MUSIC: SIMPLE JOYS Part 2

My son and I bonded again today as we reminisced about our shared fondness for "My Favorite Things". Thank you Rodgers and Hammerstein for the "Sound of Music". Still cannot understand what gene pool gifted my son with a beautiful voice and an aptitude for piano playing. Seems unbelievable that he came from a parent whose alto try-out was such a disaster that it finally convinced the choir organist to abandon all efforts to change me from a passable (at least in my mind) soprano.

I am a frustrated singer. So gone are my dreams of setting the world on fire with my melodious voice. But I love music, even karaoke music (take that Simon).

These are some of my favorite songs:


There is no decent video of "My Favorite Things" from the Sound of Music but the "Lonely Goatherd" showcased the incomparable Julie Andrews and the puppets. It has now become my LSS (last song syndrome)





A mash-up of these two songs had been featured in the movie "50 Dates".
"Somewhere Over the Rainbow/What a Wonderful World" by Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwoʻole. It must have looked a little strange... a huge man with his ukelele, but it worked.






A sweet and poignant song. Perfect for a Daddy's girl and sure to be a tear-jerker in weddings.
"Sing Me a Song, Daddy" by Jose Mari Chan/ Cherie Gil





Watch how a future multi-awardee stage actress charmed the producers of Miss Saigon with her innocent ways and magnificent voice. Lea will soon be appearing in "Allegiance", an upcoming musical about Japanese-American interment during World War II.

Lea Salonga's audition for Miss Saigon, "Sun and Moon".









I thank my lucky stars that my son never got into rap and hip-hop like the teens of today, although I've been known to break into an apl.d ap (of Black Eyed Peas) song called "Bebot." Go figure. Don't get me wrong; I still don't approve of the the gyrations of the skimpy-clad girls but I love the colorful jeepneys and the display of Filipino pride.

A Prude Newbie's Sauna Experience

"Don't worry, nobody will be staring at you. Everybody minds their own business.", Lynn's friends assured her.

She received a holiday gift card from her fellow nurses for a whole-day stay in a Korean sauna in College Point, New York. A day of pampering. The brochure promised a day of relaxation and rejuvenation. The nurses gushed about the soothing experience of a hot sauna, full body scrub, and massage and brushed away her questions about showing some skin. They cited the health benefits of saunas: improving microcirculation, and reducing vasoconstriction and hypertension.

In European and other Asian cultures, saunas were regarded as an important part of daily life. A high-end spa website offered "an ideal environment for a rejuvenating spa vacation for both the body and spirit and for rediscovering the peace there is to be found in silence." So before Lynn went to her spa treat, she envisioned a totally relaxing encounter. Peace and quiet, no assault to the senses, just the soothing and deserved pampering.



The Korean spa is not frequented by celebrities but still is an impressive, state-of-the-art facility with high ratings from its customers. Lynn was met with valet parking and friendly receptionists who handed her a tacky but cute peach-and-yellow top and shorts ensemble. A high-tech wrist bracelet for the locker and for additional purchases in the restaurant and other services reminded Lynn of the wrist bracelets that her hospital uses to keep the wandering patients from absconding.

Lynn was directed to a row of lockers just off the reception desk. The receptionist handed her two small hand towels, not the beach towels that can cover just about everything. The towels were about 18 inches by 24 inches, not meant to be cover-ups, but more to pat yourself dry. Modesty be damned. Huh??? Just a portent of things to come. Not a place for the shy.

As she was standing by the lockers, some Korean girls claimed the locker nearby, and without even any sign of self-consciousness, proceeded to take everything off. Butt-naked and not bothering with any covers, they sauntered off to the pools.

Lynn was not easily intimidated, but the idea of walking through the open hall without a stitch on is something she never thought she would ever, ever do even though this is a female-only place. The place was huge. Immediately to her right were the stand-alone showers. A few steps away were the heated swimming pool.

Lynn had erroneously thought that there would be private jacuzzis and massage areas where she would only drop the towels just as she quickly jumped into the pool or climbed onto a massage bed. Lo and behold, three Russian ladies in their 70s passed by, nonchalantly going on with business, and made Lynn realize that she was the only one with a "deer-in-the-headlight" look. Everyone around her was oblivious to all the nudity. Forget the neon lights, her stilted walk and her firm grasp on the hand towels to cover strategic areas might as well have labeled her as a Newbie.

