My Grama use to say that everybody has their

My Grama use to say that everybody has their peckel, which means their own grief to carry throughout their lives. No body gets through without something to carry. Well, this is my peckel . One that I hadn't expected, but who knew "It" was coming. I will do my very best to fight with courage, bravery and humor as I carry my peckel the rest of my days. I will work on visualizing healing it with my own willfullness....

Thanks, Grama for explaining it to me.

Lord knows you had your own peckel and demonstrated how to cope as my role model.

I think of you and my Mother pushing me on daily...

My husband is...

My husband is so supportive-- I can only imagine how hard it is for him.

I can't do as much as I use to, I slow down the pace.

Sometimes I just push on through on the weekend and then catch up on Monday by resting.

I couldn't manage without his loving support and his medical advice to keep trying different things or different ways.

Just keep trying, Nicki....

Remembering those who never compalined...

Remembering those who never complained and were dealt stiff blows in their lives helps me to cope with my issues. My mother's Cousin Teda who had polio comes to mind. She spent a lot of her childhood in bed, didn't get to play like the other kids. She walked with a limp her whole life and was very much discriminated against because she had a disability. I am not sure of the story, but since she had this disability she was fixed up to marry a man who had issues too. But, Teda make her life into merry, making her lemons into lemonade.

In later years, she lost her son in his 30s, a man with a young family and his whole life a head of him.

She carried on.

When I think of Teda, I think of someone who always faced whatever life through at her, never complaining, always joyful for you.

Thanks, Teda. You are one of my wonderful role models to guide me through my life.

When I take my glasses off sometimes....

When I take my glasses off sometimes it reminds me of seeing the piles of glasses that the Nazis collected from my people as they waited to be gassed or sent to work details during WW2.

How cruel, how inhumane.

If I had to give up my glasses when I am so dependent on them, how dehumanizing.

How difficult to see, not that you wanted to see....

Could this have possibly been done to humans by other humans?

I can't always find the Tawanda in me...

I can't always find the Tawanda in me. I saw a movie years ago called Fried Green Tomatoes and the middle aged women turns from meek and mild mannered into a Tawanda kind of girl.

No longer afraid of conquering her fears, opening herself up to making the most of her life.

I believe in this philosophy, but I can't always find the Tawanda in me...

My eyes have seen...

My eyes are multi-talented...

Sometimes they are prism eyes, some times kaleidoscope eyes, blurry, double, dance, jump.

They also like to converge for fun, ghost images.

They are multi-tasking all the time.

Well, maybe they are ballerina eyes, twisting , turning, spinning.

I just follow their lead .

Just thankful that I can see. Even though it might be what I call sometimes as creative seeing.

It works.

Thank you G-d....

I think I invented twittering!

Since my left eye twitters all the time and my right ear has ringing in it the only thing I can do is joke about.

So, I decided to tell everyone that I invented twittering way before those computer geeks did.

I also receive Morse code from my right ear , not all the time, but a lot of the times!

Humor, you are my friend!