Up Too Late

I often find myself up too late, lying in my bed, unable to sleep. Worse yet, I stare at my computer thinking that since I can't sleep, well, obviously I must be destined to write something brilliant. I can't just be...up for no reason.  Unfortunately, more often than not...nothing really comes to mind.

Christmas just ended, not quite an hour ago. I'm exhausted, but here I am, trying to make sense of my insomnia.  Go figure. Memo to me: New Year's Resolution - get more sleep....

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHA! (Yeah, right)

Well Happy New Year to everyone! Resolve to laugh. I think we can all use a little laughter.

All the Tiny Tims

The other day I was watching a cheezy tear-jerker Christmas movie (my favorite kind) on the Hallmark Channel.  It was yet another of the countless versions of "A Christmas Carol" by Charles Dickens. As I watched I realized that no matter what kid they get to play Tiny Tim, I still cry every time he/she sings or says "God bless us everyone!" It's not the kid, mind you, it's the look on the faces of everyone else. It's the look of helplessness, because they know this child they love is in pain, probably dying, and they can do nothing to stop it.

I often write about my frustrations and tribulations with my health, and my experiences in connection with it. It's what I know, and what I deal with everyday. Thinking about the Tiny Tims in the world or more accurately, the ones who love those Tiny Tims, made me realize how blessed I really am. If someone has to be hurting, I'd rather it was me.  What parent with a sick child wouldn't do anything to change places, or give their life in exchange, rather than bare the loss. How many people see their close friends in pain and wish there were something they could do? How many wives have to watch their husbands suffer with cancer,  feeling powerless.  How many lovers must merely watch, as the ones they love die slowly of AIDS.  It's all around.

This season is held up as a wonderful happy time, but for so many...it's not. There's so much I can't do anything about...but hey, I can call someone and let them know I care. I can offer a hug or a listening ear. I can invite someone to dinner, or for coffee. I don't plan to wait for visitations from the Ghosts of Christmas, before I try reaching out.

This season isn't about the gifts we buy, but the gifts we give. It's not our presents, but our presence. 
Happy Holidays Friends! And "God bless us everyone!"

Caren E. Salas

Thank you to Robin Harrison for this photo from "A Christmas Carol" CSUDH

Waiting...

     Looking on the bright side, the hours spent in one waiting room after another (after another) gives me time to write. As I scribble into my little notebook, I realize that this particular waiting room is at least painted in bright colors and has colorful floral prints hanging on the walls.  The atmosphere attempts to be cheerful even if the general mood is not.  Everything will be fine, we tell ourselves, but there is always at least a part of us feeling the doubt and fear that maybe...it won't be so fine.
    This is the third medical appointment in as many days, and I still have one tomorrow and a lab yet to be scheduled.
    No one talks really. The only sounds are magazine pages turning and the occasional throat clearing or nervous sigh. I'm moved from one waiting room to another, soon to be moved to the procedure room.  Knowing that the "procedure" won't necessarily hurt, doesn't really alleviate the anxiety.  Having had the procedure before doesn't calm me either. All I can do...is do what they say and try to relax. I know there are lots of people much worse off than me: people who have to go through much worse experiences. I try to think about that and pray that I don't end up being one of those people eventually.  Maybe that's why I feel the way I do. I'm only a few tests away from the really scary stuff.  Well, I guess I shouldn't get ahead here. One uncomfortable issue at a time, I always say. So here I go. It's my turn.

It's Coming...

     There's something a little sad about winter (even in California).  Not that it's here yet of course, but it's coming. The days get shorter, and I swear they go by faster.  As I get closer to the holidays I try not to put too much expectation on things, and yet it seems impossible not to. I want the happy endings you always see in the movies. You all know what I'm talking about.  No matter what horrible events take place, everything works out in the end and everyone comes together for a wonderful Christmas dinner full of smiles and love.  But that's not what real life is like, is it? Bad stuff happens and it's not always hunkie dorrie in the end.  Loved ones die, people are hungry, others are depressed, some will even commit suicide.  So as I face another winter, and another holiday season, I'm hoping to go into it merely with the expectation of making it through unscathed. Anything more than that, is whip cream on the pumpkin pie, so to speak.

So here we go. Wish me luck - the same to you.

Slow down!

Today we celebrated my youngest child's 11th birthday. How did this happen? My "baby" cannot be 11! Next year she starts middle school. Wasn't it only yesterday I cradled her in my arms?  It truly does not seem fair that my body is slowing down so much and yet time seems to be zipping along at the speed of light.  Granted, there is that little detail about me having a chronic medical condition, but still!  I'm way too young to feel this freaking OLD!  I hate when people mention those quaint cliches like "you're only as old as you feel," because I feel ancient. How about we change that to: "you are as young as you wish you were!" Yeah, that's the ticket. I know, right? I can try and feel young, I can wish I were young, but my body tells me otherwise. Whatcha' gonna' do? There's only one option I'm afraid, and I'm going with it: straight out denial.
Works for me.

Je T'aime

I love the French language. Despite the obvious advantages of learning Spanish (considering that I live in California, and about three hours from Mexico) I decided to take French in high school. I loved the way it sounded, and how I felt speaking it.  I daydreamed of visiting Paris, and traveling across the French countrysides with it's vineyards and chateaux. As it turned out I did get to visit France, and absolutely loved it. I'm sure the people I met there thought my French was atrocious, but I think they appreciated the effort. I was thinking about this wonderful language because..for one thing, I really want to brush up on it  (why? I have no idea. I just want to).  The other reason is that I was thinking about friends and how thankful I am for my friends.  The word for "friend" in French is "ami". The way to say the verb "to love" in french is "aimer". Looks pretty close to me.  It's like they are saying that love is part of the meaning of friendship.  In English, it seems the word "friend" is thrown around and used for any mere acquaintance.  I suppose we have other words that qualify the term. There's "best" friend, or "close" friend, but I like to think that those I love could just be called "amis".  Works for me. So....Adieu Mes Amis! Au Revoir! Je T'aime!

Dog Heaven

Last weekend we took our dog, Whiskey, to the dog beach.  He was so happy running around on the sand, free of leashes and fences, chasing his ball, splashing in the surf a bit, sniffing other dogs and making friends.  He was in dog heaven. Of course, I love that he loves the beach, because, well, I love the beach. It's my favorite place. He's my favorite dog.  Okay, he's my only dog. But hey, it's fun to say that I'm going to hang out on the beach with a little Whiskey.