Category: Uncategorized

To be celibate or not

Helene RichardsonLeave a comment

Many people view sex as a light switch that they turn on and off whenever they choose, they never consider the cost involved until they are presented with a crisis that unfolds in their life and they aren’t prepared for the consequences. Relationships end sometimes leaving you with anger, misery or pain – or sometimes all three.

Some believe that abstinence from sex is only for people who are religious or spiritual but I don’t believe it’s limited to your religious conviction. I see it as a person’s choice, however I believe many are influenced by society norms and face it Americans norms have changed drastically.

You could plow through many partners before finding that gem in the grass. Well you have options – take a test drive on each new model or just use that light switch when you have a fancy to let your physical emotions lock down your self control? You are always in the driver’s seat – it’s your vehicle.

Calm

Helene RichardsonLeave a comment

There are times I find it very difficult to focus. I feel as though I’m floating in a storm. The waves rush against my body, filling my lungs with salt water as I struggle to breathe . I search to find land and the energy to propel my arms to stroke and swim to a dry spot.

I close my eyes and take deep breaths, one, two and three. I focus my thoughts and fill my lungs with positive energy that allows me to swim toward all the challenges of a new day. I know my intentions and goals will allow me to harness my energy. I am now in control of today.

Photo by stein egil liland on Pexels.com

Picture or words

Helene RichardsonLeave a comment

They say a picture is worth a thousand words – I say not so. A picture doesn’t say much about the person – you must listen to what they say – what they actually are saying to you. Those words are more valuable than a picture since they tell the story from beginning to end. A person’s words are a gateway to who they really are.
Daily writing prompt
What’s your favorite thing about yourself?
View all responses
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Motherhood

Helene RichardsonLeave a comment

What is it to be a good mother? There isn’t a manual that provides you with the precise steps to be a successful mother. No, it’s trial and error and hoping along the way it doesn’t become a disaster. Over the years of being a mother there was always a lesson to be learned and sometimes even from my children. 

Unfortunately your first born sometimes serves as your test run, they are a part of your vital education for being a mother – so trial and errors begin. Mountains of errors before you walk on flat ground.  At times the oldest will even point out , “You never treated me like that?”

There isn’t anything simple when you teach a child yes and no because some children are very inquisitive and ask why? I think this is very exasperating at times when it’s always why instead of yes. Babies are relatively easy to handle since they do not challenge you, but a toddler can be overwhelming.  Incessant  chatter, demolition of the house and of course, they love to say no! It’s easy to comfort them when they fall, you kiss them and give them many hugs. You tell them you love them and they never question that love – quite different when they get older.

As they grow you begin to try to mold them into individuals that would grow up to be productive human beings, yet you want them to be unique. They are your shining stars and with every achievement your heart swells with pride, and you  think they aren’t ordinary but very special. You live vicariously through your children and think just maybe they will do everything you hoped for.

Along the road you travel with them, You teach them  to respect others; self worth, discipline, and solid values. You guide them to walk that straight narrow and hope they won’t stray or compromise their belief system – or really it’s your belief system. You teach them not to lie or steal and you teach them that each action rather good or bad always comes with consequences. You hope these values sink into the core of their existence. And if you’re spiritual you stay in a positive realm – that your children will be fine. If you are  religious your kids attend church and you hope they discover that having faith can sustain many disappointments that they may encounter in the future. 

When you have to discipline your children – you hide your tears until you can cry in the privacy of your room because no parent ever wants to cause any discomfort by scolding the love of their life –  you love your children  relentlessly  – they are the best of you. You choose your battles carefully because you carry such love for them. Sometimes you were too sharp with them, sometimes inpatient and even sometimes you were selfish and hoped they would occupy themselves whereas you would have time for yourself. Being a mother can become exhausting at times.  All the many times you didn’t really listen because mothers too, become self absorbed in their own issues. After all contrary to what your growing children think you are not invincible – you are a human too and each day you are evolving in different ways just as  they are.

The time comes when they are young adults and it tugs at your heart and you wonder where the years disappeared.  However for you they will always be your babies. You marvel with their new found independence, you applaud their success and you weep when they fall short but you always tell them they have the power to succeed at whatever their endeavors will be.  

Motherhood was a challenge and along the way you wrote your own manual of the do’s and don’ts of being a mother.   You made your share of mistakes and a few regrets that linger close. You carried them over the  mountains sometimes with tears, but the laughter that followed was always abundant. You are so proud of your children who are now young adults. It was a pleasure to be their mother and you are forever indebted for the privilege of motherhood.. 

Death and Healing

Helene RichardsonLeave a comment

I lost my husband six years; one month and sixteen days ago and finally I think it’s time to rebuild my life. I’m still not sure what that means but I know it’s not sitting in my room, crying, eating, cleaning the house until I am exhausted and chain smoking cigarettes. I finally came to the realization that you would not be happy with the person I had succumbed to. I actually contemplated that I would grieve forever that this should be my destiny.. I’m still not sure what that means but I do know now life is much more than grief.

I was frightened because I couldn’t picture you anymore. The image that visited me was a nineteen year old young man, vibrant, handsome and fearless. I had to pick up a photograph to remember you as you had become, the small details of your face. The etches and grooves and sagging skin that came with age but also too many illnesses back to back that stole into your life like a thief without warning.

