This one's for you Meg!

 
UNWRITTEN by NATASHA BEDINGFIELD

I love you Meghan Lorraine!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sneak Peek...

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. 

THE EMPTY SMILE

     She prepared the salad while he finished seasoning the meat.  Though they still struggled to understand each other’s language, their days together were jovial and compatible.  Even with limited conversation they were content side by side in their new life together.  Tonight though, she hoped to make their meal a little more special by setting a candlelit table for him.

     The candles had been hard to find, but she had persisted; walking from store to store through the little city until she found two that would work.  It was unclear to her why most of the merchants sold only white utility candles.  It  had been hours in to her search before she finally spotted two, dust covered, pink candles on a back shelf. Pink was not the color she had imagined for her centerpiece but, she reasoned, the actual candles would not show much if she surrounded them with fresh fruits and flowers. 

     She smiled now as she surveyed the arrangement on the center of their table, satisfied with its appearance.   She peeked back in the kitchen and knew from a nod of his head that the meal was almost ready.  Scurrying ahead she darkened the dining room, quickly lit the candles, and waited for him to join her.  

      “Zemra – Ha” he called to her as he carried full plates from the kitchen.  “My love – eat,” she silently translated as she glanced one more time at the flickering candles.

     He paused in the doorway, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but she sensed something else lingering within him.  He moved forward, set each plate on the table, kissed her on the forehead, and produced a smile – an empty smile.  His lips curved upward and he tilted his head in approval but there was no intensity to either.  

     She watched him with confusion as he took his seat.  She studied his lips - the empty smile planted there; a courtesy smile extended for her efforts.  For some reason the candles had been a mistake.   

     They began eating; exchanging what few words they both understood about the events of the day.  Yet, underneath he remained agitated and unsettled.  Her frustration grew - not only with disappointment, but with her inability to speak enough of his language to ask what was troubling him.  When she felt the threatening sting of tears well in her eyes she stood up from the table, blew out the candles, and turned on the bright ceiling lights.

     He looked to her then, took both of her hands in his and kissed them noisily and with fervor. A sparkle returned to his eyes breathing warmth back in to his smile, a real and full smile now.  He sat back in his chair, more relaxed, and poured them each a little more wine.  

     Then, with broken words, hand gestures, and drawings he began to tell her a part of his history.  He told her how, in this country, the fall of communism was followed by a prolonged struggle to rebuild without it.  He told her how he, like many others, carried the memory of hard, fearful nights eating only by the light of a utility candle.  

     He spoke until she understood.  It was not a treat or romantic notion for him to share a candlelit meal with her.  He knew from films that such things were considered special in her world and he would do anything to please her.  But for him, dinner by candle light brought only the reminder of a bitter time now past, a time when men could not provide electricity for their families, and a time he hoped never to experience again.  

     For the rest of her life, if someone watched her closely, they would notice a slight hesitation every time she reached to turn out a light.

        

   
Morning Has Broken
Cat Stevens/Yusaf Islam

Hideeho Folks,

Well, what can I say?  There I was just dangling with my rope off the face of the earth when I spotted something special.  Then, just as I reached out to touch it, a blustery wind scooped me up for a little ride.

I'll backtrack a bit and then get on to the business of writing.

This past winter I traveled to Albania to start building a life with my someone special, Landi Bregu.  Our plans were to travel together for a few days, visit with family, and then return to the good old USA.
      
(Landi and Janelle Bregu ~ Pogradec, Albania)

Ahhh, but then came the blustery wind...

Shortly before I arrived we received news that Landi's mother had suffered a severe stroke.  On Christmas Day, God took her home.  While I never really got a chance to know Rubie (pronounced Rubia), her greatness is evident in those she left behind.  She is loved and missed by many.

        
(Rubie as a young woman/husband Hajri, Rubie in recent years, Rubie with some family members)

Those of you who have followed my work know that this situation is not new to me.  I have written about the loss of my own mother in "The Catalyst", and the important role my Grandmother Martha Hagaman filled in her absence.  I have written in this blog about the loss of my step-mother Betty Wolf and just this past August my children lost their own wonderful Grandmother, Bev Hreha.

