Goodbye Letter to Papa

papaThe day I was born was one of the happiest days of my grandfather’s life. Every year his voice singing, “Happy Birthday” opera style, was a cherished part of my celebrating. After 92 years of singing, on that day, we could no longer hear his voice.

Dear Guido,

Let us hear you sing one more time,
come laugh with us.

Your smile is surely what we will miss most…

Promise to smile for us soon, if only this time as an angel in our dreams.

We shall not cry, no.
We won’t shed a tear.


We are among the fortunate ones who got to share our life with someone as special as you are.


Instead we will learn from your example; and dance, sing, laugh and love…

Throughout the good, and we will do it even more during the hardest times.


We will tear up the dance floor when we are almost 90 and remain active.

You understood how sitting for too long was bad and moving was what kept you young.


Forever young

Cracking jokes and smiling,

Till you took your last breath.


A smile which did in fact have the power to light up a room.


We will pick roses in the garden for our wives and stay light hearted about life,

befriending everyone.

Take our grandchildren on our laps, letting them know they are forever loved.


We promise not to cry Guido,

Instead we will raise a glass

In honor of this prince who shared our life with us who will be so dearly missed.


We will celebrate every moment,

Even the ones when our hearts are breaking.


We celebrate you Guido,

We toast to you!


Forever in our hearts and never forgotten.

Sing for the angels now, Papa!


How lucky they are to have you…

Love,

your granddaughter

F.

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The Cold Shoulder

the cold shoulder

Letter Series Chapter 3: Creamy Cravings

Dear Ice Cream Truck Driver,

Stop trying to sabotage my attempt at living a, “Fit & healthy,” “ Strong is the new skinny,” “Dairy & processed sugar free,” life! Why do you have such a knack for creeping by my window and playing your seductive tune right after my workout? As I sip my raw, vegan protein shake I can almost taste every one of your creamy treasures and feel the melting love juice dripping down the corner of my chin…

I mean what kind of person doesn’t like ice cream? Something has to seriously, be wrong with you!

Ice cream generates instant smiles and brings us all back to our childhood and a time of simple, pure happiness. With so many flavours to choose from,  you’re bound to find the one that with each extra lick helps to dissolve all of your deepest, darkest sorrows…

I know I’m not the only one who has cried herself right to the bottom of an empty ice cream tub after a bad breakup?! Who hasn’t savoured a little après fête ice cream cake slathered all over their lover’s nether regions? If by slim chance you haven’t tried this please do pencil it in a.s.a.p, it’s sticky fun for everyone! I would much rather pour some nice prosecco down your vaj, but variety is what keeps things interesting. 😉

Why does ice cream have the power to make us crave it as soon as we see someone else enjoying some? Does kale have that effect? When you see someone eating a kale salad are you all like,

Wow, I really want some kale!”

Maybe what we need is a little more ice cream in our lives. Ice cream that we just lick and enjoy without worrying about sugar and fat content or calorie count or how much we should run on the treadmill to work off the icy delight the next day.

I propose the adult version of an Ice Cream Truck, the “Margarita Van.” I was going to say, “Marijuana” but decided to stick with, “Margarita.”

Cue Fergie’s, “M.I.L.F. $” Song…

Yes! That is the soundtrack playing in the background while all the happy adults walk, run, skip and traipse their way to the Margarita Van! Can’t you just picture it?

Now, how do I get one of those to drive through my neighbourhood…

F.

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Recipes of Love

Nonna

Letters Series Chapter 2: Letter to Nonna’s Grave

Dear Nonna,

You were missed this past easter. More specifically, I missed your tough baker’s hands and my ultimate favourite indulgence, Calzone di cipolla, heavenly onion pie. I never appreciated enough when you were alive how important upholding these traditions were. I wish I would have taken the time to learn more about some of these recipes.

Magic ingredients you used to craft taste sensations year after year with your skilled hands. Into your eighties, upper body rounded over a countertop, you kept up with the back breaking work making batch after batch of enough food to feed a small army.

I’m not sure now, how much we really knew about you. Obviously quite strong, you moved oceans away from home to a country where everyone spoke a different language. Leaving one place, following the hope of a better life somewhere in the unknown.

Your smile always seemed at it’s brightest, in pictures when you went back to visit. Did you ever really want to move?

Like a fragile leaf, torn and broken on your knees, you screamed the name of your beloved dead son…

Only as we were loosing you in the hospital, did this intense vulnerability appear again. With heavy breath, time and the world stopped because nothing else mattered. Cold room warmed by loving hands. Trembling hands held still, questioning hands reassured by prayer, dying hands waving goodbye to hands holding on tightly for one last time.

I hope we were able to bring you some comfort and that you knew you were cared for and loved. Now your spirit lives on in eternal peace, never having to feel loss or be physically slowed down by aches and pains, when it yearns to remain active and free. You are free now Nonna, free from anything that ever stopped you from having that big bright smile on your face all the time.

Love,

your granddaughter

F.

