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What have you Lost? What have you Found?


Lost & Found: Valentine’s Edition blog hop hosted by Guilie Castillo-Oriard, Alex J Cavanaugh, Denise Covey, Yolanda Renee, Elizabeth Seckman, and the one and only Arlee Bird. (Be sure to visit all of the hosts for this event. To find the full list of participants visit the list on Tossing It Out or any of the host sites.)

Lost and Found Valentines
Lost and Found Blogfest

This is what they needed: In honor of an upcoming Valentine’s Day, we want you to write about love lost or found. Share the highs and lows that only matters of the heart can bring. As such, our question for this month is just that: “When have you lost or found love?”

Do You ever Wonder about Your Own Death?


My thoughts might change, but as of today, I believe a death hurts as much as the attachment to the dead person or animal or plant. Which is why a friend’s death is devastating, whereas a man dying in the opposite side of the world, who you read about in the news, causes much less alarm. A pet’s death is painful, but the death of a random fly or snail isn’t. Following from this, the prospect of one’s own death is the most scary to some of people, because they’re most attached to themselves, or their survival instincts are alive and kicking. Which isn’t a bad thing.

The bad bit, according to me, at least, is not confronting death at all, keeping it taboo, a faraway topic to avoid. No point in trying to ignore the inevitable. Not that thinking about death day and night is the solution, but thinking about it once in a while can’t be all that bad.

What about you? Do you think of death? Your own death? The death of those you have lost? How significant is a fly’s death: is it a tragedy, or a catastrophe, or both?

Do you walk in Beauty?


Life is fleeting, before I know it a day, a week, a month, a year: whoosh, gone. In theory, I understand that if I’m mindful, let each moment live itself, and my self live that moment, time would expand. Because what is time after all– it’s a concept, it’s a function of motion, it’s the ticking clock in our bodies. When I read Byron in school, and can’t say I liked him much– I found his writing pansy, unreal, and puked in my mouth a little at passages like these from She walks in Beauty:

Walking with Tina– Do You Believe Life is Good?


For as long as I’ve known her, Tina’s struggled with her health– and she has never let that stand in the way of life, family, church, friendships, blogging, creative writing, or gardening– she did it all with a snark and a ready smile.

Tina and I spoke often, and every once in a while we spoke of visiting each other. I’ve never been to the USA and she’d never been to Singapore– so between Colorado and Singapore, we exchanged snapshots and dreams.

I know that I still want to visit the United States, and if I do, I would like to spend an hour beside a field of sunflowers, soaking in the sun, remembering Tina’s voice, the one that always sounded so happy to hear mine– even on the days she had a hard time breathing.