What was new to me, heartbreakingly new to me, was my complete ineptness at being able
to provide comfort to my new family.  While people may be the same all around the world, customs and traditions, especially in such tragic situations, are not.  Besides the language barrier (very few people speak English in Berat), an Albanian funeral has so many customs that are not only different, but opposite of what is experienced in the USA or Europe.  I sincerely thank the warm-hearted people of Berat, especially Leta, for holding my hand through it all and generously forgiving my mistakes.

As is tradition in Albania, our family observed forty (40) days as a period of mourning for Rubie.  Of course mourning continues past this time, but it is custom for the family to wear black, men often will not shave, and there is to be no music or dancing.  As my readers know, this entire blog is centered around music so it became a period for me to set aside my blog writing.  

This also meant that Landi and I needed to postpone our wedding but I am happy to report that we were married in February, 2010.  We are now busy restoring a villa in Berat, working on property in Florida, transitioning and merging families, and, of course,  I continue to try to make practical sense of the new Healthcare Reform Legislation.
    
(The first picture is at the courthouse where we finally received our marriage certificate.  During the 1997 uprising the Berat courthouse was set on fire so obtaining documents can be incredibly difficult.  The second picture is of our small wedding meal with immediate family including from left Sofika, Bardha, Marsida, Gerti, Ilir, Hajri, Janelle, Landi, and Eduart

Oh my friends! There is so much I have to share and I believe my readers will enjoy experiencing a truly unique journey through the characters in my upcoming novel.  I have finished compiling the research and will keep you updated on a release date.  

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Now, back to my title, "A Couple Cups of Coffee".  

Reflecting on it all, I guess somewhere in God's great plan, He chooses and knows the best time to take all of us home.  I can't do anything about that, but I can try to honor those taken by caring for the people they nurtured so well here on earth.  It is a daunting task, but when I feel lost, unsure, or scared I pull out a couple cups, pour a little coffee in each one, and sit down for a chat.  For those few  moments I not only remember each of them, but pray they pass on just a little of their wisdom and strength to see me through. 

These moments are peaceful for me.  They give my mind a chance to unwind and my heart a few moments of closeness with each of them.  

That is, until my cup of coffee is empty. 

Then the time comes, as it always comes, when I must accept each cup is still full, untouched by lips of this world.  It is a sad moment for me but one well worth enduring as I gently dump out the coffee and move foward with my day.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

p.s.  I chose the song "Morning Has Broken" by Cat Stevens/Yusaf Islam because we have just finished celebrating Easter all around the world.  Spring is here!  In addition, there are many misunderstandings about religion in Albania.  It is difficult to comprehend a country in where no religion exists, but such was the case in Albania during its fifty (50) years under communistic rule.  Now Albania has families where one member practices Christianity while another the Muslim faith...and yet, they all happily sit around the table together.  Oh if only people all around the world could follow such an example!  "Morning Has Broken" was very popular in the Catholic Churches of my youth, but I am sure the words are just as poignant to those who celebrate the Muslim faith with Yusaf today.  

I want to send a special thank you to my husband Landi, my Father-in-law Hajri, and step-son Gerti for accompanying me to Easter Mass at St. Marie's Catholic Church in Tirana.  It was a special day for me.

...now back stateside for Healthcare reform etc. etc. etc.

Have a great week folks and thanks for reading!

Janelle Marie Bregu 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

        

                                                                                            
                                                                                       DANIEL POWTER ~ BAD DAY

Recently I had a very bad day.  I don't have too many bad days so when I do they tend to be really bad.  Now, however, I am so thankful for my bad day.  I don't know how I ever expected a white knight to come save the day if I never had a bad one.    The video and song say it all.

I'm sorry for not keeping up with my blogging but I have been buried in research for my upcoming novel.  Thanks to all of you who keep in contact and keep checking back.  I think the work and wait will be worth it!

Have a great week folks.

        

                                                                                    
                                                        THE WHO ~ BEHIND BLUE EYES


It is always difficult when my characters decide it's time to write the last chapter and close the book. 

