Early on in our courtship my husband established himself as a frequent giver of flowers, and that habit has continued for all of the years we’ve been together. Continue reading
It was September 2004 when my mental illness worsened more than ever before; due to several factors I won’t go into here. My husband was quite concerned and decided to take me to the mountains to recover. Prior to the trip, I found that my mother seemed quite unwell, always in her bed napping. My father and I discussed the matter, but he said her doctor just told her to get some rest and take some pills he prescribed for her. Continue reading
Sometimes I sit down and write a letter, e-mail, or card of appreciation to someone (or some organization) for the good work that they do, or the kindness they show me or people I care about. I didn’t always do this, especially in my youth. It is something I started to do more in my late 30s. Of course sometimes if I see them face to face, I might express the appreciation verbally. That is appreciated, but I think that when it’s written down it is often extra special. The person can keep the note or card as a memento of sorts. They may even be used as words of recommendation for others to read. Also, the writing of the expression shows an extra special effort that spoken words might not equal. Continue reading
Continuation from My very first love (Part 2)
Following my first love, Mihai, across the country was an exciting prospect. I was just so happy that he loved me enough to want me to join him, and not leave me in New Jersey. I was only about 22 years old at the time. I had never lived with a man before. I guess deep down I thought this was a first step to an eventual marriage. Continue reading
Our friend Hazel was a 6 feet tall Amazon, with a wit and intelligence just as high. Nothing matched her infectious teasing humor, and she always said what was on her mind.
Over 20 years ago, it was Hazel that first guessed that my hubby and I caught each other’s eyes. Continue reading
Consider reading My very first love (Part 1) before proceeding.
NOTE: This post contains some mild sexual content. If you are under 18 years old or prefer not to read such content, please skip this post. I only included it because it’s relevant to this part of the story. Also, I have changed the name of my Polish American female friend to Krista. Continue reading
Falling in love has never been as easy as making scrambled eggs for me. Not to say I didn’t have my fair share of crushes over my earliest years, but somehow I knew the difference between the two. Continue reading
There is satisfaction all around. Monkey baby on mama. Monkey mama with baby. My husband and I in such a beautiful environment witnessing such a bond. All of us completely free.
Photo taken in southwestern Costa Rica
I remember that this photo was taken in late May 1998, just days after my husband and I got married. We had been weaving through the beautiful narrow streets of Rome, Italy, where we spent our honeymoon. With no particular destination in mind, exploring hand in hand, I recall almost no people in the area, except a superfluity of nuns whom we passed on the street right before. Suddenly we stumbled upon this bridge, Ponte Fabricio, which we later learned is the oldest original bridge (62 BC) in Rome. This pedestrian bridge crosses the Tiber River to Isola Tiburtin, the only island in the part of the Tiber River which runs through Rome, and the smallest densely inhabited island in the world. Again, there was no one around in the vicinity except for us. Continue reading
Pluck me from this horrid place that I have lived in for so long. No, not from my literal home with you, my love, but from the jail of its inner rooms.
You know the jail itself is solely in my brain. Outside with you are miles of beauty. And yet you only ever look through my jail window at me, saturated by grey and black. Though I do see a glimpse of the outside beauty past your face, it seems surreal and distant. Your face looks sad and frustrated. I kiss it through the jail window, but we both want more. Continue reading