Life, death and Recycling… Where does the soul go after death? Thoughts and Questionings…

As I continue to fight for a proper diagnosis of the unbearable pain and swelling of my right wrist, and fight a health care system which seem to work against common sense, I am meditating on death and dying more than ever before… as I perceive it as a clear possibility as the “system” keeps sending me for more tests and no treatment is performed because of ridiculous protocols imposed by the health insurance companies!

The winter is approaching fast and all plants in my garden are already either hibernating or they died forever.

Perennials, berries and rose bushes, will come back in the Spring. Not so with some of the herbs and annual flowers. I will have to buy fresh ones in the Spring. What that tells me on a metaphorical level, is that the strong survives. Why some plants die and some take a break and come back renewed? ALL SEEMS TO BE A CYCLE! Am I a perennial or an annual?

Are we, humans, also part of a cycle? “Dust to dust?” Where does the “essence of us,” what we call “souls,” go after death?

How do you imagine Heaven? Do we go to be with Jesus, if we are Christians? How does happen exactly?

Is there a place called Hell? Who goes there?

I wish y Faith were strong enough for me to not question where will my Soul go, but I DO QUESTION!

I immagine the essence of us travels to a different level of consciousness. I have NO VISUAL OF IT, but I wonder if some souls return on Earth and some don’t…just like flowers…

I am trying to study in depth The Bible, which is not one book, but many. Probably, if the Bible were the ONLY book left on Earth, a life time will not be enough to understand its many levels and metaphors.

I have not studied the Hindu concept of reincarnation in depth, however I do wonder if our souls come back on Earth in different forms…

As I am fighting for a proper diagnosis and treatment, unwillingly forced to follow medical protocols imposed by the insurance companies, I wonder about death!

The system is designed so that if a case does NOT FIT a PROTOCOL, designed by the health insurance companies, that case doesn’t exist! Despite all my doctors’ efforts to diagnose and treat me, I am getting worse, when I know a course of IV antibiotics will cure me!
IF the doctors could treat me based on my medical history, and clinical observation. To LOOK and SEE MY HAND!!!
It seems that is not possible! I am wondering if I will end up dead when it would be so easy to stay alive and be well if treated with IV antibiotics!!

The war against antibiotics has gone too far! I have a clear infection in my right wrist, but because it presents atypical, and doesn’t fit the “cookie cutter” of “protocols,” I am not properly treated! In fact I am not treated at all. Instead I go for more tests and blood work.

Where will my soul go?

I opt for incineration. To turn to ashes the box in which I suffered so much, fought so much and it seems I am loosing the battle despite my desperate efforts to stay alive! To die of an untreated infection in the 21st century, in America because it doesn’t fit the “protocols” imposed by the health care system! How unreal, yet real is this, but IT IS HAPPENING TO ME!!!

I am about to purchase a GREEN URN. I wish my ashes placed with a tree seed and planted in a peaceful place where there are no health insurance companies, no ridiculous medical protocols designed to kill people slowly, while sending them for more tests, and where there is common sense and unconditional love!
Hmm… is there such a place, or did the greed for money corrupt and invade every corner of our Earth?

I continue to mediate and wonder, where my soul will go…
Where will yours?

Dog Ate My Homework Is NOT A Myth!!! Anxiety in Dogs! Please Share Your Tips!

... And Duke the anxious

… And Duke the anxious

... And Duke the anxious

… And Duke the anxious

Dog ate my homework, the phrase which commonly describes a lie, turned out to be true for me…

How does anxiety manifest in dogs?

I’ve had Duke since 2009. Before I rescued him he tried at least three other homes and it didn’t work out! He was around one and a half years old at the time. He was already scarred by unknown events that happened in his life prior to being rescued.
In the beginning, when Kim, his foster mom, told me he was in the habit of running away I could not imagine … Until he jumped over my fence and I lost him, and found him a couple of times, until I understood that he needed special attention.

Why was he running away? Was he expecting a better home elsewhere? I will never know.

Duke no longer manifests his anxiety by running away. The bonding between us is so strong that when I leave the house he probably wonders if I’m coming back, or is he abandoned again… At least this is my explanation as to why he ate my homework!!!