This is a place where inhibitions are forgotten, and where average women can enjoy the benefits of the sauna, to reclaim the right to shine alongside the skinny models of today. Unlike the young, her body had succumbed to gravity. Lynn tried to psyche herself to the inevitable unveiling, "Isn't this what we want all along, that society accepts women of all sizes, warts and all, and in my case, bulges and all? A place where Reubenesque figures hold court, where there's no shame in imperfections, and where there's freedom from the constraints of society's idea of perfection. Should be liberating, right?"

But first, she needed to work on liberating her personal hang-ups and inhibitions. Born and bred in an ultra-conservative family in the Philippines where showing cleavages were frowned upon, this sauna experience is a test of how liberated she had become. Growing up, women with "Walang K" (loosely translated as "no right to flaunt") received scathing glances and sometimes disrespectful catcalls. Problem is, Lynn's Prude gene was very dominant still, even though she had spent her summers in water parks like Splish-Splash where people paraded around with skimpy clothing that paid homage to misplaced and more-than-generous curves. She stayed away from form-hugging clothes and plunging necklines.

Lynn mustered the strength to shower alongside the women, mindful of prison etiquette. She darted quickly to the pool, dropping the towel to the side only as she dipped into the heated jacuzzi. The pounding jet of water calmed her pounding heartbeat; distracted her from the shame, and eventually, relaxation took hold. Bliss on earth. It was like that stress-reducer Calgon TV commercial from a long time ago, "Calgon, take me away". Her muscles loosened, and she thought, "If other women are enjoying their sauna experience, despite their less-than-perfect bodies, who says I should be cringing every time something jiggles?"

Feeling more courageous and adventurous, Lynn ventured over to the full-body massage section. She expected private rooms but instead, the huge room featured several slabs of concrete. Exfoliation comes courtesy of stone-faced middle-aged Korean women attired in two-piece bikinis with loofahs which they wielded with professional insouciance. Not knowing what to expect, Lynn meekly lay prone on the concrete slab, closing her eyes in shame, to close off the visual of naked women in slabs just like meat in a slaughterhouse. The worker expertly massaged her tight muscles on the neck, back, and all over and all her aches and pains went away. Lynn sighed with pleasure, "Ahhh, Heaven."

Then the masseuse started to do chiropractor work: stretching, pulling, snapping, and cracking. Lynn panicked. The image of EMS crews responding to her 911 call of a fractured back came to mind. Would they recognize her as the triage nurse who gave them hell every time they turned in an incomplete ambulance crew report? OMG, would they just run her off to her hospital as a Trauma Team? Would the ER people recover from the initial shock and then take turns to offer Foley catheters? Arggghhhh!!!! Lynn was traumatized by the specter of embarrassment.

Freaked out by the experience, Lynn decided to abandon her plans for a facial. She might be that unlucky one trapped underneath a mud masque or held hostage by the one-hour seaweed treatment while her grumbling stomach threatens with diarrhea. She did not want to push her luck.

Lynn survived. No cracked spine, no embarrassing trip to the ED. She half-wished that the spa would sell those "I survived" t-shirts. She spent a few minutes deep breathing to recover. To her surprise, her joints felt loose and her muscles tingled with appreciation. Her body sizzled with energy as if the masseuse had released the demons of sluggish inactivity and awakened heretofore forgotten cells. Her muscles felt like 25 years old. Thanks to the exfoliation, all the dead skin cells were washed away with warm water. She was a new woman, with reddened but baby soft skin.

The next hour was spent enjoying the hot and cold sauna, especially the clay room with a sea of clay balls. With the awkwardness gone, Lynn felt sophisticated and a woman-of-the-world as she imagined her body responding with improved micro-circulation. Those healthy anti-oxidants were enjoying a free rein inside her body. She was alone inside the sauna, and there was peace in silence.