        

                                                                        

                         Frank Zappa ~ Dancing Fool
                                                                                                                                         

My children (and a few other brave souls)  will tease me that I can never say the words "I'm wr...wrro...wrrroo...wrrrrooon...wrrrrroooonn...wrrrooonnngggg.  I like to answer that charge by saying I am wrong all the time, but choose not to open my mouth unless I know I'm right. 

I know, I know, a very cheeky thing to say but still fun to watch people spit out coffee when I say it...

Anyhow, just for kicks I will say this:

"i-may-be-totally-wrong-but-I'm-a..."


                                                                                    
                                                    DANCING FOOL

Thanks Frank for the inspiration. 

Have some fun this week folks!.

        

                                                                                
                                                                                UP UP AND AWAY...

Hideeho Folks - its good to be back.

One day, when my girls were very young, we went to a local street festival.  We stopped at a vendor’s booth where they were each given a balloon.   I tied a balloon on each of their wrists and enjoyed watching them gleefully bounce them up and down.

When we arrived back home, my girls wanted to play in the back yard, but didn’t want to lose their balloons.  So I carefully untied each balloon, one yellow and one pink, and watched as they floated safely to the ceiling of our back porch.  

I suppose it was inevitable that my girls would eventually want to involve the balloons in their play. Before I knew it, I had two little girls, tears streaming down their faces, their little bodies jumping up and down, four tiny hands stretched to the sky - all in the futile attempt to bring their balloons back to earth.

I think one of the saddest faces in the world is that of a child who has lost their balloon for the very first time.

I gathered both girls in my arms, kissed away the tears, and quickly told them to wave their balloons on to their Grandma Lorraine in heaven.  While it didn’t get their balloons back, it did take away just a little of the sadness in their faces, gave them a connection to their Grandma Lorraine, and was a nice way to move beyond the lost balloons.

That was about eighteen years ago and many balloons have been lost since.  My son was born five years after the girls and by the time he lost his first balloon we had all become experts at waving balloons on a safe journey to heaven.

But for me, one of the best parts to this balloon story has always been how much my children’s living Grandma enjoyed it.  In fact, Grandma Bev (or as they proudly called her “Techno-Grandma” since she enjoyed and excelled at playing their video games) embraced not only this story, but so much more.  She was the only other person who knew exactly what to do if my children lost a balloon, a tooth, a favorite toy, homework, a boyfriend/girlfriend, Mom’s car (ahem), and so much more. 

My children unexpectedly lost their Grandma Bev this past month.  As they began processing this overwhelming loss, I helplessly watched the great sadness return to their beautiful faces, something I honestly had not seen since the loss of their first balloon. 

It is always humbling and heartbreaking to realize there are hurts I will not be able to take away for my children.  I am not sure what will remove the great sadness from their faces, but maybe, just maybe, sending a few cyber balloons up to Grandma Bev will help us all figure it out.  I think she would like that.

                                                                               

                                                     THE FIFTH DIMENSION ~ UP, UP, AND AWAY...

 

Have a great week folks – trying to get my writing mojo back.

SIDENOTE:  No birds were hurt in the writing of this story. Please never intentionally send a balloon up in the sky.  If they don’t make it all the way to heaven a bird could accidentally choke on it. 

                                                                                     

 

REST IN PEACE:  I also lost a great friend this week, Keith Cummins. We were internet friends but I was so thrilled to have actually met him and his wife last summer.  Keith gave me one of the best lines to help persevere through difficult times…”Any day above ground is a good one…”  Rest in Peace my friend… Thoughts and prayers to his wife Karrol and a few cyber balloons as well.

              

        

                                                                               
                                   Can you believe it - me with a parasol?  A special thanks to Lucy for snapping the pic!

I have seen parasols many times. 

In Asia I saw dainty women carrying them to block the hot sun. 

From movies I know there was a time when every proper lady carried a parasol - and knew how to hold it just so...

Once, I even attended a performance dedicated to the art of twirling and dancing with magnificently colored parasols. 

