Merry Cookies!

‘Eelloo to everyone, Alistair Cookie here!

Lot of joys, lots of toys and all that hi-hip-hooray ballyhoo this time of year. Ohh, but if your children only knew the real truth about the man in the red suit… I tell you: he’s a cookie monster! Yes, come closer to your screen and listen as I reveal the sordid narration. You know how much I enjoy a great narration. Sordid, well, I think that’s the word Mum uses to describe the dreadful diapers. So we’ll sort through the sordid tale together.

Mum and I had gone to the local strip mall; one of those places your car careens off the road onto, and you park and shop. ‘Grammie’ had mailed the most glorious navy blue and white, attired, baby stroller. I was feeling dapper and all full of my loving little narration type self. Mum was wheeling me everywhere around the mall and I was quite the tease with those “pink stroller babes’! (“Hello, I’ll let you have a ride in my navy and white for a cookie? What? How rude!”) Some stroller babes are ridiculous. They throw you a toy or cookie and then scream for their Mum to retrieve it.

But wait! There he sat in the big chair, with that red hat and a large box of candy canes. Yes, he lured us, one by one, into that chair with promises of candy; yummy red and white candy, which all of the Mums precisely took away as soon as it left his hand. (“Oh what fun, oh, what now? Ooh, sticky baby time, that’s what. No one’s Mum wanted a sticky baby.”) The line was very long and I was there, trapped like a rat, through an apple, bottle of juice, those fun teething crackers, and 16 repeats of “Santa Claus is coming to town” blaring over the mall speakers. Why hadn’t somebody realized he was already there? Stop the music!

While I waited there was one sordid tale after another of children giving this man their cookies; well, sort-a sordid, I suppose. But he was getting a lot of cookies and we found out he does this world-over, whatever that means! So there, the truth is in your hands now. Don’t give this man your cookies. Keep them or send them to me. You'll find my address on the profile page.

Merry Cookies!

Great Feelings

Great feelings begin with acceptance of others
Give to ones that need sun to shine for them
Find a moon to cast a shadow across the land
Prepare a pool to catch tears for the one who is lonely
Follow the Jasmine scent of the night breeze
Find the lover who waits
Receive warmth by the crackling, hissing fire
Longing with heart to share and weep wisely
Walk through cool morning dew where the feet are chilled
Sweet juices flowing over the face in sticky joy
Watch the sky fill with sunlight
A gentle ocean comes to greet the sky
Above the clouds are chasing clouds
A bird flies over where sweet song
Awakens the morning man
To great feelings
To great feelings!
Great feelings
Begin with
Acceptance of others

Closure - an inside job

At the age of six years old I watched as an ambulance left the driveway below my window, taking my Mom to the hospital. I wasn’t too worried because the last time she went there she came home with a little brother for me. He was barely two years old, but what do six year olds know; Mom could have been having another baby, but she wasn’t.

She spent thirteen weeks, equal to three months and one week, on the psychiatric ward having shock treatments and God knows what else. I stared in unbelief the day we brought her home as she kept repeating to my Dad, “Take me back to the hospital; I’m not ready to come home.” He drove on, smiled, and sometimes laughed, and I wondered how he could be that way. I remember begging him to please take her back… and began to cry when he laughed at me too.

I knew things would never be the same because she was never the same. The bouncing, bubbly Mom I once had was gone. Instead a “mean woman” came to live with us and I began to hide and isolate from everyone. Long hours out in the yard proved to be the best hiding place, as no one bothered to come find me. I wandered from house to house, meeting other children’s’ Moms, just so I could feel loved the way I used to. Pretty soon those Moms were talking to my Mom and begging her to just let me stay another hour at their houses. Seems everyone wanted a little girl except the people at my house. They were busy being angry and throwing things.

When my Mom died it’s as if all of these issues came back to haunt me. What had happened to her to so change her spirit? Why did she almost hound me to stay close by, yet pushed me away? The answers I finally figured out took 40 years to come forth and I can promise you that I’ve been able to forgive her every unkind word and act. What was left was closure for me from me: an inside job. It would take learning about my own mental health issues and how empathy from others would and could help me mend. Though I might not ever be 100 percent, I will try and not let anyone deter me from seeking my goal; welcoming the empathy that supports my inner healing… and eventual closure.

then this

“The idea is to admit and accept that you're experiencing mental distress and that something needs to change. It is better to try and focus on solutions rather than letting the problem(s) overwhelm us.”

Three weeks before Christmas

Three weeks before Christmas, I stood at the road,
Surveying the house lights and checking the load.

Most strands lit up brightly, one hung down too far.
I stepped in the road, was struck down by a car.

The driver was nice and he wore a red suit.
I glanced in his car and saw tons of loot.

He had everything, from mixers to trolleys,
And bags full of toys, including small dollies.

The stars that I saw, when he hit me, were fading.
I thought of the task of my house light upgrading.

He had me sit down while he went to work.
The strand hung too far, he fixed with a jerk.

From a bag he retrieved in the back of his car,
He presented the most brilliantly lit golden star.

On the top of the house he moved like an adder.
I looked all around, but where was his ladder?

He danced and he pranced as he sang out with laud.
Dumbfounded I sat there and could only applaud.

In the blink of an eye he stood on the ground.
The leaves were all dry, but he made not a sound.

It was then that I noticed the white beard and hair.
My eyes must have widened, he laughed at my stare.

This couldn't be 'him', he didn't exist,
But I just had to ask; I couldn't resist.

I turned to say something and found he was gone.
Had I merely passed out right here on the lawn?

Later that evening my family came out.
I flipped on the switch and heard a great shout!

The tiny lights twinkled with nothing to mar.
The biggest surprise was the golden lit star.

The years pass by quickly, and the star's always bright.
There's no cord connected, no batteries for light.

Yet every December the cheers always jar,
And I think of the “'dream” when hit by that car.

The words he exclaimed when he left with his load
"Merry Christmas to you, and stay out of the road"

Finally

I'm going home! Finally away from this cold spot. Finally away from the wrong type of vacation. Finally to begin thinking about where my life is headed. Finally I can get on with the things I want to do. Finally just me and the people that appreciate my life. Finally, love for me from me. Finally I'm going home!