When is enough enough?

when sadness is all one feels

when death surrounds us

when confined small spaces either mentally or physically cause one to hold their breath

when another way fails to present itself

when the prescribed medication turns into an addiction and you choose to continue to struggle for your memory each day and live, rather than be held hostage to the drug that’s coursing through your veins and wants you to take your life

when the scale has jumped ten pounds and clothing is too tight

when there’s no bread on the bread aisle even though you may not eat it, it makes you cry for those who do

when the rain falls from the sky full of acid and destroys the evergreens

when officials believe the Black lives don’t matter

when others are starving and we have plenty to share even if the bread shelves are empty

when the innocent are incarcerated without evidence or killed because of the color of one’s skin

What then?

heart cries out HELP to the one who resides within – and soon the cry becomes a prayer

and one day the prayer is answered by the one within with a question: What took you so long?

relaxed and assured – I know now – Enough is Enough

© Anita Adams

Week 1 – Wake up Call

Love and life in the time of Cornona

When days and nights come to a halt

Shelves at the Grocery Stores are half empty

Restaurants are Closed

Restrictions on how close we can be to one another – 6 feet apart

An Invisible Virus kills thousands within months

Schools and Jobs are closed

Underneath this though is the Robin outside my office window looking for nest building material and eating his morning worms

Flowers bloom on the Cherry Tree

And Daffodils and Forsythia burst into a variety of shades of Gold, Yellow and Orange

Goldfish swim happily in the pond and the Frogs return

The grass is green and covered with dew

The sky looks bluer and the clouds are ever changing

Peace be still reads a sign I’ve noticed often outside of a small church on my way to work

When the very, very small things become noticeable – even the ant walking across the pavement makes me smile and remember being a child in awe and wonder

Playing scrabble with my husband and night becomes a time of anticipated joy

Knowing that my children are safe and checking on neighbors and friends from all over the world there is time for.

Love is returning. The earth is breathing again.

As week 1 passes, faith and prayer grow stronger along with gratitude and a deeper sense of global community. – We are all One!

~ Anita Adams 3/21/20

Today I am….

tears

full of emotions

radiating love

a joyful child

sadness lives deep within this wounded body

patient with those around me

impatient with political climate and a mind healing too slow

prayerful of all on my prayer list and beyond

grateful for my home, husband, mountains, trees, children and grandson, friends and confidants

artistic on paper with paint and glue stick

joyous with anticipation of songs to be sung and songs to be heard

hesitant with BIG decisions

longing for more travel, creative flow, words of wisdom

blood, veins and bones

a body with Heart and Soul

© Anita Adams 2/2020

 

Have you ever…

… picked up a phone and wanted to call God?

God answers in varying ways. Not always in direct sentences, mostly, in quiet, subtle ways.

Looking back over my 50+ years, I know I’ve been protected from much harm – it’s a miracle that I am still here.

That’s God answering my prayers for guidance, healing and protection.

God whispers just believe!

That’s all that’s required from me.

Once again, I let go and breathe a sigh, and remind myself that my time is not over yet . . . just believe.

© Anita Adams 1/2020

 

Faith, breath, God - Trusting the unknown and unseen - the Invisible.

At Last

The prompt was to re-write an obituary

Ethel Marie Shamoon Henry, married and Catholic, daughter of two and Situ to one, died age 89 of complications while agonizing over the last pages of her memoir. She couldn’t remember the details upon which she left her home at age 16, mentally or 17, physically? She never understood her life not turning out the way she dreamed – college educated, managing her own business, traveling the globe. Ethel was tired.

She was tired of this story. Tired of her life without the education she longed for and the places she wanted to live and traveled after she’d raised her own children, she was just tired!

Her REAL exhaustion came when she decided to prepare her own obituary and thought to herself – dang woman – haven’t you had enough? When will you begin living the life you wanted? Dreamed of? Longed for? Or, have you been all along, but just hadn’t noticed it in full? Give it up! Turn it over! Live this day the way you want – with whom you want – say what you mean – but, DON’T say it mean! Life is short! Remember, your last sunset. Your last words to those closest to you. The last color you saw. The last bird you heard. The last smile you smiled, The last laugh you laughed. The last prayer you uttered. Remember, smile, laugh and move on.

Move on to TODAY! Are you ready? She opened her eyes while lying peacefully in a down covered hammock next to her pond and waterfall oasis, gazed up at the clouds and said – Yes! It’s been a good life! A Full life! I have loved. I have been loved. I’ve colored, created art and captured. I’ve said what I wanted to say, traveled much, walked and hiked often. And I married a man who loved me until my dying breath. I’m ready.

Just then, her eyes closed again, and this time, she had a soft, childlike smile upon her face, the sun was setting in the west with a rainbow of colors like the one she’d seen so many years ago upon Max Patch. As she exhaled her last breath. Finally, Ethel was at peace and rest. – Amen.

Services will be held in the local Catholic Church with On Eagle’s Wings playing as she is escorted to the grave site of her beloved sister, Roxane. All are welcomed to visit now and again. Bring your favorite heart rock and share one with another. Dark chocolate and coffee to be served.

Anita Adams 4/15/19

Last word. Last thought. Obituary. Humor.

Where was love when the light went out?

Where does love go when the light goes out? A question he asked once as a young man in his 60’s . He doesn’t remember asking these days. However, the question is a good one and has remained with me. How to answer this? Love is always present within every human being I believe. For some, a place in the dark could also represent a place of silence, loneliness, or the sound of mental chatter grinding away while one wishes for a lover’s embrace.

As a child, I recall needing two doors left wide open, and a nightlight on at all times in order to feel safe enough to close my eyes and attempt to go to sleep. Where was love in this dark twin bed on the third floor of Macon Avenue?

Why was light the only key to my safety?

Where was love when this light went out?

~ Anita Adams 2/4/2019

Lullaby of Spring to Summer

Lullabys are lazy and fluid – like a warm summer breeze or a slow moving river

  • – a summer breeze that ever so lightly ruffles the thin window sheers,
  • – or a slow moving river that barely carries the thick blanket of pollen to the ocean like a giant barge moving train cars through a canal in winter, not as fast as an inch worm.

Lullabys, like this summer breeze, sometimes brings with it a fragrant smell of honeysuckle followed by a hint of clover and wild roses. A smell that’s so intoxicating and memorable. That smell alone, whispers a lullaby that spring has become summer.

_   _   _   _   _   _   _   _   _   _   _   _   _   _   _   _   _   _   _    _   _   _  _

Remember the familiar lullaby that begins:

hush little baby, don’t you cry now sings….

honeysuckle and clover will soon visit to soothe your tired eyes

the sun shines through the sheers letting you know – you are not alone

hush little  baby, don’t you cry beckons…

the doves play outside your window, playing leap frog or piggy back over pillows

hush little baby, don’t you cry…

the river’s singing a whisper to sleep soundly, all is well, make a wish upon the fireflies and soon the night sky will light up like the 4th of July.

hush little baby, don’t you cry … close your eyes … wish upon a star … dry your tears — smell the the sky… and dream of fireflies on the 4th of July.

© Anita Adams 5/14/2018