more to come ... summer time lol

hello friends,
more is coming i promise, just enjoying summer with my girls lol. Life is good.
Larry

Power and Right to be Me

The Power of and the Right to be: ME

      There is something about sobriety that I have noticed is seldom talked about. When I got sober, through the Grace of God's help, I was pretty low down and had a low value of myself as a person, let alone a human being. The farther along in the steps I went, things started to change. The power contained in the steps is to get me in touch with a power greater than myself that can do for me what I cannot do. In my case stay sober. As I went along I started to realize that I was becoming me. The me that I had in mind for myself as I grew up. Not the me others wanted me to be, or the me that changed like the seasons to make you happy. Just me, one hundred percent, undiluted, standing on my own two feet, looking the world in the eyes, happy with who I am and who I am becoming, me.

      I like to compare things. I like to give examples so as to form a mental picture. It makes it easier for me to grasp concepts and situations. I compare myself to an oak tree. My roots, thanks to God's help, firmly planted in the soil reaching down deep, securing my being and my belief against the winds of Life that try to uproot me or topple me over. Growing tall and strong in the belief of my God's love for all his children, my branches outstretched to provide shelter, comfort and protection to my loved ones and those needing help. I do not care nor compare myself to others, any more that an oak tree compares itself to or cares what the pine and poplar think or are. Like apples to oranges, comparisons are usually silly and of no value. Each is to their own, compete and whole, and have no need to be anything else.

      It seems there are a lot of labels in the world. Liberal, conservative, democrat, republican, independent, black, white, asian, native american, mixed race, pro-life, pro-gun, catholic, lutheran, jewish, hindu, the list goes on endlessly I think. Life trying to use words, to describe someone, instead of letting there actions tell you who they are. Each person has the right, I believe, to be themselves, not type cast or stereotyped or forced to be the square peg in the round hole of a label. Just as I have the right to be me, I have to give them the freedom to be themselves, not to label them like a can of corn, expecting to conform to the limits of the can. That is one of the freedoms and strengths I have received for being sober and in searching for the God of my own understanding.

      I was given a brain so I could use it. I think the God of my understanding wants me to use it. I like to think I am a reasonably intelligent, mature man. I say reasonably because there are times when I like being childlike, and I still love a good cartoon, and the feel of riding my bike and stopping for ice cream like I was a kid. I have the ability to take information and to form and intelligent opinion or belief based on that information. I do not need someone else to form it for me and tell me what to believe. I am a free man, given the gifts that God gives all His children. I have no use for a government or group or person to tell me what is right or wrong, good or bad, rational or irrational. Let me form my own opinion just give me the information at hand.

Thursdays with a horse, Looking at Heaven

Thursdays with a horse.

Looking at Heaven

      Many times in life, I have marveled at the blessings I have been given. I write and talk a lot about perception and how sobriety has brought a change in my perception. The appreciation of what I have versus what I want. It seems as I get older, I am coming to realize that what I want, I already have. The important things like God, Family, and Love, not the transitory things like money, possessions, and such.

      I was over to visit my daughters yesterday, and as seems to be the case, whenever I am not looking, it hits me. I am a very lucky man. My girls were in the living room, the oldest on her laptop and the youngest laying on the couch. Both back from a day at school, relaxing, comfortable, safe and at peace. What more could I ever ask for?

      I look and I watch and am just amazed. How did this happen where I have two such wonderful girls? When I look at my girls, I see them as they are today, teenagers growing into fine young women. But I also see them as they were, remembering when they were in diapers, walking with them to their first day of school, and driving them to belly dancing class. I remember, in Colorado, taking Tabea to the circus, and picking Meyra up from her daycare. Special daughter, poppa times.

      Whenever I wonder what heaven must be like, I remember the feeling of holding them in my arms when they were babies and watching them sleep. That feeling of love, warmth and all is right in my world. I remember the feeling I felt, that fatherly pride, as Tabea, my eldest, walked into her prom. She was no longer Poppa's little girl, although in my heart she will always be, she is a young woman. During the course of evening, there was the traditional father and daughter dance. That was a bitter sweet moment, almost a precursor to the father giving the daughter away at her wedding. I know that time will come, this was the just warm up, a glimpse into the future. I am pretty sure that I will be just as proud then and just as heart broken.

      Every Thursday I get the opportunity to visit a little slice of heaven. I get to take my youngest daughter horseback riding. Seeing her smile as she gallops on her horse is almost a direct link between my heart and heaven. I may be a sentimental old fool, but seeing someone I love, enjoying what they are doing, oblivious to the world around them, care free for that instant in time, is just that, sentimental and precious. A respite in time, a glimpse into what I feel is God's love for all his children.