Lunch on the second floor

Energized and now dressed with the peach and yellow garb, Lynn downed a few California rolls and a refreshing strawberry smoothie. The restaurant food was pricey but tasty.  Tucked in one of the comfortable chaise lounges just off the restaurant, she spent the next hour enjoying Dean Koontz's latest book. Lynn thought, "What a life! So this is how pampering feels."

Except for the initial awkwardness and the momentary terror with the pseudo-chiropractor, she enjoyed the experience. Exhilarating in its uncomfortability. It was humbling in the sense that it exposed her vulnerabilities. It was also a triumphant adventure because she learned to operate outside her comfort zone, accomplishing the unimaginable. Yay! She had shed her inhibitions... and much more. She had successfully accomplished her objective to push her boundaries. She's a new sophisticate. No longer a prude. Buoyed by the experience, she was ready to take on the world.

At the end, Lynn learned that the third floor is unisex, and of course, no nudity. All that agita for nothing. Hah.

The Changing Seasons- Part Two

For Part 1 and 2




Spring 2010

"I guess we should discuss joint custody arrangements."

Jack had suggested this to Bel last winter. At the cemetery, Jack was stunned but relieved to be reunited with his dog Max after a month-long search for the mixed breed beagle-dachshund. How the dog ended at the cemetery where his wife was buried remained a mystery to both Jack and Bel.

Bel's husband Mike had died from bone cancer three years ago, and she was a regular visitor to the cemetery. That was where she found the dog she named Brownie last Fall.

The seasons had changed. Now, Spring had come.

Bel had felt energized with the changing season. Truth be told, she felt buoyant after two seasons spent with Brownie. Last Fall, the dog had saved her from an almost certain descent into a bottomless pit of despair and hopelessness. She had finally let go of the cloud of grief that surrounded her with Mike's passing. Then in December, in the cold of winter, Jack came and was reunited with Max.

Jack. The man surprised her with his willingness to share his Max with a total stranger. Bel did not know why she readily agreed to the arrangement; perhaps it was because she just welcomed anything that will allow Brownie to stay in her life. Besides, Jack looked trustworthy and friendly.

The joint custody meant two weeks of Brownie every month. Jack explained that he occasionally had to travel out of state and the arrangement would mean that he did not have to drop Max at the kennel. It also meant that she saw Jack every two weeks when they meet at the cemetery to drop/pick-up Brownie/Max.

Jack and Bel had shared the stories of their respective spouses' passing. Barbara died from a motor vehicular crash two years ago. At 30 years old, she was at the prime of her life. Jack admitted that the experience shook him to deep depths of anguish, but he had held onto to his sanity by spending his time with Max. Barbara's dog had given Jack a much-needed focus to continue on living.

Jack thought he lost Max forever, when he got home one Fall day and didn't hear the familiar welcoming barks. He related to Bel his frantic search for the dog but that he did not imagine finding him miles and miles away from home.

"I am overjoyed to find Max here in the cemetery. " With twinkling eyes, he continued to tease Bel, "Little did I know that I would find him romping around in the snow with the snow angel."

Embarrassed at being caught indulging in a rare display of carefree abandon, Bel stammered an excuse. She did not realize that she presented a pretty picture with her red nose and her hair covered with fluffy snow.

Bel sent the dog home with Jack after their exchange of information. She felt grateful to Jack for his sensitivity but understood that it was Jack's turn to enjoy Max's company.

After just three days of quiet at home, Bel was becoming more restless. She found herself at a nearby dog park which she discovered shortly after finding Brownie. It had been a favorite for both of them because dogs were allowed to run around leash-free in the park.

Bel had been sitting on the park bench for awhile when from out of nowhere Brownie/Max sprinted straight up to her, with his long golden brown floppy ears and wagging tail. Although the dog had responded to both names, in Bel's mind, he would always be Brownie to her. Jack was equally surprised at their chance encounter. He had passed the dog park right after their last visit at the cemetery. Max had barked continuously to get his attention until he was forced to stop at the side of the road and then discovered the dog park. They had frequented the dog park ever since.

Bel and Jack watched in silence as Brownie/Max interacted with the other dogs. Bel and Jack watched with shared pride as the mixed Beagle-dachshund quickly established himself as a leader among dogs much bigger than him.

