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Showing posts from June, 2010

The Genie took a survey...

One day, a certain Genie had a little time on his hands and decided to take a survey to see if people knew the meaning of 'rich'. He asked three people the same question: Do you want to be 'rich'? Answer #1 "No, I don't want to be rich, I just want to have enough MONEY to...and proceeded to tell what he would do with the money. Poof. He became a successful unrich person. Answer #2 "Yes, I'm going to work my patootie off, work my way up and then I'll have enough MONEY to do whatever I want to. Poof. He became a successfully hard working individual. Answer #3 "No, 'rich' has nothing to do with Money, it has to do with gratitude. Poof He got an overflowing cup of wealth and became a philanthropist. Moral of the Story: Think before you 'wish'...'somebody' may be listening.

What's a...serious side?

Once in awhile, I stop trying to develop my own 'character' (which is like trying to stop a flood with my bare hands), and work on developing 'fictional characters'. So I go to the my Mind Gym for a workout...it's fun there and a great way to exercise. Mental gymnastics? Dumbells included? Gosh, I'd be right at home. Anyhoo, I took a writing class awhile back (I can see 'disbelief' written all over your face), and worked with fantasy characters like: Mortimer P Snodgrass, the fly on the wall, etc. I won't elaborate 'cause Sylvia says once in awhile I can be a little 'over the top'. One day, I was sitting thinking (which I find is relaxing) and the idea struck me...."Why don't you try writing something 'different, dummy." Trust me...my imagination and me had a 'discussion' about that one later. I don't like being struck. I wrote this. Why am I posting it? Dunno. Why not? It goes like this... Lost

What's in a name...?????

Once upon a time, a few years ago, an 'older' man name John was playing with his keyboard. He used to ask it questions and it would give him some unusual answers...sometimes. Anyhoo. One day, he decided to ask it a 'burning question' (he ususually has a bookoo bunch of them) so his fingers got busy and thus began the 'dialogue with the keyboard'. John: Hey you up there, 'ya got a name? I can't keep referring to you as Hey You Up There...it doesn't work for me. Keyboard: Yep. John: OK. Now don't be funny. I asked a simple question and expect a simple answer and Yep isn't the one I was looking for. Keyboard: OK back. What name just crossed your mind? Now John thought and no name in particular came up...until...Sarah? He, at that point didn't know any Sarah's...except the one in the Bible. Then his mind flew back to an incident at a department store a week earlier. Sylvia had given him a 'mission'. Buy a dozen cloth

Sylvia Romanelli Crocker...the 'foundation'

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Once upon a time...1980 to be exact, John and Sylvia met. And it all began with the words "Que sera sera" (which is Italian for 'whatever will be...will be). But that's another story... 'Sylvia story' that she laughed about...later. Much later...because at the time she didn't think it was very funny. Anyhow, because of those words, in the space of 3 months, a miracle happened! Two people who by an 'opinion poll' might be voted "The Least Likely To Get Hooked Up" met, became 'best friends', courted, fell in love...and got married. And to make the story more 'unlikely'...10 months later that got married AGAIN! This time in Church. Sylvia and John 'on the surface' didn't appear to have 'that' much in common...other than they both loved to laugh and both loved to dance. In fact the song that played when Syl walked down the aisle in church was...you guessed it! "Can I Have This Dance For The Rest Of

My way of 'grief management'...

If anyone wonders why I keep talking about my 'deceased' wife the way I do...then it's the way I handle my 'loss' and it makes ME feel better. I reach for every thought that makes it possible. Syl used to say that 'you have to cry it out'. Well...I do that too. Sometimes I'm like a blubbering idiot when I think of not being able to 'hold' her in my arms and comfort her, to 'see' her smile, to 'hear' her laugh. That's when she comforts me and tells me that she's alright. LOVE is not about 'the physical'. It makes me FEEL better to celebrate her life rather than mourn her death. It turns each day into something special. Good mourning? I don't think that 'animal' exists. But a good morning/mourning is the way I begin each day. I don't know when the tears will come...but I reach for the 'thought' that FEELS better. I talk about all the things I've learned from her, about the people that are