I have a routine before I leave my companion pets alone: they go out, I prepare treats for everyone, including a nut for my African Grey parrot, I turn on the radio for them and I reassure them, just as I did with my kids, that “mommy always comes back.” The routine is designed to ease potential anxiety. Sometimes I leave the TV on and diffuse in the air the scent of lavender, known for its calming effects.

And yet, yesterday it didn’t work!!! Duke ate my homework! Literally, a box in which I had stored some of my most valued college papers. He opened the door to the room where I had all my files stored, and this picture illustrates how my office looked when I came back home.

Since there are always many ways to look at events in our lives, the good and the bad, the bright side of what happened is that now I will be forced to really organize my file cabinet, but not today…

If you have any other TIPS on how to deal with soothing pets’

Duke The Angel

Duke The Angel

anxiety, please share with us.

Meanwhile, I will continue to love Duke even if he truly ate my homework!!!

Natural Help for Arthritis. The Magi brought at Jesus’ Birth,Gold, Frankincense an Myrrh, Common Gifts to Bring to a Royal or Divine…but What Else Do They Have In Common??? Could it be their Anti-inflammatory effect And Cure For Arthritis?

I first wrote and shared this article on February 2, 2014, regarding natural remedies for arthritis in Biblical times .

At the time, I thought it was amazing that Frankincense, myrrh and gold, the three gifts brought by The Three Wise Men for Jesus’ Birthday were all natural anti inflammatories and helped in the treatment of arthritis.

Recently, I mentioned to my niece, Suzanne Liggett, an expert in essential oils and aroma therapy, that Lola, my dearest dog, suffered from seizures. Suzanne suggested the essential oil of Frankincense as excellent for her condition. I hold a certification in Aroma Therapy, yet, I did not know about frankincense’s use in the treatment of seizures. Proof that one could ALWAYS learn more!
It is awesome to continue to learn, especially from someone I love and whom I witnessed growing up and becoming an incredible young woman. Thank you!

RE-POST — article of 02/11/2014

The Magi brought at Jesus' Birth,Gold, Frankincense an Myrrh, Common Gifts to Bring to a Royal or Divine…but What Else Do They Gave In Common??? Could it be their Anti-inflammatory effect And Cure For Arthritis?.

Netflix Movie Review- Overlooked Treasures: THE ICEMAN

The Iceman,” is a 2013 production starring Michael Shannon and Winona Ryder.

It is based on a true story and it follows the life of Richard Kuklinski, who between 1964-1986 killed over a hundred people. Some of his victims at the order of The Mob and others for his own pleasure. He is “The Iceman.”

There are several memorable scenes and lines but the scene which I recall, and which will haunt me forever is a dialogue between The Iceman and one of his targets. The victim begs him for mercy in God’s name. Calmly, the Iceman, checks his watch and says: ” You think if you pray God will help you? Fine! You have five minutes!”

The victim prays so hard, my heart is racing and am almost sure a miracle will take place! The acting is superb, for an instance I forget it’s a movie and and what happens is at the mercy of the writer…

In the next scene, the Iceman looks at his watch and says:
“It’s over! I guess God is Busy!”

He shoots the victim!
I am heartbroken but continue to watch, of course!

This is just one of the many memorable scenes but what makes the movie unique overall, is the reminder that there are people who live double lives. It doesn’t teach us distrust, but caution.

Before I give it all away, here’s what is written on Kuklinski’s tombstone:

Loving husband
Devoted father
Ruthless killer


Great story
Amazing acting
Worth watching!

Grandmother’s Garden

Childhood memories, our grandmothers, the love of our families in the first years of life… Are they important?

I never thought of it and how fortunate I was to have and know my grandmother. Of course, it would have been ideal to also know my grandmother on my father’s side and my grandfathers, but they were no longer with us, as my mother vaguely explained every time I asked. My mother had a way with words and not answering my questions, so what I learned from her was to tell my children about my life and theirs in early childhood, when a foundation of trust, self esteem and feeling love and connection to our families, our origins start to develop.

Only when we no longer have something we notice how much it meant to us. I often wondered about the feelings of children who had no grandparents… They didn’t know how it felt to connect and be unconditionally loved by a grandmother, which is a unique, special kind of love, different than any other. I felt sad for them, but at the same time the thought made me write this post which is dedicated to MY GRANDMOTHER, my mother’s Mom.

