MORIKO - repost

Moriko

     Bunsa was still very weak. Moriko took him out to the back yard, where the fresh air and the beauty of the forest could help him get better. She noticed that he was more irritable with her than usual, but didn't realize that it was more than just the post-illness stress. For his sake, she tried to be more affectionate and cheerful, pouring all her love on him, like only the Japanese women can. Gradually, Bunsa put aside his fear and opened his heart to Moriko once again. The old man stayed with them for a few weeks, while the affected village still needed his help.      
     On a balmy summer evening, the old man and Bunsa enjoyed a game of Shogi, the Japanese chess. The old man took it easy on Bunsa, he let him win a few matches in a row. He stood by the open door to the back yard, looking into the approaching dusk. He noticed something in the trees and exclaimed: "Oh!" Then suddenly his face changed, he became pale and had to sit down quickly. Moriko came in from one of her foraging trips with a bird that she snared in the forest and noticed that something was wrong. She ran up to him, asking about the reason for his distress, but he only gazed at her with widely opened eyes. All night long, they heard him pacing in a tiny room where he lived. The old man went back to his town shortly after. He never explained to them, what shocked him that day. 
     A few months passed. Moriko and Bunsa became closer than ever. The life in the village was beginning to get back to normal, if you can call normal the pain in so many people's hearts for the loss of their loved ones: 
     "the gods of death have passed me over...autumn dusk". 
     In the first month of a new winter, Moriko found out that she was pregnant again. What was she to do? She wanted this child more than anything else in her life, more even than life itself. But the memory of the previous pain urged her to fear the possibility of another loss. Bunsa, although reeling with joy, understood his wife's misgivings. He gently tried to allay her worry. Three crucial months passed without a problem. Moriko dared to hope again. She started to disappear in the woods like before, but now she came home radiant with health. 
     The baby was born in the autumn. He was big and hale, but a line of pale hair ran down his spine from the nape of the neck to a small bottom. After the initial shock, the father was told that it happens sometimes and does not portend a bad omen. The mother didn't let the boy off her arms. She nursed, changed and cooed to him, singing and talking to him all the time. Both parents were delighted by this little miracle that the gods granted them after so many trials. 
     "a baby boy cries for milk...glorious blossoms." 
     They called their child Kokuro - heart, spirit.

      In the spring, Bunsa was called for a job in the old man's village again. Moriko and he agreed to go there together with a baby, to check of their friend and let him take part in their joy. The trip took a little longer than the last time, because, plus to both young people's desire to spend some time in the woods, like they did as the newlyweds, taking care of the baby's needs delayed their arrival.         The old man looked like he was buried in his work for a good while. His eyes and cheeks were sunken, it was obvious that he didn't bother to cook for himself, and no one else did neither. He warmly welcomed his young friends to his house and was overjoyed to see Kokuro. Moriko immediately began to cook and scrub the floors. The men sat and smoked over the cups of sake. "I am writing a fantastic story" - the old man said finally. "Would you like to hear it?" Bunsa bowed deeply: "Yes, please, it will be an honor!" 
     From the kitchen Morko heard the old man rise to get his writing and settle back on the tatami. 
     "After a long battle for the lives of my fellow countrymen" - the old man began - "I stayed with my dear friends in a nearby village. They were a young couple, but the pain and suffering touched their lives as well. On a calm evening, I stood gazing into their backyard, when, in the approaching dark, I saw a small fox carrying a bird in her mouth emerge from the trees. I was about to share this good omen with my friends, for the fox is a powerful spirit and can be a great ally, when the fox dropped a bird and began to shimmer!" 
     The men heard the crash in the kitchen. They rushed there to see, what happened. Moriko sat amid the fallen crockery and spilt rice, horrified. She brought her hand forward in a gesture of supplication. The old man, after taking in her dismay, walked up to her and said quietly: "I know, what you are. Don't you think, your husband should also know the truth?" 
     Bunsa looked at him and Moriko, not understanding, what it was about. He almost went to her then, but her form began to shimmer and change! He leapt backwards, smashing into the low table. Where Moriko was, only her clothes laid on the kitchen floor. Inside them something was hiding, not daring to come out. 
     Bunsa reached for a broom and nudged the pile of clothes with it's handle. A small furry face with the whiskers and erect ears timidly emerged from it. A fox was glancing anxiously between Bunsa, the old man and the door, as if thinking to dash out! 
     As if struck by lightning, Bunsa staggered out of the kitchen into the bedroom, where Kokuro was sleeping. He fell on the floor by his son's form. Thoughts were racing through his mind, the memories of his visions during the sickness, the suspicions that he pushed away. Like the waves, those thoughts crashed against one single question: "What was he supposed to do now?" 
     He heard the door slide aside and, in a little while, the dogs' barking. It sounded like a whole band of them were after something. "Moriko!" He acted on pure impulse to protect his wife. He ran out of the house and bounded toward the forest, where the chase was leading. He came upon the snarling dogs at the foot of the woods, where the fox hid in a hole in a tree's trunk. 
     Bunsa didn't have any protection with him: no staff or a stick to repel the dogs' attack. Nevertheless, he put himself between Moriko and her vicious pursuers. The old man arrived also, panting and huffing, but armed with two strong canes that he brought from the house. Together, they were able to inflict enough damage to dissuade the dogs from staying there any longer. 
     After the last of the beasts fled, Bunsa and the old man tried to convince Moriko to come out. In vain, they called her name into the tree hole. Perhaps, she already left through another opening... 

