July almost gone

My sister Lisa's birthday is tomorrow. She'll be the big 4-0! Mom's making homemade ice cream and cooking some sort of food on the grill. Not sure what yet. Then Sunday, I'm having Dad, Lisa and the boys over for dinner. Dad's birthday is Aug 2.

 

It's hard to believe time has flown so fast. Soon this year will be over and 2005 will be here. I feel as if I'm living day to day, not really thinking of it as time flies by and weeks leave not even a dust trail behind them.

 

Every day I think I'll work on this or that, paint or draw, write or edit...but I don't get a chance to do either some days. The simple joys I get are through writing and art, but time restraints keep me from them. I have books I want to read that are sitting on my bookcase shelf, each summoning me as I walk by them daily.

 

But I do know one thing--I take time to enjoy my nephews every chance I can. I know when they get older they won't wanna hang out with old Aunt Sherrie.  At least I have that comfort, even if I don't get to other things.

 

My ISP has been flaky lately at work. I don't know why. I've done everything I can to help the PC along. Its a dinasaur. Much as Dad doesn't want to invest in another system, we'll have too by the end of the year.

 

Work's been steady for us so far. We usually slow down to a crawl during the summer. I've had some interesting projects to work on. I'm working on some Navy photos from WWII right now. Cracked and creased--but not for long. After they're done, I've got a few photos from the early 70's to fix. They've turned a funny red color.

 

Tomorrow I'll be at work by myself. Maybe I'll be able to get some poems finished. It's usually quiet on Saturdays that Dad has a wedding.

 

Well, back to work. :(

my website 

 

Silly Teen Movies

I watched a crazy teen movie last night--EuroTrip.

 

Sex, teens and craziness along with thin plots and holes in the story. But hey, it was fun to watch.

 

There was one crazy scene where a mime doing a robot imitation fought with the 'lead' guy who was also doing a robot imitation. I swear that was the craziest thing I've seen in ages. Two robots fighting in robot mode. I laughed so freaking hard. I can see it in my head now. And I'm laughing.

 

And the song "Scotty doesn't know" keeps playing in my head.

 

Its a fun movie, full of laughs and ya know, sometimes you need some silliness to counter all the seriousness of daily life.

 

My Sun Sign Profile--I had to laugh--most of it fits me.

Scorpio Sun Sign Profile October 23 - November 21

Scorpio is the eighth Sign of the Zodiac, and you shouldn't take that lightly. You shouldn't take Scorpios lightly, either. Those born under this Sign are dead serious in their mission to learn about others. There's no fluff or chatter for Scorpios, either: these folks will zero in on the essential questions, gleaning the secrets that lie within. Scorpios concern themselves with beginnings and endings, and are unafraid of either; they also travel in a world which is black and white and has little use for gray. The curiosity of Scorpios is immeasurable, which may be why they are such adept investigators. These folks love to probe and know how to get to the bottom of things. The fact that they have a keen sense of intuition certainly helps. It's the Scorpion which symbolizes Scorpios, and it's no accident. Much like the Scorpion would rather kill itself than be killed, those born under this Sign are the ones who are in ultimate control of their destiny. It is life on the Scorpion's terms, too, since these folks promote their agenda (they are quite the executives) and see to it that things go forward. Others may find this overbearing (it can be) and even self-destructive, but that's the beauty of the Scorpion: these folks have tremendous regenerative powers, much like the literal Scorpion can lose its tail and promptly grow a new one. Fearless Scorpions rarely lose, per se, they just keep on going, since they are stubborn and determined to succeed (this Scorpio trait is in keeping with the Fixed Quality assigned to this Sign). Scorpios work as hard as they do so they can someday sit back and feel satisfied with themselves. These folks are intense, passionate and filled with desire. They're also complex and secretive, so don't expect to get much out of them, lest they become suspicious and exit stage left. It's best not to bet against Scorpios, either, since these folks are surprisingly resourceful.

