Oh My Aching Mouth Part 3

Boker Tov;

Since Saturday afternoon, I have become a fixture on the living room sofa. Montaque, fulfilling his role as lapdog, makes himself comfort while I sleep, only moving to go out for his work or sharing my chicken soup.
It has been a slow healing, Doctor told me it would be. It has also been quite painful. The first night was the roughest with lots of pain and little sleep.
The next morning, Doctor James prescribe a stronger medication and I was able to get some much needed sleep.
I used the time well, reading, praying, grooming Montaque.
And of course Mark was as caring and loving as always. Saturday night when all I could do was cry because of the pain, he held me and prayed for me. I remember his kissing my hair as I fell asleep.
There is so much to be grateful for.
A loving husband.
An awesome Dentist.
Great pain medication.
Chicken soup.
And Montaque.

Oh My Aching Teeth Part 2

Shalom:

So here I am, Saturday morning, preparing to part with my wisdom teeth. To make things a little easier, Doctor James offered me a pair of cool shades.

But she wouldn't let me take them home.

Thankfully, I had Harriet the Hippo for support.

Ahhhh....parting is such sweet sorrow....

And it begins. First the numbing, then the anaesthesia for the removal of the two teeth.
We are so blessed to have found Doctor James. As I said in the previous post, Doctor James and her staff work overtime to make each patient feel not only important, but comfortable. Taking her time, Doctor James made sure not to cause undone pain. She made sure my mouth was numb enough to be worked on, not in the least bit in a hurry.
And she made sure I didn't squeeze the stuffing out of Harriet; otherwise she told me she would have to report me to Peta.

Oh My Aching Teeth

Shalom:

Painting by Thomas Kinkade.
I told my mother I posted the pictures of the Thomas Kinkade Gallery in her hallway. She was pleased with that. I think it is so cool that by now he has met He Who inspired the Paintings of Light.
Last week, I finally went to the Dentist.
Not because I didn't wish to do (now that I really did) but because up until now, we didn't have the money to go. But thanks to Tricare, we now have dentist care and I got to once visit the Dentist
yippee.
I already knew the lay of the land; the two wisdom teeth on the right and one on the left were broken and I had been spitting out tiny pieces every once in a while for years. So I already knew they were going to be pulled. I also knew there would a a few fillings in my future.
What I didn't expect to hear when I open my mouth, my nerves wave back at you.
Long story short, oral surgery was in my future.
Like Saturday morning. Passover.
I decided to bring Harriet my Pink Hippo with me for support.
And though our insurance would cover most of the visit, we did have to dig up 80.00 dollars for the co-pay.
Which we did.
The staff of Artful Smiles, is awesome and I adore my dentist, Doctor James. They knew how to put a nervous patient like me as ease.
I did have a bad experienced at the Dentist years ago, the issue wasn't fear, but money.
The last time I had been to the Dentist was a good six-teen years ago and then only because my mother paid for the extraction of a bad tooth.
Like many Americans, I could not afford to go to the Dentist, let alone afford the insurance. With the choice of paying the rent, putting food on the table, clothes on my son's back or cleaning my teeth, the needs of my family won out.
It is a choice many Americans still have to make.Unlike health care, oral health isn't covered by Medicaid or low-income clinics. While there are dentist who do offer their services for free or lower cost, they are few and far between.
I remember nights, crying because my mouth hurt, bathing my tooth in oral jel and praying for relief.
Now as I relax on the sofa, the right side of my mouth filled with stitches, minus two wisdom teeth, I cry again. Not for myself. But for the people who don't have the blessing of dental insurance and must take care of their tooth aches the best way they can.
I wish I knew what the answer was.
Affordable Dental insurance would be a great start.