     Bunsa forgot all about a job that he was there to do. For days, he stayed in that wood, searching for his changeling-wife. The only thing on his mind and heart was, how to get her back. The old man hired a young girl in the village to look after Kokuro. Time to time, she would bring the boy to his father and look in confusion and sympathy as he'd shed tears onto the warm baby-bundle. What was he to do? Abandon his son, his people and live in the forest in hopes that Moriko will one day come back to him? 
     There was only one choice open to him. The old man saw him and Kokuro to the edge of the village and bid them good bye, promising to keep an eye out for Moriko-the-fox. 
     "Everything I touch with tenderness, alas, pricks like a bramble." 
     The hardest part was to avoid Moriko's parents' questions about her disappearance. Bunsa couldn't tell them the truth about their daughter, neither could he simply say that she suddenly died, for the hope that she might change her mind and come back. He steeled himself to the villagers' nosy inquiries and tried to focus on day-to- day living. A lady from Shinano-machi took his son in. Bunsa saw him every few days. He brought the rapidly growing boy home and on the fair days spent a lot of time with him in the back yard, as he used to do it with Moriko. In the evenings, when the fireflies came out and filled the space between the trees with their glow, Bunsa learned to restrain himself from dashing into the woods, because after many attempts to do so, he accepted that it was never going to be the shimmer of Moriko's transformation that he saw there. 

The crisp heat of the summer gave way to the mild warmth of autumn. Kokuro was quickly developing, but by the date of his first birthday he didn't walk yet. On that day Bunsa had him at his house. They sat together in the backyard, Bunsa showing his son the butterflies, the flowers and the birds, and the boy delighting his father with his laughter.  

It happened when Bunsa went into the house for a minute and was just coming back with a blanket for a baby. He stepped out the door and froze: a fox was crawling toward Kokuro! It came close to the boy and then lay there, it's  head on the front legs, the whole body trembling with the suppressed need. Kokuro crawled to the fox and gingerly touched it's fur. The animal licked the boy's hand, then went all around Kokuro, sniffing. rubbing  the boy with it's body and licking him. Kokuro was laughing, but when the air shimmered and a lady suddenly appeared, where there was none a second before, he started bawling. Bunsa was torn by conflicting emotions: he wanted to run to comfort and protect his son, but he couldn't move, because, for the first time in months, he saw his wife, and she was more beautiful than ever! He forced himself to walk out into the backyard slowly. At first, she was startled and looked like she was about to make a run for it, but Bunsa talked to her softly, putting all his heart in his words: "My dear wife, I missed you so much! You don't need to worry, I will do my best to understand your nature and won't hold it against you! Please, stay with Kokuro and myself, don't run!" 
Moriko slumped to the ground and Bunsa put the blanket over her naked body. He held her for a long time, and, after awhile, she also put her hands around him. Kokuro stopped crying and was now sucking his thumb and dozing in the dying sunlight. 