Scorpio is ruled by the Planets Mars and Pluto. Mars was the God of War in ancient Roman mythology and is the first (and most ancient) ruler of Scorpio. When Pluto was discovered in the 20th century, it was also assigned to this Sign. Pluto was known as the God of the Underworld in ancient Roman times, so when coupled with Mars, expect some intense energy to head toward Scorpions here on Earth. This planetary combo makes for people who are motivated, penetrating and aware. Scorpions don't miss much, since they are highly attuned to the vibrations of others. They are intuitive, probing and very focused on knowing who's who and what's what. Scorpions can lose their temper (and even become vengeful) when someone gets in their way, so it's best to give them plenty of room. Remember, they're unafraid, and a loss today simply means an opportunity for victory tomorrow. The Element associated with Scorpio is Water. As opposed to the 'roiling seas' seen in other Water Signs, a better motto for Scorpions would be 'still waters run deep.' Those born under this Sign are as emotional as their waterborne brethren, it's just that they're not as likely to show it. The Scorpio's emotions are repressed, kept under cover. Again, secrets to be used another day. That said, be aware that these folks are clever, perceptive and always in the mix. Their ability to see into things can sometimes be a curse for Scorpions, however, since they can take an insignificant matter and turn it into a huge slight. Beware the Scorpion who feels crossed! These folks can turn vindictive in no time flat. Luckily, once Scorpions catch their breath, they will return to their usual determined and loyal (albeit strong-willed) ways. Finally, while Scorpions aren't above some subtle manipulation to get what they want, they'd much rather take a scientific, even mystical path. The Scorpio-born are powerful and passionate, qualities which serve them well, as long as they don't let them deteriorate into self-indulgence or compulsion. Scorpios love competition in both work and play, which is why they'll air it out in sports and games. Extreme sports are right up the Scorpion's alley, as is most anything which will test their mettle. They've got to have an adversary, since it makes the game that much more fun. The Scorpion's colors? Powerful red and serious black. When it comes to love, though, Scorpions soften up a bit and are caring and devoted with their lovers, even if they do hold on a bit tight. Scorpions are also lusty in the extreme (how else?), so they need to be mindful of their reproductive organs. The great strength of the Scorpio-born is in their determination, passion and motivation. Scorpions don't know the word quit, which is why they usually get the job done. A powerhouse? Like no other.

my website 

 

Poetry Styles R Me

I realized why I love poetry styles challenges--because when I master a poetry form, I feel that I am a true poet. The same goes with writing exercises. I get bored easily and find that a challenge awakens my muse. I was talking with Robert about this. He said that when he needs a challenge he thinks of a new subject to write a poem about. Ah... it is so nice to see the individuality of creative minds at work. I wonder what other poets do to inflame the desire of their muse. Hmmm a good question to post in the ygroups.

Now, yesterday day I found a new style--The Ethere poetry form. Below is a Double Standard Ethere that I wrote last night after thinking about an IM I received this weekend from an 'inflamed' would be cyber suitor who peeped into my photo album on my fairy profile and decided to write a haiku about my blue eyes. I ignored him...I'm sure he eventually found success with another cybersex fiend.

The poem is called "The Blues of My Eyes."

Winds
drifting
moving clouds
across the sky.
The blues of my eyes~
you say Heaven reigns there
in pale gold lights that sparkle,
revealing a smile that lingers.
You long to claim the smile in my eyes,
attempting to seduce me with sonnets.
Silly man, I write my own poetry,
fine-tuning verse with the heart of me
mastering words with discipline.
My eyes do not hold heaven
nor does gold sparkle there.
I claim no beauty,
but in my words.
The real me
is in
them.

Will this work day ever end? I feel as if I've been here for 10 hours.

Well, Lisa (my sister) and I watched the Secret Window last night. A good flick... actually better than the short story Secret Window, Secret Garden by Stephen King. Its in his Four Past Midnight collection.

If you've read the short story... don't expect the book to follow it faithfully. I wonder if King realizes that when the movie is so extremely different from the story that the meaning of the story is gone. Especially with Secret Window. I won't go into detail but I will say this... the ending is not a part of the story in the Four Past Midnight book...not even close to the ending of the story. Hell its in f%cking left field somewhere.

Going to dinner tonight with a good friend. Don't know where yet, but I hope its a yummy-licous place. I'm hungry.

Someone lent me their Cold Mountain DVD, so I'll check it out sometime this weekend. No major plans except to paint my bookcase and put another one together. After the stress of this week, I plan to relax.

A Quote for Today

"The greatest weakness of most humans is their hesitancy to tell others how much they love them while they're still alive."