That began their weekly meet at the dog park. Over time, the desultory conversations gave way to an easy companionship. The wariness had lifted and in its place came friendship.

One day, Brownie/Max decided for whatever reason to abandon play time with the other dogs. He stationed himself between his two masters as they sat on the bench. Bel automatically reached over to pet the dog, at exactly the same time Jack did. It was just an innocent contact, but Bel was shocked at the intensity of emotions that washed over her. Confused on why she felt like a hormonal schoolgirl, Bel laughed to cover her confusion and to bide time to regain her composure. Brownie/Max, oblivious of the undercurrents, demanded attention by running to a corner to relieve himself.

One week later, Max traveled out of state on business; he worked as a business consultant for a major engineering company. Three days later, Bel received a call from Jack. Her heart did a funny turn when she heard Jack's voice. As always, the talk centered on the many antics of Max. Then Jack cleared his voice and said, "I miss Max." After a short pause, he continued, "I miss you too."

The unexpected declaration flustered Bel; she thought she heard it distinctly but convinced herself that she just misheard. Not knowing how to respond, she pretended that she did not hear the loaded sentence and quickly changed the subject. They made plans to meet in the cemetery.

Bel felt uncertain about her growing feelings for Jack and thought that her attachment to Brownie opened her vulnerability to the attentions of a handsome man. At this point in her life and having just surfaced from the deep sadness brought by Mike's passing, she did not want any complications. She did not want to explore a future beyond just living for the moment. She acknowledged that her loyalty to Mike's memories had chained her to a solitary life, but did not want to change the status quo. "Not yet. I'm not ready.", she told herself.


Two days later, Bel stood in front of Mike's grave. The Spring air smelled clean with the freshly-mown lawn. Signs of new life brightened the cemetery; new budding leaves reasserted themselves from the trees. Bel bent down to touch the purple crocuses that had sprouted from the ground. There was still left-over snow on that patch of ground but the bulbs that she had planted a month ago rose in defiance and provided a bright contrast against the whiteness of the snow.

Yes, Spring had come... a time of growth, of new beginnings.

Brownie barked behind her. Bel turned and faced a smiling Jack. Man and woman against the backdrop of their respective spouses' graves. The sun shone brightly and somewhere a robin chirped. The scene evoked a sense of rightness; as if the changing season brought blessings of renewal and regrowth. The snow had melted. One look at Jack and the promise in his eyes melted the frost in Bel's heart.

"Bel, I meant what I said on the phone. I missed you."

Jack reached out and held Bel's hands. Brownie rushed Bel from behind and made her fall forward, straight into Jack's arms. Where it was warm and safe. Where there was the promise of love.

Summer 2010.

Bel and Jack stood in front of their former spouses' graves. The couple paid their respects the day after their wedding. They were headed to the mountains of North Carolina in a cabin in the woods to celebrate their new lease on life. With their best man, the dog.

Life had grown full circle; the seasons had changed. From profound sadness to grateful appreciation of love's healing touch.



The summer breeze brought the fulfillment of the promise made in spring. A riot of honeysuckles, lupins, dahlias, and asters competed for attention under the aspen tree in a picture-perfect summer scene. The sun dazzled as it bathed the cemetery in its warm embrace. Even the lowly dandelions flourished and stood tall while butterflies flitted happily around the grave markers; unlikely and incongruous at best, but somehow, the blissful view reaffirmed the hope for second chances.

Love found its way, in an unexpected place, surprising the reluctant lovers brought together by a dog. That same dog strutted around the grave in his customized tuxedo from yesterday's wedding ceremony. Brownie/Max had eluded the newly-weds' attempt to divest him of his favorite suit. The dog had looked mighty impressive for a canine with his newly-groomed and silky brown fur. And now, it looked as if he was enjoying his upgraded status to Best Dog. He was basking with a sense of self-importance.

Somehow sensing the solemnity of the moment, the dog stopped pacing and faced the couple who had bowed their heads in silent commune with their departed loved ones. Their love is in full bloom, and they wanted to share their happiness with Mike and Barbara. Bel and Jack held hands, each one promising each other's departed to nurture the love that was cut short by tragedy. There was no sadness, because there was the joyous realization that their union was blessed.