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Tune in to read an alternate ending to Moriko!

MORIKO - repost

Moriko

     The dogs were the first to meet them in the village. Bunsa noticed it before: his wife was terrified of dogs. Her family didn't have any mangy curs slinking about their yards, but when she ventured into her small town, she always kept a stout cane with her and ran into a shop at the first sight of a dog. The canines here were bolder and more vicious. In no time at all, Bunsa and Moriko were surrounded by a circle of barking and snarling beasts. Bunsa abandoned the cart that he was pushing and leapt to his wife's defense. A few well placed blows at least slowed down the attack and allowed time for the villagers to come to their guests' aid. Soon the dogs were dispersed and Bunsa and Moriko welcomed into the town.The couple was installed in a house where they were going to rent a room for the next few weeks. The place was tiny; it was originally supposed to house only one person. Moriko didn't mind. She wiped the dust and put a few possessions that they brought with them in their proper places. The owner of the house was an old man. He, obviously, was rich because in all the time that they spent there, they didn't see him do anything in a way of usual work. All day long, he read old texts and wrote. He also took long walks in the woods outside the village. He liked Moriko right from the first and plied her with tea and mochi. 
     Bunsa went to work the next morning. Moriko made breakfast for the old man and cleaned the house. That left a lot of time for her to wonder, what she was going to do with herself, while Bunsa was working. She didn't want to go outside for the fear of the dogs. A few of them hung by the old man's house, waiting for her to come out. Moriko looked out the window, moved around the living room, im'a, running her fingers through the multitude of the manuscripts lying on every surface. She already missed Bunsa. The old man came in, saw her listless figure. "A body of dust, lighter than dust...little butterfly", he thought. He asked, what was the matter. He told her to get ready to go outside, took a heavy stick waiting in the corner by the door, and they walked out into the street. At the sound of the old man's voice, and encouraged by the weight of the stick on their hides, the terrified dogs scattered. The old man took Moriko right to the building site, where Bunsa worked. He left the stick for Moriko and went home.      
     So, that was how it went for the next few weeks. In the early afternoon, the old man would see Moriko to the street, to give her courage to brave the streets alone. She then made her way to the building site. Sometimes Bunsa didn't notice, when she came. He would lift his head from whatever he was doing and see her, sitting on a log, hugging knees to her chest. The look on her face was enough to make him smile.

     

     The next time Bunsa was called to work in another village, Moriko couldn't go with him: she was pregnant. Bunsa could hardly wait to get back home, but when he ran up the steps and into the front room of his house, there was nobody there to greet him. The whole place had a feeling of neglect that chilled Bunsa to the bone. He found Moriko in the back yard. She looked at him with the empty, hollow eyes, and he knew the truth. She miscarried. Holding her gently, he felt the salt of his tears in his mouth. He was so upset, that she had to go through the terror of losing a child without him! Moriko didn't cry. She quietly hugged him, with all her might. 
     Time after time, Moriko got with a child and lost it in the first three months. Her songs stopped. She went about the house in a pragmatic, efficient way, made meals and did everything a good wife should do, but the joy of life left her eyes. The only time she looked half her old self, was in the forest. Bunsa tried to go with her like before, but she softly, but with the steel in her voice, told him to stay home. She spent hours in the woods now and came back like a wild woman: with twigs and leaves sticking in her unbound hair. Her eyes looked at Bunsa and the household as if she couldn't right away recognize them. "Outliving them, Outliving them all, - ah, the cold!" 
     Whether Bunsa was the one to bring cholera to Shinano-machi or not, nobody could tell. The fact was, he returned from a trip with a fever. It got worse in the night. The vomiting and bloody diarrhea quickly stole his strength and left him limp and lifeless. Nothing that Moriko or the village doctor did helped him. This was a new kind of sickness, that nobody in the countryside experienced. Soon, half of the Shinano-machi's population was horribly ill. Moriko stopped going to the forest; day and night she stayed by Bunsa's bed, wiping the bitter sweat off his brow, bringing him water and washing him. She changed sheets often, but very soon they were soiled again. Bunsa laid on the bed, but his restless, tortured spirit roamed the rooms and the decimated village. In his fevered mind, he felt Moriko's cool hand on his forehead and blessed her name, but, sometimes, it seemed to him: the fox was looking at him from the bedside! The little fox, that he met on the way to Shinano-machi! It was then that the first suspicions took root in his brain. Surely, it was Moriko, softly cajoling him to take a sip of water! But the next thing he saw, were the black tips of the fox's ears and its tail, as it turned away from him. 
     Moriko was at her wits' end. She went into the woods and brought back the bark of 'yanagi' - the willow tree. She boiled it and forced Bunsa to swallow the desperately bitter liquid. His fever went down, but he was still lost in his imaginings. Once, there was a quiet knock on the door and a greeting: "Konnichiwa, konbangwa!" The old man came to Shinano-machi, to offer his aid to the dying people. Moriko was never more glad to see anyone else! Together they tended to Bunsa and to some of their neighbors. The use of the willow bark and the old man's suggestion that they should gather all the sick in one place and burn the dead and their houses and belongings, made a huge difference. Slowly the village revived. People helped each other to rebuild and continue with the business of life.