The Gallery of Light

Shalom:As many know by now, the artist of Light, Thomas Kinkade's soul returned to the Creator. There will be many nasty things written about Mr. Kinkade concerning his recent troubles. The media loves to feed on the flesh of the fallen, made only worse when the person is a man or woman of faith.
I shall not do that.
Instead, I would like to share two stories of how Mr.Kinkade's work has touched and brighten my own life.
The first story.
It was September 2008. Mark was granted a pass from Fort Bragg to come home for the High Holy Days, just before he was deployed to Iraq.
Mr. Kinkade had a showing at Fort Bragg and Mark stopped to look around. Mark told Mr. Kinkade he was looking for a special picture for me since he would be leaving soon. Mr. Kinkade suggested the following picture, a limited addition which he signed for me.

This picture now hangs in our living room. How often I still look at this picture and pray for our troops.
The second is my mother.
After Mother recovered from her Strokes, she once again began to put together jigsaw puzzles. But not just any puzzle. They had to be Thomas Kinkade.
I credit the puzzle paintings of Thomas Kinkade in the recovery of my mother. For the past six years, mummie has received Kinkade puzzles for her birthday, x-mas and mother's day. During this time, mummie has been putting together and framing Thomas Kinkade's puzzles. After framing them, she has given the pictures out as wedding or birthday gifts. But most of them grace the walls of Hope Haven  Assistance Living where mother's lives, bringing both light and joy to the home.

Thank you, Mr. Kinkade for the joy and beauty, for the Light you brought to the world. The world is a better place you had been here.

8 Days Passover: Chapter Two

The 8 Days of Passover: Chapter One

The Feastvial of Our Freedom

Shalom:

In less than twenty-four hours, it will be Passover.
This year holds special meaning for me.
Dealing with this depression, as taught me how to find joy in the little things. The singing of a BlueJay. The beauty of a ButterCup. The joy that comes with a dog washing your face with kisses.
 Mark is still out of work. And yet, we have never been closer. We talk more. We pray more. Yes, things have been tense at times, but we have learn to make up quicker. We say 'I love you,' more, we giggle over a shared candy bar or have laughing fits over the antics of Montaque.

 As I read once again the story of Passover, of G_D seeing the oppression of His people and through Moshe, delievered them from Pharoah with a strong Hand. Like our forefathers, we are being beaten down and oppressed with the weight of our present situration. We are being pressed on all sides, we have been crying out to the Holy One. Crying out for jobs, for relieve from bill collectors, from the bondage of lack. We are driven to our knees in prayer, knowing in our heart of hearts He shall deliever us.
Just as He delievered our forefathers in those days of ole.
The Passover Miracle? The delieverance from Bondage, to be led to the Land flowing with milk and honey, The Promised Land. He is still the G_D Who Sees, Who Cares, Who Delievers.
Many of the Hebrews lost hope, no longer believered. But many Hebrews still held on and did not give up hope. The whip against raw backs didn't beat away the longing of the breaking of those chains.
It didn't matter who did or did not believe in the Promise; G_D still came and delievered His Children.
And that is why we partake of the Passover every year; to remember that Night of Wonder, that Night of Nights.
Now here is the interesting part I saw this year: it wasn't believeing if G_D would indeed deliever His Children as promised, but was in the lamb itself.
Each family was to take for themselve a male yearling into their home for four or five days. They were to feed it from their table. The yearling slept with the children, played with the children and followed the woman of the home around. The lamb became part of the family; they even had to clean up after the guy's waste.
But then, there came that day when the family stood in front of the door, each member placing their hands upon the lamb's head. Then the father would have to slit the lamb's throat, all the while the lamb is looking lovingly in the father's eyes.
The blood was placed on the doorpost and then the lamb is roasted and eaten. In sadness.
The salvation was in the death of the lamb, of placing the blood on the doorpost and eating its roasted flesh. It was personal because the salvation came from not just any old lamb; but one that the family had embraced.
And yet, when the Angel of the L_RD "saw the blood, He Passover that house."
Centries later, Yeshua Himself celebrated Passover.  First with His mother, step-father, brothers and sisters, then later His Disciples. He knew what it was like to see that living, warm lamb, feeling its breath on His hand as it licked His hand. He knew what it was to carry the body of that same lamb upon His shoulders, so that it would be roasted and eaten iwth His family, along with the bitter herbs and unleavened bread. He drank the four cups on the table and sang the Passover songs. On His last night on earth, Yeshua said, "I have longed to share this Passover with you."
And so did His followers. In fact, until 300 A.D, the followers of Yeshua HaMessiah did not celebrate Easter, but Passover. It wasn't until Passover, along with all the other Feast of the L_RD were condmen and outlawed by the church fathers. So, with respect, this is why, if Yeshua was alive today, He would be keeping, not Easter, but Passover.
Sorry, no Easter Egg Hunts.
With all we have gone through the past almost two years, I can relate somewhat to my forefathers and mothers. For I have still outside, looking at the moon and cry; "When, L_RD, when?"
And just trust that He will deliever us.
This year we shall indeed hold a Seder in our home, thanks to the loving gifts of others who have made it possiable for us to keep the Commandment to keep the Passover. Gifts from the Hands of G_D through His children.
Today, Mark recieved a call; he was called back for a third interview with a insurance company. We are believing that this is his job.
A Passover Miracle.
Tomorrow night, Mark and I, like Jews all around the world, we will paratake of the roasted lamb and drink the wine, eat the unleaven and eat the bitter herbs. We shall enjoy in the G_D of our Salvation.
I invite my christian friends to read the Passover Story, found in Exdous chapter one to twelve. It's your story too.
For if there had been no Passover, there would be no Yeshua HaMessiah.

