an apron!