Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Buddha

Better than a thousand Hollow words Is one word that brings peace.
Better than a thousand Hollow verses Is one verse that brings peace.
Better than a hundred Hollow lines Is one line of the law, Bringing peace.
It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles; 
 Then the victory is yours.
Buddha

Monday, December 29, 2014

She Did it Her Way


Sunday Gazette-Mail, December 28, 2014
 

WRITE YOUR OWN COLUMN

More than this, she did it her way

By Peggy Toney Horton


Special to the Sunday Gazette-Mail  

 My mother smoked cigarettes.
She started experimenting when she was about ten years old and was still pursuing the habit when she died at 85.
 
 Like many elderly people, the older she got, the more crotchety she became. Sometimes it was amusing.
 After her health began to fail, I, her only child, had to take her for every doctor appointment. I once took her to her ophthalmologist for an exam. She had terrible eyesight; already having dealt with cataract surgery in both eyes and still struggling with poor vision due to age-related macular degeneration.
     The doctor became a little short of patience with her when he asked, “Have you quit smoking?” and she replied, “No, I haven’t.”

     His speech went something like this: “I’ve told you over and over again, Mrs. Toney, you may be able to slow the progression of your macular degeneration if you stop smoking, but if you continue, you’re going to be blind!”
     Trying to look innocent, she said, “I think they gave me some pills the last time I was in the hospital that made it worse.”
     “Oh no, they didn’t!” the doctor shouted emphatically.
     “It’s your smoking. You didn’t listen to me and now, there is nothing more I can do for you!”
     With that, he turned and stomped out of the room, leaving us both with gaping mouths. I felt sorry for her and wanted to run after him and tell him he shouldn’t talk to an elderly lady like that, especially my mother!
     But part of me knew he was right. She needed someone to bring her to her senses so she’d dismount the self-destructive merry-go-round she was on.
     She cried pitifully all the way home in the car.
     She said, “If I told a doctor my big toe was hurting, he’d say it’s because I smoke. They blame everything on smoking!”
     I stifled a giggle.
It must have seemed so to her. Every doctor wanted her to stop, but she refused.
    When we reached her house, I helped her out of the car and into the house. She flung her coat off and plopped down in her favorite chair. Pulling a tissue out of the box on the table, she dried her tears and quickly lit a cigarette.
 What can I say? This woman who raised me from a baby had never done anything she didn’t want to do and she wasn’t about to start now.
 She was never health-conscious, as people are today. She ate what she wanted. Drank what she wanted. And never bothered to exercise except for the work she did. That was plenty.
 I’ve seen her work like a man and get mad at my father because he didn’t do as much as she thought he should, even after he’d had a heart attack.
 But working served her well until she was past eighty. It was only then her health began to fail and she had a heart attack.
 She fought it all the way, refusing to obey doctor’s orders. She was sure she knew best. Perhaps she did.
 Just before she died, she was on the verge of a second heart attack and needing another stent, but, according to doctors, she was too weak for the operation.
    She had a broken hip, a broken vertebra, COPD, which is a serious lung disease; she was deaf and legally blind. On top of all that, she contracted pneumonia, and it was over.
 If ever there was a woman who lived life to suit herself, it was my mother. She did it “her way” throughout her life.
 And why not? She lived to be 85 years of age without giving up anything she enjoyed.
 As I think of her tonight, I can’t help but wonder how many years she would have lived if she had made even the slightest effort to take care of herself?
 I wish she had.

Peggy Toney Horton lives in Nitro and is a frequent contributor to the Sunday Gazette-Mail “Write Your Own Column.” She can be contacted via email at
pegylu@suddenlink.net.

This story was also published in "Bewildering Stories" in 2012.

www.amazon.com/author/peggytoneyhorton
 

Friday, December 12, 2014

Remembering Them at Christmastime


 

A beautiful time of year, December!

Today, the sun shines brightly, the temperature is 43 degrees where I live and the sky is clear and blue. If it weren’t so chilly, one could mistake it for a spring day.

And it’s almost Christmas!

In fact, two weeks from today will be the day after the most special holiday of the year.

“Ah, sweet relief!” some will say.

With all the build-up: shopping, decorating, cooking, and get togethers, a lot of people will welcome getting back to normal. Or whatever they perceive as normal. My grandmother used to say, “Normal is whatever you want it to be.”

I’m still pondering that one.

But I do know this: we still have two weeks to go at this hectic pace so we may as well put on a smile and try to enjoy it. For many, that’s more difficult than for others. Those who lost loved ones during the year are feeling their loss intensely and having trouble facing what is supposed to be a joyous celebration without that person or persons by their side.

Try to remember, your loved ones wouldn’t want your life to stop because theirs did. Life must go on. And while we wait for that wonderful day when we’ll see the people we love again, we never – not for one moment – forget them!

We Remember Them
In the rising of the sun and in its going down,
We remember them.
In the blowing of the winds and in the chill of winter,
We remember them.
In the warmth of the sun and the peace of summer,
We remember them.
In the rustling of leaves and the beauty of autumn,
We remember them.
In the beginning of the year and when it ends,
We remember them.
When we are weary and in need of strength,
We remember them.
When we are lost and sick at heart,
We remember them.
When we have joys we yearn to share,
We remember them.
So long as we live, they, too, shall live,
For they are now a part of us.
As we remember them.
                  ~Simcha Kling