To be continued...

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MORIKO - repost

MORIKO

Moriko

     Some miles still lay between him and his future bride's home. Bunsa didn't mind the walking, or the blisters on his feet, or the wind and the sun taking their toll on his body. In fact, the hardship of a long trip was like a salve for the pain in his heart. The green shades of the forest soothed him and the shapes of the trees and the mountain spoke to his mind, offering new ideas for his craft.
     These were the last days when he was his own master, going where he wanted and enjoying his freedom. He did not only ask the matchmaker to find him a wife. The luck has deserted his own family and clan. War, sickness, drought and the business loss have decimated the hope that he and his relatives had for the future. Perhaps, the reprieve was close at hand, but Bunsa couldn't wait for it any longer. Betting on his reputation of a renown carpenter, he proposed not only marriage into the Toyoda clan; he also asked to take their last name. It was a drastic step, but he had to do something to change his fortune! 

     Before Bunsa arrived in Shinano-machi, he stopped by the lake to wash off the dirt and the doubt. He changed into clean clothes. The cool waters' embrace steadied him. Looking at the expanse of choppy gray waters he remembered the haiku poet's words: "facing the cool breeze straight on... a lake."

     "I also must face whatever comes, straight on!" - he thought.
    
      He was well received. The Toyodas were also carpenters and they were overjoyed to have a master of his caliber join their family. He didn't see the girl, Moriko, whom he was supposed to marry, until much later.
     One by one the families from the village came in and bowed, introducing themselves to the groom. The men sat in dignified silence, until enough sake passed their lips. Then the good-natured  ribbing would begin. The women disappeared in the depths of the house after taking a few furtive looks at the stranger, who very soon will become their neighbor. At dinner time, the bride was led out into the parlor. She was scrubbed and dressed and groomed, but all that Bunsa, who was drunk by now, could see of her, was a blurry female form in a gray-orange kimono and a tip of her nose behind the voluminous headdress. This continued for a few days before the wedding. Suffice it to say, on the morning after his marriage ceremony, Bunsa woke up with a sore head, next to a stranger, wondering, what happened the night before. Now he could see her pretty, fresh face, relaxed in sleep. She was a young girl, a little bit on the skinny side, with a pointed chin and a high nose.
     Moriko's dark eyelashes stirred. She smiled, as if feeling the comfort and warmth of the bed, and her slanted eyes slowly opened. For a few seconds she looked at Bunsa, her lips slightly apart, like she didn't quite know, why he was there. Then she sat up, holding the blanket to her chest. She smiled un-selfconsciously. The mane of hair framed her face and white shoulders. Bunsa's hand on its own accord, went to tuck an ebony tress behind Moriko's ear. Moriko's smile deepened. Trusting and tender, she put her cheek into his callused palm. The feeling of relief swept through Bunsa: he came home.

