Driving That Train…or Vacation!

Driving that train…

No. Not the Casey Jones’ song as I wasn’t driving any train and LORD truly knows I don’t do cocaine!!

But…

I was on a train, an Amtrak train.

Rolling, rolling, rolling up to Massachusetts to Arlington.

To be exact en route to visit my niece, my adopted niece who I consider family as my mom considered her to be.

It’s all good…

It has been a while and let’s be transparent and say years since I had a vacation. My vacay buddy, mom (who will forever be 91 years) could no longer travel and I decided to stay close to home near her. Mind you, she didn’t agree with my decision but felt comforted knowing I was just upstairs.61060119_10219548377085814_932831570585190400_n

But onto traveling for the first time in so long.

As I mentioned before, I was on an Amtrak train, not driving but here’s a look at what a driver might have seen:

giphy

For the longest time I planned to visit my niece and mom’s upcoming birthday, oh better yet, first birthday without her here on earth, seemed appropriate enough, to get on that train.

And I did…

Rolling, rolling, rolling.

Amtrak rocked and cradled my bod as green trees and concrete buildings passed by the window. 200.gif

Leaving NYC…

so exciting, when the mind is in the present.

Returning NYC…

not exciting when the mind is in the present.

Ease of transportation had avoided my niece for a while, regulating her to trains and buses. Luckily, she inherited her mom’s used Toyota Yaris!

So, she drove…

and refused to let me drive through turn arounds, round abouts’ or whatever you wanna call them.

All good because…

on Mom’s birthday we drove.

We drove to Gloucester and walked along the cold sandy grey beach with dark clouds floating over our heads. The cold sand massaged my feet and grounded my soul.IMG_0814.jpg

So needed…

with grieving and missing you.IMG_0822.JPG

 

 

 

 

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The Fisherman’s Memorial, the picture I took of the names of the fisherman lost at sea and portrayed in the movie; ‘The Perfect Storm’ stirred in mi alma.
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The families of those men and myself share the final ending of knowing a loved one will not be returning.

At Lexington, I learned more about the Revolutionary War than I cared to absorb but…IMG_0840.jpg

I was grateful to have the history told to us by a volunteer dressed in clothing of the time. IMG_0833.jpg

Harvard, yes, we went there.

Although the trip wasn’t to visit the photography archives of the United Fruit Company, a research project I was so into while aiming for my Masters, being on campus was a reminder of what is still attainable, still researchable.

We stopped at a GAP where I bought ‘boyfriend Chino pants’ and argued with my niece because…well that’s what we do and we do it well.

Vegan Galaxy?!!!!

Best Vegan joint I’ve eaten at. The place makes their own vegan burger which just may surpass Impossible Burger.

Along our driving we ventured to the quarry at Halibut Point. At that point I was tired and wanted to get the cake mom always had at our birthdays.IMG_0825.jpg

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We drove to Woodman’s and ordered two slices of Strawberry Shortcake which was mom’s favourite cake to have on our birthdays.

Once we arrived at my niece’s apartment we broke out the cake and I must say it was the best Strawberry Shortcake I ever, ever, ever, ever…

had.

Thank you, mom for I feel you had a hand in this day, your birthday and making sure I enjoyed it to the fullest with my niece, who you accepted as family.

Happy Birthday Mom, my mom!

Acceptance and Resignation, stronger than a hammer but not weaker than the nail or…Sometimes they come back.

Mom, my mom, would often quote a verse to me during my moments of frustration intolerance with life not going according to my plan.

“Accept the things you cannot change…”412

Oh lordy how those words bugged the crap out of me.

This is MY life, MY destiny, MY footprint on existing, MY, MY, and definitely MY!

I refused to accept, concede to, acknowledge or resign to her advice. Everything, absolutely everything can be changed with perseverance, determination and straight up ghetto refusal.

Naw man. Everything.

I have the power and ability to change, the perseverance to guide and shape while steering the helm of the wheel, the sole master of my world.

This is MY life, MY destiny, MY footprint on existing, MY, MY, and definitely MY!

Well…

HIM, yes, the one Noah built an ark for, the same one Moses climbed the mountain for and also the one whom Mary became pregnant for, put me in my place, disrupted my inner peace, laid down the law and let me know destiny belongs to no one but HIM.The Habby and the Mommy

Pancreatic cancer latched on to my mom and won’t let go.

 Like a soft whisper, a gentle wind caressing a cheek,

A touch of cotton soaked in cold witch hazel against the face on a hot summer day,

Ice cream in a cone, silky like velvet, on the tongue

Satisfying that sweet tooth…

Pancreatic cancer latched on to my mom and won’t let go.

I’ve cried the same thousand tears that bent my lashes inward when I cried for Pi Patel.

Pi Patel passed into shadow…suddenly. No whisper no warning. No ice cream or witch hazel on a hot summer day.   imagejpeg_2 (3)

My mom is dying…

slowly in front of my being that longs to have her like I did back in the day when I was a baby and she was my mother taking care of me and working so hard to support a family that society deemed should be supported by a man but family’s man had long gone back to his country to find solace, peace and acceptance that didn’t exist  in the new world he hoped to call home.

Enough.

Love my dad but this isn’t about him.

It’s about my mom

She thought at first it was a return of the stage 4 colon cancer of the past, because sometimes they come back.  The boys and mom 019

Which it did.

In another form, in another place

where it intends to stay

till death do us part.

Mom ACCEPTS the cancer.

Mom ACCEPTS the diagnosis.

Mom ACCEPTS

And RESIGNS to let what will be, be.

