Suzanne Somers, Wizards, and Birthdays

I don't know if the line you are much more of an idiot this year than last year will change what I decide or that I have forgotten how to mentally do math in my head or to spell or to answer all the entertainment trivia I could spew out at a moment's notice. Have I researched it all to find that it comes back to something more scary, more sinister, more lethal. I have not been able to broach that subject yet, too tired, too weary,but perhaps I should before my options close. Alzheimer's, dementia, horrible, horrible names for diseases that take away all that makes you a person of some worth to the world, to your family.
Tomorrow is my birthday, a good day for resolutions. I am tired of this sniveling, complaining, egocentric contemplations of maladies, real or imaginary, done, done, done.
It will be a year soon that I have begun my mediocre odyssey of medications, specialists, wizardry, tests, more medications, to find myself. The scarecrow a chemically numb, definitely dumb, fifty-three year old, who has lost her heart, her brain, her home...

The Undertoad

I almost dare not write about it, but I feel it. It follows me stepping on the heels of my shoes as I walk on the wet leaves. I smell it's moldy breath moving my hair off my neck and making the flesh rise in goose bumps on my arms. I hear it's mocking laugh each time the phone rings. It is a battle we have. Each day, I to see the light and run faster than the Undertoad. Each day to listen to the music of a thousand different sounds to drown out the screaming of the Undertoad.
I fear this is a mistake, to be naked without a prescription bottle near. I will stand strong with my shield of motherhood impaled on my chest.

Walking Singing Smiling in the Rain

There is no time machine, to go back,to fix, to change, to give us one more chance to redeem ourselves, to apologize, to say thank you, to help someone we knew we should have, to close our mouth quicker, before that last bitter word fell, to hug tightly, to breathe in the smell of those we've lost for far too long.

So we must for now hug, those we have here tightly and loosely in the same grasp. Trap those cruel words in cages behind our tongues. Say thank you in each word we utter, each look we give, each wave of kindness. Let the sorrow fall away from us before we talk to those here with us. We must not become so firmly trapped in the debts of others that they consume our own dreams. Remember having a dream. It is so brief a time on this sweet earth.