                   ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

 When I started this story, I thought, it will be about my husband's family in Japan. Since its so hard to get the facts from the land of the rising sun, I decided to write a fiction. So, its based a little on my hubby's family, but they would, probably, be upset, if they thought that I am writing THIS about them. Its a fiction. OK?
                     .................................................................

Moriko

     After spending a week with Moriko, Bunsa couldn't imagine living any other way. She was the reason he woke up in the morning and went about his day, and she was the reason why he almost ran back home in the evening. Moriko's parents gave the newlyweds a little cottage at the edge of their property. The forest came right to the backdoor there. Moriko claimed a few yards of the land for a small garden, but, more often than not, she'd go into the woods and bring back some mushrooms, herbs and tubers for their meals. Bunsa never saw most of those plants in his life. Nagano was the landlocked prefecture; the people there didn't have the benefit of fishing for their food in the sea. The results of Moriko's foraging were the most nutritious part of their diet. Apart from being the lucky husband, who would've quickly began to get a nice belly if he didn't work so hard, Bunsa felt deep joy when he stepped into his house or even just thought of his wife. When he came home in the afternoons, she was always gardening or walking in the forest or sitting in the sweet smelling grass by the trees. He would join her there, and spend time together, gazing into the dizzying blue skies, holding her, until the thoughts of the daily life would intrude on their bliss.
     When the time came for Bunsa to go to another village for a carpeting job, Moriko was inconsolable. Overnight her face became swollen with tears. She grieved so much, that Bunsa couldn't resist her pleas anymore: he agreed to take her with him. It was a few hours' walk away from Shinano-machi, but they spent some time running in the trees and just taking in the lush splendor of a forest around them. Later, Bunsa would think of those few hours as the happiest in his whole life! Moriko seemed to become more alive among the green. Like a new leaf, she unfurled and delighted Bunsa with her own beauty and liveliness. She found some things for them to eat for lunch, and they cuddled in a small clearing. Bunsa knew form her parents that they adopted Moriko, but here, in woods filled with the birdsong, she told him the whole story. One day, her folks found an infant girl behind that same cottage, where Bunsa and Moriko lived now. She lay, naked as a jay, in the grass amid the trees and screamed her little head off! They never found out, whose baby she was. Some people said, they saw a young pregnant woman wandering in those parts, some claimed that they espied a whole band of strangers, but Moriko's father and mother knew, it was a blessing from the gods: for many years they couldn't have their own children. This didn't make Bunsa doubt his young bride, but he appreciated the wonder and the mystery of her even better than before. "Mori" means forest in Japanese, "ko" - a child of. It was an unusual name, but he understood now, why Moriko's parents were compelled to give it to her.

To be continued...

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OCCUPY! - FROM SYLVIE-THE-CAT'S POINT OF VIEW. - repost

MONDAY, DECEMBER 2, 2013

"Occupy!" "Occupy!"
"O-O-O-C-C-U-U-U-P-Y-Y-Y!"
     The movement Occupy Dina has gathered momentum slowly. First there was a lot of sitting by and staring at the crack of the door from where she would emerge. Then - subtle but repetitive mewing and attempts to hypnotize her by looking her straight in the eyes and having my own eyes slowly dilate and decrease in size. When she still didn't respond in a satisfactory manner, it became necessary to deploy some extra persuasive methods. 
     As soon as she sat down by that thing that annoys me so, because Dina spends most of her time staring and petting it's bumpy surface instead of me, I jumped by the side of her and snuggled close. Unthinking, she  put her arm around me and began to quietly scratch my neck. For a few minutes I gave in to the wonderful sensations that her actions elicited in me. Then my superior intellect and will power triumphed over the soft heart and I began the next stage of the "Occupy!" process.
     Stealthily, I climbed into her arms. She murmured something and held me securely while still petting the sides of my face and neck. I could feel that her wrist, where I was leaning, hurt, so I purred and sent some of my healing energy to that spot on her arm.
Next I sprawled across her body, so that she could not see the glowing face of that thing that        she was playing with. One of her paws pushed the bumps with strange pictures on them for a while, but I took care of it by stretching my paw and putting it softly over her busy one. She responded just as I thought that she would: by cupping my head in that hand and scratching the top of it with one of those funny long toes that the humans have on their  arms. I reveled in my victory and let myself be lost in the pleasure of her caresses.
     My enemy, the male cat who would not join me in this operation, sat by the side of her and eyed me through slitted, jealous eyes.
     What happened?! I closed my eyes for just a couple of minutes, and everything changed. Not that Dina, my charge, dared to move for the fear of disturbing me! But the boy, the plague on my existence, silently managed to approach us and was now talking to her, making her pause in ministrations to me, making her shift her attention to his unworthy self! I saw his long paws reach down to pluck me from my own, my conquered place. In vain, I hissed and growled: he was too strong to resist. I pleaded with Dina with my eyes, but the boy carried me off. Fortunately, I managed to wiggle out of his tight squeeze and, sans any dignity, plopped on the floor.The humans continued to chatter and screech in their silly voices. They didn't notice as I ran behind the couch where Dina sat. Jumping up can be tricky for me since my comfortable life made me fatter, so when I leapt on the top of the couch, it was not a very graceful performance, but my prey hardly noticed it. She looked at me and I looked at her. 