I couldn’t remember your wonderful scent. I find myself constantly opening your cologne especially Jimmy Choo your favorite , and the aroma is a reminder of a time when you were near. I kept most of your clothing, couldn’t part with those items so dear to my heart. Your favorite shirts and pants they still hang in your closet. Sometimes late at night, really in the wee hours of morning. I get up and put on one of your sweaters. I needed all these things to cushion my loss.

People would tell me with time it would be okay, after all time healed everything but that was not so. Time doesn’t change how you feel when you love someone as I have loved you. You just don’t cry as often but the pain of loving and losing follows you, it’s like a fine thread that gets caught on your pants leg. and pulls you back . You go places that you two used to go together. You listen to laughter, watch couples holding hands or just walking together and you feel a stab in your heart. And you ask if only I had just a little more time? You know all the things you would do if you had more time. You think about the silly arguments, but also the times you both cried together, yes I miss it all.

I miss it so much. I miss hearing you debate with someone and how you refused to be on the losing end. I miss eating from your plate although I know you didn’t like it , but I did it anyway. Our late night walks at the deserted beach , how we took off our shoes and let the water nip at our feet. I even enjoyed watching you sleep knowing then peace came to you then in your dreams. I miss our shopping trips to the maul. I miss you washing my back because I always had a problem stretching my arm. I miss you making me fried eggs well done and hash browns when I worked late. I never liked eggs but when you made them – well its was like having a nice dinner. Your youngest daughter tried to fix me a fried egg and I think it may have come in at a seven but never a ten. I miss laying on your chest while you read. I miss you calling me Terri because no one has ever called me Terri but you. I miss dancing for you in my bare feet.in the rain, you said it was foolish but how you bubbled over with laughter. And the gladiolas three dozen every two weeks. I remember how I complained about why so many considering I had to clip them? No one gives me gladiolas now.

And it saddens my heart that has so many cracks that I don’t think they can be mended. You always thought of me. I knew you were sick and knew how you said you were so very tired not being able to do the things you used to. What did I say to you – find something else to do. I think you knew that time was of essence. And you crammed as much as you could into our lives; taking me places, buying me gifts and telling me how beautiful I still was. All those things you said and did for me.

And the day before your funeral it was Valentines day. A delivery of flowers, three dozen yellow roses. I thought to myself roses are not appropriate however when I read the card it was from you. You said I know you love gladiolas but I think these will do. Thank you for all you have done for me. I am your greatest fan. I broke down in tears and I thought, no I was your greatest fan. Even when you were nearing your star in the sky, you thought of me.

So now I will rebuild my life without you.. I will try to make sense of what the impending future holds for me. I will do some of the things I always thought of doing but never did. I will listen to that small voice in my head – that is actually telling me to write- you can make your dream become a reality – that is your voice.

I will begin the tedious process of finding an audience for my stories; plays, screenplays – everything that was completed years ago but was never really circulated – my fear of rejection hindered my growth. Now I will do these things without fear of failure but instead only the possibility of becoming who I was always meant to be.

Six years, one month and sixteen days. No more grieving because I choose to live for both of us. I know you will be there cheering me on because you were and always will be my biggest fan.

Marriage

Helene RichardsonLeave a comment

Watch how the flowers bloom. From a tiny seed they sprout and thrive from the nutrients in the soil, sun and water. As time passes they grow into beautiful, colorful flowers that dance in the sunlight.

Flowers that are not attended to die and wither away, with their beauty disappearing into the soil as it is with a marriage that isn’t nurtured. A marriage requires love, patience, understanding, friendship and forgiveness in order to continually bloom.

Love is forever

Where is Hope

Helene RichardsonLeave a comment

My heart has shattered many times and each time I have had to search deeper to put the pieces together, yet his mind has shattered too many times and recently it seems as though it takes too long to make him into an imitation of the person he used to be.  Tears flow as a meandering spring – tears that I wipe and dab at and  many times I say they are finally as dry as a fine piece of mud that has set in the scorching sun too long.  And when the wind comes so it blows the particles away, but that is what I would like to believe that my tears have finally disappeared evaporated into the wind – only they have not.

Each time he has a relapse it worst than the one before and it is very difficult when he can not acknowledge my presence – how I wish he could call out my name – say mom I need you, but he can’t.  I think what hurts the most is staring into his blank empty light brown eyes that are now so dark.  He is blinded by the world that evolves around him.  He has become a passive bystander that has lost his step in life and I am so angry at life and his fate.

A mother has a responsiblity to her child, it does not matter if he is five or thirty it never changes even with the passing of time.  The years have disappeared, he is no longer sixteen – he is now thirty-five, but all my wonderful memories are of a young, vibrant and loving son.  I think that is what sustains me in the difficult times that never cease to be – I think of the past and long desperately for that wonderful young man to appear again.

I close my eyes and daydream of him and I remember, yes I remember as he was before that horrible illness stole my son from me.  I think of all the many doctors, the different treatments, the many prayers and I wonder why?  Why has this horrible thief  taken my son’s mind and wiped his dreams into oblivion.  I have so much hatred in my heart – I hate the word schizophrenia.