Living Proof

Most of my life growing up, I never ate dinner alone. We'd all sit around the table and eat dinner together. We were fortunate enough to always have had a homemade dinner made for us, and of course, the Friday night takeout was a given. I'd sometimes invite a friend over for dinner because their parents were both working, and there was always enough food to go around at our house. Mom was always gracious and hospitable, shoveling huge portions of food onto my friend's plate as their eyes bulged out from mere shock. I didn't understand how my friends could walk into an empty house after school, as I was always greeted by mom, making sure I got off the bus okay. There was never a day when she wasn't at the bus stop. Sometimes, we'd all get together in the living room and watch a movie that was rented from the local video store. That was like a huge event for us. Nobody was on their cell phones texting or SnapChatting  -- we were all together doing exactly the ...

With all of the wonderful clichés and platitudes that I can possibly throw at you like, "Life's too short," "Enjoy the moment," or even, "Now is the only time you have," -- it's become more of an empty mantra than it is an actual practice. We seem to plaster them up all over our Facebook walls and Twitter accounts, and most have yet to even use the advice that was given. I remember my wife had her parents over for dinner. I cooked a nice dinner and we were enjoying our conversation afterwards on the couch. I had placed all the dishes back into the kitchen and then headed back into the living area to chitchat over wine. Madelene decided to go back into the kitchen to wash the dishes and then come back out to talk with her parents, who she rarely sees. I took notice because her absence was felt, so I took it upon myself to walk inside the kitchen area and said, "The dishes can wait. Your parents are leaving soon. Talk to them." It was at...

There's a lot to be said about what kind of energy that goes into whatever it is you do, especially cooking. See, I love to cook, so all my heart and soul goes into whatever I'm making. Another personal touch I do is praying over my food while it cooks. I make sure I have upbeat music going on and I'm usually in a great mood. The only time I order takeout, is if I'm not feeling so hot -- whether physically or emotionally. I truly believe whatever energy you have brewing inside you will also reflect in whatever you are cooking. Again, this can be through a physical ailment or some sort of emotional distress. I'll give both examples: I once got very ill the same day I ate Pizza Hut when I was younger. Still to this day, I cannot even look at Pizza Hut's pies. They make me nauseous. And now, I never eat pizza, period. I just don't like it. On an emotional scale, I remember my partner and I had a huge blowout at home. I believe it was one of our worst argument...

Yesterday afternoon, Madelene and I went to go to the farm to pick out our Christmas tree. Y'all know me better than to think that I chopped it down myself. (I have no idea why I got all southern on y'all.) It was really nice though, because we walked through the rows of firs, wreaths and homemade ornaments that were so beautiful. There were a ton of assorted Christmassy lanterns hanging up above in various colors that lit up the long outdoor aisles. At the end of the row, I noticed a very large wreath that had homemade red roses made out of nylon or some sort of similar material. It also included large metal rods that were meant to be placed into the ground of someone's graveside. In the middle of the wreath it said, "DAD". I instantly got a lump in my throat and my eyes started to well up with tears. When Madelene finally caught up with me, she looked down and then looked up at me. "Get it, Deb..." I couldn't speak. If I were to try, I'd...

It must be that time of year, because I constantly keep thinking and talking about my dad a lot. It's only been two years since he passed, yet I sometimes feel like he's still here in a way. I still have those dreams, where I wake up in the dream while meeting him, and I always say, "Is it really you, Dad?" And he quickly motions his hands to come over, "Yeah yeah -- it's really me, hurry!" We have a 10 second "meet time" where we hug and say hello and then it's over just. like. that. Poof. Gone. I wake up almost instantly, either smiling or crying. It depends. I do believe these "meetings" in my dreams are real, because I verify it right in the dream itself. "Is it really you?" Or, "Is this real?" -- Meaning, 'am I really and truly seeing you in my dream as an actual meeting' sort of question. But why for only 10 seconds or less? During Mom's last day of radiation when they made her ring a b...

On a clear day, without a cloud in the sky, we'd run over to the sprinklers in our one piece bathing suits, hopping around carefree. It was usually while waiting for the pool to officially open. Grandma would be plucking peas out from their pods in a huge cast iron pot and husking corn outside on the patio while watching us all play. It was a simple life. Our greatest concern was running out of iced tea. Mom would be inside preparing dinner and getting everything ready by the time Dad came home at 5pm. Dad would start the barbecue grill up and if you weren't already sitting around the picnic table, you'd hear him yell, "C'mon! It's gonna get cold on yaz'!" After dinner, we'd usually wash up and get into our PJs and then gather around the living room television set to watch All in the Family, Carol Burnett and Happy Days . Happy days… I don't remember a sad one back then. I wanted to grow up so bad. I wanted to drive a car and do adult...

Simplicity is hard to achieve, and yet it sounds so simple. It's not. There's no such thing as a peaceful and quiet life. The simple things start acting up: small and major appliances start to breakdown, roof repairs due to leaks, schedules that push away family and friends, a loved one gets ill, a loved one passes, and on and on. Life isn't made to be simple. I found that out the hard way. Yes, they tell me to 'dance in the rain' and 'be calm during the storm', but sometimes, it's kind of frustrating when it feels like you just never get a break from any of these 'small inconveniences' in life. And when the big inconveniences come waltzing through -- you're just dumbfounded. You get the hazy mile long stare and lose hope of anything good; anything simple. It seems impossible. And then there's faith. Things aren't always what they seem. Sometimes I call it the "rose colored glasses syndrome" because I have held my ...

Too much for the mind... Some say that when you reach your 40's, you're wiser and more spiritually in tune. Some believe you need to reach the age of 40 in order to read the Torah, otherwise the words will never be fully understood. They say it would be too much for the mind to handle. For me, I believe it's more of a spiritual sense whether you've developed it like a muscle or if you were truly blessed to reach that level of understanding. I guess for years I was more of a closet spiritual person, more of a closet Christian. Not to say that I was ashamed of my religion, but I didn't want to bump heads with anyone who believed differently than I did until I was well into my adulthood. At that point, I didn't care. I didn't care if people thought I was a "crazy Christian" or some kook who just had hallucinations of God Himself. It's funny, because I have friends that ask me a million questions about my beliefs and how to read the bible to wh...