"Occupy!" "Occupy!" 
"O-O-O-C-CU-U-U-P-Y-Y-Y!"

MORIKO - repost

Are you lonesome for some good story? A few months ago I wrote one about the events that could've happened in the Japanese side of my family. I called it

Moriko

 Bunsa saw the movement from the corner of his eye. Although there was nothing in these woods to harm him, an occasional highwayman could catch an unaware traveler. The forest was quiet and cool, and the sun beat on the path where Bunsa walked. He was not usually given to fancy imagining, but it seemed to him, that path was like his future: sometimes clear and sunny, sometimes disappearing around the shadowy bend of the mountain.
      Here it was again! Bunsa turned quickly and just managed to see a small fox lightly running among the trees. It was more gray than orange, the tail with it's white tip held cheerfully straight out. As pragmatic as Bunsa was, "Kitsune", as the fox is called in Japan, was too strong of an omen to ignore, especially, taking into consideration the task for which Bunsa traveled to Nagano. A bride was waiting for him there, and the foxes were rumored to have an ability to assist in the matters of love. Was it a good spirit? Did he mean to trick Bunsa, or to become a faithful companion? Bunsa walked off the road, sat in the shade behind an ancient tree, took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He untied the kerchief from around his neck. Folded in it was all the food that he had left: three rice balls. He called out into the forest: "Kitsune-san, kitsune-san, come and have a meal with me!" Nothing happened. Bonsa saw some movement in the greenery to one side. He broke a piece off a rice ball and threw it there. Judging by the rapid scramble in the bush, he understood that, the fox accepted his offering.  Bunsa thought of a poet Issa's verse: "peeking out from the willow tree... face of a fox". He threw some more food to it, then ate one rice ball himself. It was so pleasant to sit there, with the rough bark of the tree at his aching back. Eventually, he slid down and closed his eyes. 
     When he came to, the birds were picking what was left of his last rice ball. He sighed and got up. What was he thinking? A fox was not going to help with his problems! Before Bunsa went around the bend, he looked back: the fox was nosing around in the place where he slept. Then it sat up and watched Bunsa go. The fox's small open mouth and crafty, squinted eyes made it look like it was smiling.

To be continued...

My husband's ancestor,
Bunsa Toyoda, on whose
life I based (more like made up) this story

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HOT RADISH AND SICK MAMA.

     How was your Mother's Day? Did you give or receive? Did, what your loved ones offer you, make you happy? How happy?

