Birthdays and Valentines

There are two days of the year that I celebrate and dote on myself. First is my birthday and second is Valentine's Day. It works out perfect because the two events are six months apart. So I treat myself and make time for me at least twice a year. Now that I'm single - I treat myself way more than twice a year. My next "treat" will be buying a house.... all.by.myself. It scares me but at the same time, I should have BEEN done it a long time ago. I remember when I was separated from my first husband, my mother begging me to buy a house. If I had known then what I know now, I would have listened to her. She was so wise! Miss you mom!!

While most people celebrate their birth DAY. I celebrate for all of the Leo Zodiac season -- July 22nd to August 22nd. I take an entire month to celebrate me. Of course there are tons of people who are also in celebration with me because a lot of what I do is orchestrated by my family and friends. I am so grateful to be surrounded by so much love and such a strong support system. I cannot express enough gratitude for all the people in my life.

I turned 42 last August. One of the highlights of Leo Season was ziplining at Keana Farms. The exhilaration of flying through the air with just some rope and pulleys preventing me from falling to my death was an amazing experience. And to share the experience with my two oldest nieces just brought me so much happiness. I told myself when I was in my 20's that when I turned 40 I would go skydiving. That didn't happen because my husband at the time (now my ex) said that it was an unnecessary risk. Now that I have the freedom to choose my destiny, I just might put skydiving back on my bucket list.




Valentine's Day is coming up. I just the love the idea of celebrating love and romance. You can do a google search and see that it has a sordid past but all I care about is how I celebrate now. The way people say there's a special feeling in the air during Christmas - that's how I feel about Valentines. I love walking into stores and seeing all the reds and pinks, the hearts and the chocolates, the lace and the satin, and the flowers. Oh my goodness I love seeing the flowers. One can never go wrong by sending me flowers.

Maybe the chic flicks have done me in where I just might have an unrealistic expectation of romance. I think it's healthy to dream and fantasize about being swept off my feet by a handsome, kind, and generous man. It keeps the visual in my mind of what I want in a partner. It is not a secret that my heart has been broken before. Heck, everyone's heart has been broken before but I do not let it stop me from seeking out love again. I am not a bitter woman and I am beginning to think that my trail of broken hearts are actually helping to break me wide open, forcing me to fulfill my potential.

This Valentines I want what I want every Valentines:
***A handwritten love letter where he writes his truest feelings about me - why he loves me and specific examples of what he loves most about me. I don't think men know the power of "specific examples". Every woman wants to hear the whens and the whys. I thrive on it. My first love told me, "When I looked in your eyes, there was nothing fake there. You didn't shake my gaze and I could see inside you." We always had a special connection and some days I really miss it. Even though he ended up breaking my heart, I know that if we were to have a go at it a second time, it just might be the right time. But that is not in cards as he is very married.

***Red Roses delivered to my office - I don't know why this makes me happy but it does. Receiving flowers at my office from anyone is such a thrill. I am not a materialistic person at all so the lavish gifts of jewelry is nice but I rather have something that took some thought, which is why I love handwritten letters. And the roses? Well, I just love red roses. The deep red is so gorgeous to me and it just screams LOVE.

In high school there used to be "candy-grams" during Valentines. I never got one but I loved the anticipation and wondering if someone would send me one. I still get that feeling leading up to Valentines, wondering if someone is going to send me something, hoping that the one I am thinking of is going to be thinking of me too. When Valentines Day arrives and the day is almost over and I have received nothing, I don't fret. I go out and treat myself to something nice - maybe a shopping trip for a new outfit or some new shoes. I might take in a movie or hit the spa. There is no time to be sad over things out of my control. So even if I don't have a Valentine this year, I will still treat myself to something nice - the day AFTER Valentines when everything is half off.

Quick "Vase Bouquet" Picture Tutorial

I had leftover flowers from a floral job I just did. This is what I do with the leftover flowers and foliage.

'Awapuhi Memory

My mother would have been 65 this year. As the years move on past the day she departed, I long to hear her voices and I wish so hard that I had taken the time to talk to her more about her childhood. I wish I made it a point for us to travel to Samoa together when she was healthy. I know she would not want me to live with regrets so I don't. When I see her again we will speak as if we had never known any time or distance.

I went to her grave site to place some artificial flowers there. My father had already placed fresh flowers from Mother's Day and Memorial Day and we have artificial purple hydrangeas there. Purple was her favorite color. In the last years of her life, my mother made me promise that her funeral would have lots of flowers. I carried that request over. My only wish is that I had bought her flowers while she was alive.

The morning of the day she passed away, my mother woke up just before I left for work. Usually, when I would leave for work, I would look in on her to let her know my schedule for the day. She was usually still asleep and would not rise until after 9am. That morning, she was rushing to get outside and into the yard while I was getting ready for work. I was running late that morning and my ride was waiting on me in the driveway. As I was getting into her van, my mother came running to me from the side of the house. Running, as in wobbling. My mother had broken her leg several years ago and the screws in her knee made it difficult for her to get around. In her hands were stalks of white 'awapuhi ginger that she had cut from her flower patch. The smell of the 'awapuhi will always remind me of her.

She says, "Babe, here," as she attempts to hand me the stalks of ginger.

"Get a vase from the wash room and put this in your office."

In my rush to get to work and my impatience with the disruption of doing that, I tell her that I'm running late and I have to get to work. "Tomorrow," I say. "I'll take it tomorrow."

I will never forget that interaction. As I write this, I tear up thinking about moments like these.

My mother grew up in Samoa. She did not have indoor plumbing until she was well into her teen years and ready to leave home. They preferred cooking in the umu (google "umu samoa") or over an open fire. I think it is that upbringing that made her hold on to 'stuff' even if we had no immediate use for the 'stuff'. I always scolded her about hoarding things (sorry Mom for being so cheeky). Take these urns, for instance, in the pictures; these urns sat around the house for years. She had purchased them a long time ago to make floral arrangements for my great-grandmother's grave and my grand-aunt and my great-grandfather's and another aunt's grave. I hassled her constantly about getting rid of them because they were taking up space under the bathroom counter. She fussed at me for being so wasteful. I fussed back! She never did get around to using them and I'm glad because now they adorn her grave.