An Understanding.....Happy Mothers' Day

Many of us lament a childhood which was less than we feel it should have been, less than we know we deserved as those young people trying to figure it all out. It is a fact that each of us had a different experience with our parents back then when we looked up at them in awe, for strength, for security and for that unconditional love. My own experience is certainly not what I'd like to share here today, it was less than I deserved, lacking in many ways, it is what helped form the woman I am today.

I have just spoken with my mother. For me, speaking with either parent is a chore. It's true. I admit it. And, this is true for various reasons with each of them. My mother is a kind soul who has been afflicted with an anxiety for life as long as I've known her, and considerably before I was in the picture, as she has shared. We are not alike, we don't have the same values or opinions or thoughts; there has been anger between us and a lack of consideration and that unconditional love. Over the past few years, and as a result of both a physical and emotional distance between us, my mom has shared her own experiences of lack and discomfort and "feeling like a piece of shit" as she wandered her way through childhood. She has shared a story of her dad, a silent, ungiving man who could think of nothing to say to his daughter as he walked with her to a job he found for her. Not one word. Sixty years or more after these incidents, she recalls vividly a transference of his silence into lack within her, judged by her father to be less than because he could not find, did not have any words of conversation, camaraderie for her. She has shared stories of a family who was disjointed, walking on opposite sides of the street from each other for reasons no one knew. This, the result of a crazy woman my mother's brother married at a young age who was allowed to wreak havoc on his family for years and until she died. My mother, at one point in her young life, lived with her aunt and uncle for a time while she recuperated from what I would consider to be a nervous breakdown. She was completely intimidated by the man she married, and lived too many years in distrust and lack of individuality.

It was important for my mother to bring me into these parts of her life. It was important to her that I understand she has remorse that she did not, could not rise to her children's deepest needs, while she continued to push through a life of fear and discomfort and not knowing. And as a result of both parents being human and dealing with life in the best way they knew, they raised two daughters with self-esteem issues and fears, to struggle in adulthood for that "perfect" place as they see it for themselves.

A while ago, a short while ago actually, I came to an important realization; one which allowed me to move out of that fog and to step higher within my own life. I realized that both of these people did the best they could. As cliche as that statement is, and I shudder to use it, it is truth. While they maintained a life of basic comfort for us, each of them, being human, had their own issues, fears, goals, good and bad days. As my mother spoke, I understood she is not an evil person, I know she is a lovely person, actually, who did not wish anyone's pain, but was dealing with her own. Today, she is much the same as back then, with the exception of the sharing. With the exception of the realizing. What a wonderful breakthrough! The start of healing. While my mother and I might never be close in spirit, I can and do appreciate what she has brought to me within these conversations. I empathize with her struggles. I know now, without a doubt, it is and never was, about me or my sister.

I am guilty of less than stellar choices with my own son. No one is immune. No one is perfect. Many of us have thought about the past and wonder what life would be if only we'd done......something else. And the best we can do for ourselves and for those we love is to put those thoughts away. The best we can do is work to find what we need, what we love, and pursue those things with diligence and vigor and passion. As we become those people who are happy in our individual lives, we radiate that happiness and joy outward into the universe, for all to take part. We smile more often, we have an aura of love we share easily.

So to that I say, Happy Mothers' Day to the beautiful women everywhere who have struggled, who have raised children less than perfectly, and who rise above all of that a little every day to become who they want to be.        Cheers to us all.        And Love.

Remembering the Day

Today is December 15, 2010 at 734A, and today is my birthday. I am one of those people who feel birthdays should be "special", celebrated with abandon, family and friends participating, and OK, yes, maybe a few gifts. Today is a special one for me, because during the year just passed, I have enjoyed growth and peace of mind unprecedented in my life. I celebrate that reality. And today, I will not go into work, choosing instead to be leisurely on this cold, wintery day.

As I thought about this day, December 15, it occurred to me that each of us has a special day we call our birthday; that day which will forever be "ours" in that sense. The day we, hopefully, look forward to with plans made, and, similar to the new year, maybe make resolutions for the year to come. I also realized that certain days take us, in memory, to people who were special to us. I thought of my grandparents and the fact that I don't remember when their birthdays were, except I believe my maternal grandmother might have been October 19, my paternal grandfather was close to that date. I have no recollection of my paternal grandmother's birthday. My maternal grandfather died when I was very young, and I never knew when his was at all. These people have been gone from this life for many years, and it is possible I simply forgot after all this time, but it seems to me I would remember if I had helped them to celebrate their special days. I thought of my son, who will always recall December 15 as his mom's birthday, with, I hope, thoughts of times we've enjoyed together in a warm and happy way. Of course, we don't need a date to remember special people, but those days can trigger memories of times of togetherness, of laughter and smiles and eating all the wrong food. Celebrations of life.