Welcome Home and Thank You for Your Service

The Sounds of Spring

Boker Tov:
While Monti and I were taking our morning walk yesterday, I heard the faint sounds tiny brass clinking together as the wind blew.

Wind Climes.
I have always love the music of the Wind Climes. Each one has it's own song. Monti and I stopped to listen for a moment. We couldn't see it, but we could hear it.
Funny how I hadn't thought about having one or two of my own. I would transform our ugly fire escape.
We started our walk again, only to be stopped a few minutes later by the song of a Blue Bird. Monti looked up in the tree and smiled. It's nice to know our little guy likes the songs of birds as well as stopping to smell the flowers. That is his own doggie way, he too appreciates the beauty of creation.
In the distance, we heard the children being let out for P.E. so we walked over to the school yard to walk them play, their laughter filling the air.
Wind Climes. Birds singing. Child's laughter. The barking of a dog who wants to play with the children.
The sounds of Spring.

A Chocolate Rabbi....

A Dog Day Afternoon

Shalom:
Yesterday afternoon, I took Montaque outside for a bit. There was a nice breeze and Monti decided to lay in the grass and enjoy the feel of the soft breeze across his little face.
Thankfully, I had my cameria.

Such a sweet face.

Here Monti truly looks like a butterfly.

 This is my favorite picture of my little guy. He's so content.

It Finally Feels Like Spring

Boker Tov:
It finally feels like Spring here in Virginia.
I was slowly awaken by the warmth of the rising sun and the singing of the blue birds just outside our bedroom window.
I laid there, in the warmth of my husband's arms, listening to his soft breathing, listening to the birds. It reminded of my childhood; the birds singing outside the window.
Mark stirred and I felt his eyes begin to open.
What a wonderful way to wake up in the morning. G_d's smile (sunshine) G_d's voice (the birds singing) and G_d's warm embrace (being held in my husband's arms)
We got up and prepared for the day. I brushed and dressed Montaque for the day as Mark made coffee. We had our and Mark took Monti for the first walk of the day while I got dressed.
We have been attending a Marriage Class at our former church, but because Mark had Drill and then just not having the money for gas, we have missed the last few classes. So this morning, we were able to attend, only to find there was no class. So back home we went, to have the morning meal and get Monti since we are going to visit a friend in a Rehab Center later in the day.
So right now, we are enjoying a second cup of coffee, enjoying the quiet of the day.
On the way home, we talked about the coming week.
This week is Preparation Week as we prepare to remember and partake of the Passover. Hebrews around the world for the past month have been cleaning their homes, top to bottom, removing all leaven (yeast) including anything that would contain yeast. This includes breads, cakes, cookies, etc. I have always believed this is where we get "Spring Cleaning," because everything is aired out and the house is refreshed.
Yeast is often pictured as sin and to clean our homes is to make us reflect upon our own spiritual state. How "clean" am I? Just as I use to have a hiding place for my cookies when I was a child (and my mother would find then during Spring Cleaning), so to we tend to look into places we haven't seen since last year, and find a nice little mess. How much better we are more attended to "hidden places." During this time, we stop buying and using leaven products, because the Passover is to be remembered in a "preparaed place."
When my son was a boy, we try to reenact as much of Passover as we could. I would remind him that Yeshua, as a Child, would have helped clean the house for Passover. That He would help remove the leaven in the house.
Yeshua even as an adult would keep Passover, even telling His Disciples to "go find and prepare the place that we make keep the Passover," the final week of His earthly life.
For us, it will be a far different Passover. We will not be hosting a Seder in our home. But we will be ridding our home from leaven, preparing our hearts and homes for this special time of the year.