In true fashion, Brownie/Max broke the reverie and claimed his masters' attention by licking the couples' joined hands. His eyes were bright, his tail thumped happily, and then he smiled.

The End




PART 1-
http://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/search/label/change%20of%20seasons



"How did you know
I needed someone like you in my life
That there's an empty space in my heart
You came at the right time in my life"

PS. Our own Brownie had been a delight and a treasure since he came into our lives, but now, we mourn his passing. We miss him so much. 9/8/2012

Sleigh Ride

According to Wikipedia...
"Sleigh Ride" is a popular light orchestral piece composed by Leroy Anderson. The composer had the original idea for the piece during a heat wave in July 1946; he finished the work in February 1948.

Although "Sleigh Ride" is often associated with Christmas, and often appears on Christmas compilation albums, the song's lyrics never specifically mention any holiday or religion except certain "Sleigh Ride" versions (the Carpenters and Air Supply being examples). In fact, the mention of pumpkin pie in the last verse might suggest an association with Thanksgiving rather than Christmas.


My favorite holiday song is the instrumental version as arranged by the great Leroy Anderson. It is such a delight to finally have a visual of what produced all the beautiful sounds. To my non-musician ears, the perfect orchestration of violins, bells, cellos, trombones, trumpets, xylophones, and a "clapper" is a whimsical display of Anderson's musical genius. The horse whinny near the end came from a trumpet called glissando; which never fails to bring a smile to my face.

The uplifting and energizing musical interlude is a perfect accompaniment during a cold weekday morning drive to work. Something shifts in the air as the music ushers a season meant to bring cheers and fun. Whether you celebrate the holidays or not, one cannot help being buoyed by the excitement that songs like "Sleigh Ride" bring.

The giddy, happy feeling that the song conveys, even if just for the duration of the song, is certainly welcome during these trying times. Finger-tapping good. The kind that makes you wish you can conduct the orchestra yourself.

In 2011, Sleigh Ride was voted the most popular holiday song.

The charming lyrics by Mitchell Parish paint a great picture of a sleigh ride over snow-covered roads a la Currier and Ives. Although I'm a fan of the versions by the Carpenters and Johnny Mathis, the instrumental version is the quintessential feel-good holiday song for me.

On Not Feeling Guilty About Guilty Pleasures: Korean Telenovelas, Harry Potter, Books, Old-time Crooners, Norman Rockwell, Food

If something gives me pleasure, why should I feel guilty?

According to Wikipedia (another guilty pleasure), a guilty pleasure is "something one enjoys and considers pleasurable despite feeling guilt for enjoying it". The "guilt" involved is sometimes simply fear of others discovering one's lowbrow or otherwise embarrassing tastes.

Excuse me, but I don't consider my tastes "low-brow"; it's just that others do not have the same good taste that I have. Really, no accounting for taste. (Picture me clicking my fingers with an attitude.)

Young ones mistakenly think that they need to conform to be cool. But in my maturity and wisdom, I can finally claim my God-given right to state my own opinions and proclaim them to the whole wide world without fear of repercussions, without any embarrassment, or a dip in my social standing... what the heck, I deserve my guilty pleasures.

So, dear readers, these are my favorite things:


1. Korean Telenovelas-


Watching Korean dramas till dawn (even though I had school papers to write early this year) and reliving lost youth with sweet romances and naivete, albeit with subtitles.

For full measure, I even had the audio turned up just to hear their voices. "Saranghae" (I love you) sounds more romantic in Korean. Lee Min Ho, Lee Dong Wook, Jo Hyun Jae... all gorgeous and, unfortunately, too young. ( Ah, to be 18 again).
NOT GUILTY!



2. Harry Potter-

I am a Muggle and I'm proud of it. Magic and sorcery are woven with masterful and imaginative brushstrokes by welfare mom-turned-cultural icon J.K. Rowling. More bonding through reading, I shared Harry, Ron, and Hermione with my son through seven books, most of which I devoured one night way ahead of my son... just to explain the eye bags the day after.
NOT GUILTY!