Today, I will definitely celebrate December 15, 2010 as a great day for me, for what life is at this moment and for what it will be each moment I have to live it. I have learned it is vitally important to cherish each day because with each day comes another chance to be better, to live fully and well, to be kind, to recognize I am a part of nature, of the universe, as we all are. And along the way, I will encounter others on their paths, and hopefully, in a few very special instances, friendships will be formed. I cherish December 15, because it is MY special day, and it is MY reminder of a life lived well and looking forward to more.

In Between 5 and 30, You Take What You Can Get

I watch him leave again; He is tall, slender, never lingering to chat or to share.

An hour for lunch, No, nothing is new, Maybe dinner sometime?

I cherish him now as I cherish that child, who, in my presence, took first steps, went to first grade, learned to swim, batted that ball outta the park.

I tell him, often, he is loved, and He returns the favor.

And, now, as I watch the car move away from me, the one taking my son, there is a sense of loss - just a twinge.

The child, whose world I was once prominent in, is off to his own world now, as I fall into the distance

September 11, 2001

It was like being at a wake where everyone tries to move around with normalcy when none exists.

The reality permeated the cells of our existence; how could the navigator of that plane not see that large, tall building?

Then it happened again, and another went down in Pennsylvania, and I couldn't help but worry where and when the next horror would be.

The day continued with a dull silence and emptiness that could not be erased.

A few days later, I went to a local fair and came upon a beautiful quilt made by a woman who was on the flight to California for a vacation.

She dropped off her beautiful artwork first, for all to enjoy.

In Between the Shower and the Window

Caught..Dripping with remnants of the warm shower rain.

She remembers, just out of there, that she forgot what she needed - and it's over there, past that window of obviousness.

Creeping near, her eyes inspect; And there He is, standing, contemplating - what?

She has seen him there before, all sweated and dripping ~ like her ~ and turning with a fleeting nod.

He is pretty fine; and Maybe he might take a look now; Will he know she is there at the window with nothing but beaded drops covering nothing?

She hesitates, not wanting him to know that she feels transparent in her display; As she looks ahead and walks, slowly, past the window.

You Were My Guy...

Dad;
I suppose it is where I live now, emotionally and spiritually, that brings me back to you. This realization only occurred to me recently, and I find it freeing and truthful and so important - for me.
                                     You were my guy. 


You were more important to me than anyone, including, most likely, myself. You were strength, character, forthright. You were driven and successful in your career. I will never try to minimize your accomplishments, because you are self-made and, still, I appreciate and respect those qualities.


You were my guy. Do you know? Did it ever, even once, occur to you, the reality that I wanted, needed your acceptance; that my growth depended upon you to be my guide, my protector, the person who talked to me with interest and kindness? I cannot speak for you, all I have is my intuition and the conclusions I have reached over the years, for lack of knowing you in that way. And, unfortunately, forever in this life, I will not enjoy speaking with you or visiting with you or remembering my childhood with you. I will recall how inadequate I always felt while in your company, how embarrassed I was in so many situations with you as a child, the fact that I've loved you and hated you. Most of all, I will always wish we lived differently with each other. I wrote a blog inspired by words of Lynn Redgrave which were published after her death. It spoke of her own relationship with her dad. I entitled it, "I didn't really know him. I lived in his house..."; her words, which resonated with me immediately.


The purpose of this letter is to tell you how it is for me. In person, this conversation would be overtaken by your denial and insistence that everything was fine. It would be overtaken by your insistence that your own childhood was fine. That is your right, except those lies keep us in the dark for each other. And, I truly believe you are completely unaware that these are my feelings, or if you decided to, that you could have a real conversation of sharing and honesty. I don't believe you could do it, even if you gave it all you had.


So, Dad, I want you to know, You Were My Guy! What a difference you could have made for me in the most positive of ways, for my relationships with men and in how I have seen myself! You Were My Guy! And you failed me. I am so sorry, but you failed me! I love what you were for me in spirit, I hate what you were for me in life.