A Soldier's Story

Shalom:
Because of problems I had with my lower  back this month, I wasn't really able to do justice to International Woman's Month. But I don't know any better way to close this month than to share the story of a remarkable woman, a relatived of mine.
My cousin, Daniella Prude. I shall let Daniella tell her own story:

" My retirement date is 1 Nov and that will be 22 years served! I have held every leadership position in the Army execpt Sergeants Major. I had two rewarding positions and that was as an Equal Opportunity Advisor, which is a person who monitors discrimination, religious and sexual harassment complaints. I was also a First Sergeant. As the First Sergeant, I was the Senior Enlisted Advisor in a company of over 140 personnel. It was my responsibility to ensure they were trained on all tasks, able to execute with little to no supervision, instill the spirit to Win, achieve, and overcome any obstacle and more importantly do it as a TEAM. Soldiers give you life and it's never a dull moment. They come from all different backgrounds so it's an opportunity to learn about people and their culture to accept it and embrace it. There is a dark side being a female in a Man's Army. Some of the men seem to feel this dominance over us which causes them to sexually assault when given the opportunity. This is an issue that the Army is working on and hopefully in the near future the incidents will decrease. The Army has taught me a lot and I've enjoyed my time. Everything has to come to an end. I have developed some amazing friendships and I wouldn't change that for the world!

The Beauty of Love

Who's The Boss

Shalom:
When Montaque walked into our lives and into our hearts, we had no idea how our life and our home would change.
Dog food, doggie treats and Milk Bones are now part of our shopping list, doggie toys fill the apartment and we have an official door greeter.
Our days include visits to the SPCA for shots update and check-ups, visits to Pet shops and the Internet for information about the care and keeping of an older Papillon.
During this time we also learnt who truly is the boss in our home.

A few days ago I was laying down on the bed, trying to get rid of a headache when I heard Monti come into the hallway. I lifted my head and could see he wanted my attention. He came into the bedroom and then walked back out.
Clearly I was to follow him. So I got up and off we went into the kitchen where Mark had just finished preparing the supper plates.
Monti came to tell me supper was ready.
The following morning I found Montaque in the Bathroom. He looked at the shower and then at me.
Shower Time.
Then I finished my shower, Monti then led me to the bedroom. The only he didn't do was pick out my clothes and dress me.
Last night while Mark and I were sitting in the living room talking, Monti came in and began to bark. We hurried into the kitchen, thinking supper was burning. It wasn't. But supper was done.
Smart dog.

Loving dog. We call Monti the Boss. But of course, it is said in love. He has taken over and he is spoiled rotten.
But then again, tell me; could you resist this face?

He Drank The Whole Thing.

Shalom:
For all the years I hoped and pray to have a second chance at being a mother, the last thing I would be the mother of a 14 year old Papillon named Montaque.

And what a little joy he has been these past three months. Like Mark, I cannot imagine life without him.

