Imagine yourself walking under the moonlight alone but your hoodie keeping  you warm and loved with the entire city lights cheering you on as you take one step at a time towards home- whatever  home may be to you. You plugged in your earphones and Lauren Marsh’ Dear Love plays along. “Tap, tap, tap.” The rain joined the bittersweet chorus of your heart.  You looked up and felt the sweet kisses of raindrops on your cheeks.  As it became stronger, it’s  warmth faded away. Now you’re  left alone cold in the dark. You found yourself looking through the stained glass window of a taxi. Pitiful rain, such betrayal. You took a long sigh and fogged up the glass. Why can’t my heart stop beating? And it beats  louder and louder like those ritual Djembe drum dances from West Africa. It went silent. “Tap. Tap. Tap.” There goes the rain again. I seemingly heard an invitation or so I thought.

Mormon 8

It’s  Monday and I’m  running late. But I have to start on that  list somehow. I chose to start  with reading Mormon 8 of the Book of Mormon.  I am nowhere near being a Spiritual Guru, not even a student. But I love studying (not reading) the Book of Mormon because it gives me comfort  and peace knowing that I am not alone and forgotten. I feel the Spirit testifying that all that is written in the book is part of 0our history. I feel Moroni as once a living individual, just like you, just  like me.  I feel him strongly  talking and his words were written from his heart. I know the book is true. Everything in it is true. It’s  even more genuine than what is written about our political history. I love being a Mormon.  

One More Light

And yet, I am still grieving.

All my happy moments will always be the saddest. For it is a dreadful reminder that you’re gone. Can you see that I am sad? I will always be sadder than the saddest girl in the world.

When the day passes and darkness lurks;when everyone is calmly tucked in bed; dishes done, and I hear nothing but the whisks of crickets in the night and the croaks of frogs under the timid dance of rain, the subtle cold of emptiness draws on me. How I envy time, for every tick, there’s  a tock. I hear it louder and louder. The silence inside me is deafening. There’s no cure. I turned off the dimming light, and slowly set my pace into a deep sleep. I finally  made it through another day.

Let Me Begin Again

What is good about living is the limitless count of starting over again. President Gordon B. Hinckley, prophet and seer, once  affirmed that man only fails when he quits trying. So I am going to have this second take on my life. Sorrow lurks from the deepest part of me and it is NOT making me happy. Grief is devouring me. Envy is taking control of how I feel towards others. Regrets are swelling in my belly. It is no fun at all. So I decided to begin again. Easier and friendlier this time. I am befriending me. If no one seems to care for me, then I will love myself. The mind is the most powerful tool in the course of history. Allowing  it to dwell in pain and brokenness limits its capacity to grow even more beautiful. I am dictating my mind to start again. One take at a time. Survival mode if I must.

Today is day one. It  is 7: 36 a.m. and I’m  late. 😥 I will start correcting my meals today. Listen beyond words. And offer a hand.  Those shouldn’t  be too hard, eh? It’s like mastering  the “A” before  going  through all the letters in the alphabet. So,  today is my “A”.


The 25th Story

I have been dragging myself to take this big leap, not because I hate writing, (oh goodness I can do it for a lifetime and a day!),  but because I was too scared to dig deep into my pile of memories. But here I am, paddling my way back into shore using only words. 

I’ve been widowed at the age of 30. I’ve been married for seven beautiful years. Now do the math. No, I didn’t marry at 25. I married at 23 on the 25th of March. He died on the 25th of October. When life tosses it’s dice and you unluckily lose, there are no second chances. The whole world as you know it changes. And so my journey began.

My bestfriend died. There is no rebound box for sorrow and grief. What now I can’t say out loud, I want to write it. I want my kids to know how everything all felt. I know it is never going to be easy. My whole world had changed. I was truly the happier than the happiest woman on earth on the 25th. And that fateful 25th crushed all I’ve dreamed of. That dreadful 25th.