- Orlando A. Battista -

 

 

Days of Wine and Roses

Days of wine and roses were swept away in moonlight.
Every scent of our passion sailed on the night breeze,
until the air was alive with the smell of love and us.
My Moonstone man, strong but fragile, you loved night,
the dark skies lived in your eyes.
I was made of sunlight, you once said smiling.
You pampered me with riches from the earth.
Wine stained my lips and rose petals danced in my tresses.
With spun sun gold fingers, I traced your lips,
memorizing their folds, their creases and the smile hiding there.
Days of wine and roses can't last forever, so we were told.
But we lived them longer than the Gods ever dreamed
and even as night claimed us, we burned a constellation
that the heavens can't ignore.

Robbery can be Fatal

Martha, one of the 'bakery' ladies had a tragedy to occur early Sat morning at around 1 am. Her son Robert was killed at his convienent store during a robbery. I knew him very well. He was only 27. Martha doesn't work at the bakery much anymore due to having to take care of her husband, Jerry who had a stroke last summer. He's improving daily.

 

Robert was married to Rhonda, a girl who doesn't know a stranger and has the clearest lightest blue eyes I've ever seen. I saw her the night I went to see Spiderman. She was at the theatre with a young girl she calls her 'adoptive' daughter. She talked about the store and all the plans they had. They began leasing it about 3 or 4 months ago. She told me to drop by and said that my dad did daily. Its on the road going to his house.

 

One thing about the store is that its off the dark exit # 19 of I-95. Right beside it, is a big vast wooded area that runs close to the Lumber River. There used to be a 'beach' close to it--McMillian Beach, a very small pond/lake off the river with clear water, back in the 40-60's it was a local hangout complete with a bath house. But the lady who owned it died years ago and now, its an abandoned area thick with overgrowth--a place where drug users hang out. (My Granny Leggett who died in 1995 once got lost there--but that's another story).

 

I am very distressed over Robert's death. He was a quiet guy, a hard worker. When he would come over to the bakery, he was always friendly and smiling. Martha and Jerry dote on him, because he is such a good boy. Or was. Gail who owns the bakery and I have talked about this for the last few days. She is distressed and I am comforting. 

 

The police called Rhonda this morning and told her that they were through processing the store and that she can go clean up the blood and reopen if she wants too.  Very compassionate, eh? I told Gail if they need me to help clean up, I will do it. And no, I don't want to but that's what friends do--they are there for you, even when its hard on them.

 

Below is a copy of the article that was in yesterday's paper about the robbery.

 

Store owner shot 4 times

By Mark Locklear -Staff writer

LUMBERTON - The owner of a convenience store who was murdered Saturday was shot four times although a videotape does not show him resisting two men who were robbing his business, according to police.

Police say they expect to release still photographs of the two men soon. A security camera recorded the murder of Robert Woodell, 27, who owned Ali's Discount Cigarette Store at 2011 Carthage Road.

Police have not been able to identify the men, but Lt. Mickey Biggs said, "We're looking into some information we received," Biggs said.

The videotape shows two men entering the store shortly after 1 a.m. One of the men shoots Woodell four times, three times in the torso and once in the head. The men then stole money from the cash register and ran from the store.

"He didn't appear to be resisting," Biggs said of Woodell.

Lumberton police Officer Jerry Kinlaw, who was patrolling the area and heard the store's alarm sounded, found Woodell.

Biggs wouldn't say how much money was taken, but did say no one else was in the store at the time of the robbery. The tape has been turned over to the State Bureau of Investigation.

"We are trying to enhance the video and get some prints. The reason why it is taking so long is there aren't too many places around that make copies from video," Biggs said.

According to Biggs, both men were black. One of the men was dressed in a white cap, long white shirt, dark pants and white sneakers. The other man was dressed in a dark baseball cap, a light shirt, dark pants and dark shoes.

Biggs said he couldn't comment on the ages of the robbers.

Woodell and his wife recently took over management of the store, also known as the Texaco Food Mart. It remained closed this morning with yellow crime scene tape encircling the parking lot.

Woodell lived at 411 Old Whiteville Road.

Wow.. new features

I'm impressed. Now blogger has made it easier to make our blogs interesting.
No more fumbling with Microsoft word--then pasting.
 
With this post, I'll lose my new feature virginity. :D
 
 
 

Storms

We've had storms here since Saturday. Yesterday was the worst. The lightning was so bad I was afraid to stand close to a window.

Naturally, my ISP has been flaky due to the rain. Today so far it's been okay but I've been too busy with work to post or reply in all the Ygroups.