      Big beautiful horses and God's kids playing under the sun, enjoying the, and living in, the moment. When I wish I could freeze time this is what I mean. But this is what memories are for. God's little Polaroid moment forever lock in my memory of how good life can be and what heaven must surely be like.

just a friendly reminder if you like this

Hello friends, just a friendly reminder if you like this blog, you should like my first book, "The Dirt Road on Which I Walk"  available in eBook format just about any where and available on Amazon.com for download, or kindle, or softback.  also, like i said previously 2nd book coming out end of July - mid August.. In all things with Love and Laughter, God Bless Larry

lot more coming

well fiends, seems that my writers block has broken, and the literary juices are flowing so more to come and on a more regular basis.  second book should be out in end july- mid august time frame.. thanks in all things with Love and Laughter , God Bless Larry.

Of Death, Farewells and Goodbyes

Death, Farewells, Goodbyes

      Love is a quirky thing. One of my definitions being: missing their physical presence in my life. So if I miss someone then chance’s are that I love them. This is especially true when someone passes away. It is easy to forget how much I love someone when they just down the street or a phone call away. To make excuses as to being to busy or rushed today to take the time right now for them, is not uncommon for me, but I realized when people I loved had passed away how much I would give just to have one more chance to chat and have coffee.

     When my Dad moved on, it was quick. I was a drill sergeant at the time when I got word of his passing. The army and my command were very good at getting me the time to go home and do the necessary things, but the one big loss I had felt at the time and still do, is just the having of a little one on one time to have a cup of coffee with him, and get caught up on life. No major questions needing answered or help needed, just miss him is all and probably more than enough.

     After my brother Bob passed away, it was a feeling of what a waste. I felt here was a guy, my brother, who I just wish I could have shook some sense into. A man who had so much love in his life, but was so deep in the pit that his drinking had dug that he was blind to the path where the sun waited to warm his soul. Being sober myself, I knew the solution, but could not get my brother to see. I know what it is like to not be able to see until I am ready to see. I also know that sobriety is something you have to want. I have met many who need it, but it is those that want it, that have a chance. I just sometimes forget that when I am dealing with someone I love. I would like to make it easier for them but I know that does not work.

      With my brother Dennis's passing, I felt like I was at the funeral of a man I never really knew. He had been out of my and my families life for close to if not more than twenty years. So in reality I really did not know him, and that to me was a shame. When I was helping to clear out his stuff from the house, I was coming across items that I would like to have talked to my brother about. I can remember talking with him and it seemed every thing was just surface conversation and not anything of depth. I know he must have had some issues in his life and I would have liked to talk to him about those. I can honestly say I was never able to really figure out what made him tick and that was my loss. It is sad to have a brother I did not know well. 

much more to follow.....  

Conversations Over Cofee. book 3, Cover and beginning.

 

 

DEDICATION

To my family, friends, little sisters, and those I have had the pleasure of having a cup of coffee with and babbling on about Life. It is a wonderful thing be it black or with sugar, cream or in any combination, just as Life is a wonderful journey.

Forward

This is a work of fiction, names and all that are not real, just made up in my silly little brain.

 

1 Tree of love

      The evening spring rain having stopped as the sun was setting. We, my friends and I sat around the coffee shop finishing our cake and drinking our coffee. I was enjoying the conversation, a myriad of ever changing topics. It was as diverse as the company of friends I sat with. A retired couple, enjoying watching their grandchildren, a young couple in their, must be, early 30's, a single mom and a man around 20 maybe 21. Yes, tonight had a diverse group chatting away and I was enjoying all the different points of view.

      The elderly lady, seeing me observing but not participating, brought me back to the table when she asked me, “So, Jack, what is love?” My answer was simple, “Love is a tree” I said. She looked at me slightly perplexed , and said “well go on, this should be good” she chuckled, thinking I was in the process of making a joke. Not knowing me too well, she did not yet understand, asking me to expand on a topic can be a long time consuming thing. So, I took a sip of coffee, lit a cigarette and started.

      “Love is a tree,” I said. Our own personal tree, which we tend and prune. When we are born, I believe, the little seedling, of love in us, takes root. At it's core is the love of the Father, from whom all love springs from. Since we are too young to nurture it or water it, our parents do that for us. Giving us their love, from their own trees , to nurture our trees to grow. As we grow, so does the roots of our tree dig deep and firmly into the soil of our being, our soul, becoming as firm and hearty as the oak or redwood. For it is trying to grow as our maker would has us be, tall and lush, basking in the light He provides.

      Now a tree has branches that stem from the main trunk. At the center of the trunk is our love of our Father. As a tree's age is told by its rings, so the first ring would be the love of our parents. 

LOL  Just the beginning I hope...