As all parnets of Furry babies know, these precious little touches of G_D are indeed amoung the best teachers of how to a good parent as well as teaching us how to treat and get along with others.
As with our two legged babies, we learn quickly the fur balls can get into things.
Like our coffee.
One morning, I was sitting at the computer, working on a letter to a friend. Mark brought me a cup of coffee and I sat the cup on the floor beside me. It's a habit. And of course I wasn't thinking.
A few minutes later, I heard the sound of a small dog lapping......

It seems Mr. Montaque likes his coffee hot as well.....

Yeah, he drank all of it.

The Broken Heart of A Mother

As a mother and a grandmother, my heart breaks for the parnets of Trayvon Martin.
I remember when I hear Trayvon was carrying a bottle off ice tea and a bag of Skittles, my mind flashed back; my son Aries loved Skittles as a child. In another place and time, Trayvon could have well been my son.
 In our anger and our pain, let each person who reads this blog, remember to lift this family in their prayers or have good thoughts.

I believe just knowing that there are people of good will, from all colours and backgrounds that are praying for justice for their son, for this wrong to be right. It wouldn't bring Trayvon, but they will rest easier knowing their son's crys didn't go unanswered.

A Bloodly Week

The week started with news of the shooting of a young boy, a teenager, walking home from the store. He had been watching a game on TV and during half-time Trayvon went to buy a bottle of ice tea. He was asked to bring back a bag of Skittles for his younger brother.
The little brother never got the skittles.
A self-appointed neighbourhood watchman, called 9-11 to report a suspicious man. The dispatcher told the man he didn't have to follow the man.
But he did.
Trayvon was on the cell phone with his girlfriend. He was frighten; someone was following him. The girlfriend told him to run, but he decided to just walk fast.
Shots were fired. The boy hit the ground crying for help. But none came. His young body laid unclaimed in the morgue for three days. The police did not use Trayvon's cell phone to even contacted his parents. Drug testing was done on Trayvon. No drugs were found.
His mother and father didn't know where their son was, let alone he was dead for three days.

As the mother of a black son and two black grandsons, what happen to Trayvon Martin was amoug my worse nightmare. Like my mother before me, I always warned my son that there would be people who would only see your skin colour, always believe the worse of you even before they heard your name. You will have to work twice as hard to be considered just as good. Women will hold their purse closer to their person when yo walk by, store keepers will keep a closer eye on you. If you are walking through a nice neighbourhood, it will be assumed that you are up to no good. If you married someone non-white it is because you ashamed of who you are, you are marrying for the person's money and not for love. My mother said "maybe the world will change when you have children." I never dreamt that my son would now have to repeat these same words to my grandsons.
My heart breaks for Trayvon's mother and father, for his siblings and other family members. For America. Because Trayvon was a young American boy with his whole ahead of him. A good boy who never become a man.
But may his death be a wake-up call to this nation. To the hatred that still exist.
Tuesday, in France, a young Rabbi and two of his children, along with another small child, were shot to death in front of a Jewish school.

Their crime? Being Jewish.
We are the Unseen.
There are people who see me and yet look right through me. They see my skin colour, therefore I am a welfare mother, a drug addict, a maid or a street walker. They see my hair covered so I must be a muslin or a Jew, I am in a cult, I am oppressed and beaten by my father or my husband.
They see my white husband. So of course I married him for his money.
No matter how nicely I dress, I can walk into a store and a clerk who I am there to steal and will keep an eye on my moments. Mark and I have gone out to eat and the waiter will take Mark's order, but not mine.
A bloody week indeed.
It is now the year 2012. And this madness should not still be going on.

As a family, Mark, Montague and I stand with the Martin family and others victims of such injustice. We stand, wearing our Hoodies in support for Justice for Trayvon. For all our sons and daughters, brothers and sisters.
Will you?

International Woman Month

Shalom:
March is International Woman Month.
This month we honour the women around the world, both past and present who have made and are making a difference in our world.
I would like to start with one of my favourite women:
Torah.