 

Spanked: A unicorn’s story

 

pete 1

Letters Series Chapter 1: Meet Pete

From Matilda to her unicorn Pete:

I have offended you my precious and for this I am truly sorry. Please let me softly whisper secrets one more time in your cute little fluffy ear! Remember, it’s you and me against the world sweet cheeks and nothing in this great big crazy world could ever change that.

Spanking you on the bus was just something that had to be done and there was no avoiding it. How many times have we had the talk about things that are appropriate when we are in public and how we spend our time when it’s just the two of us at home in the big marble castle?

I don’t enjoy humiliating you, especially so close to our wedding anniversary. ❤ ❤ ❤

Oh don’t look at me like that with those irresistible big, shiny eyes. I am trying to make a good impression on the other members of the royal kingdom. When one laughs alone to themselves it might give strangers an indication of, a few screws loose or something missing upstairs. I cannot encourage this kind of first impression.

When I pull you out of my purse and we are anywhere but our private quarters, be the jewel at my side that only makes me appear to shine even brighter in the afternoon’s warm sunlight!

You must not point and snicker at people on the bus even if they smell, are fat or have absolutely no sense of fashion. Not all of God’s creatures can be as color coordinated and adorable as you are, my love. Compliments aside I will raise my hand to your behind again if I need to.

Signed with love & longing…

Matilda Queen of the Universe. xxx

P.S. I have laid your pajama out on the couch. I need a bit of time alone to get my head straight.

P.P.S. Don’t try to win me back by doing that, thing you do. I’m officially immune to your advances.

From Pete to Matilda Queen of the Universe:

Touché my dear, touché. I am guilty and therefore deserve any form of abuse you may see fit. I often find myself thinking about how much better I am than everyone else which unfortunately provokes inappropriate laughter in public. Why should I mute any part of myself just to be socially acceptable in a clearly corrupt society?

While we are on the topic of keeping up appearances, a little eyeliner would be a good idea. If I can find a way to look this cute in every type of lighting, you can invest in some long-wear lipstick to spice up our sex life.  I’d die to see how long it will take to wipe those red rings off my privates…

See what you do to me? Now I’m all riled up on the bus and you’re not even here so I could do something about it. All I have to distract me is the overwhelming stench of body odour and I think someone shit themselves – I can’t tell which direction the smell is coming from…The subway is delayed again & this bitch is due for a caffeine fix.  It’s about to get nasty in here!

A fat woman, who clearly doesn’t own a mirror, keeps pushing me and playing with her phone. If I don’t ever see you again because she fell and I got crushed, remember you, my little skin tag, were roughly the best samba under the sheets I ever had. Shave your mustache and get that ass in the air baby, papa’s throwing down some old people and coming straight home.

Pete

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F.

 

Childhood Monster

Most kids are afraid of monsters that live under their bed or inside their closet, I was afraid of the one living in my chest. His growls, whistles and wheezing have kept me up many nights and without a doubt have made me very, very afraid. A little boy walked into the hole in the wall where B. and I were having breakfast in Delhi, accompanied by his parents. He stood out to me among the early morning ramblings and the sound of hurried spoons hitting the colorfully stuffed, tin plates. His drawn little face told a story of eyes that had seen too much and a young soul that was already overburdened. He wore a hep-lock on his hand and had recently been receiving some form of treatment. The restaurant went quiet for a moment and I couldn’t help but stare as the tears started streaming uncontrollably down my face. They were all still there. The nightmarish memories I had tucked away somewhere. Intensive Care, hospital buddies that never returned, the smallest bald heads and fearing I was going to lose my hair too…I don’t think I ever really understood why some kids never came back,  it just made me really sad not to ever get to see them again. Round little angelic moon faces, puffed up from medication, missed holidays and being sick on your birthday too.  If you’re loved, nights in the hospital include someone caring for you sitting uncomfortably at the edge of your bed.  They are there to bring you everything and anything, trying to find a way to make you better, never giving up even when there’s no solution but waiting.  For me, it was my mom. Holding my hand at all hours, taking my fear away and making me feel like this terrifying, unfamiliar room was somehow a little bit safe at least for this one moment.  She would always be sitting there awake even when her eyes were closed, just in case I would wake up. In the end, love will always conquer every single scary monster….

F.

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Lucid Dreams in Ubud.

We turned the corner. “It should be down there.  Wait a minute the book doesn’t say this is here.” Before we could figure out what had happened, the decrepit alleyway magically opened up to a palace from our dreams, it unfastened its golden doors and let us in.  The room was overflowing with this wonderful feeling of love.  A light appeared in the center of the golden space, it grew bigger and more soothing, entranced we fell to our knees.  It told us that everything was going to be alright, that our journey will have its ups and downs but our love will keep us from falling apart.  There was a deafening silence through the horns and motorbikes whizzing by all around, it allowed us, if only for a moment, to see clearly from our other eye.  “It’s here,” I said with a smile under my breath, “right here.”  But before I could say it out loud, the palace vanished without a trace and that warm glow that brought us to our knees transcended through us.  We looked at each other in disbelief.  From that moment we both knew this is where we needed to be, right here in the middle of this beautiful place, right here with each other and no one else.

B.