
…thank you for visiting my blog… until next time 🙂
When I crossed our main street to get to the sidewalk, Thomas, my beagle, pulled me to the left, a path we rarely take, as I, automatically, turned to the right, a path we usually take. Â I decided to follow his lead. Â He seemed happy. Â His tail wagging, he took his time walking.
Nice cool breeze on a warm wintry day kept embracing us. And, the mostly cloudy day felt more like spring, not winter.  I felt my mind happily hopping.  I heard a complex symphony of sounds in the background – The chirping of the birds flying over us; the humming of the cars whizzing by us; the soft bark of a dog coming from nearby distance; the rustling of  leaves on trees around us.
As Thomas and I sauntered, I couldn’t help but chuckle remembering an encounter with an acquaintance – I had asked her about why she preferred walking alone. Â She had blatantly answered, “Sweetie, because I can fart freely!”
I, too, realize walking by myself is immensely satisfying!  An accurate definition of myself would be  – me and my dog!  These walks are exclusive –  My conversations with myself remain private; my quiet times remain absolutely and phenomenally soothing; my silly but unavoidable burps, spits, and farts become one with the nature :).  Thomas and I walk completely immersed in our own worlds.  I walk leisurely at my own pace.  Actually, leisurely at Thomas’ pace :).  But, both walking, joyfully.
…thank you for visiting my blog…until next time 🙂
Oops!
<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/oops/”>Oops!</a>
About 6 years ago, on a crisp, clear, starry night I walked from my house to my neighbor’s house.  I could see my neighbor, Jim, busy setting up his professional telescope.
A few kids and adults from the neighborhood had gathered on his driveway; ready to view the moon. Â I Â had found myself looking up; it looked so bright when it really was so dark.
I was excitedly waiting my turn standing behind the kids. Â I finally got my turn! Â I saw the craters in the moon… I can never forget the glimpse I got of this faraway beauty.
Jim proudly spoke to us about the stars, moon and the planets. Â His love for the outer space showed!
Then an amazing thing happened! Â We got to see Saturn! Â With its rings! Â They were fuzzy rings. Nonetheless, they were THE RINGS! Â Fuzzy yes! But not fuzzy in my memory!
Today, I came to know that Jim passed away last night. Â He had been fighting cancer for the past three years. Â He seemed well, and we did not expect this. Â But, last night, he was taken to the ER, where he took his last breath, and transitioned to another life.
As I was pondering about him, I realized that last night, too, was a crisp and clear night. Â And, the skies were filled with stars. Â Jim was not able to set up his telescope, but I bet he was looking through the grandest of telescopes. Â And, he decided to take a leap into the unknown – What we know as death. Â The body is left behind, but the soul travels on.
Jim, all the best to you in your life-after-life. Â The experience on this Earth was in preparation for something beyond our imagination. Â I bet you can see planets, moons, galaxies, & universes up close now…
Every time I’ll see a starry night with a glowing moon…I’ll thank you for the night out with the telescope!
…thank you for visiting my blog…until next time 🙂
“I’m so happy you are here,” I say to my Dad, gently kissing him on his cheek.  “I am too.  I am, too,” he replies reaching for his grand-kids.  My daughter hugs him tightly. She is 2 1/2-years-old; and my son, 9-months-old.  This is a penultimate to ‎ Honorific article which I wrote in July 2014.  He made many trips to see us, but this was a trip my dad made 16 years ago.  My kids are now, teenagers.
My daughter is standing up on an adjacent chair where my dad is sitting; her tiny body resting on my dad’s right shoulder. My dad is eating his breakfast.  She’s watching him intently; now poking his cheeks, touching his head; then pulling his scarce hair; and finally, wanting to play with his food.  She is trying to take his toast out of his hands.  He let’s her take it. She dunks it in his tea!  I react,  “No, No, No!”  My dad quickly comes to her defense, “Let her.”  I step aside.  I help my son eat his breakfast.
In focus, is my peripheral vision: The toast, all of it now, is drowned in his tea-cup. Â She is attempting to scoop it out with a spoon, only to splatter the content all over the table. Â I remain quiet. Â She puts the spoon down, but does not give up! Â She puts her fingers in the cup, and takes a bit of soggy toast out in her pincer grasp. Â A success! Â She feeds that to my dad. Â YUCK! Â He, lovingly, eats it. Â Patience and love, that was my dad. Â Once she was done, my dad gladly cleaned the mess.
Another beautiful sunny, warm, and breezy day.  I look out the dining room window into our backyard and see my dad watching my daughter play in her sand pit.  I’m so happy he is here!  I notice him adjusting his thick eye-glasses, a few times.  The breeze must be bothering his eyes.
It’s already evening, I’m making my way to the kitchen to fix dinner. Â I see my dad standing still in the hallway. Â I ask, “Is everything okay, dad?” Â He calmly says, “my vision seems blurry.” Â I’m nervous now; he then says his vision is good. Â I go on to make dinner. Â During dinner, we talk about the house-painters, who were coming to paint our house.
The house gets painted in two days. Â My dad seems happy with the paint job, “looks bright and beautiful,” he says. Â It’s also time for my dad to return home, in upstate NY. Â I live in the south. Â “Get your eyes checked, ASAP,” I remind him as we drive to the airport. Â He leaves. Â Tears roll down my eyes.
Life, after his visit, went on as usual for a few months. Â My dad’s eye-check-up went well. Â However, at his next eye-check-up, six months later, the doctor said he had to have an eye surgery. Â The ophthalmologist operated on both his eyes to save his vision. Â But, his vision did not return.
Life, for him, was in a dark place. Â He managed traveling with help, and came to “see” his grand kids. Â He kept his spirits up. Â He laughed and told us jokes while we sat together at the dinner table. Â I would let him know placement of food on his dinner plate – 12 o’clock was broccoli, 3 o’clock was bread, 6 o’clock chicken, and 9 o’clock potatoes, and so on.
Nine years had passed…  “I’m a busy man, you know.  My time flies, too.  I THINK – all day long!” My dad would say to us, smiling, when he felt that we were feeling bad for him.  My kids had grown older and taller;  my dad, older and weaker.  He continued living his life in peace, grace, and gratitude; and in deep darkness.  A positive man in his core; my dad lived with great strength.Â
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Companionable.”
…thanks for visiting my blog…until next time:)
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