But never, not once, have I ever thought of using one myself.

There are valid reasons for this. 

First, it can be difficult for me to remember simple accessories such as an umbrella when it's raining or a beach towel when I go to the beach.  Coordinating a parasol (I have been told you should have different colors to match each outfit) was not something I have ever felt capable of doing.

Second, if I'm in a hurry it is best that my hands are free of all objects that can swing, flip, roll, or otherwise accidently fling on some unsuspecting person passing my way. 

Third, I thought the parasol was just an accessory, something to be used for decoration or dance props.  I never had a need for one.

Well, now I have learned the real value of the parasol.  My life before I fell off the face of the earth was a bit sheltered - literally.  I will never take the precious gift of shade from a tree or a building or a...a...a... parasol for granted again!  

And as for dangerous objects in my hands - well most people seem more afraid of my overheated brain than any object accidently flying their way...

~     ~     ~

I am learning a new language as well and want to send a special shout out to my tutor, Lola, who has the patience, persistence, and perfectionism I need to accomplish such a task.  But soon, for the fun of it, I think I will try out this word on her and see what she does with me. 

                                                                                               
                                                                                  Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious


Side Note:  Take a look at some of the parasol dancing Julie Andrews does in this scene.  Maybe I'll try a few steps when it gets a little cooler...

Soon I will be highlighting some of the incredible people and places I have found here...  

Have a great week folks!

        

This week, just kiddie corner from where I am, a woman took her own life.  I did not know her, although I may have nodded a quick hello once or twice.

Regardless, such a tragic event has a way of imposing great sadness on a neighborhood.  Cars putter where they once whisked by, all the bright summer clothes disappear, and everyone walks with just a little less bounce to their step.

I did not know this woman, and now I never will - a missed opportunity to be sure.  But if I had, if I had known of her desperation, I would have gotten out of the car and walked with her.  Watch to the end of the video and you'll understand.  

                                                                            
                                                              REM -~ Everybody Hurts

Side Note:  I've had some interesting theological discussions this week.  After sifting through it all I know only this:   

Every time I have thought God sent someone to me for help, repair, or guidance it has turned out to be the other way around.

It may be something for others to consider as well...

Gotta keep my heart, mind, and (most importantly) my ears open.

Have a peaceful week folks.

        

                                                                                    
                                                            The Cactus Cuties ~ The Star Spangled Banner

Happy Fourth of July Everyone!  

As a wanderer, it is interesting to see which things have made it through my numerous moves.  The one item that has made it through all my travels and relocations is the tenor saxaphone my parents bought when I was in the fifth grade.  I'm sure a key chain or something would be a lot easier to carry around from sea to shining sea, but I don't think we get to pick which items will withstand the test of time. 

I think , however, that this performance of our National Anthem by The Cactus Cuties will also withstand the test of time and be considered a national treasure for years to come.  As we celebrate another Fourth of July, I could find no other performance that inspires me more.  The introductory message from one of our precious marines just makes it all that more special.

God grant all Americans the wisdom and strength to insure the USA stands the test of time as well!  "Yes we can..."


Have a relaxing, safe, and memorable holiday!

        

                                                                                 
                                                                                  MORPHINE ~ FRENCH FRIES WITH PEPPER

There are some challenges to dangling off the face of the earth.  One of them is that no one is 100% sure about the water.  When you first arrive it is recommended that you boil or buy bottled water whenever possible.

Every house or establishment has a very handy kettle thingamabob for just this purpose.  I have learned to use it well.  

My challenge presented itself when I decided to make my own salad and didn't have any bottled water available.  I didn't want to walk in to town to buy some, so, I looked at the nice little kettle and just boiled up a batch of fresh water to rinse off my lettuce. 

Just so you know...if you don't let the boiling water cool down before pouring it over fresh lettuce you will have cooked lettuce pasted to the bottom of the colander.

I had to make a trip in to town after all...

Of course, I probably should have just settled in at a nice café and enjoyed some french fries with pepper...

                                                                                 
                                                                                  MORPHINE ~ FRENCH FRIES WITH PEPPER