3. Books- check out my design template

By my modest approximation (and a big dent to my finances), I have close to a thousand books in my home, half of which are unfortunately packed in boxes waiting for that time when I have a bigger house.

My future library will have wall-to-wall shelves that will be bulging with my classics collection- some Agatha Christie and Jane Austen novels, and certainly none of that brain-numbing-torture-from-highschool Shakespeare nor Tolstoy for me.

My eclectic collection will display my fascination with numerous authors, especially Angelou, Keillor, Koontz, Sparks, Roberts, Baldacci, Meyer, Higgins Clark, Grisham, Cornwell, Albom, Sheldon, and that queen of humor, Bombeck.

It all started at age 16 with extreme addiction to Mills and Boon romances with their British maidens and dashing foreign-born heroes; I flashback to those nights spent under covers with a flashlight just so as not to disturb my mom.

No Kindle for me. Why spoil the pleasure of smelling the books and of putting dog ears on the pages (to the utmost consternation of my son, who hates putting dog ears on books)?
NOT GUILTY!

Addendum: 6/12/14. Argh! I have succumbed to the temptation of convenience. Finally got a Kindle and loaded up on books since I have no time to go to bookstores anymore. On rare occasions, I have managed to sneak to the neighborhood CVS stores to buy books that I can smell and dog-ear.



4. Old-time crooners
Perry Como, Matt Monroe, and Andy Williams were respected vocalists of eras gone by when the singing was seemingly effortless and their intonations impeccable. When the crooners looked debonair and suave in suits, or in Williams' case, sweaters. No low-waist pants with crotches on their knees worn by hip-hop artists of today (shudders). For the record... these gentlemen were actually before my time.

Listen to Perry Como's "And I Love You So". Close your eyes and let the melodious voice envelop you like a warm embrace. Sigh.
NOT GUILTY!







5. Norman Rockwell

One of my prized possessions was a gift of an oversized Norman Rockwell book from a friend (Thanks, Fe-pot). According to filmmaker Steven Spielberg, “Rockwell painted the American dream — better than anyone.”

My mouth watered at the glorious illustrations of Americana. His vivid portraits of everyday life graced the covers of The Saturday Evening Post. I had dreamed of following in his footsteps, until my rude awakening that I can't draw bodies, only faces.
NOT GUILTY!



6. Food- "I see food, I eat"

Can't get the Thai Crunch salad from California Pizza Kitchen out of my mind: Interesting flavors with fried wonton strips, fried rice strips, avocado, cabbage, carrots, scallions, cucumber, cilantro, edamame, and peanuts with lime-cilantro and Thai peanut dressing.

Yummy!!! Never mind that this salad staggers with 1460 calories!!!
NOT GUILTY!


I'm not guilty!!!!! I'm pleased. :)


PART 2- http://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/2012/12/guilty-pleasures-part-2.html

PART 3- https://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/2019/07/guilty-pleasures-part-3-audio-books.html

The Changing Seasons (a short [dog] story)

Dedicated to BROWNIE.

She felt the first cold lick and thought she was dreaming. Bel woke with a start and saw a pair of big, brown eyes looking back at her. Brown fur glistened in the sun as woman and dog studied each other. He looked like a beagle but had that long body and short legs of a dachshund.

"Hey, doggie, where did you come from?"

Bel looked around the lawn cemetery for the dog's owner. There was no other living human in sight. The green lawn was dotted with bronze and granite headstones but there was no other car in the sections around her. Maybe he's the caretaker's dog.

Bel was a regular visitor to the cemetery ever since her husband Mike died after a long, drawn-out battle with bone cancer. Towards the end of his life, Mike tried to prepare Bel by pushing her back to the social scene and getting her to promise that she would go on with her life.

That was 3 years ago, and Bel was still mourning. Her sadness was so profound that she just went with the motions of living to allay her parents' worries; still able to do her job as a nurse in the local hospital, but the joy had disappeared in her life.

On Saturday mornings, she had tried to schedule shopping and other errands but always found herself driving the 15 minutes to the cemetery. She usually spent one hour at Mike's gravesite, with her portable chair and the latest book by her favorite authors. When Mike was still living, they spent Saturday mornings just lounging in the den with their respective books. Mike's grave was lovingly tended with impatiens and chrysanthemums planted on the headstone base.