Today, I am very well, and I have worked hard to get here. Today, the physical and emotional distance between us works well for me. Today, I know you much better. To know you were my guy....brings loving feelings. I have the capacity to give love and hopefully, accept love - some day, in a true sense I haven't yet experienced. Not because you showed me how it could and should be. Not because I remember my father with love for the kindness and guidance given to me when I needed it most. Not because of you at all, except for the struggling to reach out of the hole. Except, yes, you can take credit for the hole and the struggle. Congratulations.


                                     Dad, You Were My Guy...
     Your Daughter, Bonnie

The Winter of Life

Winter..It's coming again.
And until I am living in a place much warmer than this, I'm sure I will dread that fact - less now, but still. So, why is it I simply don't get over it; this fact of winter cold? Not sure I have that complete answer, except it pisses me off to be cold. It is insulting and biting and hard. I'm pretty sure this hasn't been a life-long hatred, but rather a carefully cultivated one of years. And still, I cannot say why. Maybe because now, as the adult, I am tasked with all of the chore of it and no longer see the fun. But that still leaves the cold to the bone ache and resentment.

A couple who lives next door packed a very large u-haul with what appeared to be most of their possessions, including a golf cart, and headed away from here to a place or places I can only imagine. I dream they are going more southward, or maybe west, to chase warmer days and nights, to bask in their freedom and companionship; and I wish I were like them for that simple reason. Then, my mind comes around to "that" love - the one where two people love to share time and space and plans. Yes, I'd love to have that, and I believe I will.

I am living a life of astonishing emotional strength. I've acquired a depth I never dreamed possible. And it will continue. I already love the adventures to come, and welcome them with open arms. No one could be more grateful. And knowing I am responsible for all of it, spiritually, willfully, is immensely powerful and freeing.

Where Once There Was Sadness....

I am nearly fifty eight years old. How could THAT have happened?! I doubt I will ever again look into the mirror and see what I would truly like to see, except that sparkle, the one I've just found. It's there to stay.
There are many things I could say, or share, about aging. Some are quite obvious: the wrinkling laughter lines, the grey hair (under another color now), gravity kicking in all over the place, even that it is largely an attitude. Aging is for maturity and a wisdom of sorts. Who hasn't heard another say, "If I could only go back and know what I know today"? And, after about age 30, most understand the meaning of that statement.

For many years, I thought of the time with special friends I once knew, long away from me, as a loss. A loss, for the short time we had together; a loss because I never quite duplicated those special moments. Today, while I would likely still opt to have stayed around them longer if I could, I know those young friendships helped me understand closeness and its value. I struggled with many aspects of my life, because I didn't know my worth, or more accurately, felt I had little. I have been an under-achiever in every aspect of the word, because of fear; fear of not knowing, fear of being wrong or making mistakes, fear of being afraid. I have made decisions based on emotional neediness, and have given away friendships, in some cases, long-lasting friendships, in favor of a kind word or a vague interest in my direction. I would accept just about any behavior, at least for a time, if a boy or man was behind it. I have been judgmental, quick-tempered, angry, narrow-minded, and....sad.

Spirituality, my version of it, has recently become a part of my life. Not the bible answering, god will strike me dead kind. The kind that understands nature is god, or my preference of term, the universe. The kind that understands through intuition and living in gratitude, that the universal spirit is in all of us. IN us; not a separate something in the sky we call a "him" which no one truly understands, likely because it makes no sense. Spirituality which answers to a generous spirit, graciousness, giving thanks, and even an understanding that asking to be the best I can in this life is an important part of living it. It is an insult to the universe, to god, to be less than. Finding my spirituality was the beginning of life opening for me, and it happened through meditation, in an instant, when I pondered the question of what was missing; how could I move forward? Yes, in an instant! I continue to work on my best life every day. Not, however, without mistakes, not without anger, not without learning what being my best truly means. I now understand that challenges are the universe's way of helping us along the path of growth, and can even be thankful for those struggles.

I titled this blog, "Where Once There Was Sadness", because that is mostly where I've been, in a general sense. That is true, because I didn't know what I wanted or needed, I didn't know how to speak for myself in any meaningful way. That is true because I didn't know a childhood with love or inclusion. That road will take each of us in different directions, depending upon our realizing - or not; depending upon whether we want to take the time, make the effort to get from here to wherever "there" is for us. I am that person. How fortunate I am!

Today, realizations are key for me. They help guide me in a direction that feels so right for me now, it is almost like living another life. (Yes, there's a blog about that too). Law of attraction is alive and well and available for everyone to grasp. It expounds upon the value in each of us, shows there is more abundance in the universe, in every way, than we can possibly imagine, and we are all entitled to our share of that abundance. Believe it.

