Tuesday, September 21, 2010

A New Aunt for a Newborn

    My oldest sibling finally had her baby a few days ago! They named her Kayli, and she is like a perfect little porcelain doll. Her skin is so flawless and soft, aside from the few dry spots due to the lack of humidity here. Because she's a newborn, Kayli can only see up to eight inches in front of her, but that doesn't stop her probing eyes from searching everything that she can see. And now to tell the rather interesting story that I learned while waiting in the hospital. Don't ever judge off of a first impression!

    As my sister was in the hospital having her baby, I sat rather impatiently outside her room on a scratchy and rather cheap looking dark color-splatted chair.
My foot tapped incessantly in their light orange bowler-style shoes. Nurses shuffled past me, several making remarks on how it was "sooo nice" that I was sitting and waiting so patiently... Well,what else would I have done? Like I could've leaped right into my sister's room and shouted,
"You better have this baby now, or I'm leaving!!!!!"


    I'm guessing it was more of a small-talking comment to lament the hours that I sat waiting for Kayli      to arrive.

    My foot continued to tap nonchalantly as I peered down the hall to see what my dad and brother were up to, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a rather interesting shaped blob of color walking swiftly down the hall. Distractedly, I focused my eyes to see what the hustle was.
It was a short and skinny blonde lady who looked like a barbie, speed walking down the hall faster than if a creepy Ken brandishing a cleaver was chasing her.
She wore a little mini-skirt complemented by a hippie-looking rhinestone studded peace-sign-covered crew neck t-shirt. I was more than a little surprised when "barbie lady" looked down at me and laughing joked,
"Well who banned you from the room?" and with a little laugh waltzed right into the room where my sister was in labor.

     Surprise turned to horror and wonderment.

     Who in the world was this woman? Was that one of my sister's friends? Was she completely crazy?

     The next voice I heard from the other side of the wall was "barbie lady's," saying in that same casual tone,
"Alright, well let's get this thing over with!"

     She wasn't just any lady. It turned out that she was the doctor! That gave me a laugh too, and in a manner of minutes I heard another voice. Another voice that I had never heard in my life.

    It was a soft little cry, almost like a baby bird calling for something, but more prolonged. A smile crept to my lips as a thought impacted my brain like no other had for a long time.
"I'm an aunt!"

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Memoir to An Amazing Dog

I remember the first time I saw her,
Like a little energized feather-duster
With two black eyes darker than the sky.
Tiny eyes.
Slits of pleasure that you saw and loved instantly.
I remember how her fuzzy legs sprinted towards me from the end of the hall,
It was as if she was my best friend who hadn't seen me in a year,
Even though we'd never met.
Her fluffy and curly tail wiggled in sheer excitement,
It was always wagging like there was no tomorrow.
And now there isn't.

I remember the first time she played in the snow.
It's the only time that it's ever snowed that I've really remembered,
the rest are blurred together like a smeared painting,
But I remember.
She bounded up the stairs with her tongue hanging out,
Dripping, pure white snowflakes clung to her, forming snowballs.
Dangling from her like icicles from a roof.
She shivered, innocently, laughter shone in her eyes,
It was as though she had made a joke that she didn't understand.

I remember the first time she chased her tail.
I remember when she started that annoying habit of loudly barking at the door.
I remember when she played tag with her nose, and the triumphantly proud look on her face- victory every time.
I remember the pensive look written across her face whenever I cried, I know she would have cried with me if she could.
I remember her ears perking up when we asked her to sit, always alert.
I remember when she ran in circles around the house and never got tired.
I remember remembering her while I was at school or away from home. Reminding myself that no matter how people thought of me, that my adorable dog would think the best.
I remember that unconditional love and miss it with all my heart,
Because I remember.

Rest in peace Dusty!

Friday, September 10, 2010

My Name

     In English fractions of my name descend from royalty. In Hebrew it means House of Figs, or the hallowed land where Lazarus was brought back to life. It is life like. Bright, energetic life, blazing like a billion gleaming orange sunbeams. The color of sunrise. The symbol of a new morning trying to prove that it is ready to face a new day, come what may, beckoning cheerfully to all and sharing promised warmth.
   It is a fresh new face, my name. Unlike my mom, my grandma, or her mother. Even though I’m younger than the whole lot of them, my name is older. Ancient. Tracing back to Queen Elizabeth, though I am just Beth alone. Not always lonely alone. Simply independent. The only part of my given name related to family is my middle one. A memory of the caring Grandma that I haven’t met. All I can do is Hope. Hope that one day my name will bring happy remembrances to my family. Like Grandma for mine or Elizabeth for the world.
     Elizabeth the I. Leading, fiercely like a lion, but calmly calculating. She conquered a Spanish fleet. Ironic for my name to be partially descended from hers, when she willed her cousin, my ancestor to be killed. I would’ve liked to have seen the passion she had for her people. The witty way she secretly allowed pirates to commandeer her enemy’s ships-- without protest. Silently amused, yet cunningly neutral. Accomplished herself in capturing subject’s loyal hearts.
    And for centuries since, she has maintained her dignity and fame. Remembered-- I wonder if she ever resented her life, pondered alone over whether her glass of life was half empty or half full. Queen or pawn, in the end we will all return to the same box. Beth. Though I have inherited only part of her name, I’ve inherited her passion for life, and have in my own way, have come off conqueror.

     At home, my name is never mine. At home, I’m seen through my Dad’s eyes like I was sixteen years ago. A bouncy baby kangaroo. His little jouncing Joey-- Jojo. Many nicknames blot out my own, as if it’s a simple word to be covered and replaced like white-out on paper. At school, fellow students create their own names for me. It’s as if I’m a whited-out canvas that needs more colorful paint. Fans croon as white and black face painted singers rock out, belting my name to adoring adults. In their mouths, it solemnly sounds as lonely as the moon. A name without a home to come back to.
There is no other word in the English language to describe who I am, save it be my own name. I am who I am. My name means me. When someone calls it, it’s like a sounding trumpet chord, telling the tune of my soul to those who care to listen. Yes. I will always be me.


     I don't know why I'm just barely posting all these pictures from last year. But, there are memories from High School that shouldn't be forgotten!Somewhere deep down, I know that I would regret it if I didn't have a memory of these pictures ever again.

      I recognize the fact that there are times in our lives when we must move on and really learn from the past, this is definitely one of those times. I'm glad to have had some friends in high school who helped me to realize the type of person I want to be as well as the type of person that I want to end up with in the future. Thanks for all the good times we had together when we were better friends :)

"Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road. Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go.
So make the best of this test and don't ask why. It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time.
It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life.
So take the photographs and still-frames in your mind. Hang them on a shelf in good health and good times.Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial. For what it's worth, it was worth all the while.
It's something unpredictable, but in the end it's right. I hope you had the time of your life."