Monday, December 20, 2010

Angels and Miracles

Hello my dear friends, gentle readers, fellow RV-ers, dog lovers, cat lovers, Mermaid lovers and treasured Angels.  Thanks for stopping by. 

I just realized that I keep changing my blog banner, but if you get this by subscription or feed, you miss out on my changing picture banners.

Today I was thinking how truly lucky I am to be alive, almost well and very happy,  for the holiday season of 2010. Last Christmas, I was still terribly ill, on many prescriptions, grieving over my lost pets and wondering if each breath could be my last.

A dear old friend had me over to his house one evening when I was on my last hurrah. He made us dinner, had a roaring log in the fireplace, and his house was festively decorated for Christmas. He claimed it was for his children, which were on a temporary overnighter elsewhere. They would surely be suprised when they came home to find ornaments hanging in the potted plants, plus all manner of colorful lighting and candles. Musical boxes, old fashioned toys, snowmen, exsquiaite ornaments, garlands, and nativity scenes were thoughtfully placed around the entire home.

There were so many cords crammed everywhere, I asked him if his homeowners' insurance was up to date. I knew much of the adornment  was for him, that he had a blast emptying out his attic, decorating every room in his house with his own style of unique yuletide spirit, surprising his children, upon their return the next day.  Even the guest bathroom was festooned with holiday spirit.

I took out my camera and began photogrpahing odds and ends.  He wore a Santa's hat looking rather festive. At some point, he adorned my head with reindeer antlers.   Alas, the horrible side effects of one of the prescriptions often gave my hands a palsied tremor. Sadly, many of the pictures I took of his whimsical decor came out blurry. A few came out really nice. Some I incorporated into my holiday banner for this blog.  (I have duplicated a smaller version of  it at the bottom of this, for the email subscribers.)

As the evening wore on, in 2009, I tried not to think this might very well be my last Christmas.  Though it wasn't officially Christmas day, I was thrilled my friend had gone out of his way to make such a difficult time for me, so cheerful and jolly. We sloshed around with eggnog, he played piano, then I played piano. I had not tickled the keys in years, it being so hard to find real pianos in the Caribbean, where I had spent the past 22 years. 


2009 was my first Christmas in America since 1986.


My friend had some of my old music books. We found the Christmas songs. I sat down, and tentatively played a song. Then the next. I played for what seemed like hours, until every Christmas song was done. A few I played twice, as my fingers warmed up, I wanted to improve my style.

I wore a bright red sweater, I had picked up at a nearly new shop for cheap. He took pictures of me plus some of my long hair, while I was standing at the fireplace, poking away at the logs. When I saw the pictures, later, I was so startled at how distored my face was, swollen up round, like a water balloon about to burst. Just another evil side-effect of one of the many drugs the doctors thought I needed for the rest of my life.  


Just getting up to walk around was so exhausting, I wondered if I looked at the floor, would I be  wading around in molasses? A few times I became ill at my friend's house, having to rest and meditate while choppy waves stormed around my reality.   My friend pretended not to notice, keeping up a steady stream of banter.  


Now twelve months later, lucky me, here it is 2010 and by golly, I've made it to another Christmas season!  
I have more stamina, my face is regaining a normal shape, the trembling hands are gone. Against medical advice, I chose a different course for my healing. 



Eventually, I gave up on the doctors and drugs. I could no longer afford their care nor cost. I just wanted to be comfortable and happy. I was convinced the numerous so-called side-effects of the various chemicals filling my body were possibly creating even more medical problems, than they were supposedly curing. 



Throughout that magical evening, in 2009, my friend remained upbeat, positive  and at times quite humorous. We laughed and cut up like children ourselves. It was such a peaceful lovely time for me. For a glorious evening,  everything was wonderful.  I pretended I was in perfect health, while I secretly prayed for  angels, miracles and Santa Claus. 

Five months later, I adopted little Wolfman Harley, a ragamuffin poohuahua who was severely malnourished and had the energy of a sleepy turtle. We had a few things in common all ready. When I asked if they knew how old he was, they said, yes,  he was born Christmas Day 2009.  

It seems to me, I got my angels, miracles, God and even Santa Claus was listening last year. The Christmas puppy eventually found his way, in to my life.


Angels surfaced in my darkest hours. It's a miracle, we are both alive and looking forward to enjoying Christmas 2010. 


I am one lucky Mermaid.   


I have God, angels, miracles, and Santa Claus, sent me  a puppy too. 






A Big Thank You To The Angels
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