Interestingly, my mother has recently told me that she realizes I was not happy as a child, and she now hears a difference in my voice, in my hopes and intentions for my future; heck for my today! When others, who know us, can point out these truths, a pretty special revelation occurs; one that supports the universal abundance available to all of us. Because that's what I am doing. I have done nothing more than listen, accept what resonates for me, and live it. And it has made all the difference in this life. If you only knew...

Two Lives

I have lived two lives; two distinctly different and fulfilling long term engagements with myself. The first was over fifty years in length. Those years took me from birth to about two years ago when I moved to a new state, changing everything completely and utterly. Within those First Life years I did the obligatory school thing, moved three times during high school, married and divorced three times (hmm, just noticing the thing about threes), danced, sang, my sister became my friend. I found I love to distance walk, write, decorate, organize and other anal activities too numerous to mention here.

My first life was a good one. I will not complain about mistakes in judgment,  nor the road I shoulda taken. I was adequately housed, fed, and learned at an early age to be as self-sufficient as one can be at that point. Through those years, I was an average student, unsure of what I wanted, liked or loved, fearful to speak when I should have. I was totally lost within. I married young, lived a good life, divorced and started again. I earned enough money to support my young son and myself, to proudly watch him grow into the exceptional man he is today. I've purchased homes without the assistance of anyone on earth, I went to college in my forties, resulting in bachelors and masters degrees. I have loved, made great friendships, struggled with who or what I am, and where to be. I was fortunate to work in a large corporation for over twenty years, growing and learning there while living in a beautiful area of the country - if we don't consider the winter season. Suffice to say, too long, too much shoveling, scraping, and literally life-threatening road conditions, and if I never ever see another snowflake I will consider that a really good thing. Therefore, the move to another state.

Although I didn't appreciate it at the time, looking back now, I am of the belief that it was likely more a good than bad experience to have lived in different states along the way. I have been privileged to be exposed to different cultures, and learn that this is a huge world, full of opportunity and differences and wonderful open arms. I have learned that not every word or thought that pops into my brain needs to pop out of my mouth. I held anger within, although I didn't know I was angry~then. I learned to be tenacious, lacked patience-mostly with me, and longed to have peace of mind, to know why I felt the way I did, and sought various forms of assistance in getting there.

Enter Life Two:

EEEHHHAAA!!! This is very new, more profound than I can put into words, magical, miraculous and all the superlatives I can think of which are positive and glowing in nature. It was definitely not an overnight success; few truly exist. As my life continued in Life One, I knew I wanted and most assuredly needed to feel more at peace with me. I didn't exactly know how to get from A to B, although I consider myself extremely intuitive and able to dissect many issues and points. I recently read my journals dating back over twenty years where I lament basically the same issues within myself and my life that I continued to journalize recently. I could hardly believe it! But there it was in print. And it was time to get past it all and to really live. So, the move to the new state has been completely positive, although not without challenges. New state = new place to live, new job, new friends, maneuvering around to new places... Not as easy as it sounds, depending on ones dysfunction, attitude, and tenacity.

I looked for a job for about a year and a half before I found the perfect one. I bagged groceries for a week, cleaned the home of a large family for four weeks, tried to build businesses, applied for more jobs than I can remember. Regardless of my great experience, few opportunities for interviews came my way. All of that intertwined with getting to Bonnie. Getting to the soul, the spirit, the core of who that person truly is and can be for a most happy life. And, fortunately for me, I had time. Leaving my long term job allowed me to have financial stability for a while, so that I could think and read and discuss and reach out to find her; I knew she was there somewhere, I could feel her waiting for the reaching. I worked with a hugely talented life coach, after months of pondering whether that was what I truly wanted and needed. It was. Within that process, this wonderful woman asked the right questions, bringing out the answers I needed to hear. She guided me through points I could not quite unearth for myself, not for lack of trying. It was a completely and profoundly positive experience which was a major point in bringing me to this Life Two point.

For me, this has been pretty much a lifelong process. I have not always realized certain aspects, going along in my daily whatevers. Realizations are key for healing, acknowledging and moving on. I learned about Law of Attraction from a new friend, which I have welcomed into my life, let it settle in there, and I tap on it pretty much daily. It works. I figured, if I got nothing more than a positive outlook, that in itself was well worth it. I have received so much more. Believing, understanding that the universe in all its abundance has enough for everyone. What a wonderful affirmation! And, it's true..