I'm in a prose mood. And have been working offline of my novel. I want it to be the best it can be and won't settle til I'm 97% happy. (yea I'll never be 100%.. and 3% of negative thinking isn't bad)

Let's see.. what's been going on! Work's been busy. I've got a few orders due out this week. Dad's been photographing beauty queens. I swear their moms are gonna poison me with hair spray. My desk isn't far from the makeup table. I have a fan going and its not so bad until they go into the camera room. Between poses the mom sprays the hair and it rides the air current to my desk. No amount of sneezing and coughing can get them to put down that can. Where are the hairspray police when you need them? Hell, half these girls don't need all that makeup or goop on their faces.

JS(a guy whose been in my poetry groups forever) was on vacation and drove through Lumberton on his way north and also back home to Florida. He sent me an IM a while ago saying he thought of me when he drove through L'ton. I had to laugh because if you blink, you'll miss the town. We've been discussing the Harry Potter movie and I'm working on a draft of our combined thoughts and will post it once the debate is over.

I'm considering a mini vacation in August...Myrtle Beach sounds good. If the Outer Banks were closer I would go there. I love that area. When I lived in Greenville, we used to drive up that way often. I remember how in the 80's it wasn't very commercialized. The last time I was up that way was in 99 or 2001. It had changed so much. But the wild horses were still there around Duck and that's all that matters.

Well I've goofed off enough. Time to get home and see the Nephews. I think William is hanging with me tonight. We've got a Mario Kart race to run.

Stone by Stone

I was thinking about the past last night and how aspects of it seem to slip into the present. What's up with that? Why can't the past stay away and not taint the present?

I'm not saying my past is tainting my present--well, no more than what the average person taint. But there are times when aspects of my past seem to flicker in my present, like the flutter of eyelashes when I blink.

A conversation with my friend Sara yesterday made me think of walls and how I've watched them as they are built and feeling helpless as to stop them. The thought stuck with me all evening and before bed I logged on to write the poem below. I call it Stone By Stone

I remember this spring, green and sparkly like sun on water.
The petals of dogwood trees floating on air like whispers.
Rain fell in soft sprinkles, kissing the new grass into growth.
You held my hand and we danced beneath a smiling moon.

Our passion ignited the skies and we wept with the intensity.
I think that we made spring arrive early with our love,
green, lush and so beautiful—almost painful to look at.
Winter would have embraced me all summer, if not for you.

Then as quickly as a summer thunderstorm, you pulled away,
my delicate hand gloveless without yours.
Was it the exotic intensity that you couldn't handle?
Or my passion that burned your soul with a kiss?

There are no answers as to why you built the wall.
In disbelief I watched you place each stone,
wondering if it was heaven crying or me.
No mason could have done a more perfect job.

In silence I waited for the wall to disappear,
hoping that you would see how it marred
our view of each other, of our love…of our heaven.
All you could see was your own sad view of yourself.

Part of me now looks at the wall and hates it,
wanting to bulldoze it to the ground in flames.
But my heart knows that you should remove it,
examining each stone and why you placed it there…

in the first place.

A Quote for Today

 

"Life shrinks & expands in proportion to one's courage."

- Anais Nin -

 

 

 

Migraine

I had one yesterday. I thought it was the beginning of a sinus infection--who knows, maybe it is.

It started slowly...the headache. Then built up to a blinding pain. I was chatting with Robert and suddenly I couldn't see the monitor clearly. So I gracefully said my goodbyes, logged offline, saved the project I had just finished and went home.

Mom and William were there. I told her I had a blinding headache. She asked if Dad was smoking in the studio. I told her yes.. he was and had been for a while. Cigarette after cigarette. She gave me the lecture that he deserved, but hey, its his life.

I tried to play with William for a while but the more I moved the more my head felt as if it were going to explode. I went to bed at 7 pm and slept until 8:15 this morning. I woke up clear as a bell, though tired. Probably from so much sleep.

My sinuses are draining and I've got a nasal drip but so far the headache's gone...though my forehead is sore to touch. I hope its gone--the headache.

But it did inspire this poem:

Life can be a migraine, twisting my heart, mind and soul in a vise.
Squeezing until I feel as if death would be heaven.
I can’t think. I can’t feel. I can barely breathe,
until you remind me that with a kiss that there is fresh air
and raspberry tea and other wonderful things.
I wonder sometimes how life would be without you.
With every crushing blow I receive, you heal me with a touch.
In every heartache I feel, you find a song that inspires doves.
When I am down so low, you lift me up so high
that I can touch fireworks and feel the burning of red—the cooling of blue.
I can’t imagine how black my life would be without your light.
You give me the belief that I can live in castles in the sky.