The dog claimed her attention when he rubbed against her hand. The dog immediately nuzzled against her knee, then offered his belly for the obligatory rub.

Bel studied the dog again. His lips were curved as if in a smile and his eyes appeared to twinkle as if he found her stare amusing.

"What's your name? Who's your owner?" Not really expecting an answer, Bel was surprised when the dog padded over to the next grave and sat in front of the marker of a woman named Barbara. Bel often wondered about Barbara's visitor. They've never met but there were always fresh roses on the grave. Glancing at the marker, Bel realized that Barbara was only thirty years old when she died.

The dog barked softly and started walking away from the graves. Thinking that he was finding his way back to the caretaker's office, Bel waved goodbye to the dog and then turned to say her own goodbye to Mike.

Another bark made her turn around. The dog seemed to be waiting for her. As she walked toward him, the dog started to wag his tail happily. As Bel bent down to scratch the dog's ears, he just leaped into her arms and started licking her face.

It was a gray, dreary, and chilly late October morning when she arrived at 10 o'clock in the morning. In just one hour, it had become much warmer, and the bright sun reigned bright in the cloudless sky. Bel breathed in the crisp air as she stood on an almost postcard-perfect autumn day.



Although the grave markers around her should have created an eerie and incongruous sight against a backdrop of red and gold leaves from the maple and dogwood trees, they had somehow created an ethereal but peaceful display of life's reality. Death surrounded her but the beauty of living still manifested itself in the vibrant colors of the fall foliage. The changing seasons reaffirmed life in sadness; after the fall comes winter, spring, summer, then fall again. Life goes on.

The panorama before her brought a sense of peace and happiness. The beauty of the autumn colors transformed her. Just as these feelings washed over Bel, she felt her depression lifting away as the tears flowed freely down her cheeks. The tears were not of sadness but allowed her the catharsis for the grief that had trapped her for three years. As she looked into the dog's eyes, she remembered Mike's insistence for her to find new love. She had nodded her agreement to placate her dying husband, but in her heart, she felt her emotions draining from her heart. She had thought then, "How can I love another man when I have given you all my love?"

The dog snuggled closer to Bel. As she felt the dog's warm fur tickling her nose, Bel started to giggle uncontrollably. The unfamiliar sound of laughter bubbled out of her until she fell back on the green grass. The dog ran around in circles, his tail wagging in sync with Bel's laughter. She had not felt as light-hearted and as carefree for many years now.

Bel crouched in front of Mike's marker. Mike had always been the optimist, and he would not have approved of the cloak of sadness that Bel had wrapped herself after his death. At that moment, she realized that she needed to move on. She had finally freed herself. She realized that there was no guilt in finding joy in unexpected places.

In the caretaker's office, the receptionists did not know to who the dog belonged to. Bel was the first visitor to the cemetery that day, and the residential and business areas were much farther away. When Bel suggested that she wanted to leave the dog in the office just in case the owner came back, both ladies reluctantly refused because they were leaving for a party after their shift.

Bel was forced to keep the dog with her but left a brief note in the caretaker's office. She didn't write a description of the dog, just her office number.

In the car, the dog dutifully sat on the front passenger side. Driving back to her house, Bel kept a running commentary of the stores they passed. The dog did not bark throughout the ride but looked at her with the same strange expression that she could only interpret as a smile.

"Doggie, you need a name. Just can't keep you calling Doggie until your owner shows up. How about... uhmm... Brownie?" Bel chuckled at the unimaginative name.

Brownie showed his approval by barking twice and moving his head up and down.

The days passed without any word from Brownie's owner. Bel had been in telephone contact with the receptionists from the cemetery office. There were no inquiries about a lost dog. Bel even left a note in the local ASPCA.

Brownie settled happily into their routine. During her workdays, Bel dropped the dog at her parents' home for the day. Coming home had become the highlight of her day as Brownie welcomed her with unabashed joy. Ignoring the treats she had given him, Brownie's attention was focused on his "temporary" master regaling Bel with his frantic runs around the house. After drifting aimlessly through life over the past 3 years, Bel finally had someone who needed her. As the bond forged between her and Brownie, she dreaded finding the dog's owner.