In Judaism, the Torah is known as She.
She is our Wisdom. She is known as the Tree of Life to all who hunger and thirst.
Torah is referred to as The Jewel of our faith. And in her folds lie the words of life.
When we look into the Bible, for example, in the book of Proverbs where Wisdom is personified as a Woman. Female imagery begins the book of Proverbs in Chapters 1-9 and also ends the book in chapter 31.
Proverbs 2: 2-3 not only tells us to listen to Wisdom, but to seek Her as a treasure, as the finest silver.
In Proverbs 9:1-6, Wisdom is depicted as a figure with a home inviting those in need of her (wisdom) to enter.  She says "Come, eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed. Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of insight." In Proverbs 8:15-21, she not only identifies herself as the Divine companion, but also as the source of order in society and success in life. In chapter 31:10 she is personified as the ideal Wife for an Israelite man in a section titled Ode to a Capable Wife.
  There is debate about the status and place of Woman Wisdom in relation to the Divine. Some have interpreted her as a companion to the divine, an abstraction, an extension to the divine, or a Goddess. Further information about the nature of Wisdom is found in Proverbs 8:22-30. In these verses "wisdom speaks of herself as having been created before anything else and as Yahweh's companion and even assistant at the creation of the ordered world."  In Hebrew, the Glory of G-d, the Spirit, The Ruch is known a feminine.
It has always been  easier for me to understand the personification of wisdom as a woman when she is placed in comparison to the other female mentioned in Proverbs 7. In contrast to Woman Wisdom, she is portrayed as a prostitute, adulteress, and a woman with much seductive speech. She is given the designation of being a "foreign" or "strange" woman, even "foolish." The victims of the Strange Woman are among the simple ones, young men (and old) without sense. The young man of Proverbs 6:7 is repeatedly warned to avoid such a woman. This may reflects the biblical insistence on marriage within the Jewish Faith and thus keeping false gods out of the community.
Our Sages say that when a husband loves his wife, he fulfils the whole Torah. How he treats his wife either brings honour or dishonour to The Torah.
Something to think about.
When The Torah is taken out of the Ark, all in her presence stand. She is draped in a lovely mantle cover. When placed on the desk, the mantle is removed with care, her words filling the air and the ears around her to hear her words chanted, rising up to the Throne of G-d. When finished, She is lifted up and rolled once again, redressed in her mantle and placed back in her place of honour.
I often this of a wife and mother. In Judaism, the wife and mother is known as the jewel of the home, the queen. The same life and respect given.
No wonder the Torah is referred to as Woman. She is wine and bread that nurtures our souls. She is the balm of healing and the Treasure of G-d to His beloved children on earth. She is welcoming and yet and exacting in Her correction.
The Torah. The Word of G-d.
She Who has changed our world.

My Mother The Poet

Shalom:
I recieved my love for words from my mother.
An avid reader, our home was filled with books as well as music.
Mummy has always written. And she encouraged me to write as well. Being a poor speller, however was trying to my beloved's nerves. When I entered the fourth, she gave me one of the greatest, most pricest of gifts.
A dictionary. While we already had one the whole family used, mommy gave me my very own dictionary and taught me how to use it.
For me, my new dictionary was like a huge box of crayolos. With all of these wonderful words, I could not only paint amazing word pictures, but learn new words, have new colors to add to my palete. Sometimes I would just lay on my bed and read the dictionary as one would a novel.
Even today, a dictionary isn't fall from my side.
And spell check is my buddy.
After mother's strokes twelve years ago, and she had regain the use of her hands, mommy began to start writing poetry.
Not surprising since mommy loves poetry.

About six years ago, mommy entered into a poetry contest at Hope Haven, where she lives. And of course mommy won first prize.
Since then mommy has continued to delights others with the poems she pens.
This morning, mommy was feeling a little sad that her birth month, which ended yesterday was over. So, she wrote her feeling out. Soon, she was giving thanks to G-d the life she has led and reflected on her life now.
I smiled as I listened. I heard the song of an older woman, wise with age and faith, to her G-d, giving thanks for her life, her family and friends and for the place in life she now enjoys.
One day I hope to be able to share some of my mother's poems.
Poems from a g-dly woman.