~ ~ ~

The fireworks line came from William--when he wanted me to lift him up to touch the explosion in the sky.

I'm finding that my poems are really for anyone or to anyone--they are pieces of my life around me. I touch things and a line for a poem or story flashes through my head. I try to quickly jot them down, so they don't get lost in the rush of life.

Am I truly a poet/writer now?

The First week of July

...has been busy!

And I think I'm getting a sinus infection! Not good.

The BBQ was fun. Tiring but fun. We worked in the yard before the BBQ and it's looking nice. To Ben's disappointment we saw no frogs.

I got a new (really used but its new to him) Nintendo 64 game for William...Pokemon Snap. You ride in machines and snap pictures of the Pokemon creatures. Some are tricky... because you have to pound them with a pester ball or food or sometimes play a flute and wake them up. When we started playing it Monday, we only got through the first two courses. William didn't spend last night...so... I invested my energy and time into going through the courses and saving each one. I made it all the way to the last course. There are 63 pokemon creatures. I've found 59. I know where the others are but getting to them is trippy.

But I'm not worried about it...I'll get them eventually. At least William can go where he wants to now.

(ha ha... okay I admit it. I love the game too.)

Another Sunny Day in NC

It's another sunny day in North Carolina,

No rain coming down.

All I can think about is the chill of winter's

Escape from this town.

 

I want to escape too.

 

Another humid heart worn on my sleeve,

The death of our spring.

I grow weary of a summer that's just started,

Memories that cling.

 

I want to forget you.

 

Somehow I will or live a painless death,

No heaven around.

It's another sunny day in North Carolina.

My soul makes no sound.

 

~ ~ ~ ~
An ode to the heat! It's 98 degrees today...no idea how high the heat index is.

Happy 4th of July

Since my neighbors are spending the evening firing off rockets red glare and I can't relax enough to doze off (yes I'm aware its early--William's here tonight and he keeps waking up, calling for me.)

 

Tomorrow, its grilling day--my cousin from Gawja is up with his family. So we're having a big BBQ late afternoon. Fun fun fun...

 

Right at Dusk, my uncle set off some fireworks. He lives across the street--three houses over. William and I stood in the front yard and watched them. Then the neighbors behind me, set some off...so we ran back there, watched for a few mins..then my uncle would set some off...we would run back to the front of the house. He held my hand, so I wouldn't get lost. He wanted me to lift him up so he could touch the lights. I'm smiling now thinking of how confident he is--that I can lift him that high.

 

Ah... rain... that should put an end to the fireworks for now. Since its thundering, I'll head to bed. He'll have me up early tomorrow.

Long Hot July Weekend

...full of relatives dropping by.

 

I've been busy the last day or so, trying to get ahead so I can take Monday off and BBQ with the family.

 

But I don't wanna! I've got some new poetry books that I want to read--The Best of Rumi, 9 Horses by Billy Collins, Mermaids Explained by Christopher Reid (UK poet) and a book about articles, essays and poetry by Charles Simic.  Plus I've gotten in a few new DVD's.

 

I wonder if I could hide in my room and no one find me. Nawww...wouldn't work--the nephews seem to know my hiding places.

 

I guess I'm stuck with the BBQ, but at least I have Sat eve and Sunday to read.

 

We've got spotty weather again. It was sprinkly this morning. My hand is achy today. I haven't had this much trouble with it in a few years. Maybe I should go to a new doctor regarding it...someone mentioned acupunture. I'll have to do a search online to see how effective it is with Carpal Tunnel Syndrome.

 

 

Drowning

My friend Sara and I were chatting this morning before I came to work. I was having my coffee and entering sweepstakes, which I usually do most mornings before work. She had been swimming the night before and we discussed it. I mentioned a fear of water and she asked if I knew why or if it was a deep rooted fear that needed exploring. I said that I almost drowned when I was 12. As I thought about it, I realized it would make a good journal post.

The incident was all off 15 or 20 mins, but the repercussions lasted for years. I couldn't put my head under water, not even in the shower until I was 24. Charles, my ex-fiance would do his best to get me to dunk myself in the shallow area of the pool that we had at the apartment I lived at when I was 26. I finally did to please him. It took all my courage though and I was shaking when I got out of the water, something I hid from him, pretending to be cold instead of confessing what it cost me.