Winter 2009

The new Bel had weaned herself from visiting the cemetery frequently. It was a month later that Bel visited Mike's grave with Brownie. It was only late November but the ground was covered in fresh snow. The bare trees and the snow icicles hanging from the branches created a magical scene straight out of a Currier and Ives winter scene.



Bel brushed the snow from Mike's marker, and somehow, ended up brushing the snow on the next grave, Barbara's. Her flowers from a month before were buried by 3 inches of snow. After a few minutes, Bel decided to leave but noticed that Brownie was circling around her as if he still wanted to play.

She slipped on the snow and fell on her back facing the bright blue sky. Brownie sat on her chest, with his now-familiar expectant face. His tail thumped heavily on her sides; clearly, he wanted to play. Feeling playful and unusually happy, Bel spread her arms on the fluffy, powdery snow and created her Snow Angel. Brownie jumped around her as Bel abandoned all inhibitions and relived her childhood memories.

Life is beautiful. No worries, no grief. Just happiness at finding hope again.

She dreamt that she was in the middle of a winter wonderland; her dog was frolicking on the snow as she continued to play Snow Angel. Bundled up in heavy winter clothes complete with scarf, gloves, and hat, Bel was completely comfortable. The disturbed snow flew around her and she stuck her tongue out to taste the snowflakes. Brownie resumed his position on her chest and watched Bel curiously. Then at the sound of an approaching car Brownie stirred and barked excitedly.

Mortified, Bel sat up suddenly. Her words of caution died on her lips when Brownie bolted straight into the arms of a man.

"Max, where have you been? I've been looking all over for you! I miss you."

Bel sat transfixed in her spot. Brownie is really Max? And his owner is here to claim my baby? Am I going to lose Brownie?

The man was tall, with a kind and handsome face. He stared curiously at Bel before he came to her and offered his hand.

"My name is Jack. The receptionists in the office told me that you found my dog. I never thought to look for him here because we live one town away." Jack hugged Brownie/Max, ruffling the dog's fur with undeniable affection.

When the wind picked up, Bel's beret fell off her head and her hair flew wildly around her face. Not normally self-conscious, Bel felt embarrassed at the picture she presented, with her red cheeks and nose and snow all over her. She tried to get up from her sitting position but kept on slipping down. She finally accepted a helping hand from the amused Jack.

Jack deposited his bouquet of flowers on Barbara's grave. "My wife. Max's original owner." Surprised, Bel looked at the dog, but he seemed more interested in chewing the fringes on her beret.

Bel relayed the story of finding "Brownie" and how the dog had changed her life. The question of how the dog ended up miles away from home and at Barbara's grave remained unanswered. Brownie (or Max) was happily ensconced in Jack's arms while Bel spoke. Her voice broke a little at the end. The dog moved over to Bel's lap; he must have sensed her growing agitation about their forthcoming separation.

Jack looked at Bel for a minute, then he smiled, "I guess we should discuss joint custody arrangements."



Part 2- 

http://jcerrudocreations.blogspot.com/search/label/changing%20season


PS. Our own Brownie had been a delight and a treasure since he came into our lives, but now, we mourn his passing. We miss him so much. 9/8/2012

Awesome!

Where have I been? I could have used a pick-me-up during one of those lousy mornings. I just discovered the Awesome blog (http://1000awesomethings.com/).

It is a countdown of 1000 awesome things, those simple joys that make you smile and say "awww". This feel-good blog was launched in 2008 and had spawned a best-selling book, "The Book of Awesome" and had garnered the Webby Award.

The writing is optimistic without being saccharine, a much-needed antidote for cynicism and a welcome reminder of the simple pleasures that we sometimes overlook or take for granted.

This post evoked several responses. This is my favorite.

"Seeing old people holding hands is a simple expression of long lasting affection that fills our hearts with hope. They show us a future world exists of tied-together hearts and long lives lived with someone we love.
AWESOME!"




This cover song of a John Lennon classic by Mary Chapin Carpenter is a fitting tribute to a lifetime of love.