     Sometimes, the gifts or the way they are offered leave a lot to be desired. I don't know, if others find themselves in that position, but, time to time, I feel, a gift (or a spirit in which it was made) is not, what I would consider adequate. I decide to keep my disappointment to myself usually. 
     When children were small, it was understandable: anything they did, especially, for the sake of their parents, was precious to us. Now I think, once they grew up a little, I might've overdid it a bit on expressing my gratitude for something, to which they, clearly, didn't give much thought. 
     The day before Mother's Day my husband and Sonny took us to a Japanese restaurant to eat. It was nice, I didn't have to cook, and I love Japanese food the most. We had a good time. Sonny and I were chatting happily, when he, suddenly, yelled: "Mommy, Roberta just ate wasabi!" 
     Did you ever have a chance to stick a bit of the super spicy Japanese wasabi in your mouth? It's almost unbearably hot! It can clean your sinuses in a jiffy, if you can tolerate it!               
     I asked, how much Roberta took. "Half of this!" - was the reply. "This" was about half the size of a tennis ball, and Roberta is a frail eighty two year old woman, who gets sick eating oatmeal! "I thought, it was avocado!" - she murmured weakly. 
     For the next fifteen minutes the three of us were milling around Roberta, like frightened chickens. She sat pale, doubled over, clutching a plastic bag, supplied by a waitress, in case, if she had to expel the stuff from her stomach. I was afraid, it (the stuff) would go the opposite route and suggested to Roberta to go to the ladies' room, but she didn't budge!
     I noticed, after coming home from the ER the day before: Roberta became more child like. She keeps asking me and needs help with, what she has to wear, do or think. On the other hand, she is more stubborn, than usual. In my experience working with the elderly, they can get a reaction to being in a hospital. Some gentle souls even became belligerent! So, I didn't contradict my poor friend, but tried to make her feel more relaxed.
     We made it to the car and home, and Roberta made it to her bathroom without an incident. She is still not herself, when it comes to being independent, and even more forgetful, than before. 
     Yesterday was Sunday. As I promised Taka, we went to the Unification Church' Sunday Service. There was a lot of hugging and wishes of the "Happy Mother's Day!" My Russian friend, Irina,  and her husband, Rafi, were there too. We talked for awhile after the Service. Roberta made rounds with her walker, going to meet the people, whom she knows. That was also different: she, usually, sits calmly and waits for them to come to her. I think, she feels more insecure, than usual.
     After we came home, Sonny took keys and went out on a "mysterious" errand. I knew, of course, that he was about to bring us some flowers for Mother's Day. For the last month Taka keeps talking to me about not consuming much sugar, so I was quite surprised, when Sonny returned with two boxes of chocolates! 
     I understand, it's my decision, what I put in my mouth. I'm afraid, I decided poorly this time. To my defense, I was lured into this situation. Roberta opened her box and I opened mine, and now there is little left in either of them!
     

BY THE GRACE OF GOD

     Gospodi, pomiluy!
                                       Lord, have mercy!
     I made peace with and am happy to acknowledge all the changes that took place in my relationship with Taka, my husband, although we have a long way to go yet. I am less depressed or prone to drama. All this progress I attribute to God's mercy. 
     At first, actually, I wanted to say: I attribute this progress to starting to write this blog and stories, which I always wanted to do, but didn't have the guts to try. I was also looking for a way to develop my character and understand the reasons for all the problems I have completing the tasks or living up to a standard, which I, myself, uphold. Working with my counselor, Mr. P. and learning just a bit from the Al Anon meetings helped me immeasurably. 
     Still, all of these reasons for my advance as a human being pale in comparison to one fundamental truth and reality: God's Mercy.
     And yet, I complain. My health is poor. I struggle with one thing after another to feel better, but, more often than not, manage to just keep my head above the water. "I can't live like that anymore!" Yet, I hear of people, born without arms and legs, who lead lives, full of gratitude and benefit to others. I hear of the people, who lose everything to disasters or wars. What right do I have to complain about small discomforts in my life?
     We are fortunate people! Not only Heavenly Father does grants us His Mercy, He also imbues us with the sense of hope and the ability to find the right perspective to life. The gifts we have: the Earth, the air, the beauty and goodness of the nature. They are given to us for free! How great it is to come outside after staying home with a sickness and take a breath of fresh air or feel strength in my legs after not being able to move freely! 
     By the Grace of God we exist. But Grace stays alive only if it can flow through us to others. Like a stream feeding a lake, it needs to find an outlet, or the body of water will turn into a rancid bog. 
     Let's bring God's Grace to those around us! Let us be the conduits, the vessels, through whom the humanity and the world can find the ability to live well in harmony, to breathe freely and build into a mighty stream of positive energy to enhance our corner of the Universe!