Like any addiction, some major points may be with me always, rearing ugliness from time to time in the form of inner voice or reaction to specific situations. Now that I know what they are, understand why they are here with me, they can be dealt with, while I make it clear I will not go along with those anymore. I am happier today than any point in my life. I have a peace of mind I could only imagine, and I am beginning to like what I bring to this life and to be comfortable within. I will make mistakes, probably bad decisions from time to time. I will likely not be the happiest driver on the road, and I struggle to have patience in many circumstances. I will never be perfect. What I have now is far better. I express gratitude every day for this life, for my spirit, for the person I am. I feel it is now my job to find the special people who will be in my life, to give back, to be gracious and generous. I am ready for my true purpose here; I welcome it lovingly and with unlimited openness for each moment. Mostly, I am humbled and grateful for being me-now in Life Two.

I Cannot Be With You

Sometimes I shudder with memory; another person walked through my life then.

I have grown to love solitude, space, time - without you.

I do not feel a need to hear you, to feel you, eventually to know the distance between us.

To realize what it takes..the trying, trying, the endless creating and waiting for you, causes me to cringe with fear and exhaustion.

I cannot be with you; it matters not the beauty in your eyes as you smile at me, nor the words I once longed for.

I will turn away from the growing eagerness of your touch; it is just too much and I cannot/will not disrupt my perfect aloneness.

Can You Hear Me?

She was startled awake by incessant ringing from another room. Slowly, she scuffed across the cold, wooden floor, beckoned to the sound growing louder. As she opened one eye, she found herself facing the sofa, she knelt down to where the noise was emanating from, reached between the cushions, and pulled out a cell phone. Searching the small screen for identification, she saw only a series of stars displayed. She opened the receiver and answered, “Hello?” Leaning into the sofa with the phone to her ear, static was all she heard. “Hello?” she repeated. She was drifting back to sleep, sitting on the floor, when the voice from within the phone answered. “Katie, it’s me.”

“Who is ME?” was Katie’s response, thinking it strange, this person from within a cell phone she didn’t own would know her name.

“It’s your gram, Katie!” the voice startled Katie awake. Katie’s gram had been dead for several years.

“Who is this, really?” Katie asked the voice. “I’m not in the mood for harassment so late at night.”

“It is REALLY your gram, Katie!” the voice insisted. “I can prove it; ask me a question only you and gram would know.”

Katie’s interest was piqued. Clearly now, she remembered the close relationship with her grandmother, the smell of sugar cookies baking in her kitchen, her rose cologne. She was, indeed, a special person in Katie’s life. Thinking of her, she felt a longing to talk to her again, wishing she could be enveloped in her big hugs. Katie quizzed the voice, “What was gram’s middle name?”

“That’s an easy one. Rose.”

She thought of the one thing only the two of them knew. “What was the gift gram gave me that no one else was aware of?” Katie thought to herself, now she had this silly caller stumped, would hang up and get back to dreaming.

“It was a heart pendant. I gave it to you for your graduation.” the voice answered bluntly, saying no more.

Katie was in shock, still in disbelief that this voice could be her grandmother calling from another realm.

“Katie, I want to talk to you, to tell you I never meant to hurt you!”

The memory of when her gram did hurt her rushed back, leaving a sinking feeling in her stomach. Katie recalled when she was in the hospital; when the doctors thought she might not make it. She waited for her gram to visit, to hold her hand and comfort her, and was disappointed that she never did. Katie’s hurt feelings told her the grandmother she cherished so deeply must not care for her after all. Later, she realized her gram could not bear to see her so ill. “I know you love me, gram; I know you felt helpless when I was so sick.” Katie began speaking to the voice she now conceded must be the grandmother she missed so deeply. “I wear the pendant every day; many times it has given me strength because it was from you, gram.”

Katie heard a deep sigh, as if she had relieved the pain her grandmother carried through death.

“I love you, Katie.” the voice exclaimed, as the phone went silent, and the light went to dark.

“Gram?” Katie realized her grandmother was gone again. As she closed the receiver, she noticed it was daybreak, the sun was creeping over the hills outside her window, and she suddenly felt a deep sense of calm. She clasped the cell phone lovingly in her hands, brought it to her bedroom, and placed it within the box where she also kept the heart pendant. Silently, she hoped there would be another call.

Leaving

For all the right reasons, she reached out to another life.
Reality and sustenance called to her with vengeance and light.
She fears stepping over the boundary; Will it take her back where she doesn't belong?
Slowly now she goes..baby steps on a landmine.
Knowing she is smart, capable and wise, fearing she is not.
With joy, trepidation, love and angst, she opens the door.