She lived in Iasi, a good seven-hour train ride from Bucharest, the capital of Romania, where we lived. We, meaning my mother, father and myself. Distance didn’t seem to be a problem and beside my grandmother visiting us in Bucharest, what I remember and treasure the most are the times I spent in Iasi with her and my aunt, my mother’s sister who lived with grandmother and her husband. My grandfather, as I mentioned before, was another “mistery,” he was not with us…he was dead.

My grandmother’s house was different than anything I knew existed. Odd things, such as there was no bathroom in the house and we had to walk all the way to the back of the yard to a very disgusting sort of toilet. Such as not having running water, and going with my uncle to get two big buckets of water from the public well, which was a good mile away from our house. But these trips were fun, the walking down an unpaved, dust road, the stopping to chat with friendly neighbors.

The memories of the times that stayed with me and gave me strength through the years are the little important things: my grandmother’s love and thoughtfulness expressed in little gestures, far more significant than having running water and a toilet inside the home.

Her house was small, but cozy and comfortable. The back yard was what to me was a Paradise: flowers, trees, herbs, even grapes I was picking off the wine. My favorite tree was a very old walnut under which I spent many days trying to train my pet, a chicken named Fairy (Zinica). I baptized her, with rain water because I feared when she left the Earth she’ll go to Hell if she wasn’t Christened.

Memories of roses…
Every morning, as I woke up, before opening my eyes, I smelled a rose. Every morning, my grandmother took the time to cut a fresh rose and put it on my pillow to wake me up in a good mood. To this day, all it takes to change my mood to happy is to smell a rose…
Well… she was also a great cook and baker, so the smell of freshly baked goods is also something that brings up good memories.

I often wondered why are smells so important and why a smell brings up in us instant memories and emotions?

I researched our five senses (if you ask me, they are six) and learned that of all senses the ONLY one that goes to our limbic system in the brain, which is the oldest and connected to memories and emotions, is THE SENSE OF SMELL!
The sense of smell, unlike the others, which travel straight to a part of the brain called “thalamus,” which works like a switchboard in our brain, and re-distributes our senses signals to various parts of the brain, therefore our being conscious of them is not immediate, as it is with the sense of smell.
This is why, the conscious processing of smells is immediate, before it reaches the consciousness of the odor.

The importance of context.

Let’s say my grandmother lived on a farm and the predominant smell was horse manure. Probably, my good memories would be triggered by that smell. Thank God she woke me up with the smell of roses and freshly baked cookies.

I learned from my grandmother many values which made my solid foundation, which carried me through the ups and downs of life.

I remember she always told the truth and sometimes it hurt, yet she always chose to tell it as it was…

This reminds me of an incident, and that it was not always “the smell of roses.”

The Farmer’s Market was at the bottom of a steep hill and grandmother’s house all the way up, at the top.

My aunt and I went to the market. My aunt was a heavy set woman, who walked up the hill with difficulty. She gave me to carry a sac of potatoes. Probably 4-5 potatoes.

As we walked up the hill, I got tired. I told her I could no longer carry the potatoes, but she screamed at me. She was not nice! I decided to “punish her.”

I kept on walking, ahead of her, and when I arrived at the top of the hill, I dropped the sac of potatoes, which rolled all the way down, to the bottom of the hill! I will never know if she walked back to get those potatoes, because I ran as fast as I could and hid between a fence and the house’s wall, where I knew she was too heavy and big to reach me!

I still have in my mind the image of my poor aunt trying to fit between the narrow space between the house wall and the fence. I spent hours in that space, until a kind neighbor and my grandmother came to “negotiate” with me and under what conditions was I coming out, as it was getting dark.

I must have been a good negotiator, because I don’t remember being punished harshly … I am sure I was, because somehow I learned early in life that we have choices and there are consequences, and they could be good or bad, depending on our deeds. Dropping the sac of potatoes certainly didn’t qualify as a good deed.

Thank you grandmother, for everything you taught me, for the good and the fun memories and especially for…
The Smell of Roses!” IMG_0161_2