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Saturday, June 30, 2012

Forthcoming book

I have been talking, and talking, and talking about putting together a book.  Finally, I have been working on this project, and it is something that I will probably be finished with it this weekend.  I haven't decided it's final name yet, so if you have read the blog and seen my Europe photos as well as a great idea about what the book should be called, send it to me.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Some Cheese with that Whine?

So far, I have had an amazing recovery from the broken back, concussion, and lung contusion I suffered from in the not so funny events that happened on April first.  The first time I tried to sing, it wouldn't come out.  I was completely shocked.  Of course, it led to a cascade of downward spiraling emotions that ended in lots of tears.  Since that time, I've accomplished many things: 1.  I can walk without the back brace or the walker I had.  2.  I can put on my own shoes.  3.  I can do simple household chores (and cook, but since when is that a chore?).  It is by no means a full recovery, but I'm functional.  I'm in no shape to go back to working in ICU lifting, turning, cleaning, and calculating, etc. However, considering the shape I was in nearly three months ago, it is quite miraculous.

I haven't been upset about my friends beating me at words with friends, although some of my "random opponents" appear to be using the cheats that are available for an extra $2.99. However, I have been emotional about my voice.  The first few days, I could barely speak above a whisper.  My cricoid cartilage felt as if it were jammed back to my esophagus.  I still feel pressure there (it's the 'adam's apple') at intermittent intervals, but it is slowly coming back to me.  This morning, I was listening to my favorite aria on YouTube. I decided to try to sing.  I actually got out a couple of phrases successfully.   I started to write this blog about all that frustrates me about being well enough but not my best; in other words, to whine.  I stopped to see all the gratitude I owe to all the people who have helped me, to all the people who participated in my treatment who were just "doing their jobs," and to the Universe who still has something here for me to accomplish. Here's a link to the aria that sparked the inspiration for the post:

Thursday, June 7, 2012

From the Brain to the Blog


They're headed straight for the train

Hand in hand

Blissful and oblivious

To the danger where they stand

She thinks it's the light at the end of the tunnel

He wants to think it, too

He never told her what he knows

Now, he's not about to

As the train comes, she jumps off the tracks

But he stares into the light

He's never been the strong one

He's just the "big mouth" in the fight

He could just jump out of the way

And tell her what he knows

He's too proud, he doesn't love her enough

The cards in his hand show

As the seconds turn to an eternity

She pleads with him for his life

He cries and begs the train to stop

Her advice he ignores

After all, he's a man who knows more than his wife

In his mind, his wisdom shows

Gallant effort and ability

She begins to doubt

She warns and pleads, and tells of the danger to come

If he won't move away from the train

Pleadingly tugs his hand

She finds stable land

She can't watch the collision to come

Day after day, and year after year

She questioned her decision

To let him go, knowing of the impending collision

He loved her, but not enough

To step out of harm's way

Not enough to tell her what was going on that day

Though he didn't die in the wreck

She lost him anyway

That path she couldn't go

Bent on destruction

He loved her when things went his way

How could she know

She meant little to him

He didn't care much about "them"

Marriage meant nothing at all

Oh, the shock! The unbridled anguish

Blissfully, they walked hand in hand

Oh! That wretched day

copyright 2012 Rhonda Wittmer

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

So, you think you can't sing

Someday I will sing again

I don't know where or when

I'll not complain about my voice then

Someday I will sing again

I heard an old recording

The video had gone

The sound of my voice lingered on

The old tape had seen better days

It went to the old tape grave

The church Christmas solo one year

The Mary/Joseph duet another

They were perfectly perfect

For what they were

I didn't appreciate them then

All I could hear is teachers in my head

Pushing my patience

Always picking: Oh the dread

Of hearing all that I did wrong

It wasn't until later I understood

Nit-picking was their way to achieve perfection

The voice was already good

For now the voice is gone

Oh, how I miss you!

I'll practice and wait

Until you return

copyright Rhonda Wittmer 2012