And I resign to accept there are things that cannot be changed.

I so love you mom, my mom!      CCI05102014_0000

005       30

Sometimes…or have a lot of time on hand.

 

‘Sometimes you need bad things to happen to inspire you to change and grow’

Sometimes…

Growth has no end or beginning.  Image result for sometimes

Sometimes…

Change is constant with no restrictions, boundaries or cut offs.

Sometimes…

Inspiration comes from places least expected.

Sometimes…

Things happen for a reason.

Sometimes…

There’s no logic to why things happen.

Image result for sometimesSometimes…

Bad things happen to good people.

Sometimes…

Bad things happen to bad people.

Sometimes…

Good things happen to good people.

Sometimes…

Nothing happens at all to anyone.    Image result for images of sometimes

Sometimes…

The way to win a battle is to walk away.

Sometimes…

Walking away leads to the battle.

Sometimes…

Dark, rainy grey clouds bring a smile.

Sometimes…

White cotton candied clouds make you sick.

Sometimes…

Silence is golden.

Sometimes…

Screaming profanities at high volume is bliss.

Sometimes…

Bliss.

Sometimes…

Disruption.

Sometimes    

Image result for images of sometimes

 

Smiling faces…or Reality Bites

I work with them and so do you…there’s no getting around it, no putting it on the side…you know who they are.  Image result for smiling faces

They smile in your face, play the extrovert full of empathy that’s really apathy meanwhile you see the fakeness, the fake emotions while they shove you under the bus.

“Play the game” close confidents whisper in your ear. Nod your head, say yes and pamper their whimsical hysterical demands. Hey, they make more than you so suck it up.

When the time comes when enough is enough, do you go postal, cursing with eloquent profanity, blazing high pitched and on target as you sashay out the door?

Or do you smile, weakly, tuck the tail up where the sun can’t shine, walk backwards out the door, bowing and saying, “Oh so sorry. Me quit”.

Who has the answers to dealing with those ‘smiling faces’ 35 plus hours a week?

I don’t.

Actually, I do.   Image result for smiling faces

From those packs of smiling hyenas there are those who shine through.

They are sincere…

They are supportive…

They are encouraging…

They are…

the coworkers you love to work with!

But always remember:

Smiling faces sometime pretend to by your friend

Work, werk, Work

I work on the weekends without a lunch break

Werk   Image result for ball and chain

I work from the moment I get up till I close my eyes at night

Werk

I don’t get overtime hours but at times you’d think I do

Work

I work for something I believe in while others don’t

Work    Image result for working for something you believe in

My salary does not correspond to the work I do

Work

Actually,  my salary is the lowest on the workplace totem pole

Work.

 

Education titles don’t mean a thang if you don’t have that kiss ass swing

Work

Still waiting on the LORD to buy me that Mercedes benz

Werk     Image result for working on the chain gang

I guess I’ll keep working till I’m in my grave

Work

Or from working, I’ll end up in my grave

Work

 

 

*** pictures from the World Wide Web

*pictures are not representative of the work I do BUT in my mind-Hell yeah.

Feeling blue…or not feeling groovy

Sometimes feeling blue is ok

blue is ambiguous, hazy, vague and unclear   pep

feeling sad is not

sadness is pretty much clear, singled out with pity parties thrown but not in your honour

Sometimes feeling blue is ok

feeling blue its totally acceptable-look how many songs about being blue are out there

feeling sad is not   dog

people run away as if you’ve contracted the plague -sadness, we all know is highly contagious

Sometimes feeling blue is ok

blue is an acceptable colour, blue skies, blue eyes, blueberries even playing the blues has colour

feeling sad is not

sad is gloomy and dark, no colour hues like blue just tears, frowns and being down ht

Sometimes feeling blue is ok

like when long standing relationships end because the glitter that kept them going has been thrown and scattered so many times there’s just nothing left

feeling sad is not

especially when you go around trying to pick up those specks of glitter and end up with dust bunnies attached

Sometimes feeling blue is ok download

when it rains on your parade and then, behold, the sun comes through bringing fairies and yellow rays of sun

feeling sad is not

when you try to open an umbrella to starve off the rain on your parade and the wind turns the umbrella inside out and you’re too busy cursing and fighting with the wind and you accidentally knock a fairy upside the head along with the single yellow ray of sun that was guiding it

Sometimes feeling blue is ok

When you buy a hot dog to make you feel better cause the stress at work is bringing you down

Feeling sad is not

you forgot to order sauerkraut with that hotdog and once you take a bite, the bun is stale and you already walked too far from the vendor to run back and curse him out

Sometimes feeling blue is ok

yike

 

On Running…or random acts of self-gloating.

Running, seriously keeps me in the moment, in the present, with thoughts dabbing tearfully at the past and  plans my hand enjoys squashing like a giant bug swatter dealing with the future.

The act of running,

Is not running…

It’s training to run. IMG_2504

Training is…

Humiliating, teaching one to be humble during a race as gastrointestinal issues make an unexpected appearance before hitting a porta potty. Once there, one recuperates, cursing the lack of tp and continues afterwards with the…

Training that becomes…

Humbling, when a cocky self assured self decides to run a ½ marathon without the training and ends up puking on the side of the running path. Once there, one recuperates cursing at not having the time to train and continues afterwards with the…

Training that inspires…

Aspirations which turn into goals and thus become accomplishments. Once there, one recuperates, cursing at not recognizing what the hard work was for and duh, reveling in the feely, good thingys not only felt but held close to the heart.IMG_2503

Well, those are my thoughts on running or random acts of self-gloating.

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