I do not know how to swim. I should learn, but part of the fear still lives on.

In a reply to a story Steve posted in one of my poetry groups back in 2002, called Surf. I wrote a brief reply, describing the near drowning. I didn't go into many details. I went through the archives of the group and found my reply. I'm adding to it. But the essence is here.

When I was twelve I almost drowned. It was June--a month after my beloved stepfather died, sometime after school closed for the summer. My Step-Aunt Janice and her family invited my siblings and me to come to the beach with them. She had two boys who were our ages, Wayne 11 & William 9. William and John my brother were best friends. Wayne was one of those guys who liked to hang out with girls (He came out of the closet in the early 90's). One of our older stepsisters, Libby came along with us. She was a "grownup" but very immature, so we got along great with her. Mom didn't come with us. She had to deal with the farming.

The motel was at Long Beach NC, right across from the pier with a game room. In fact, Rick Flair the wrestler was there that week, hanging out at the pier and drinking beer in the parking lot. Libby flirted with him but he had eyes for some barely legal blondes and ignored her. I wasn't impressed with him. He was as loud in real life as he was on TV. This was during his beginning years. When I see him on the Wrestling shows, I think of my drowning. He isn't one of my favorite people.

It was Friday and we were leaving that Sunday to go back home. The weather was sunny but the clouds were gray and so was the water. I remember that we placed our blanket and towels close to the lifeguard station. I would be 13 in 4 months and had begun to notice guys. The lifeguard that was on duty most of the time during our beach play was a cute tanned blonde guy. He would smile at us. At 12, I had a C cup and looked older-the bane of being the first to develop in my class. But I was still naïve and innocent. Not to mention very shy.

That day, we played in the water, never going past waist level. I remember the waves were strong and kept knocking us over. My brother played in the sand with William, building forts. Lisa, Wayne, Libby and I were in the water. Suddenly our laughter stopped. We felt the water trying to pull us away from the shore and Libby said we should go back to the blankets for a while. But she slipped and was in a "sink hole"--a dip in the floor of the ocean. She called out and I was the closest to her, so I reached for her.Suddenly I was swept out bey the under current. She was probably six feel or more infront of me. I started going under. Each time I surfaced, I screamed for help and swallowed water. I remember seeing a lady at the shore, standing in the shallows, watching me as I went under. I saw Libby moving towards shore, abandoning any attempt to get me, because I was too far out.

Survival instincts took over. I quit screaming and concentrated on living. I remember thinking, "Kick hard," when I hit the bottom and "Breathe when I broke surface. I don't how long I did this. My eyes were open under the water. I saw small silver fish darting, seaweed floating and the bottom of the ocean was a washed out tan. I remember fatigue hitting me so strongly that I knew I would be making my last kick to get my last breath of air... I thought of my mother and how sad she would be. As I surfaced I barely got a breath before I began to sink. I had given up. I guess my right hand was still above water, because suddenly I was yanked upward. When I broke the liquid chains, I heard a voice in my ear, saying "Relax, I've got you." It was the handsome blonde lifeguard, who I had covertly checked out earlier. I coughed up wather as he swam us back to shore. That swim seemed longer than my time struggling in the wet prison, trying to fight for my freedom. He kept reassuring me that I was okay, that he wouldn't let me go.

My cousin William had run to tell his mom that I couldn't get out of the water--the lifeguard overheard him. Libby and the other kids were screaming at the woman in the shallows to do something. I guess she thought we were playing a game, because she ignored them. Thank God William ran over to his mom or I would have died. We went back to the motel room, after I was able to stand. The Lifeguard stayed by my side the whole time. I'll never forget how safe I felt. It was like being wrapped in an emotional security blanket.

I blotted out a lot of it for years--the burning of my lungs, the taste of salt water and the consequential vomiting afterwards. You know, some say that right before you die that your life flashes before your eyes. Mine didn't. I felt sadness for my Mom, but it wasn't the strongest feeling I had as I struggled. I fought hard to live. For days, the muscles in my body, mainly my legs and arms were strained. But when I accepted that I couldn't fight anymore, I knew a peace that I have yet to feel again in my life. When I embraced it, the vivid image of the being in the water and aware of my surrounding started to dim. My eyes closed and that's all I remember, as I started sinking. Death would have been peaceful, like sleep I think. Though that peace offered comfort, nothing made my heart as happy as knowing I was saved and I would see Mom again.

I still love the ocean. It taught me that beauty can be deadly.