Til Next Time

"It's happening again", she thought to herself.
Waiting, again - Waiting for him to keep his word, he said he would this time.
Standing out there, alone, again, the words form in her mind, "You sonofa...!"
"Perfect!", she exclaims to no one, as the rain descends on her mood.
Her watch tells her it's too late; She is thrown away.
And she wonders exactly what she will do - next time.

The Ugly Sweater

Darla sat next to the girl in the pretty pink dress, in the front seat of a car that delivered them to kindergarten, where they would sing about being "a little teapot, short and stout", and they would learn A-B-C...
The radio was silent when the girl in the beautiful dress began pushing its buttons, click click click click.....
Thinking, "that looks like fun", Darla joined in, and they continued, click click, until, abruptly, the driver swatted at her hand, demanding, "Stop!"
"She's doing it!" Darla mumbled, feeling the warmth of embarrassment fill her face.
Without looking at her, the driver answered, "She'll stop."
Darla looked down at the ugly sweater she was wearing, striped and red, knowing if she were prettier, she would be allowed to play; and the buttons continued to click click click.....

Going, Going...Gone!

Nellie sensed fear in their voices, their worn work glove faces told of foreboding.

The orphaned shell, once her farmhouse, spit her out in disgust and anger

So, Nellie and her best friend, Roger cat, found their safe place on a tractor in the desolate wasteland where crops once flourished.

She recalled fun times riding with her dad, and longed to have him beside her again.

But the world was turning, life was becoming cold, and Nellie knelt on that seat, vice grip hands clinging to the wheel of her flying machine.

As her parents moved toward her with suitcases and tears, she was the beautiful bird soaring high and far away.

Art by Mike Handley

The Plan

She was a 25 year old mother of six children, waiting for the next to happen.
She married the son of her father's good friend, and they lived on a farm they didn't own.
The soil was rich, the cows gave milk faithfully, and the chickens provided eggs for breakfast.
Every day was the same; there was nothing more to life.
So, in the early hours of that morning, before he arose to tend to the chickens, and while the children dreamed in their beds, she took her carefully-packed suitcase from under their bed, and disappeared into history.
The note she left explained, "sometimes it's better to walk away." and she did.

We're Not Out of the Woods

It was a lifetime ago I was with him; and even today, I love him.
Just being with him, I instantly sizzled inside, I wanted to swallow every part of him so he would stay.
For years we enjoyed sharing life, with an ever-present distance that could not be explained.
I did not understand when he said, "We are not out of the woods", knowing I wanted more; fearful this is where we would stay.
It ended, sadly; He left the woods, with me behind missing him in my life; maybe today.
But I took with me a sense of giving and patience he doesn't know he gave me; because I was left alone, in the woods; He could not hear me tell him

I Believe in Sex!

It's a well-documented phenomenon, that, as we age, many seek spirituality in a quest for the meaning of life, for salvation when it's done.
Now that I've reached "a certain age", I am revisiting the issue of belief, and what it means for me.
Today, I decided to believe in sex; it can be spiritual- taking me to places unreachable by vehicle or pony; and talk about "giving witness"!
I have had varying experiences in this area; some leaving me wondering why I bothered to get undressed, while others showed me the way and the hope.
So, I've decided I shall seek more inner sanctum in the area of sex.
If I believe what I read, sex will help me retain some sense of youth, and it's great for continued good health, communing with others, not to mention exercise of vocal cords

The Connection

After so long, it wasn't easy to trust those feelings..those thoughts.
But she didn't want to give up; She just didn't want to try anymore.
Maybe sometime later; Sometime when they would meet and look into each other with lingering interest.
Maybe sometime later; When they would touch, first gently on their hands.
And that touch flies through her, penetrating places now awakening.
She smiles, her eyes glistening, moving closer into him.

In Between the Shower and the Window

Caught..Dripping with remnants of the warm shower rain.
She remembers, just out of there, that she forgot what she needed - and it's over there, past that window of obviousness.
Creeping near, her eyes inspect; And there He is, standing, contemplating - what?
She has seen him there before, all sweated and dripping ~ like her ~ and turning with a fleeting nod.
He is pretty fine; and Maybe he might take a look now; Will he know she is there at the window with nothing but beaded drops covering nothing?
She hesitates, not wanting him to know that she feels transparent in her display; As she looks ahead and walks, slowly, past the window.